#now i have to come up with a name for a wizard puppet because honestly make this is her permanent career

[moocha-muses]

Okay, yes. I'm into. Her dummy is a wizard. The goof is that she's his familiar, and instead of drinking water he makes her test potions, and then they both do funny voices because of the potions. It's great.

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

day 2: party - @lautski-week

get it.,, like a..,,.,,, dnd party.,.,.,..,,

i straight up gasped when i realized i could use this as an excuse to talk about my lautski dnd au, so, if ur interested im gonna go feral about it below the cut:

steph: half-elven fighter

solomon lauter is a deeply corrupt, incredibly magical high elven king whose maintained his rule through intense dealings with the pantheon of the lords in black

he married a human woman at some point in his rule and he does love her, at first, just not as much as his power

so when the lords in black make him promise to sacrifice her in the name of some deal, he's sort of upset but... obviously he's gonna do it, she was gonna die before him anyway, it's not like it's a huge deal to let her die a little early, his subjects will think it was a squishy human life span thing, bada bing bada boom, hands clean of the whole affair

BUT.... then his wife gets pregnant and has a Stephanie... which kinda fucks shit up because said Stephanie is still fucking there after his wife has been sacrificed

he hates her, partially because she's a half-elf and partially because of what she represents, and she hates him, which results in her having very few boundaries because he doesn't want to deal with her

she's still a princess, and she's surrounded by high elves who think she's stupid and inferior because she's only a half elf and she has very little magical prowess, so it's not exactly ideal circumstances even with her extra freedoms

so she learns to punch things

because if people are dicks she can't outwit them but she can deck them

eventually the lords in black offer another trade with her dad where he can trade her for extra magic, but mostly it's just a test to prove his loyalty and he is honestly more than happy to get rid of her

except steph gets wind of it (because she's generally close with the kind of people who fucking hate the king/don't get treated with enough respect for people to not gossip around them) and she runs the fuck away

so now she's being chased down by her father who is facing pressure from the libs for not making the sacrifice, all the while experiencing actual respect and freedom for the first time from her party members

pete: teifling warlock-wizard multiclass

so you know that post thats like it's ethically ambiguous but you can hand off any cursed object to a baby? that's pete's whole thing in this kind of

ted, his full human older brother, was a intentional patron of tinky, who hadn't really thought it through and tried to get out of it by making a stupid promise and really just ended up dooming himself and his unborn brother (he felt really bad about it before he disappeared under mysterious circumstances, tho)

pete was born with a warlock pact to tinky (which was pretty obvious when his full human parents created a bright yellow teifling baby)

he hates tinky and is very uncomfortable and upset by the whole thing, so he multi classed into wizard shit when he was, like, eleven

tinky actively attempts to prevent him from gaining levels in wizard

he lies about being only a wizard and has spent years coming up for excuses about why a lot of his 'wizard spells' are very specifically warlock ones if someone asks (literally no one has ever noticed or questioned it)

because he was born with the pact bond tinky's hold over him is way stronger, and if he really submits (when shit gets super bad) tinky can take over his body and puppet him into doing some fucked up violent shit

he is truly treated like SHIT for being a teifling in his home town and it really minimizes a lot of his academic prospects, even though he's so smart, so part of the reason why he's traveling with his party is to try and find a real wizarding academy that will take him

(and one that can maybe help break his pact with tinky)

Bonus:

Ruth: human rouge who desperately wants to be a bard, but she's too nervous to perform and ironically, tragically hiding the fuck out in the shadows comes a lot easier

Richie: firbolg artificer -- he's pretty bad with the magical aspects of anything, but he builds a lot of cool ass machinery to make up for it (even if, god, hes SO upset by how bad he is at magic)

Grace: High Elven Cleric who WILL become a fucked up little warlock to the lords in black eventually (she is from steph's kingdom and followed her when she ran away to 'protect her'. Steph has been trying to shake her this whole time)

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Could you talk about the Statute of Secrecy? Or the Ministry’s corruption in General :)

Well, those are two different things. Given that I believe I have an ask floating somewhere in my inbox on the Statute, I suppose we’ll talk about the Ministry of Magic today.

I feel like this is such a broad topic though that I’m not quite sure where to start. I guess I’ll just throw spaghetti at the internet wall and see what sticks.

The Ministry is a Reflection of Society Who Never Admitted They Were the Death Eaters

In the ministry of Harry Potter’s era the Ministry is hopelessly corrupt and filled to the brim with spies (more on this in a later section). Lucius Malfoy, very high up in an unofficial capacity in the Ministry and owner of the Ministry’s mouth piece: The Daily Prophet, was a known Death Eater with a very flimsy excuse.

How is he even able to wield so much influence, you ask? Well, I think it’s not just because of Fudge picking the wrong friends.

I think most the population probably does believe Lucius Malfoy is innocent the way Fudge does. I think it’s a very small subsection, i.e. Dumbledore’s lackies, who go “Nah, ain’t buying it.” I think that, in 1981, when it came time to reveal just how many were Death Eaters and how far this went many people just couldn’t handle it.

Because it was to the point where the nation wasn’t battling Death Eaters, Death Eaters were the nation. Look at the members, these are and were the most influential and prominent families in the country, who combined hold a non-small minority of seats in the Wizengamot. More, these were only the participants, combine those who given anti-muggle and muggleborn sentiment (which I believe are pervasive even among those who claim they fight for the rights of muggles and muggleborns) and you get a nation that is suddenly facing a huge cultural issue that was never previously acknowledged.

We’re talking an entire purge of the Wizengamot, of the Ministry, of the major families and cornerstones of this society. The Black family is completely and utterly destroyed.

People were and remain throughout the 1990′s, desperate to believe it was not as bad as it was or isn’t as bad as it is. If Lucius Malfoy says he was never really a Death Eater then he was never really a Death Eater.

The Ministry is Lousy With Corruption and Spies

What’s hilarious to me is not only is the Ministry incompetent. It is positively flooded with spies. Given the ministry’s overbloated, it’s not even a sizeable minority of employees, but nonetheless every major department has at least one person (if not more) who works for somebody else.

Most work for Tom Riddle. He seems to have intelligence in every department. Through Lucius, who is working pretty much as an unofficial aide to Fudge, he has access to Fudge, complete control of the Daily Prophet, and a voice on the Hogwarts’ board of governors.

Through Rockwood, Tom has direct access to the Department of Mysteries which Lucius is then able to take full advantage of.

Lucius is able to set up an ambush in the Department of Mysteries, getting escaped convicts into the building with the none the wiser, and, had his sole purpose not been a prophecy that only Harry Potter and the Dark Lord can touch, he would have been able to take what he liked. (Though it was always odd to me that the plan was to get Harry Potter to do it, when the better solution would have been to polyjuice Tom Riddle into someone else, set up a tour with the department, and then Tom wanders off conveniently to pick up the prophecy. My theory, I suppose, is that chasing after the prophecy was mostly an exercise in punishing Lucius. And then Lucius fucked up.)

And of course, in book seven, Tom Riddle makes a puppet minister. Point being, to me, it always said a lot that in Book Seven Tom just sort of walks into the building and says, “I’m in charge now” and everyone says “okay”. There was no second Wizarding War, it was a bloodless coup that met zero resistance from anyone but angry school children. 

But that’s Tom’s spies, we also have other spies. Who am I talking about, Dumbledore’s folks of course.

Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks, and Arthur Weasley are all spies, they just don’t have the introspection to even realize it (which really tells you something about the state of corruption in the ministry). They all work for the ministry, yes, but they in fact pass on information to and serve another master, whose goals do not always align with the government and was a hop skip and a jump away from overthrowing the government at any given moment.

And they don’t even really realize they’re doing this! There doesn’t even seem to be a thought of “I’m doing this for the greater good”, they don’t seem to acknowledge that what they’re doing is very very very bad. Arthur, in fact, is appalled when Percy refuses to do this (well, he’s upset for a lot of reasons, such as that he thinks Percy is spying on Arthur for the minister, but in there is also that Percy refuses to help out with the Order or follow Dumbledore without question). 

Harry paints the Dumbledore’s Army threat that Umbridge saw as something utterly ridiculous, but honestly if I was the ministry I would be worried about this. Dumbledore’s people have infiltrated the ministry just as deeply and badly as the Death Eaters, Dumbledore’s known for recruiting children into his vigilante organization, I don’t know what he’s doing with an army of schoolchildren but I can smell a coup coming.

Anyway, I’m getting off track, point being though that corruption is not only expected and accepted by the ministry, they cannot recognize what it even is. They’re at the point where paying bribes is allocated in their budget.

I Don’t Blame the Ministry For Not Thinking Tom Riddle Was Anti-Jesus

Fudge is designed to get a lot of flack for his outright denial that Voldemort had returned from the dead. He, and other denier characters, are meant to be fools with their heads in the sand who can’t see the obvious.

I ask what about it was obvious?

The only witness to Tom Riddle’s resurrection, Harry Potter, has a known history of erratic behavior.

The previous year, he’d performed illegal magic on his muggle aunt and run away from home. During the previous school year, Harry was revealed to be a parselmouth in a time when the Chamber of Secrets was presumably opened and the mystery was never fully solved (remember, that it was a possessed Ginny never comes to light for more than a few people.) Beyond that, since his first day of school, Harry is routinely in and out of detention, constantly out after curfew, and only seems to not be in serious trouble because he’s openly favored by Dumbledore (who gives him hundreds of points for breaking one of his school rules, during the Philosopher’s Stone fiasco in first year). In 1994, Harry is entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament under very suspicious circumstances.

We know why all this happens to Harry but from the outside he looks like a delinquent. In fact, he kind of is a delinquent. 

Point being, the only witness is not only Harry Potter (who is already sketch) but it’s Harry Potter holding a dead body of a rival in the tournament.

And he’s claiming that a man who has been nearly fifteen years dead, a man who held the nation in terror and Harry Potter is beloved for destroying, has returned from the grave and conveniently murdered Cedric.

Why is Cedric dead? Well, you see, he and Harry both touched the goblet at the same time because they were going to share the reward. The goblet, a national treasure, was turned into a portkey so that Voldemort could kidnap him.

Why didn’t Voldemort just kidnap him at any other point during the year where he’s guaranteed not to get tag a longs or the wrong kid? Uh... VOLDEMORT IS BACK (for the record, I think it’s because Barty got hung up on the goblet scheme and was determined to ruin his father’s day.)

Where is Voldemort at this very moment? Being evil, somewhere, that is not right here. No, Harry has zero evidence this happened.

Frankly, I wouldn’t believe Harry either.

And when Dumbledore goes about promoting this as sound evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned, it starts to get even sketchier. Rather than sounding the alarm, Dumbledore is using this boy’s madness to stir the public into a panic that he, perhaps, plans to take advantage of.

After Dumbledore does that, I would suspect that, even if Harry does give me a memory of the graveyard scene that his head had been tampered with by Dumbledore.

And it’s so convenient that, of all the names Harry picked, it’s Voldemort who killed Cedric. It seems like a ploy to not only deflect the fact that he murdered Cedric but 

Harry’s very upset when some don’t take him at his word but Harry’s also a dumbass and a psychopath. He hates everyone who doesn’t agree with him.

More importantly, necromancy isn’t a thing in the Harry Potter universe. People don’t rise from the dead. Horcruxes exist, but they’re extremely rare, and it seems like no one ever really makes use of them.

So, yeah, not unreasonable that Fudge didn’t immediately go, “My god, Voldemort has risen from the dead! LIGHT THE BEACONS AND SUMMON ROHAN!”

So yeah, it’d take me seeing Voldemort waltzing through the Department Mysteries to go “... Goddammit, this man is more unkillable than Sheev Palpatine.”

After the Epilogue, I am Certain It’s Still the Same Damn Ministry

People hate the epilogue, but in a way, I love it, because it confirms many of my headcanons: these people don’t learn a goddamn thing.

Nothing in their society seems to have changed. Instead of one set of families holding all the power it’s now a new set of families and friends holding all the power. The difference being that they are now all in some way connected to Harry Potter.

Nepotism’s still the name of the game, we still see only human children boarding the Hogwarts Express so you know shit hasn’t changed for the goblins, Draco Malfoy’s alive and well and holds a position in the Ministry that Kingsly graciously allows him to have, it’s just now you have Hermione writing all your laws for you.

The Wizarding World is still the Wizarding World in every single capacity. The only difference is that Voldemort is dead again. Hooray.

Harry and friends simply don’t have the introspection to even realize it.

[opaljm]

blood runs pure (m) – pjm

➻ written in collaboration with @fitaelity

➻ female reader x jimin

➻ harry potter!au + death eater/pureblood/slytherin!jimin + half-blood/gryffindor!reader + enemies to lovers

➻ genres: minor fluff, tons of angst, minor smut, romance

➻ length & status: 28k words ; complete

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; brief mentions of death, violence (there’s dueling/fighting/killing scenes), torture (Cruciatus Curse; in one scene: chains/starvation/captivity/etc.), smut (steamy kisses, cunnilingus/light nipple play/fingering/multiple orgasms/penetrative sex)

➻ summary: The 2nd Wizarding War was underfoot, with you and Jimin falling on opposite sides. This however, was not enough to stop the two of you from falling in love with each other over the course of your final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. AKA this is a story of Jimin’s transition from the Death Eater’s perfect Pureblood poster child to the more redeemable man that you fell in love with.

➻ disclaimer: Also, I’m pretty sure we never made Jimin use the word “mudblood” but I’m sorry in advance for any of you who might get offended by the toxic and discriminatory behavior that Jimin sometimes exudes, but please keep in mind that this is a redemption story that is meant to follow and explore the growth of Jimin’s character and that he ultimately does realize the wrongs of that kind of behavior. um this was too long to edit rip, so we didn’t yolo.

⋆ my masterlist ⋆ interview ⋆

It was only to be expected that Park Jimin would have been the unlucky person to get that unfortunate letter, which essentially cursed him, delivered to him on that stormy August day by a completely drenched and sad looking gray owl. He had shown his worth, he supposed, shown that he could be trusted and put in that position of power. Perhaps the Lees, a pair of brother and sister Death Eaters who had been given positions on the Hogwarts’ staff by the Dark Lord, had whispered in Headmaster Snape’s ear that Jimin had spent the entire summer finishing an internship at the Ministry of Magic, a job which had been painstaking acquired by his father through transferring huge sums of money and exchanging many favors, under the tutelage of Jimin’s Fifth year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Choi Jonghoon.

Perhaps the Lees, knowing how Jimin had reacted emotionlessly to the Muggleborns stripped of their Wizarding status in the courtrooms while he transcribed the trials during his wretched summer internship, had thought that Jimin would be an excellent choice to keep the students in line during the school year.

Or perhaps, the decision had been made by the Dark Lord himself, after he had met with Jimin and declared him worthy of championing the Cause. That meeting had ended with Jimin facing the long and painful ordeal that had ended with him getting branded with the gruesome serpent, that was the infamous mark of the Death Eaters, on his left arm. It appeared that that event and his new title had awarded him yet another one, the position of Head Boy at Hogwarts under the Snape administration.

In any matter the deed was long done; Jimin was now tugging his trunks across a train station which was much emptier than it had been the past few years that he had been studying at Hogwarts, fully aware that he had to play an important role in how the school year unfolded. His trunks were half filled with things Jimin was sure would have been contraband had this been any other year: books on the Dark Arts (and on torture), vials filled with disgusting potions with torturous and sometimes painful effects, and the Hand of Glory which allowed Jimin to spy and get around without being detected.

After Jimin heaved his trunks onto the Hogwarts’ Express and pulled himself up as well, he was pushed unceremoniously by a girl who was not looking where she was going. She was pressed against his chest, in the narrow hallway of the train, and looked up to gaze into Jimin’s dark brown eyes with her sparkling ones. He recognized her to be you; your name was Y/N and you were a Gryffindor in his year. He had never bothered interacting with you or acknowledging your presence before, but he knew that you had a Muggle father and a witch for a mother. His lips curled into a snarl, “Get off me you disgusting Half-Blood, before I transform you into the vermin that you share your blood with.”

“I am— I am sorry, Park. It was an accident,” you whispered, removing yourself from Jimin as quickly as bodily possible. You turned around to head back in the direction you had come from, deciding that it was better to hold your bladder until you finally arrived at Hogwarts than to risk running into more terrifying Purebloods who could scare you into wetting yourself, and no doubt thought they had free reign to do as they pleased now that the Dark side had taken over.

Once back into your train compartment, which was empty since the people who used to be your only true friends at Hogwarts were Muggleborns who had both had gone into hiding, you sank down into your seat to and dropped your face into your hands as you sobbed. The only reason you were attending school was because you and all of Hogwarts’ students were being forced. Under a new law, a Hogwarts education was now mandatory for all witches and wizards between the ages of eleven and seventeen in Great Britain. This was a poorly constructed scheme, by the Dark side, that would allow them to grab the Muggleborn students as soon as they arrived at the station to strip them of their wands and throw them into prison. For this reason, many of your Muggleborn classmates had chosen to ignore the law outright and elected to go into hiding. Your own father, whom you had not seen since you were five and whom had remarried another Muggle, had been forced by your mother to go into hiding with his new family. You hated being here since you doubted that you would learn anything at all to help you pass your NEWTs, which you thought were going to be rigged and ripe with cheating now that you were living in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s playground, or anything that would help you become a better witch who was more adapt at performing magic and living in the Wizarding world as an adult. You wondered if the two new professors at school, the Lees, who were in charge of teaching the new Dark Arts class, that was replacing Defense Against the Dark Arts, and, the now forced graduation requisite: Muggle Studies, would be throwing you into detention at every possible opportunity, not only because of your so called ‘tainted’ blood but because you were a Gryffindor like most of the insurgents who supported the Chosen One’s cause.

At that very moment you made a promise to yourself. It was not a promise to succeed nor was it a promise to enjoy your last year of Hogwarts; it was a promise to survive and get the hell out of there as soon as possible and to escape to America where the Dark Lord’s reign had not yet quite reached.

…

The next time you interact with Park Jimin, it was because of what had happened in a Dark Arts lesson. You had honestly promised yourself to slip under the radar as much as possible, but there were just some things that you were not willing to compromise on: your morals, for one. The professor, Lee Seunghyun, had brought into the classroom a group of ten First Years on whom, he declared, you all would be practicing the Cruciatus Curse. You, knowing the ill effects that mispronounced and improperly casted spells could have, refused to utter the curse at all and stared at your First Year sullenly for the entire duration of the lesson, with your wand hanging from your right hand, as the child burst into uncontrollable and unstoppable tears in front of you. Professor Lee, being outraged by your act of defiance, said, with a dark scowl, that you would have a month of detention where the Unforgivable Curses would be practiced on you instead. He gave you the options of a month of detentions where he would use the Imperius Curse on you or a month with the Head Boy who would practice the Cruciatus Curse on you, which you had so valiantly refused to cast in class. Given the lecherous stares that Lee was sending your way, you knew you did not want to be placed under the Imperius Curse by him as that would allow him to control you like a puppet so you decided to take your chances instead with Jimin and the promise of torture.

On the unblessed Saturday that you had detention with Jimin, he stalked into the, otherwise, empty classroom at seven in the morning instantly throwing a venomous glare at you for ruining what would have otherwise been the first morning he could have slept in instead of having to run around the castle punishing students and being forced to keep them in line. “Y/L/N,” he barked, “I see that you have refused to use the Cruciatus Curse in class. What exactly did you think we would be learning in that class?”

“I didn’t know that we would be practicing on people,” you muttered. Jimin gave you a look that suggested that he thought you were an idiot of the highest order. You were inclined to agree, after all it was the Lees who were teaching, was it not. “I thought it might have all just been us studying the theory and not practicing anything.”

“Did you think, perhaps, that we were still getting taught by Choi Jonghoon?” Jimin laughed hollowly, “At best you could have hoped that you would be practicing on rodents or spiders and not humans. But as you can see, that is not the case.”

You stared at Jimin in surprise, “I thought you were a fan of Choi. You were in the Inquisitorial Squad and I know what you did this summer.” You wondered how Jimin could sleep at night after enduring trial after trial where Muggleborns were treated like vermin and stripped of their wands and Magical status as he stood by emotionlessly and was, all the while, transcribing the details of the cases in meticulous detail.

Jimin scoffed, “No one is a fan of that ugly toad. He pretends to be a Pureblood, related to the Kangs, and makes up lies about his father being a former member of the Wizengamot, as though my family has not worked at the Ministry for centuries. We know he has a Muggle mother and a Squib brother; her father used to scrub the floors at my grandfather’s office. I got that internship because she cannot afford to make enemies of the Parks. There is no lost love between us.”

“Are— are you going to be practicing the curse on me now?” you asked, kicking yourself in your head for sounding terrified.

Jimin stared at you; his dark brown eyes felt like they were piercing through your soul, “You are terrified of me.”

“N— No, I am not,” you protested half-heartedly.

He ignored you, “You are afraid of me and yet you chose to have detention with me. Why is that Y/L/N?” His eyes bore into yours as a thought about Lee Seunghyun being a disgusting piece of scum flitted across your mind. Jimin’s face contorted with disgust as he said, “Never mind. I’ll practice the Cruciatus Curse on you now.”

You moved to the center of the room, standing there uncertainly as you shifted your weight from one foot to the next. Meanwhile, Jimin enchanted the desks and chairs to be pressed against the walls. Though you did not expect him to, he spelled a dozen cushions to appear out of thin air and pad the floor. “Y/L/N do you remember our fourth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class?” he mused.

You had forgotten that you had shared classes with the Slytherins that year, which had also been the year when the Triwizard Tournament had taken place. “What about it?”

“You will see,” Jimin muttered before he pulled his wand out of his pocket and raised it in front of him, “Crucio!”

Immediately, the most excruciating pain you had ever experienced filled your body. You felt as though every single one of your bones was being splintered into a million shards. Your blood felt like it was on fire and like it was going to burn through your body and drip down to the floor before engulfing your seemingly melting body. You vaguely wondered if this must be what being in hell would feel like, if you were a Muggle who believed in a single superior deity, as you just wanted to die so that you no longer could feel the pain.

When you came back to your senses, you saw that Jimin was staring at you from where he was sitting cross-legged on top of a desk, his hand was on his cheek and he muttered, “You have a very low pain tolerance, Y/L/N, that will have to change.”

You croaked; your vocal cords were abused from you screaming your lungs out when you had been under the spell, “Why will that have to change?”

He gave you another look to suggest that you were an idiot, “How will you survive Y/L/N if you cannot withstand the pain? You need to build your tolerance up. And then perhaps one day, you can make your mind strong enough to resist and convince yourself to throw off the spell.”

“Why are you helping me?” you whispered.

He stared at you, “Am I helping you or am I telling you what you should have realized already? It is common sense, Y/L/N. There are a lot of times that you will be forced to endure things you do not wish to, but it is up to you to use those experiences to shape who you are. In any case, I highly doubt you will succeed since you were only under the spell for ten seconds, yet you screamed like the world was lit on fire. I find no harm in telling you anything; I highly doubt that you will be able to use the instruction I give you to your benefit.”

…

A few days after your first detention lesson with Jimin, you were reminded of the lesson you had in your fourth year with Professor Jung Jihoon. Well, he turned out to be a Death Eater named Baek Yoonchun according to The Boy Who Lived, but you digressed. There had been a lesson where he had covered the Unforgivable Curses. In the first lesson, Jung/Baek. had brought out three spiders on which he had used an enlarging spell so that you would all be able to see the effects of the Unforgivable Curses on the doomed creatures as he performed them. In the following classes, he would use the Imperius Curse on classmates until they could throw it off. Only two people had been successful, and it had only been for a few seconds; one of them had been the Chosen One, and the other, although it had been for a split second in contrast to the long interminable minutes the Chosen One had held it off,— the other had been none other than Park Jimin. Something told you though, that if anyone tried to place the Imperius Curse on Jimin now, they would not be very successful unless they were a very powerful individual or one who had used the Dark Arts to increase their magical prowess.

For the second detention, you showed up early with extra padding on your body because last time, even with Jimin’s precautions, you had ended up with bruises. This time, Jimin was even later than before, skidding into the room with an incorrectly buttoned shirt and hair that was drenched from his shower. “I am surprised you came back for more pain,” Jimin gasped, out of breath from his sprint, smirking sardonically to reassert his dominance. “Are you a masochist Y/L/N?” he asked as he magicked the blinds to open so that the morning’s light could be let in.

“No,” you answered. “But I hardly have the choice of not showing up, Park. This is detention. And there will be far worse penalties than this if I were to not show up.”

“I suppose,” muttered Jimin as he took a step into your personal space, “Have you prepared?”

“How am I supposed to prepare for the pain?” you asked, tilting your head upward to look Jimin in his dark stormy eyes.

“Strengthen your mind Y/L/N,” Jimin replied, “Your control over yourself has to be stronger than the person’s ability to perform the curse. You see, they have to really mean it when they utter it. Perhaps you will get lucky and they will utter it carelessly, in which case it will be easier for you to throw off the curse. But perhaps, they are a formidable witch or wizard who is extremely good at performing the Unforgivables; your mind and control over yourself has to be stronger than their ability to execute magic.”

“I don’t understand,” you murmured.

Jimin stepped even closer which caused you to take a step back; his eyes scanned your face, stopping on your lips for a brief moment before returning to your eyes. He finally responded; “Are you able to cast a corporeal Patronus?”

“I did. Once,” you answered.

Jimin looked momentarily stunned before he was able to collect himself, “In theory, if you have a memory that is so inexplicably happy and bound to your mind that you would never forget it, you could even scare off an army of Dementors with your Patronus.”

You felt like you were beginning to understand Jimin; you needed to be so attuned to yourself, have such strength and control over your mind that you could shake off even the strongest mental spells on yourself. “I see.” You said, “I am ready to be Cruciatized.”

Jimin scoffed, “One is not ‘ready’ to get Cruciatized but, fine, I will perform the curse on you now.”

…

On your last detention with Jimin, he was distracted; it had to be rescheduled to a Sunday, and he had arrived past ten. Jimin looked worse for wear with the bags under his eyes looking more prominent than ever, his cheeks appearing to have been hollowed out to the point of no return, and his collarbone sticking out sharply from underneath his sweater. And perhaps it was because Jimin’s mind was not entirely on making you endure the Cruciatus Curse, that you were finally able to throw off the spell for twenty seconds, screaming out, “Jimin! Jimin! I did it!”

Jimin’s control on the spell was snapped as his wand hand jerked at your unexpected outburst. He glanced down to where you were sprawled inelegantly on top of the cushions, your legs were still twitching slighting from the onslaught of torture, “And so you did,” he said monotonously, before his eyes shifted to the windows where he appeared to be looking for some type of disturbance in the skies.

You sat up. Your sides were screaming at the movement. You, then, braced your hand on the ground as you moved to go on your knees before you were slowly able to contort your body until it was able to stand upright. Your entire form was aching in response to the constant shifting. “For some reason,” you gasped breathlessly, “I presumed that you would be more excited about my success.”

Jimin’s eyes cut back to your shape, “Well you presumed incorrectly,” he answered coldly, “We are not friends; nothing you do excites me. However, it does not surprise me that you thought our relationship was changing to anything more than executioner and victim, given your background,” the last part was said scathingly, “but at least something was able to get into your thick skull before you went back to living your meaningless existence.”

There was a sudden rush of hot unwanted tears flooding your eyes; they were probably a delayed effect from the Cruciatus Curse you had been forced to endure, you tried to convince yourself. “I see,” you mumbled thickly, trying to hide the fact that you were now in tears from your voice, “Well, I will be going now. Goodbye, Park. If we are fortunate, we will not be crossing paths anymore now that the detentions are over.”

As you left the classroom, the door shutting after you with a loud click, Jimin finally looked behind himself and let out a heavy sign before unceremoniously grabbing his left arm and pushing up the sleeve roughly to look at the snake emblem that was throbbing and pulsating across the stretch of skin that covered his forearm, the sight of it making him want to upend his breakfast. The Dark Lord was angry and Jimin feared that a summoning was near in his future.

…

You did not see Jimin again for a very long time. When it happened, however, you were grateful for it. You had turned to spending all of your weekends at Hogwarts wandering around the place. Visits to Hogsmeade village had been banned while all clubs and sports teams had been coerced into disbanding after Headmaster Snape had reinstated Educational Decree no. Twenty-Four: “No student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs may exist without the knowledge and approval of the Headmaster.” He even went so far as to forbidding students from residing in each other’s companies in groups of three or more. It was like Choi had taken over Hogwarts, once again. And after dealing with the mess that Choi had left behind on your OWL examination year, you were less than enthused to deal with it while studying for your NEWT examinations

With so much being forbidden to the students, you took to spending your time looking for hiding places in the castle; the less you were seen by the new Professors, and the new wave of students running around with badges from the reinstated Inquisitorial Squad pinned to their chest, hell-bent on punishing students and making their lives miserable, the better.

It was on one such weekend that you were wandering around the sixth floor of the castle when you came across a space that looked like it used to be a medieval torture room. However, it looked as though it been recently been put to service again since, when you scanned your eyes around the room for a second time, you noticed that there were three students tied to stakes with cursed chains that were covered in black ichor that was turning their skins greenish and diseased. Bile started to rise up in your mouth as you watched the unconscious forms writhing and twitching intermittently. An overwhelming sense of horror and disgust overtook you as you immediately began to wrack your brain trying to figure out how to release the poor students from their bindings.

You decided against pulling at the knots that held them captive; you knew better than to let your bare hands come into contact with the chains since you had grown up around magic your entire life and had been taught better. You decided to, instead, test out all the spells you knew that would normally work in situations like this: concentrated unlocking spells, targeted explosive spells, and advanced transfiguration spells that would hopefully transform the harsh metal cuffs into something softer and more harmless, like putty, that you could easily break them out of.

The students did not notice your growing despair as you began to wonder if they were dying, after all, you had no idea how long they had been in that state or how many days they had gone without food or water, or even access to the facilities. After close to half an hour of struggling, wracking your brain for everything you could possibly think of, you sank down onto the dirty and dusty floor of the formerly unused room. You wondered if perhaps, you could come back here with food to simply keep them company until they woke up, if they woke up, and then you could offer them the food to see if they could keep anything down.

As you hastily got up to hurry along to the Kitchens and then return to the Sixth floor with a cornucopia of food, you belatedly realized that you never thought to ask the other Professors for help: not the head of your house, Professor Kim Taeyeon, or even the Headmaster, Snape. It was probably for the best, you decided; you did not know how much authority or sway they had over the Lees, even the Headmaster, and you did not want to get them into hot water with the Dark regime. A visit from the Dark Lord, or any of his followers, was the last thing that the students at Hogwarts needed.

The school’s kitchens were located on the basement floor of the castle, near the Hufflepuff common area although you did not know where the exact location of the Hufflepuff’s dormitories was. However, you did know where the Kitchens were; in your Fourth year, you had had to sneak down to the Kitchens with your best friend Im Nayeon to get food for the party the Gryffindors were having after the Chosen One had saved his best friend from potential drowning during the second Triwizard tournament. You had used it in your Sixth year, too, when you were always too busy completing the assigned coursework from your NEWT classes to go to the Great Hall during the assigned mealtimes.

You had not visited them once, however, since the current school year had started, and you did not know if there were now watchdogs watching the entrance to the Kitchen to stop students from sneaking extra meals. Thus, you decided to play it on the safe side and be a little more cautious as you used the castle’s most deserted hallways and secreted shortcuts to get down to the basement level. The password to enter the Kitchens had not changed as you quickly found yourself watching the painting of the bowl of fruits swing forward to reveal the portrait hole for you to climb through after you had tickled the plethora of fruits in a specific order to gain access inside.

Inside, however, the house elves were more subdued than you had ever seen them. They worked quickly, and efficiently, without conversation and did not pay any heed to your intrusion. In fact, they ignored you so blatantly outright that you began to wonder if they had been forbidden from communicating with the students. You still needed food, despite the setback, so you approached one of the elves and asked for a basket of food: fruits, bread, cheese, slices of meat loaf, chicken strips, roasted potatoes, and flasks of orange and pumpkin juice. The elves went to work hastily preparing your basket, piling up food in the hamper so high that you did not see how it would be possible for you to drag it up seven floors. You asked one of the elves, the one who looked slightly nicer than the others, and had been the first to spring into action, fixing up the food for you, if he could transfigure the basket for you so that it would be small enough for you to slip into the pocket of your black school robes. You figured that a simple enlargement charm later would be enough to return the food to its normal size later.

As you passed the head of the hallway that had led you to the Kitchens, you did not notice that there had indeed been a watchdog that was guarding the entrance. Fortunately for you, that person had been Jimin. And as he watched you traipse up the stairs, with a suspecting scowl gracing his face, he decided he had nothing better to do than to follow you to your destination.

Jimin burst into the room where you were watching over the three unfortunate students just after you had transformed the basket of food back to its normal size. “What are you doing, Y/L/N,” he panted breathlessly at your back; he had not known that following you would mean he would have to trek across half the castle. You jumped in surprise at the intrusion.

“Oh, hello Park,” you said glumly. “I don’t know how to free them,” you sighed as you gestured towards the captive students whose names you did not know. All you could see were the badges pinned to their school robes and their ties that dangled limply from their throats. They were two Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff, so you did not expect Jimin to care like you did. “I don’t understand what they could have possibly done to merit this punishment.”

Jimin strode towards you, his gaze flitting between the students who were chained to the crosses like some sort of pagan sacrifice to the gods. “You should not be here, Y/L/N, you will only get into trouble if you are caught. You cannot afford to be on the Lees’ radar.”

“I know that,” you muttered bitterly, “But I can’t just leave them here. I don’t expect you to understand. You probably don’t even have a fully functioning conscience. But I can’t, in good faith, leave them here like this. I have to try to help.”

“Leave the food here,” Jimin said abruptly. “Leave it here. I will ensure that they receive it. But you simply cannot be here Y/L/N. You are making it worse for everyone. If you get caught trying to free them, which I doubt you know how to do successfully, it will have disastrous consequences, not only for you but for them. And what of me? The castle is alive, Y/L/N. There is not a thing that happens within these walls that can be kept a secret. Once it is revealed that I found you here and did absolutely nothing about it, I will be in a heap of trouble as well. So, I am begging you, Y/L/N, use your brain for once. Don’t think with your goddamn heart, which is all you thickheaded Gryffindors know to do, and leave the situation to me. I will deal with it. And I know how to cover up my own tracks.”

“Why can’t I stay and help you?” you asked, feeling suspicious of Jimin and not trusting him to actually deal with the situation adequately.

“You cannot be my accessory, Y/L/N,” Jimin sighed exasperatedly, “Especially since you cannot cover your own tracks. How else do you think it is that I was able to follow you up here without your knowledge?”

“Fine,” you relented, “Get the job done Park, I am– trusting you,” you muttered, uttering four words you never thought you would use in relation to Park Jimin.

Jimin waited five minutes after you left to summon his house elf, Chimmy, into the room. “Master Park,” the house elf, in the pale-yellow pinstriped pillowcase, greeted, bowing deeply, “How may I assist you?”

“Go to my dormitory and bring the spell book with the purple leather cover and the silver gilded pages. Bring two of the potions in my potions case too. The pale blue one with the aluminum stopper and the lavender one with the rose quartz screw,” Jimin said, furrowing his brows deep in thought.

Once Chimmy was back with the potions and the spell book, Jimin grabbed them from the house elf swiftly. He slipped the potion vials into his pocket and flipped through the spell book rapidly; he was looking for the section on magical entrapments and bindings. He soon found the spell he had been looking for, four pages into the section, and marched towards the first unconscious student. The spell was a nonverbal one, so Jimin pointed his wand at the cuffs that were entrapping her, stiffly and recited the spell in his mind. The spell miraculously worked and freed her left hand from the chains. He then went to perform the spell at the bindings at her feet and other hand, moving to catch her when she fell forward after being freed completely. He sat her down, propped against the wall, before he went to do the same thing to the two boys.

It was then that he brought out the lavender potion from the folds of his robe. It was a healing potion, one that he had brewed in Professor Kim Heechul’s class last month. Most days Professor Heechul did not give them any real instruction anymore and instead told them to feel free to make whatever they desired; Jimin used the opportunity to brew potions that would be useful in a variety of situations, especially since Professor Heechul had made the all of the supplies in the Potions’ cupboards available to them. With a few drops of his potion on the surfaces of skin that had been affected by the black ichor, they began to rapidly heal before his eyes.

The pale blue potion was a rejuvenating one that would hopefully wake the three from their stupor. But before that, Jimin had to figure out what to do with the students; he could not just free them to send them back to the masses that roamed the castle when they were wanted personnel. They would only be brought back here or transferred to even worse holding quarters. Not only that, but with the Headmaster’s potion-making prowess, they could be force-fed Veritaserum and reveal that it had been he, Jimin, who had freed them.

He was thinking about how to get the three of them out of the school grounds without being undetected when he remembered the story that Kim Hanbin had told him of being trapped in the Vanishing Cabinets in the Room of Requirement in their Fifth year. He was pretty certain that that had been the way that Min Yoongi had gotten the Death Eaters to storm the castle the previous June, although he had not exactly been privy to his plans. He wondered if there were other methods of escape that could be sought in the Room of Requirement.

With his mind made, he took out the final potion from his pocket and dropped it underneath each of the three’s tongues. When they all awoke to see their Head Boy glaring at them for being put in this situation, they were all understandably a little scared. Jimin shoved the basket of food in one of their arms and told them to follow him through one of Hogwarts’ abandoned passages to the Room of Requirement that was located one floor above them.

In front of the Room of Requirement, Jimin strutted across it three times thinking, “I need a way to get out of the castle,” resolutely. The door that appeared, was one that Jimin was unfamiliar with, a small one made completely of brass with engravings of fairies and other woodland creatures covering it that seemed to be moving across the planes of the door as though it were enchanted. He unceremoniously pulled the door open and shoved the three of them into the Room of Requirement before sealing it and falling to the floor in exhaustion, his back pressed against the now empty stretch of beige wall behind him.

…

It would be too much to hope that no one had noticed what Jimin had done. Two days after he had led the insurgents to freedom, he was called into a meeting with the Lees and the Headmaster.

They asked him what he had been doing on that Sunday, more specifically, why had he left his post in front of the entrance to the Kitchens. They did not believe him when he said that he, feeling that he was going to collapse from exhaustion had felt that the best course of action for him would be return to his rooms to get some, what he felt was very deserved, rest.

They asked him if he had been anywhere near the sixth floor on Sunday. Jimin determined that the Lees were bad at interrogations as he skillfully waded through their questions. Even worse, they were far too impulsive, making rash decisions as they got exceedingly angry from their poor control of their tempers and their inability to get Jimin to revealed what they desired. They wanted to perform the Cruciatus curse on him to torture him into giving up what they thought was the ‘truth.’ When they were told that they could not perform such a spell on Jimin by the Headmaster, who reminded the Lees who Jimin’s family was and their power, they wanted, instead, to shove Veritaserum down his throat. This was also ruled against by the Headmaster who refused to supply the Lees the potion to use on any of his students.

The Headmaster instead suggested that he should apply Legilimency on Jimin and navigate through his mind. With a smirk at the Lees, Jimin readily agreed to have the Headmaster search through his mind. He insisted that he had nothing to hide and that he felt more than comfortable with the Headmaster probing his mind for the truth.

As he stared into Headmaster Snape’s eyes steadfastly, Jimin attempted to clear his mind and paint the scene of him walking from the kitchen straight to the opposite side where the dungeons were and where the Slytherin rooms were located under the Great Lake. He began to add in details: the temperature getting lower, the air feeling increasingly muggy, the gray of the stone walls as he passed through them, his black leather shoes with wooden soles making an echoing sound every time they hit the cobbled floor. He painted the picture of him stepping in front of the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, of him uttering “Ophiuchus,” under his breath so that the stone wall in front of him was split in half, revealing a gigantic room.

The Common Room had seaweed colored walls; it was decked out with heavy leather furniture with iron arms, large side tables and ornate chairs. There was a truly massive silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling that looked as though it was made of nothing, but ropes of silver wrought snakes tangled with each other. Jimin stopped to stare at a tapestry in the vision that he was painting. He gazed at the woven masterpiece that has Salazar Slytherin, himself, directing a monstrous Basilisk into battle, before swiftly cutting across the room to climb up the stairs on the boys’ side to go to the uppermost landing, letting himself into the special dormitory reserved only for the school’s Head Boy. Jimin smirked as he imagined himself undressing and slipping in between his bed sheets while he was completely nude. For a moment his brow was furrowed, in the present; his gaze stopped on his bedside dresser, in his mind, where there was a piece of paper. It was a schedule of his Head Boy duties; Saturdays are clearly marked to oversee Y/N’s detentions in the morning.

He felt the Headmaster’s foreign presence retreating from his mind, and then heard Snape say snidely, “Mr. Park is telling the truth. Now if you two are done wasting my time, please excuse yourselves from my office.”

The Lees, chastised, rushed towards the doors, no doubt in a hurry to complain to the Chos or the Mins, someone higher up than they were, to report on their behalf to the Dark Lord a complaint about Severus Snape. Jimin moved towards the exit himself, his legs woodenly shifting towards the Lees when the Headmaster’s voice interrupted his thoughts silkily, “Mr. Park I would like to talk to you about your Head Boy duties.”

Jimin stopped in his tracks, and turned back to Snape, “Of course, Headmaster.”

“Take a seat Mr. Park,” Snape drawled, as he swept through the room, his hands tinkering with small magical artifacts. Jimin sat sullenly in front of the large desk Snape had left. His eyes traveled the space in front of him which was decorated with portraits of Hogwart’s previous Headmasters and Headmistresses. Majority of the paintings were empty, with only a murky backdrop remaining in the portraits that their owners had vacated. He saw that the previous Headmasters, including Lee Sooman and Park Jinyoung as well as Albus Dumbledore, were still in their portraits. The last wizard in question was smiling kindly at Jimin while he waited for the current Headmaster to lecture Jimin about how he had known Jimin was lying.

When Snape opened his mouth however, Jimin was surprised: “You need to become more proficient at Occlumency, Mr. Park. A Squib could have waded through your mind and discovered the truth with ease,” he snarled.

“I am sorry Headmaster,” muttered Jimin inclining his head in shame.

“You are entirely unprepared to ever go against the Dark Lord, should he ever seek to look in your mind Park. It is fortunate that you are not against the regime I suppose. But you still do have secrets you want to keep in under the wraps,” Snape drawled, tapping a long forefinger against his jaw.

“Severus, stop being so harsh,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out from the portrait, “I am certain that Jimin has an aptitude for Occlumency.”

“If he does, I have yet to see it,” sniffed Snape. “Park, you are now required to come to my office every Friday at 8pm, unless otherwise specified, for Occlumency lessons. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Headmaster,” Jimin replied quickly, as he inclined his body into a fast, respectful 90 degrees bow.

“You may now leave,” Snape said, waving his hand in a careless gesture of dismissal, prompting Jimin to stand up and swiftly exit the room without a backwards glance.

…

It was November when you and Jimin crossed paths again. You had been, once again, on the hunt for the perfect location on the school grounds where you could seek solace and hide from the horrid conditions that had befallen on the inhabitants of the castle. You knew that Quidditch had been banned and thought that this would mean that the Quidditch pitch would be deserted and unkempt since it was no longer being maintained regularly.

The weather on that November day was a little chilly and you decided to seek refuge in the commentator box from the harsh and biting winds. When you had finally reached the top of the steps and swung open the worn-down wooden door to the little office, you found that it was already occupied. The Slytherin Head Boy that you were becoming too well acquainted with, despite your best efforts, was crouched on the messily nailed wooden beams that made up the floor to the office. His nose, red from the cold, was almost pressed against the glass wall he was looking into, out at the Quidditch pitch. His silvery gray hair was a windswept mess on top of his head, and he was bundled into a thick winter coat in Slytherin green, his Head Boy badge was pinned to his chest, and a well-used and well-loved Firebolt laid next to his booted feet.

“Sorry,” you muttered when he looked up at your intrusion, a sharp blast of wind entering the room notifying him of your entry. “I did not think that anyone would be here right now.”

Jimin straightened up and brushed off the dirt and dust from his charcoal gray pant legs. “Were you, too, looking for some place to seek solace?” he asked, not unkindly.

“These days I don’t feel welcome anywhere in the castle,” you admitted, “I had hoped to find some place that I could be alone for a bit and seek respite.”

“It has been hard,” Jimin agreed, “And you feel so entirely alone in the world. You don’t see a point of continuing to move forward.”

At that you turned your head sharply to face Jimin and gaze into his eyes, searching for you don’t know what, in his expression. You had not thought that Jimin could have also been having a hard time. He was a Pureblooded Slytherin was he not? His parents were even rumored to have Pureblood fanatical inclinations although they had never been tried for being Death Eaters themselves. The people who shared the same beliefs and principles with him were the ones that were in power.

But then you thought of the Jimin who had taught you, though unwillingly, how to throw off the Cruciatus Curse and to make the most of your punishment instead of treating you like you were less than human and just torturing you mercilessly for the hell of it. You thought of the Jimin who had helped you free those students. Perhaps there was more to Park Jimin after all: more to the Head Boy than the mask that he had chosen to don for all of the castle to see.

“It would be a shame if we had to give this place up,” you replied looking around the tiny mostly wooden and glass room, “I am content with sharing this place with you Park, for us to escape to when we have nowhere else to go.”

…

The winter holiday meant that on the first week of December, Jimin found himself packing up his school trunk with a large stack of textbooks in order to stay on top of his winter coursework over the holidays. He also put in his trunk a bundle of clothing and an odd amalgamation of things he was no longer regularly making use of to drop off at home in exchange for the new crap his parents had likely bought him to replace them.

Dragging his trunk with him to the front of the school, he boarded a Thestral drawn carriage. After the events of the spring and summer, he could unfortunately see the ghostly skeletal winged horses that pulled the school carriages.

The carriages could fit four but when Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, and Choi Yeonjun tried to enter the one Jimin was cozied in, he kicked the door shut in their faces and rapped his knuckles against the roof of the carriage to urge the Thestrals to a trot in the direction of Hogsmeade Village.

Jimin was not looking forward to patrolling the halls of the Hogwarts Express or conducting a meeting in the Prefects’ compartment with his co-Head Jennie Kim. He was exhausted and in no mood to talk to anyone. All he wanted to do was to get a little shut eye on the train ride before his parents picked him up to take him to the Mins’, where they had been invited for dinner, no doubt with countless other Death Eaters, and left his luggage to be dealt with by their house elves.

Dinner had been nothing special. The Dark Lord had not been there but his devoted servants Cho Sanghee and her husband, Cho Haseul, had been. Jimin knew them to be related to the Mins through Yoongi’s mother but as he watched the Chos strut around the Min Manor with satisfied expressions, that hinted at their cruel manner, on their decidedly ugly and inbred faces, that were a result of marriages amongst the 28 Pureblood families of England for the past 1500 years, Jimin thought he caught glimmers of contempt on the facades of Yoongi’s parents. Their son Yoongi sat blank faced throughout the dinner, much like Jimin, not joining any of the Death Eaters in conversation, and spent the entirety of the meal mindlessly prodding his dinner with his silverware.

Fortunately for Jimin, this was the most contact that he had to make with the Dark Lord’s most fanatical supporters for the duration of his winter holiday. His parents had apparently convinced the Dark Lord that Jimin was too busy with his NEWT studies, Head Boy duties, and post-graduation preparations to be of any use to him in the hunting down and capturing the outlawed protestors and vigilantes. But the Dark Lord took that to mean that Jimin was ready for even more grooming for a position in the Ministry of Magic after his culmination from Hogwarts. He wanted Jimin to follow Yang Hyunsuk, the Imperiused former Head of Magical Law Enforcement that had replaced Seo Taiji as the current Minister of Magic, around and keep watch to make sure he was not acting out of order.

It was two days after Christmas Day, that Jimin, who had flopped down in his bed at two o’clock in the morning after a long day of observing the Minister at the Ministry, had received your Christmas present. The owl that came to his window and rapped not five minutes after Jimin had finally been able to rest his eyes, reminded him of the owl that had intruded into his life that rainy summer night a few months ago and had changed his live irrevocably. This owl like that one had plumage that was a mixture of dark gray and black feathers, and unlike its long-lost cousin who had been drenched from the rain, had only the barest coating of snow covering its coat. Tied under its talon-ed feet, was a beautifully wrapped gift in black paper with silver stars that was tied together with a thick ribbon of Slytherin emerald green. The ribbon had a card attached to it. There was no name of the sender, but on one side the return address in Ilkley was visible. On the other side of the card, all that was written was, “I hope this gift finds you well. Happy Christmas, Jimin.”

Somehow, Jimin had instantly known that the gift had been from you. He supposed that you had omitted your name and entire address because you had been wary of the gift falling into his parents’ hands. Carefully pulling apart the wrapping paper, Jimin found a thin golden box within, the kind of box that typically used to hold jewelry inside. His guess had been correct: within the box had been a thin silver chain with a tiny circular disc that was maybe a tenth of the size of a Knut and had a J engraved in the middle and one emerald stone next to it.

He immediately took the necklace out of the box and unclasped it to adorn his neck. It fell to the top of his sternum and was low enough that it could be hidden by the collars of most of Jimin’s shirts. He wanted to Apparate to you immediately and ask you why you had given him a Christmas gift when he had given you nothing but the pain from more placements of Cruciatus Curses than either of you could be bothered to count.

His gaze dropped to the golden watch adorning his left wrist. It had stars instead of clock hands and had been given to him by his parents on his seventeenth birthday. Time had gone by swiftly as Jimin had examined your gift and it was now three in the morning. There was no way that you would be awake at this time if he had gone to bother you. Jimin could not find it in himself to rouse you out of bed to answer his questions though they were pressing him. He simply gave your pet owl some treats before ushering it out the window and going to bed himself. He would go visit you after he had arranged someone to take his place to trail the Minister and had secured a few days off for himself. Hopefully, if Jimin was successful, he would be able to have a real vacation until school started up again after the New Year began.

…

Apparating to the Ilkley parish in West Yorkshire, Jimin appeared out of thin air to stand on a meadow in the Northern English countryside. A thin coating of snow covered the field that Jimin was standing on and across from him, he could see a wooden fence caging in sheep to keep them from wandering over his way. It was likely that your mother was the Secret Keeper of your home so Jimin would be out of luck in trying to find you unless you went outside your home. He was confident in his belief that you would; after all, instead of staying cooped up in the Gryffindor dormitory, where you were undoubtedly the safest in the castle, you always chose to wander around.

After walking around the village for a bit, where it appeared that both wizards and Muggles lived together, Jimin noticed that everyone was rather subdued and stuck to themselves. The wizards were wary of interacting with the Muggles they shared their community with, fearful of being looked upon as Muggle sympathizers. And the Muggles stuck to themselves, suspicious about strangers after the increase in missing persons and inexplicable rise in deaths and murders all over Britain. Walking into a small but tidy ice cream shop, Jimin was reminded of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour’s in Diagon Alley. The ice cream parlor had been boarded up and remained closed since the Dark Lord had gotten his followers to drag off the owner, but in Jimin’s youth it had always been his favorite place to grab a cold treat with its extensive collection of eccentric and tasty ice cream flavors before he rushed over to Quality Quidditch Supplies to stare at the window displays of the newest professional broomsticks.

This shop did not have the multitude of flavors that Fortescue's did, so Jimin asked for a two-scoop cup of basic vanilla and plain chocolate. With his purchase made, he walked out of place to go find a seat at the park he had passed by earlier. Sitting on the slightly damp black iron bench, Jimin realized that getting ice cream on such a cold day was probably counterintuitive. However, as the creamy vanilla dessert dissolved on his tongue, and he tasted its rich and sweet flavor, he realized that sometimes good things have to hurt for you to understand and appreciate their value.

The park was not entirely deserted and as Jimin sat there watching families of Muggles build snowmen with their children and create snow figures on the ground with their bodies,  he saw a lone female figure wearing a fluffy white Sherpa coat with a scarlet and gold scarf wrapped around her neck.

For someone who had Muggle blood, you certainly did not know how to blend in with them. You stuck out to him so obviously, with the crimson and gold of your Gryffindor scarf acting like a beacon amidst the white of all the fallen snow that was surrounding the village. He doubted that you knew he was here now, in West Yorkshire, looking for you. He stopped twenty paces away from you, indistinguishable from the other patrons of the park with his dark long overcoat and his black hair that was tucked under a dark gray newsboy’s cap. You looked so peaceful, sitting on the icy metal bench as you took in the view of the frozen lake before the two of you. Unfortunately, Jimin could not let you remain in your serene state of tranquility. He had pressing matters to tend to that concerned you.

Hearing the loud crunch of snow beneath boots coming towards you, you looked up curiously and let out a quiet gasp when you saw Park Jimin standing before you. He stood wordlessly before you, glaring at you intensely as he took you in from head to toe. Clearing your throat nervously, you stammered, “What are you doing in West Yorkshire Park? Somehow, I imagined you living somewhere more refined and stylish like Surrey or Buckinghamshire.”

“Oh,” murmured Jimin letting out a low throaty chuckle, that made your face pinch with anxiety, “I’m visiting.”

“I wasn’t aware you really had living family outside your parents,” you muttered almost inaudibly.

Jimin raised an eyebrow at that, “Oh I am not visiting family, Y/L/N.” The same low snarky chuckle came again, “I am visiting the girl who thought it would be appropriate to give me the Christmas gift of an engraved locket.”

Your face burned so hot that not even the biting cold of the winter day could soothe your flushed cheeks. “My apologies Park. I did not mean to make a big deal out of it. I just wished to thank you. That is all.”

Jimin’s face hardened, his facial muscles tightening until there was a severe and harsh look on his face that had nothing to do with the weather, “You wished to thank me Y/N? For performing the Cruciatus Curse on you more than a hundred times? How unusual.”

Looking down, focusing your gaze on Jimin’s waterproof expensive Chelsea boots, which were undoubtedly steel-toed given Jimin’s personality, you forced yourself to reply to his needlessly cruel words, “N-Not for that Jimin. For what happened after.”

Jimin frowned, “Everything I do, is to save my own hide, Y/N. You can’t.”

“I can’t what?” you asked, your eyes watering from the sting of the cold weather, and something more, “I know what I can’t do Jimin.”

“Then why did you send me the gift?” he asked rudely.

“So, what if I did, Jimin?” you bit out, “Why did you come for me afterwards?”

“You know why,” he grated out, “I had to find out why.”

“Are you sure?” you asked looking defiantly at him, you gaze locked to the hollow of his neck, “Is that why you are wearing it?”

“You are a masochist,” Jimin whispered coming towards you, answering the question he had asked you at the beginning of that first detention. As you moved to stand up, he grabbed you behind the neck pulling your face close to his. As you moved towards him, your eyelids flickering shut and your lips moving towards his expectantly, you felt the most unpleasant sensation of everything pressing at you from all directions all at once. The pair of you were enveloped in darkness as your body felt like it was being compressed into a narrow tube with your limbs contorting to fit inside. Within seconds it was over, and you found yourself with Jimin standing outside of some place that was definitely not West Yorkshire, as you were standing on the cobblestones in a rather untidy alley.

“You,” your voice was filled with rage, “Where did you Apparate us to?” You could not believe his audacity. Immediately, you were reminded of how he was a Slytherin and in the back pockets of the Death Eaters that ruled over Hogwarts presently. Giving him the gift had been a mistake. Had he Apparated you to your doom? Was he going to turn you over to the Ministry and claim that you were an Undesirable? You had tried your hardest to slip under the radar and hide your sympathy for the Chosen One and his cause.

Jimin appeared unaffected by the caustic bite in your tone, “Paris. You wanted to be romanced by a man who is clearly not right for you. You’re obviously a glutton for punishment,” his voice rang out as he started walking.

You could not control your feet to keep from following him. You could have just as easily Apparated home, but for some reason you did not. “I’m not a MASOCHIST!” you protested as you chased after Jimin.

When you caught up to Jimin, the Slytherin looked more at ease and more carefree than you had ever seen him. He had tucked his dark gray cap into his coat’s pocket and had let his usually severe hair, that was normally stiffened by gel, get ruffled by the wind. His hair looked so soft, and there was a rosy flush on his cheeks that made you notice for the first time, the light scattering of pale freckles across the plump planes of his face. His thick plaid scarf dangled loosely around his neck instead of being meticulously wrapped around his neck and tucked into his coat. He raised an eyebrow at you roguishly when he noticed you staring at him with your mouth open in amazement. “What?” he asked lightly, “Close your mouth Y/N. You don’t want a Doxy to fly in it.”

“You look–” you paused, stopping before you had almost blurted out beautiful. “Different. When did you dye your hair back to black?” you said instead.

You tried to convince yourself that you were imagining that slight look of disappointment that appeared on his face before he opened his mouth to reply to you, “Apparently silver is an unprofessional hair color.”

“Is it?” you murmured, sneaking your hand around his right one and grabbing a hold of it.

Jimin stopped so abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk that the other passersby had to step around the two of you. He looked down at the joined hands, seeming to wrestle with something within the confines of his mind. After a moment, he seemed to have come to a decision. His hand tightened around yours and he picked up his pace, pulling you gently along with him. You thought he had forgotten that you had asked him a question until he answered five minutes later, “My parents want me to work as a Junior Assistant for Minister Yang when I graduate from Hogwarts.”

You frowned, realizing the harsh reality of the world the two of you were currently living in. Jimin was expected to go to work in the Ministry of the Magic after Seventh year was over. You did not think that he was a Death Eater, but as a Pureblood he would have to undoubtedly keep up certain appearances. Would Jimin be helping the Ministry pass even more laws that ensured the disenfranchisement of Muggleborns and other magical beings? As for you and what you would be doing in the spring after graduation? Your father had gone into hiding in North America, although your mother would not tell you where exactly, fearing that you would break down under one of the Lees’ extreme punishments and reveal it. You thought your mother would want the two of you to join him and his family; to create a new life for all of you there, where the effect of Europe’s warfare was still minimal.

“Do you want to go to the Louvre?” Jimin asked.

“I didn’t know that you were interested in Muggle art, Park,” you replied.

Jimin rolled his eyes, “I’m hardly going to take you to the Museum of the History of European Wizardry, Y/N. The point of this trip was to feel free to be ourselves without having to constantly look over our shoulders. Unfortunately, that means that we have to surround ourselves with Muggles. But I didn’t think that you’d mind.”

Your face tightened, a fraction, in displeasure. Park Jimin was such an asshole. He probably was not even aware of it half the time. You tried to convince yourself that this part of his character could be worked on and fixed. He had been raised to be an annoying bigoted asshole. You knew there was more to him, or else he would have never ‘debased’ himself to spend time with you and to see you as a romantic interest.

As you two walked closer to the Musée du Louvre, its glass pyramid structures came into view. You sighed wistfully, when would you have another chance to be in Paris again? If Voldemort’s plans moved on to France after he was done razing England to the ground, there was no saying that the impressive and centuries old structures of France would remain standing afterwards. You were just wishing that you could take a picture of yourself in front of the museum as a permanent record of this day when Jimin pulled his hand off of yours to reach into his front coat pocket to take out a small black pouch. You looked at him curiously. What was Park up to now?

He pulled his entire arm into the tiny pouch which made you gasp in mild horror before you realized that he most likely had bespelled it with an Undetectable Extension Charm. One would think that by now you would be used to sights of magic in front of you, but it still managed to surprise you every single day. From within the cavernous confines of his bag, Jimin pulled out a clunky Polaroid camera that made you stifle a small giggle when you thought of your father and his impressive Canon cameras. “Do you want a polaroid of you in front of the Louvre?” he asked.

Reaching for his hand and dragging him to a place where you were sure you would be able to capture both the massive building and the impressive pyramids behind you, you replied, “Only if we are both in the picture.”

Hours later when you were lying in bed at your mother’s cottage, able to hear her tea kettle making a loud whistling noise that carried its way into your room, you recounted the events of the day. You thought of the wine Jimin had stolen, since the two of you were still not adults in the Muggle world (you had left a 20 euro note at the register without him noticing) and the warm cheesy corniottes wrapped in newspaper you two had shared as you stared at the self-facing Polaroid he had managed to get the two of you in front of the Lourve. The tiny Y/N in the image was smiling brighter than you had in the past two years and the tiny Jimin’s smirk in the image could almost be mistaken for a smile if you squinted. Jimin had written in his spiky tiny handwriting on the white border of the Polaroid, “12/28/97 – I long to feel this calm for the rest of my life.”

Sighing, you sat up in bed and turned to tuck the photograph inside your pillowcase. You did not see how you and Jimin could ever have more than that one magical day in Paris, without magic, between the two of you. When the term started up again and the two of you returned to classes, you would have to pretend that the other did not exist for either of you, once again.

…

 You were a fool in love. That was the only thing that could explain why you had helped Jeon Jungkook graffiti the castle walls with red paint. The rebellious Gryffindors and you had taken to seeking out in the middle of the night to inscribe Dumbledore’s Army, Still Recruiting and other incendiary remarks that had irritated Headmaster Snape to no end. Sometimes you felt a little guilty. The others were putting their lives on the line because they truly believed in the cause and were fighting for all magical beings, no matter their background. And while you did believe the same, you were not as passionate or outspoken as your House mates. You were doing it to get the attention of the antisocial Head Boy who had gone back to pretending that you did not exist the moment the two of you had stepped back on to the Hogwarts’ grounds after the New Year’s holiday.

It was like Jimin no longer cared about you; that one miraculous day in Paris was so buried in the deepest fissures of his subconscious that he could not call it up to the surface. You had half the mind to Stupefy him and drag him to the Headmaster’s office where you had heard that Snape kept a Pensieve. Perhaps when he was forced to watch your memories with you, he would finally be forced to admit that what the two of you had shared on one of the last days of 1997 had been something special.

When it was finally time for the Easter holiday, you were forced to admit that perhaps you had to give up on Park Jimin. The war still waged on and the Light side was losing badly. You tried to keep up to date with the current events by listening to Goldenwatch radio broadcasts but the punishments for conspiring against Voldemort kept escalating. Kim Yerim had never come back after the Christmas holiday, taken because her mother, Irene, was a journalist who had become too outspoken on her publication, Red Velvet. With radio frequencies being controlled, the magazine Red Velvet being out of print, and every way of communication being watched, it was hard for anyone to keep up with the war in real-time. News of the Light side was hard to come by; the Dark Lord and his followers were doing everything they could to have their opponents scared, ignorant, and divided.

Every time you took a stand against the Headmaster or his minions, you were afraid for your mother’s life. What if the army of Snatchers, the wizards and witches that were not given the distinction of being worthy enough to be Death Eaters, which included the likes of the werewolf Kang Jihwan, came for your mother? You would never forgive yourself if your mother was attacked by werewolves, giants, or other dark creatures because of you. Furthermore, when the Lees started to chain students again, like the ones you and Jimin had saved, a Ravenclaw had gotten caught trying to release them. The torture they had put the male through had terrified you, even more so because his fate had been so close to being yours.

You had lost weight due to all the duress you had been under. All the students at Hogwarts were looking worse for wear. Easter could not come soon enough. And when it did, you were careful to leave the things that you could live without behind in your dormitory so that the Lees did not get suspicious of you leaving Hogwarts forever. The moment a student left, they were hunted down like a criminal. The crime? Not complying with the compulsory school attendance that the Ministry had decreed. When the time came for you to lug your trunk onto the Hogwarts Express, you found yourself reminded of the first day of the school year, when you had run into Jimin and almost pissed your robes. How things had changed so drastically in only a few months, you thought wistfully. Now you would do almost anything to run into him, to grab his attention.

Jimin was right, you thought bitterly, you were a glutton for punishment and absolutely a masochist. He was a pureblood enthusiast though he appeared to be mellowing and not so steadfast with retaining the Death Eater’s fascist ideas anymore. But it was embarrassing the way that you had fallen for a male who had literally compared you to vermin not so recently. To be fair, it was not like you used to have a good impression of Park or had held him to a high standard either. But sometimes you hated yourself for falling for someone who was literally associated with people who murdered people like your father for fun. It was a game for them. They got off on Muggle-baiting.

With your thoughts spinning around your mind like a turbulent tornado, and upsetting your stomach, you thought that maybe it was for the best that you had not caught a last glimpse of Park before you left him forever.

…

While you sat in a train compartment towards the end of the scarlet Hogwarts’ Express trying your best not to remain calm and nonchalant, so as not to raise suspicions about your intentions to drop out of school, fearful of getting hunted by the armed wizards that would be guarding Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Jimin sat alone in the Prefect compartment behind the teachers’ cabins. He had long kicked out the other Prefects and the Head Girl, removing them at the beginning of the trip, with them knowing better than to argue with Jimin and against his actions. Although it was rare for the Head Boy to lose his temper, it had been known to happen a few rare times in the past, and everyone at school was aware of how dangerous and volatile an enraged Park could be.

Jimin had spent the last two months going over to the Headmaster’s office late at night to practice Occlumency. Although he had thought he was improving, every lesson had ended with the headmaster snarling at him and calling him incompetent while throwing jabs at Jimin’s family tree. And if Professor Snape truly was right and Jimin was no better off than he was when he had started, then it had all been for nothing. Even more so for naught, because Jimin had been having a growing sense of unease and unsettlement, as the Lees whiffed around him every single day with increasingly harsh attitudes that were revealing of their suspicion surrounding Jimin.

He had no idea what was making them watch over him so carefully. He had no way of knowing if he had done anything to cause them to be wary over his motives, but it was exhausting trying to keep up the façade. The Dark Arts and Muggle Studies bored him, and although he could have gotten away with skipping half of the lessons earlier in the school year, citing boredom as his excuse, that was no longer the case as the Lees expected him to show up promptly to each lesson and put a hundred percent of his concentration into their teachings. The siblings also did not believe that he had prior knowledge of necromancy or curses like Fiendfyre, and thus felt that they were teaching him things that were truly worth knowing. That part was debatable; no one needed such an extensive overview of the Dark Arts. Every lesson left him feeling worse for wear mentally, physically, and emotionally. He would often find himself ducking into the girl’s bathroom on the second floor, where only the Moaning Myrtle could be found, to throw up the contents of his breakfast or lunch hunched over one of the many porcelain bowls. The Dark Arts were disturbing and criminal. No wonder they were outlawed, thought Jimin bitterly as he remembered the ordeal that was the winter term. Even more so than that, he remembered the portrait of Albus Dumbledore telling him, after one of his many Occlumency lessons, that every time Dark magic was used, it left an irremovable stain on a person’s soul. The previous Headmaster had cautioned Jimin’s usage of Dark Magic, telling him to only use it in the situations where he saw no other options. Jimin had scoffed at his providence at the time, but with every lesson with the Lees, he grew further apprehensive about the state of his soul and its uncontrollable deterioration. It was a little reminiscent of Dorian Gray who Y/N had told him about during their momentary bit of solitude away from the War a few days before the New Year.

Speaking of the two irritating nuisances in his life, before he had boarded the Express, Lee Seunghyun, the Dark Arts professor, had slipped a sealed, presumably cursed, envelope into Jimin’s hand. The note apparently contained directives from the Dark Lord on how Jimin was to spend his Easter holiday. If anyone other than Jimin broke the seal, they would be inflicted with whatever curse or hex the Dark Lord had bespelled it with. And with the Dark Lord being such a formidable and powerful wizard, even the Lees had not risked it and tried to see what was within the confines of the envelope. Now, Jimin bitterly took it out of the folds of his black school robes, slipping one of his fingers underneath the triangular flap to break open the dark green seal with the Dark mark imprinted on it. Within it, Jimin found a curt missive detailing his duties for the spring vacation which included rushing off to the Min Manor the second that he set foot on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Apparently, the Dark Lord would not be there, but Mins would give Jimin further instruction.

Because Jimin was loathsome to ever fall asleep in a public space and leave himself vulnerable to threats, he decided instead to rest his forehead against the cool glass of the train and watch as the trees and hills went by in a heavenly green blur and slowly turned into the gray and polluted landscape of London. Once at the platform, after he had transfigured his luggage to be a size that he could easily slip within the deep pockets of his coat, he Apparated a tenth of a mile away from the Min Manor. The narrow lane that lead to the entrance of the Min Manor had on one side of it, the formerly neatly manicured hedges that made up the perimeter of the Min property and on the other, wild low hanging brambles. As he approached the wide driveway at the end of the lane, thick high iron wrought gates suddenly became visible. With hardly a sidestep, Jimin confidently rose his left arm, the one disfigured with the emblem of the Death Eaters and went straight through the metal as though it were as thin and vaporous as smoke. The spell that the Dark Lord had casted over the entrance was similar to the magic which made up the protective barrier at the King’s Cross station.

The air within the manor was stiff with an almost grim and hostile silence surrounding it. When it was broken by the shrill cry of what Jimin thought was a screaming infant, he almost jumped in the air at the unpleasant intrusion. As he walked towards the magnificent dining room that the Mins had used to hold extravagant gatherings in the past, where Purebloods used to dance and rejoice in their wealth and magical abilities, he was once again struck by the change to the formerly grand home. The centuries old stunning furniture that furnished the room were pushed against the walls, harshly stabbing into the soft gilded silk wallpaper. The giant fireplace was unlit, and the room was filled with an uncomfortable chill. At the head of the table sat Min Yeonsoo, cradling a baby bundled in a clean swath of fabric with a spiteful look on her face. Jimin’s classmate Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He had had a higher position with the Dark Lord than Jimin had and had stopped attending classes after Christmas. Jimin had to wonder however, if the reason Yoongi was not at Hogwarts was because the Mins had let the Golden Trio escape, and the Dark Lord had wanted to exact his wrath and displeasure on them.

Before Jimin could clear his throat to reveal his presence, Cho Sanghee entered the room in a furious flurry of billowing dark robes. She looked gaunter and more maniacal than ever, causing Jimin to take a step back. He quickly uttered a prayer begging the heavens that Sanghee was not the one who would be telling him why he was at the manor, but luck was not on his side.

With a crazed screeching laugh that raised the hairs on Jimin’s neck and instantly put him on guard, Sanghee crooked a long filthy fingernail at Jimin, gesturing at him to come closer. Stifling a shudder, he obliged her, stopping well over five feet away. “The Dark Lord wants you to take of a delivery for him little Park.”

Jimin clenched his teeth in response to the address but did not retaliate, knowing better than to antagonize the Dark Lord’s most devoted servant when he himself held such a low position in the Dark Lord’s eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Cho,” he murmured, “And where is this package I am to deliver?”

“I’m so glad you asked little Park,” cackled Sanghee flicking her unruly black curls away with an indolent sweep of her wand, presumably this was a wand that Sanghee had repurposed, or rather stolen, away from one of the Snatchers after the Golden Trio had absconded with hers. “The Dark Lord wishes for you to look over this package and deliver it to Snape at Hogwarts at the end of the week. It is right behind you, little boy.”

With sinking feelings of apprehension and doom, Jimin turned around and swallowed the scream that was struggling to escape from the confines of his throat. Nagini, the Dark Lord’s massive serpent, was slinking towards him through the air, trapped in a giant magical orb of her owner’s creation, no doubt. Jimin was not terrified of snakes. How could he be, as a Slytherin? That being said, there was something unnatural about Nagini that held Jimin back from ever relaxing in her company. The snake had an unignorable intelligence that seemed to be far greater than all the other snakes that Jimin had ever seen. And with the Dark Lord’s ability to converse with his pet in Parseltongue, Jimin had no doubt that Nagini often acted as a spy for him.

He felt trapped within his own skin; this was no ordinary task that was being asked of him. The Dark Lord wished to spy on Jimin and then to spy on the Headmaster. “How is it that the Dark Lord wishes for me to transport Nagini to Headmaster Snape,” Jimin murmured, “I can already imagine the panic on the train platform if I tried to board the Hogwarts’ Express with her in tow.”

A sharp voice cut across the room, “You will not have to deliver Nagini to Severus at Hogwarts,” Yeonsoo bit out acidly, “you merely have to deliver Nagini to his home.” She looked down at the child in her arm with contempt before maneuvering the babe around so that she could use her right hand to write down the Headmaster’s address on a scrap of loose parchment. The question clung to the back of Jimin’s throat, but he bit it down. Whose child was that? Did Yoongi get into even more trouble than Jimin had previously thought?

Jimin walked towards Yeonsoo so that she could easily slip the note into his open palm. After he retrieved it, both sisters walked away from him, leaving him alone in the formal dining room with Nagini. Furrowing his eyebrows as he thought of how to transport her to his home, he decided to just walk out of the manor for now. Nagini had been able to glide through the air of her own volition before, so he hoped that the snake would choose to follow him as he left the room. In times like this, it would have been convenient to have been a Parseltongue, he supposed, but as that was a mark of the noble house of Slytherins, and the Dark Lord was all that remained of the ancient house, he highly doubted that there would ever be more Parseltongues. The thought of someone procreating with the 72-year-old dark wizard made bile rise up in Jimin’s mouth.

Once he had made his way back to the outskirts of the Min property, he finally had the chance to look at the address that was on the now tightly crumpled ball of parchment due to his clenched fist. The Headmaster lived in Spinner’s End, which was unusual as Jimin had never come across the name once in his studies of the magical geography of Great Britain. Deciding to worry about that later, Jimin stood in place with his right arm wrapped tightly around his wand as Nagini slowly glided to a stop right beside him.

“I hope this works,” Jimin muttered to himself, before raising one arm to place his hand flush against the wall of Nagini’s cage before attempting to Apparate the two of them to the edges of his family property in Surrey. Fortunately he was successful in his endeavors, and as he slowly walked up to the front of the mansion, he was trapped within his swirling thoughts as he worried over not only Nagini watching over him, but owling the Headmaster to arrange for a time that he could drop by with Nagini, and most importantly, how to warn you to stay away from Jimin and maybe to escape from England and not come back. He could convince you that he would follow you after graduation, but you had to get away. Now, more than ever, Jimin knew with a sense of deepening doom, that the Dark Lord’s takeover of Britain was almost complete. It would not be long before he attempted to off The Boy Who Lived to end their wretched tango and moved on to extend his control and reach over the entire European continent.

He delegated Nagini to the empty bedroom at the end of the hall from his. The two rooms were both on the west wing of the house but far enough apart that he had a little privacy. But even that was not enough to shake away Jimin’s fears. Sometimes at night while he laid in bed, he thought that he heard the serpent’s heavy slinking body moving down the hall past his bedroom. His fear grew that one day he would happen upon his owl’s carcass or that of Chimmy’s.

…

The one weeklong break from school felt both unendurably long and ephemerally fleeting both at once. He had penned two short missives to both you and the professor but thus far had received no reply from either of you. The unbearable monotony of his days, as Jimin was fearful of Nagini reporting to the Dark Lord about his whereabouts if he ever left the Park mansion, were only punctuated by the meals that Chimmy served to his room (his parents were both off gallivanting across the countryside torturing Muggles or something of that sort so he rarely met them in the formal dining room for meals together), him taking out Nagini to the manor’s extensive gardens to hunt for her meals, and the unending revisions and studying for the NEWTs Jimin was currently preparing for. It seemed catastrophically ridiculous that the NEWT and OWL examinations were still taking place while the entire country as a literal warzone.

Unfortunately for Jimin, you responded to his letter before Jimin could drop off Nagini at the Headmaster’s. With your letter, where you had told him you would meet him near where he had eaten ice cream last time, you had included three chocolate eggs that, were closer to the size of dragon eggs than chicken’s eggs and, had on them messily scribbled icing depicting Firebolts, Bludgers, and Beater’s bats. You were always surprising Jimin with your gifts and generosity. For someone who had never received anything without stipulations, it was a welcome change for Jimin to receive your presents which did not have any strings or conditions attached to them.

Thus, midway through the holiday, Jimin found himself taking his neglected Firebolt out of its case and electing to fly out of the windows framing his bedroom’s walls rather than to come across Nagini or his parents (who would occasionally show up as mysteriously and unexpectedly as ghosts) in the hallways, if he had chosen to leave through the front door.

The brisk breeze was a welcome presence to Jimin, after being stuck indoors for a majority of the week. He swept through the air on his Firebolt, taking sharp dives and turns, whooping spiritedly as he flew by miles above the buildings in the uncongested sky that was wide open and free, aside from a couple of birds that flew by doing their own thing.

He once again stopped at the long open meadow he had Apparated to last time. As this was a Muggle neighborhood, he decided to transfigure his broomstick to the size of a matchstick he could slip into the breast pocket of his light linen shirt before he took off on his walk. He found the ice cream shop much more easily this time around and decided to get a cup with a single spoon of vanilla ice cream for himself. For you, he got a two-scoop cup of peanut butter and berries n creme ice cream. Once he reached the park, he sat again on the same iron wrought bench from last time, placing your cup besides his thigh as he splayed his legs out and took a bite of the rich vanilla ice cream. He was not going to focus on how he was recreating the last time the two of you had spent time together and how he was making slight changes so that this time would be better.

Like clockwork, you once again appeared in front of him. Stifling a wince, he noticed how you looked at least a stone lighter than you had been last time. Your face was sharp with harsh angles and your cheekbones were jutting out making your face lose the soft round planes that it had had previously. The chocolate eggs you had included with your letter had made Jimin hopeful, but now, looking at you and the hard glare you cut across his figure, he realized that he had to make up for more of his mistakes than he had realized.

“Why are you here Jimin?” you bit out caustically, “What was so important for you to say that you could not say it with a letter.” You were surprised with how easily his owl had found you in Austria. Returning to an empty cottage and a letter from your mother that she was running off to Asia to hide, you had been country hopping to places your mother had not been to confuse the Snatchers that were no doubt tracking your every move and attempting them to prevent them from figuring out your final destination, or capturing both you and your mother. You were mad at yourself for being swayed by Jimin’s letter and coming back to England. But in the end, you had decided to meet up with him if only to convince Jimin that you were still living in West Yorkshire and to throw off the Death Eaters from your trail. Casting a casual look around the park, you attempted to quiet the furious beating of your heart, although no one had realized it yet and raised any alarms, you were technically on the run and you felt very unsafe being back within the borders of England.

Jimin stood and placed the now slightly melted ice cream in your hand, the creamy brown, purple, and white colors were already running into each other and muddling the appearance of the dessert. With a bemused furrow of your eyebrows, you curled your hand around the cup and stabbed the plastic spoon through one of the scoops, dipping a spoonful of sweet, warm, ice cream into your mouth. “Perhaps we should have this conversation somewhere that is not as crowded,” Jimin murmured, walking away without pausing to see if you would follow.

He led the two of you to one of the communal fields that the sheep were grazing on before he turned sharply to gaze deeply into your eyes and say without so much as a preamble, “You need to leave England now.”

You stopped dead, choking as the melted ice cream went down the wrong pipe. That was certainly not what you thought he was going to say. You had thought, after the chocolates and notes were long gone and all you had was your regret to accompany you, that Jimin was going to lay into it today and detail all the reasons the two of you could not be together. After all, he had ignored you pretty thoroughly for all of 1998 thus far. You had thought that had meant he had changed his mind. “I beg your pardon Park?”

Jimin frowned when he noticed you using his last name, distancing yourself even further from him. “I am worried about the future Y/N,” he mumbled.

“You want me to leave? Right now?” you asked, seeking for more clarity.

“As soon as possible Y/N. I don’t want you to get hurt. You have to stay safe,” Jimin bit out vehemently.

“And why is that?” you asked, not giving into him so easily. You wanted Jimin to grovel. You were tired of always being the one who felt out of sorts when the two of you were together.

Jimin sighed. His dark brown eyes fluttered shut as he whispered, “I think I am falling in love with you. I don’t even know that I know what love is, and yet, I am convinced that it is the emotion I feel for you. I know we cannot be together, but all the while, I still long for a possibility that would allow for us to be together.”

Your cheeks felt like they were burning as your blood surged into them, making them a mottled red. You had thought you were infatuated with Jimin. Or perhaps, suffering from some type of Stockholm’s syndrome because like it or not, all of you were forced to attend Hogwarts and Jimin, outside of the few Gryffindors you talked to, was the only person who had noticed you and was kind to you, at times. But never had you considered that it might be love, anytime you got close to feeling anything of the sort, you had thought you were getting brainwashed. Not by Jimin per se, but you had thought that Jimin had had an unreasonable power over you when you contrasted him with all the other Purebloods and Slytherins that inhabited Hogwarts. But now that you knew how he felt about you, you were inclined to believe that you had also fallen in love with him. After all, it was being reciprocated, was it not.

Perhaps the reason why you took that step towards Jimin and tiptoed to meet his lips had a lot to do with you being a Gryffindor. After all, a move like that required a lot of courage, it was perhaps misplaced, but all the same it was courage. The male inclined his neck to make the kiss easier for you to lose yourself in, and you felt yourself getting swept away in his full pink lips. Jimin was a marvelous kisser, he met every swipe of your lips with his own thoroughly, even if he was moving at a patient pace. Slowly though, you felt him get bolder, wrapping his muscle corded arms, bulky from playing the Beater position, around your waist and pulling you deeper into his hold. When he bit your bottom lip to trick you into opening it so that he could slip his tongue into the kiss, you got daring as well. You tiptoed even further, pressing into the warm glorious heat emitting from his body, and reached up into his hair to do what you had always longed to do: to slip your hands into the long straight strands of his dark hair and luxuriate in its softness. You fisted his hair in your grip, your nails raking against his scalp, causing a pleased sound of contentment to escape from Jimin, as you tried to kiss him more soundly. When the two of you finally broke apart minutes later, Jimin was running his tongue over his swollen reddened lips as he looked down at you with want and you were leaning against his solid, reassuring frame, pressing your forehead against his chest as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Do you want to go for a ride on my Firebolt?” he asked abruptly.

You raised an eyebrow as you bit back a laugh, “Very forward Mr. Park.”

Jimin flushed crimson, “I actually flew my broom here instead of Apparating. I wanted to experience the freeing feeling of being in the air rather than getting suctioned into nothingness as I reappeared in a different location.” He patted along the front of his pale linen shirt, feeling around for something before he took out a tiny matchstick from the breast pocket triumphantly. Laying it flat on his left hand, he poked at it with his wand, uttering an enlargement spell as the stick grew to be the full-sized Firebolt you had seen only once before.

Quirking an eyebrow at you daringly, Jimin smirked as if to say, “So? What are you waiting for?” Unfortunately, Gryffindors had never been ones to ignore the ribbing of Slytherins and so you found yourself easily sliding behind Jimin as he sat on his broomstick, waiting for you to get comfortable before he kicked off into the afternoon sky.

You sat on the Firebolt with your arms wrapped tightly along Jimin’s waist and your chin resting on his shoulder as he expertly flew the two of you across the long expanse of cloudless British skies. Striving to impress you, Jimin would often take swift turns and break into complicated moves, maneuvering the two of you into various types of dives and even asking you if you thought you could hold onto him tightly enough for him to attempt a Wronski Feint. You had thumped him soundly on his back and told him you would immediately Apparate off the broomstick if he attempted any more dangerous Quidditch formations.

Subdued into submission, Jimin took you two on a relatively peaceful ride as you were left to wonder why he played the position of the Beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team when he was obviously qualified to play one of the positions that required more dexterity like Chaser or Seeker. When you asked Jimin why he had not played as Seeker he laughed and said that the Mins had paid for Yoongi to be given that position and it would never have been so easily relinquished to him. He also had bitterly added, that by the time Sixth year had rolled around, and Yoongi had left the team to work on his plan to have Death Eaters invade Hogwarts, the team had become accustomed to having Jimin be their star Beater who would always give the Gryffindors hell and did not wish for him to change positions.

You clung to him even more tightly after his admission, feeling sorry for Jimin as he was always surrounded by people who would not allow him to truly be himself. You also were a bit surprised at how readily Jimin had admitted Yoongi’s hand in the events that had led to Headmaster Dumbledore’s death. As Jimin felt your tightening grip around his middle, a soft smile graced his face and he slowly declined the Firebolt as he prepared for the descent to your destination. He stopped in an alley besides a row of townhouses that went down the entire length of the street.

Raising an eyebrow as you attempted to fix your windswept hair, you asked, “Jimin where are we?”

With a smile Jimin responded, “Give me a second,” as he searched his pockets for a scrap of parchment and a self-refilling quill. After biting at the nib of the quill to free the ink, Jimin quickly scrawled down an address in his thin spiky handwriting. “Memorize it,” he muttered, “I’m the Secret Keeper.”

You quickly memorized the lines: Park Jimin’s residence is 0613 Amaranthine Street, London. As soon as Jimin had seen you wordlessly mouth the sentence twice over, he set it on fire with a small incendiary spell. As the two of you made your way out of the alley, Jimin took your hand in his and gently pulled you along to the front of the houses. In front of the two of you, you could see 0612 Amaranthine with its beige exterior and 0614 Amaranthine with its gray walls, however, as you visualized the words on the paper that Jimin had written, 0613 began to materialize between the two homes, pushing them out of the way until it stood before you in its shining white and navy glory.

“So, this is where you live,” you muttered, following Jimin up the walk to the front door. As soon as Jimin’s hand touched the door handle, he was able to push it open with ease since the door was opening as though Jimin himself was the key.

“Not yet,” he uttered, looking back at you as he toed off his shoes at the entrance. Apparently Jimin liked to have a no shoes allowed household, which surprised you. You had always thought of him as the severe type of person who was meticulous about everything right down to the clothes that he worn. “It’s the bachelor lodgings my parents got for me for after graduation. But since I’m still splitting my time between my parents and Hogwarts, it’s been empty for months. Apologies in advance if it’s a little dusty.”

“No this is fine,” you answered him, stepping out of your own shoes and walking deeper into the foyer. You liked the welcoming airy style the house was made up in. The pale colors and expansive windows everywhere provided the home with tons of light that made it appear spacious and inviting.

Jimin let you go through the rooms of the house without interruption. He knew you were touring it trying to gain further insight about him but unfortunately, the home did not have a lot to offer. When his mother had asked him for his opinion on the furniture and décor, Jimin had delegated Chimmy to furnishing the place. You seemed to come to the same realization as Jimin after you finally paused your tour in the master bedroom, turning to face him with a wry expression.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, not knowing how to make things move smoothly for the two of you.

While that day in Paris had been amazing, Jimin could not recreate it by being in public with you now. He was certain he was getting watched by the Dark Lord, although he did not know to which extent besides that of Nagini, but he knew he would be safe here at Amaranthine Street. The home had the same level of protection and security that the Park mansion did; it had been historically used as the first-born Park’s bachelor pad until they got married and moved back to the family mansion. Perhaps the two of you could play Wizarding board games or something, Jimin did not fucking know. He had never really dated anyone, choosing to spend most of his time with the opposite sex cozied in broom cupboards or deserted classrooms for heated make out sessions.

With a mocking laugh, you pulled Jimin into you, “I hardly think you brought me to your home when there’s no adults to sit around and eat together Jimin,” you murmured, threading your fingers through his thick black hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

With slight groan, Jimin deepened the kiss, his teeth nipping at your warm plush lower lip as he strove for the dominance that you, as a Gryffindor would not give him so easily. You fought against Jimin’s warring strokes of tongue and lips against your mouth, not wanting to relinquish your control, as he roughly held you up to elongate the length of the kisses. You were sure that without Jimin gripping you, you would have sunk to the floor as you felt strangely boneless.

Deciding to give you a respite and a chance to catch your breath, Jimin moved his lips to trail heated open mouthed kisses along your jaw and throat with firm pressure from his plush lips as he maneuvered the two of you so that you were pressed up against a wall. Your eyes closed at the pleasurable nips and pecks, the warmth from Jimin’s form taking over you as your senses his scent washed over you. The slightly bitter and sharp scent of orange blossoms that was so quintessentially evocative of Jimin filled your lungs as you ran your hands over his muscle corded back. Playing as the Beater had bulked Jimin up; he had enticingly broad shoulders and thick veiny arms that were holding you up while he did not even break a sweat. As your fingers slipped under his linen shirt and fluttered against his back, Jimin stilled. Shaking his head slightly, he accidentally scrunched his nose at you when he attempted to wink, rather, both of his eyes shut close for a second. Fixing his grip on your thighs, he pushed you even higher and tighter against his body as he maneuvered the two of you towards his bed, which fortunately had clean sheets due to Chimmy coming back and maintaining the house weekly.

As you toppled onto the bed with Jimin falling over you, you gasped, your breath getting knocked out of you although Jimin tried his best to keep from crushing your frame with his body. You had been wearing a pair of white jeans shorts and a pale blue baby-doll T-shirt to battle the early heat of the English spring, and Jimin was now taking advantage of your easy to slip off clothes to unbutton your shorts and slip them down your thighs as he caged you underneath him. The shorts hit the hardwood floors with a resounding thud when Jimin tossed them behind the two of you.

You started to blush when you realized that you only had your daisy printed cotton panties and T-shirt, that had already been sliding up your stomach, to shield you from Jimin’s gaze. With a light laugh, Jimin murmured, “Come on Y/L/N, don’t get shy with me now. You wouldn’t want me to tie your hands up so that you wouldn’t cover yourself now, would you?”

You glared at him, his palm was lying comfortably on top of your clothed mound, hardly realizing the overpowering effect he had on you. If Jimin crooked his finger into the juncture between your thighs, he would find the crotch of your panties soaked from your want. “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes Park?” you bit back.

Jimin scoffed, “That’s a little too easy isn’t it?”

Instead, he hooked his forefinger to the ribboned edge of your panties, pulling it almost entirely off your body. At the last moment, he had gotten distracted by your glistening rose petaled folds and had left it dangling from your left foot. He took out his wand to summon a large selection of cushions and pillows for you to prop your ass on. It was weird having your head resting against the bed’s mattress while your ass was elevated to be level with Park Jimin’s mouth. In fact, just now, he was propping your thighs on his shoulders as he moved closer to your heated core, wanting the sopping wetness of your femininity to be flush against his eager mouth.

As his tongue stabbed through your highly responsive cunt, brushing against the nerves that lined the walls of your hypersensitive core, your nipples stiffened against the cups of the built-in bra of your shirt. In frustration, you found yourself pulling off the material entirely to let the cool air in the bedroom wash over your hardened nipples. Jimin paused in his overzealous adoration of your cunt as he stared at you writhing against his cream-colored bedsheets. “Touch yourself, Y/L/N,” he murmured silkily, “Do it Gryffindor, or I won’t let you come.”

Hesitantly, you moved both of your hands up to cup your breasts. They were heavy and swollen from desire, spilling out of your palms. But staring Jimin down, you rolled your nipples in between your thumbs and forefingers, letting out a loud moan when you pinched them both simultaneously. Deciding to reward you, Jimin added a finger into the mix as he continued to eat out your pussy enthusiastically. You had never had anyone pay such fervent attention to your own pleasure before. The Gryffindor boys that you had usually hooked up with were all focused on the main course. And not only that, but they were all the “one and done” type, never checking to make sure that you had come, much less bothering to give you multiple bouts of pleasure.

After Jimin had brought you to your first screaming orgasm, he knocked the pillows out of the way so that you were in a more comfortable position. He made his way up your body with deep punishing kisses that were full of teasing love bites that you knew would leave your body dotted with bruised purplish hickeys and marks afterwards. Having finally reached your face, he threaded his fingers through your messy unbound hair, pulling your mouth tight against his for a kiss with a deep growl. His body pressed against yours, his heavy cock finding your hidden softness easily, pleasurably unyielding against the juncture of your thighs. He rocked his hips as he deepened the kiss, your lips meeting his feverishly as the two of you battled for domination, your tongues intertwining frantically as moans and pants slipped out both of your lips. His hard, persistent erection had your pussy aching for it, and you found yourself rolling your hips and grinding your enlarged and overly sensitive clit against the hard metal zipper of his pants, eager to have the thick throbbing length trapped against the zipper within you.

Deciding to ignore Jimin’s snarky comment about it being too easy from earlier, you found yourself unbuckling and unlooping his leather belt from his pants so that you could free his cock. You could feel Jimin frowning into your kiss, so you distracted him by sucking his tongue in between his lips as you clenched your fingers around his pants and underwear to push it down past his hard ass cheeks so that you could finally free his monstrous cock. You immediately put your hand on it, wrapping your fingers around it, eager to finally feel the warm heat of his long smooth length. His balls felt huge in your palm as you gently tugged on them causing Jimin to let out a loud moan that had him instantly grabbing your hands and quickly pulling them over your head as he held them tightly in the grip of his left hand. With his dominant hand, he pushed off his pants completely, kicking them off the bed. “Don’t test me Y/N. Or I’ll take my pleasure and not even think about giving you yours.”

You protested loudly at that, causing him to let out a husky laugh, “Okay, okay, vixen, I’ll let you have your pleasure and take it too.”

Still holding your arms above your head, he sank to his knees in between your widespread thighs. His dark brown eyes sought yours as he fought to hold your gaze, staring into your eyes resolutely while he gripped his reddened cock in his hand and maneuvered it to the entrance to your pussy. The head of his cock was glistening with precum as it sought the slit that led to your empty womanhood. After a moment, he succeeded, his thick unyielding cock forcing you to surrender as he easily slipped in between your folds. He started slow, with shallow pumps, testing your limit before he increased the force, jackhammering you with hard, vehement thrusts.

Your lovemaking had been a zealous and passionate affair that had left the two of you breathless in rapture besides each other after the tingling aftershocks of your orgasms had subsided. You played absentminded with the cuff of the left arm of Jimin’s long sleeved shirt as he rested beside you with his other arm thrown over his eyes. Unlike him, you were not exhausted after the sex. If anything, you felt even more energized. Your mind was running a mile a minute as thoughts flitted across your head with incredible swiftness. For one, you kept coming across a number of questions that you wanted to ask Jimin now that you two had irrevocably changed the nature of your relationship. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grew stuck on what Jimin’s middle name was. Your eyes flitted across his form, getting caught on the bit of his forearm that had become exposed after you had been fiddling with his shirt’s cuffs. The pale skin was marred by a dark inky tattoo that you could not fully see since the majority of it was still covered by his sleeve.

Growing curious, with a sinking feeling of premonition that you did not understand fully, you reached once more for his left arm. You paused with your hand wrapped around his wrist before you decided to bite the bullet and shove up the arm of his shirt all the way up to his elbow. The tattoo that was revealed had you gasping in horror and backing away from Jimin in a rush. Jimin’s eyes snapped open at the sound and he stared at you in confusion when he saw you backing up against a wall with your shirt clutched to your chest as you attempted to find the rest of your clothes and wand so that you could get out of there.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked getting up and trying to approach you. Your eyes inadvertently flickered to his left forearm, where his sleeve was still pushed back, as you moved away even more, your eyes sweeping across the room desperately seeking your wand.

“What are you looking at?” Jimin asked, his gaze following yours until he caught sight of his revealed Dark Mark. “Y/N,” he whispered, pleadingly.

“No!” You shouted, when he once again tried to get closer to you. “Stay away from me, you Death Eater! I can’t believe I trusted you,” you cried hysterically, as you finally found your shorts and quickly stuck your legs through them, slipping them on over you, sans underwear.

“Y/N, I can explain,” Jimin begged, holding up his palms in surrender.

“No, you fucking cannot!” You grated, slipping your hand into your shorts’ pocket, finding your wand in the back right pocket. Before Jimin could blink, you let out a roaring scream, belting out “Stupefy!” to stop and Stun him in his tracks. As Jimin quickly went down with a thud, you could not find it within you to be remorseful.

You hurriedly slipped your T-shirt over your head as you ran down the hallway and down the stairs to jam your feet into your shoes. You opened the front door with a resounding bang and thought that Jimin should have just been thankful that you did not have an evil or vindictive bone in your body. It was a good thing that you were not a pyromaniac like Choi Soobin, because in all honesty you had been two seconds away from setting the entire house on fire with the FiendFyre spell, the Lees had taught, with him still in it.

You ran down the street until you made it back to the alley that Jimin had landed his Firebolt in earlier and quickly uttered the Apparition spell once you were fully enmeshed in the shadows of the buildings making up the alley. This time you would be running away to somewhere that no one could find you, not the Snatchers, nor the Death Eaters, and especially not one Park Jimin, whom you now considered to be dead to you.

…

It took Jimin four hours to wake up from the powerful Stunning spell you had hit him with. He had found himself lying on his back on the hardwood floors of the master bedroom to 0613 Amaranthine Street with a pounding headache and a large bump on the back of his head. Although he was disoriented, the memories from before slowly came back to him and his heart sunk with devastation when he recalled your reaction to the Dark Mark that was marring the length of his left forearm.

He stayed on the floor, with his knees up and tucked under his chin, resentfully suffering through his splitting headache until Chimmy came to him long after night had fallen with a bowl of kimchi fried rice and eggs for dinner. Sullenly, he asked Chimmy to Apparate them back home, not in the mood to fly the massive distance when he still felt so queasy. Once at home, he bitterly walked past the room that housed Nagini behind its door, and rushed towards his own bedroom, in no mood to make conversation. For a second, he was tempted to take his wand to his arm and use it to cut through the mark and destroy it, but something told him that the Dark Mark was more than just a tattoo, that the Dark Lord had somehow bound all his servants to himself, and that his control over them would linger even after the Dark Mark was cleaved. The only thing that brightened Jimin’s mood was the folded letter waiting on the top of his bedsheets. Written in the Headmaster’s spidery script was a missive that told Jimin to bring the giant serpent, that was currently slithering around the Park Mansion, to Spinner’s End tomorrow at noon.

As Jimin got ready for bed later that night, his chest ached with a resigned sense of emptiness. Although he had not exactly come to terms with losing you, he did get the feeling that the end was near. There were no seers or oracles in Jimin’s family; the gift of foresight was not one that was passed down in Jimin’s family, yet he could feel with clarity and conviction that the culmination of the war was coming rapidly. He knew that Kim Namjoon would not be content to remain in hiding for much longer, and that when he was ready (and Jimin sensed that that might be soon if the events that had taken place at the Min Manor were anything to go by), he would come for the Dark— no for Voldemort, and end the wretched limbo that the entire country was stuck in, waiting for the two to finally kill each other.

After breakfast the next day, Jimin found himself Apparating to the address that Yoongi’s mother had written down. As Jimin found himself walking through the riverside town, that was slightly modernized from the time that the city had attempted to gentrify it and then left abandoned, when no one new moved in, and was now broken down and depilated, he found himself wracking his head around the oddities of Apparation. Nagini floated besides him covered by a Disillusionment Charm cutting through the air easily while Jimin had to watch his step on the loosened and upturned pieces of gravel and stone on the cobblestoned street. It had been plaguing his mind all night as he drifted in and out of a fitful sleep, it was strange that wizards could Apparate to locations they had never been in as long as they could imagine the destination with excessively detailed clarity, and Jimin was wondering if the laws of Apparation would still hold true if he attempted to Apparate with a person in mind as his ultimate destination and not a physical location. His musings eventually brought him to the row of houses where the Headmaster lived. The bricks were old and worn down, the iron fences rusty and bent, the board of governors that set the salary for Hogwarts’ instructors were obviously not paying Snape a livable wage.

As Jimin walked up the steps that led him to the front doors of the Headmaster’s home, the disgusting stench from the filthy river went under his nose as a gust of wind carried the smell with it. At his knock, the door opened up a crack, so that Jimin could see a sliver of Professor Snape’s face and soulless black eyes looking back at him. Hidden behind the door, Jimin knew the man was armed with his wand in his hand. With furrowed brows, Snape threw open his front door wide enough so that Jimin and Nagini could pass through.

Expecting this to be a simple drop off, Jimin did not step too deep into the house, lingering at the entry way. As Nagini freely floated through the air in her bulbous entrapment moving deeper into the home, now visible as the professor had removed Jimin’s Disillusionment Charm with a simple sweep of his wand, Snape turned back to Jimin.

“Thank you for the delivery, Park, but your job is now complete,” he murmured. “You should focus on your studies. The NEWTs are coming up. Stop running after the Death Eaters’ coattails, hungry for approval and admiration. Leave the tough jobs for the adults, boy. Enjoy your youth while you can.”

Jimin glared at him, “Focus on my studies? I don’t think good grades will serve us well now Professor, not while the Ministry is under his control. He already had me keeping watch over Yang Hyunsuk. I think my future has already been decided and is far from under my control.”

Snape’s eyes sought Jimin’s, hard inky black ones seeking his warm chocolate brown eyes. Jimin could feel the Headmaster prodding through his mind, invading it. He tried to put up a wall to keep Snape from learning too much, but he was still weak from being Stunned the previous day. Snape’s presence in his mind felt overpowering and unwelcoming but the Headmaster did not linger in it for long, only sharing a thought that could be heard with a booming resonance within the walls of Jimin’s consciousness. You are a fool if you think that the Dark Lord will win, Park. Stop now before you ruin your future irreversibly. He left Jimin’s mind as quickly as he had entered, cutting their shared gaze and walking deeper into his home, following in the path Nagini’s aimless drifting. “Do you wish to stay for lunch?” his voice rang out to Jimin as he walked into another room.

“No thanks, I’m good,” Jimin grunted, still clutching his abused head. Suddenly, why Voldemort had chosen to watch over Snape with Nagini made sense to Jimin. There were larger things that were afoot than Jimin had the privilege of being privy to. It was better, like Snape had said, for him to back off while he still could. He would just ask his parents to plead his case so that he was no longer deeply enmeshed with the goings, comings, and doings of the Death Eaters. “I’ll just be going now,” he called out, exiting the home speedily.

Perhaps he could move to South Korea and find work in the Department of Mysteries in their Ministry of Magic. If he became an Unspeakable, he would never be allowed to leave the country as well and he would be guarded at all times both by the spells that bound Unspeakables from ever revealing confidential information and by the country’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement from ever leaving the country. Although Jimin would never be getting his happy ending with you, he would be damned if he was going to let Voldemort or the Death Eaters rule his life anymore. He would study the Asian magical archives until he found the way to get rid of Voldemort for good, if Namjoon failed to be up to the task.

…

For all its glitz and glamour, America was boring. You came to that realization by your second week in Brownville, Nebraska, a small town that was home to about 500 muggles. Your mother and you had settled in the same large farmhouse that your father had rented out for his new wife and your half-siblings. But even the tension between the two great loves of your father’s life, past and present, did not provide enough diversion from the boring mundaneness that encompassed life at Brownville.

There had been several rules that your parents had both implemented once you had joined them. Amongst them were absolutely no speaking of magic or life in England, no performing of magic, and no use of magical objects. Your pet owl had been moved to live in the barn that took up the back of the property your father had rented, and you were only allowed to visit her with treats in the dark of the night. As it was, you thought your pet was already diverting back to her more undomesticated side as she was preferring the small rodents, she could hunt on the property, to the owl treats you placed out for her.

You were grateful that the adults had given you the large open structure of the attic to be your room, where you would often stay up for most of the day, only coming down for meals, avoiding everyone else in the house. Your half-siblings, who were much younger than you were confused and resentful of the move to Nebraska and blamed you for it although they did not know the details as to why. Your father had never felt the need to tell his Muggle family that once upon a time he had fallen in love with a witch and, with her, had had a daughter who was also a witch. After all, being a Muggle himself, the chances of one of his newer children being able to perform magic were minimal to zero.

As April came to an end and May began, you had resigned yourself to fully living a life as a Muggle and had even considered the benefits of such a lifestyle. For one, the Muggles had increasingly advanced as a society and had come up with inventions that were, in your opinion, just as magical as the things that witches, and wizards could come up with. In fact, you were highly impressed by televisions and telephones. One evening, in between looking through catalogs for different tutoring services you could pay for to acquire a GED, you were trying to set up the black box television set your parents had surprised you with in your attic bedroom. You were struggling with the antenna when you felt a burning sensation the size of a Galleon against your chest. The DA coin you had attached to a chain, to dangle from your neck, was warm to the touch, lightly heating your skin with its summons. Jeon Jungkook, the de facto leader of the group since Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Seokjin, the three members of the Golden Trio, had gone on the run, was using it to summon members of Dumbledore’s Army to fight.

Immediately jumping up, you grabbed your wand where it was hidden, tucked inside one of your many pillowcases. Before you could get too excited, you noticed that you were still in your pajamas with a robe hanging off your frame haphazardly and mismatched socks covering your feet. As you hurriedly threw off your clothes to pull a pair of jeans over your legs and a sweater over your pajama shirt, you searched the top of your messy desk to find a scrap of paper you could write on, to let your mother where you had gone. Knowing that there was a chance that your note would fall into the hands of your half-siblings, you were careful to be vague. You wrote quickly with your pen running across the page, blotching the sheet with spots of ink. You wrote: Mother, I had to do it. I had to leave to show the strength and perseverance of Godric’s friends. I’ve gone to meet Hogwarts to do what has to be done. It is my time now to do what you had done 20 years ago. I love you Mother, never forget that.

Blinking back tears, you prepared yourself to Apparate straight into the Hog’s Head pub, as you tried to resign yourself to the idea that there was a chance that you would not be coming out on the other side, alive. But you had lived the entire year as a shade. In all honestly you were a little embarrassed of yourself. Proud, brave Gryffindors did not act like this. It was time for you to stand up for what was right. It was time for you to defend all the Muggleborns and everyone who had been persecuted and treated like vermin as He-Who-Must, no, Voldemort forced his will upon everyone throughout all of Britain.

If you died, you hoped that your mother would be able to sleep at night knowing that she had raised a strong and fearless daughter who defended and protected those who could not fight for themselves. As you hurried through your room, looking for what else you might have needed, your eyes got caught on your Gryffindor House badge tittering on the edge of the nightstand. Grabbing it swiftly, you stabbed it through the fabric of your sweater before raising your wand in front of you and Apparating to Hogsmeade Village.

Once you found yourself in the bar, you were immediately pushed to the side as the large group of people that had congregated tried to squeeze everyone in the small space. As your gaze flickered over the wizards and witches who had all come together to help Namjoon fight Voldemort, you thought you even saw members of the Order of the Phoenix and students who had already graduated in the mix. As you stood there awkwardly and alone, watching Kim Kibum get tackled by Lee Taemin as the two of them started to talk over each other, you thought you heard Kibum yell when Taemin announced that he did not have a wand. Further away, you saw Bang Sihyuk quietly talking with Kang Hyowon and Kwon Dohyeong, who had gone by PDogg and Slow Rabbit on the Goldenwatch broadcasts, about how to get the younger students safely away before the main fighting began. Adora was talking to Shin Donghyuk about how to defend the castle and block off the exits and entrances to the school, waving her wand around to cast a three-dimensional diagram that floated above their heads and changed to depict her plans.

You were so overwhelmed, taking in everything that was happening all around you at once, that you did not notice your best friends Nayeon and Jeongyeon until they both barreled into you, hugging you tightly. The tears threatened to overtake your features once more, but you held it in, knowing that you had to stay strong so that you could fight with a clear head. “I’ve missed you two so much,” you mumbled into their hair.

“We’ve missed you too,” Jeongyeon said, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly in hers.

“But it’s okay,” Nayeon declared, “We’re together now. And we’ll fight together too.”

You nodded energetically at that moving towards Mr. Bang who was gesturing you all over to get into orderly groups to go upstairs and exit into the castle, one group at a time. Once you were rushed up the stairs to a room, the likes of which you had never seen before at Hogwarts, since it had been designed by the Room of Requirement, you all were furtively pushed out into the corridors to make your ways down to the Great Hall where everyone was gathering so that Hog’s Head would have enough room for all the wizards and witches that were traveling to Hogwarts to fight.

The Great Hall was looking more haphazard and disorganized than it had looked the night that Azkaban’s prisoner had escaped onto the school’s grounds and the Dementors had been dispatched. All the tables were filled, there were First, Second, and Third Years who had been pulled out of bed in their pajamas sitting only feet away from battle ready, hardened witches and wizards who were all still holding up their wands up in a fighting move. Even the castles ghosts had all congregated at the Hall, looking at Professor Taeyeon who was speaking at the front of the room, on a raised platform where the Professors’ table usually was. Behind her, the other Professors could be seen, Kim Heechul, Eric Nam, Lee Sumni, and Tiffany Young, with the members of the Order standing behind them.

Professor Taeyeon was explaining that the evacuation of the students would be taking place immediately, “If you are of age, you are allowed to stay behind and remain to fight if you desire,” she continued as Nayeon pulled you down to sit next to her at the Gryffindor table.

As you stared at the Deputy Headmistress who was speaking about how the Headmaster had taken a permanent leave of absence, her voice was drowned out by a terrible inhumane voice that rang out through the space, chilling and clear: “I know that you all are preparing to fight. But you must know, your efforts are in vain. It is futile to go against me. You cannot fight me and expect to win. I do not wish to kill you. I respect the institute of Hogwarts greatly, the instructors and what they teach and represent. I do not want to spill any magical blood. I have a great love for our kind.”

Screams had erupted across the Great Hall, as panic-stricken students clung to each other in fear, their fearful gazes darting across the room trying to make sense of where the voice was coming from. Voldemort continued, “Give me Kim Namjoon and no one will get hurt. Give me Kim Namjoon and the school will be left standing and whole. Give me Kim Namjoon and I will reward you for your labor. You have until midnight to give him up, after that I will offer no mercy to a single soul.”

Silence overtook the entire Hall, broken minutes later when Jennie Kim stood up on the Slytherin table and shouted, “He’s right there,” pointing to the entrance to the Great Hall where Namjoon stood next to Yeri. “Get him! Someone quick! Before we all have to die for his actions!”

All at once, there was a rush of sound as people began to push up against the House tables. You stood up with the Gryffindors, reaching for your wand as you all stood to face Jennie face on to defend Namjoon from her. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had stood up with you all, also reaching for their wands, targeting the table that was at the far left of the room who all had students that were stiffly sitting down. You tried to see if Jimin was with his mulish Housemates, but you could not see him anywhere. Now that he had gone back to his natural black hair, it was no longer easy to spot the Head Boy in a crowd.

With an acerbic, tight bite to her words, Professor Taeyeon grated, “Miss Kim cease your foolishness. You will be the first to leave the Hall, if the rest of your House could follow. Ravenclaws, once the Slytherins leave, follow them.”

The tables were slowly vacated, with only the adults who wished to fight remaining behind. To the absolute surprise of no one, the Slytherin table was completely deserted. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables however had about half of their Seventh Years still staying seated. However, when it came to the Gryffindor table, everyone was reluctant to leave their place, with even the First and Second Years putting on a brave face as they nervously clutched at their almost brand-new wands. Professor Taeyeon had to abandon her post at the platform to come and deal with her house, shouting, “Huening Kai, Kang Taehyun! Get going! You two absolutely cannot stay!” when the two were reluctant to part with the Chasers of the Gryffindor quidditch team: the Choi’s, Soobin, Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

As Professor Taeyeon took care of the Gryffindors who were leaving, arranging evacuation protocols with the Prefects, Mr. Bang took the stage to order you all to take up post all over the castle. You listened to him with your mind drifting wondering about Jimin. Would he be allowed to leave with the students or would Voldemort force him to return to the castle to fight after midnight when the school inevitably did not give up Namjoon.

…

As you were getting ready to fight, Jimin was getting ready too. He had slipped away in all the ruckus, casting a Disillusionment Charm over his form. He had to find the Headmaster. He did not believe what Professor Taeyeon had said. He needed to find the Professor to know if there was a way for him to get rid of his Dark Mark. He had no idea the magnitude of its power but he knew that if he wanted to make a break from the Death Eaters, it would have to be a clean one. He could not risk being in the fray, getting attacked by both the Light side and Voldemort’s followers who would both be seeing him as the enemy.

He stalked through the halls, walking through the halls determinedly, seeking the Headmaster’s studies where he knew that Professor Snape would be, licking his wounds after his brawl against Professor Taeyeon. Soon, he was in front of the gargoyles that would split to reveal the way to the Headmaster’s rooms. But what would the password be? Surely Snape had changed it after Taeyeon had attacked him to keep her from accessing it. Wracking his brain, Jimin’s memories paused on the portraits of Headmasters, past, cheering him on as he struggled to fight against Snapes attacks on his mind, striving to improve his Occlumency. His focus kept lingering on the portrait of the Albus Dumbledore with the sparkly vivid blue backdrop. “Dumbledore!” Jimin shouted, hardly pausing to feel the full extent of his astonishment before rushing up the stairs, into the circular chamber, where Professor Snape was slumped over his chair like a comic book villain, rubbing the pads of his fingers into his temple.

“Professor!” Jimin blurted, “You have to help me. Please. You’re the only one who can.”

Snape’s gaze flickered to Jimin distractedly, his eyes were glazed and unfocused, “I am a little busy Park. You could not have come at a more inopportune time,” he grated, standing up and clutching at his left arm, which must have been burning as hotly as Jimin’s if not more so.

“Is there a way to get rid of the Mark? Please Professor,” Jimin begged.

For a second, there was the cunning clarity, that Jimin knew Snape to have, taking over his person as his beady dark eyes focused on Jimin. “Come here Park and roll your sleeve up.”

Jimin rushed forward, swiftly shoving up the left sleeve of his school robes to expose the Dark Mark that stood out against Jimin’s pale skin with its black ink to Snape. Wrapping his clammy pale hand around Jimin’s wrist, he pulled Jimin’s arm forward, and with a whispered, “Sectumsempra,” cut a controlled gash over Jimin’s arm, going over the path he was tracing with his wand. The pain was blinding. It lacerated through Jimin’s flesh, cutting right to the bone, creating hemorrhages and causing Jimin’s vision to go white at the blood loss. As it cut through the ink of the Dark Mark, however, with the pain Jimin felt a sense of release as though his link to Voldemort was finally being broken. As quickly as he inflicted the curse on Jimin, Snape muttered a songlike chant, incanting the counter-curse. His wand was tracing the same path it had made earlier, only this time it was in reverse. The blood flow seemed to stutter and stop and then Snape was repeating the counter curse a second time and a third to stitch the flesh back up.

A disgusting mottled patch of flesh took up the entire length of Jimin’s arm, it looked like someone had dipped a sword into acid and ran deep horizontal lines through his skin, with the healed lines standing up in ridges against his arm, but the mark was entirely gone. The pain however lingered. If he was to fight in the war after this, he would have to be careful not to reveal that he was already nursing a wound.

“I can give you Dittany to ease the pain, however it is unlikely that the scar will fade. I had to use a dark spell on a mark that was already created by dark magic. We are just lucky it worked,” muttered Snape, getting up to go to the potions cabinet at the opposite side of the room where he kept his stash of powerful and intricate potions.

As Jimin stood still staring at the long white scars that had the heterogenic patterns of chemical burns, waiting for the Dittany to kick in, Snape rushed to the window on the far side of the chamber. Instantly he flung the two panels of glass open and stood at the sill, peering down eight floors to where the green of the Hogwarts’ lawn was still visible in the dark of the night. Without so much as a pause, he instantly stepped off of it, causing Jimin to yelp, thinking that he had just watched his Headmaster plunge to his death after a suicidal jump. Rushing to the window, Jimin could see in the distance a huge bat-like figure flying through the air, rushing towards the darkness that laid beyond the outer perimeter walls of the school grounds.

However, Jimin could not stay here forever. He had to get out to where the fighting was taking place. He had a job as the Head Boy of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to serve them to the best of his abilities. And that meant, that whether the Lees or Voldemort had intended when they had given him the title, that Jimin had the duties of being a good leader for the students, along with protecting the castle and its inhabitants, and doing anything else that was asked of him. As he made his way back into the fray, he saw Death Eaters fighting with students half their ages, some of their hoods and masks having come off in the heat of the moment.

The corridors were filled with a rainbow of brightly colored bolts as each side hurled defensive spells at each other. The Death Eaters fought with no compunction, having the Unforgivable Curses spill from their lips, with each wave of their wand. Jimin went through the crowd, running swiftly, sending targeted Stunning spells through them, aiming at what could have even been his own parents under those disguises. But suddenly, the air exploded with a deafening blast. The corridor cleaved itself, the walls shattered into a million fragmented pieces and the roof began to cave in. Jimin coughed at the sudden explosion of kicked up dust and plaster. He did his best to get out of the rubble, pitching his arm under the shoulder of a struggling student with a cut on his forehead and a tear in his black school robes. The boy’s red tie looped around his neck, tightening like a noose.

Once they had made it to the edge of the corridor that had not been impacted by the explosive spell, he was finally able to look at the person whose life he had saved. Kim Taehyung stared back at Jimin in confusion, wiping the back of his left hand across his mouth to wipe away some of the blood from a cut lip. As his brows furrowed and his mouth opened with the beginnings of a question painting his lips, a terrible scream from a female could be heard as a gigantic spider, the size of a Volkswagen beetle crawling in through the monstrous new hole in the wall that made the outside of the castle visible.

Sprinting away from each other, the two shot spells over their shoulders at the spider. None of the spells seemed to have an effect, as the spider crawled its way in, however when it was struck by both of their spells at the same time, it flipped in its back, struggling to make itself upright again. Jimin dared to look back into the direction of the hole. He yelled, “It brought its family,” as he sprinted away.

Soon, both students, members of the Order, and Death Eaters were all running, all attacking the spiders with jets of red and green lit spells, as they ran to save themselves. As Jimin reached the end of the hall where the staircases were, he took flight, leaping over the railing of the walkway to the moving stairs that were shifting ten feet below it. As his heart jumped to his throat, as he made himself a vulnerable target flying through the air for both Death Eaters and Hogwartians, he wondered if you were here too, or if you were long gone, hidden wherever it had been that you had fled to, making a new life for yourself away from war and political uprisings. He thought maybe it would be safer for him to fight out in the open on the Hogwarts’ grounds where there were not as much landmarks that could be weaponized to explode or collapse, crushing and hurting everyone in its path with its debris.

As Jimin made his way towards the ground level of the castle, running and leaping from staircase to staircase, He crossed paths with several Death Eaters who would give him a nod of acknowledgment before turning their backs and targeting Jimin’s classmates. Was it unchivalrous of Jimin to attack them when they had their backs turned? Perhaps. But Rome was not built in a day and Jimin could not unteach everything he had been taught. After all, he was not a self-righteous Gryffindor, he was a cunning Slytherin who took the chance when he saw it.

Jimin had finally neared the bottom floor, he took the stairs four at a time as he hurried to get out of such a vulnerable position. The staircase that connected all of the stories of the castles were death traps for not only the people using them, but the ones underneath or nearby them. After direct hits from powerful spells, they were liable to collapse into giant pieces of stone and marble that could crush the crowd below it or plunge the ones on it to a painful death. His mind’s musings came true a moment later when someone screeched “Glisseo!” causing the stairs under his feet to flatten to a smooth ramp, making Jimin who had been rushing down the steps to hurtle down it so quickly, unable to control the momentum his body had gained, that shots of red and green light went over his head, narrowly missing his body by a hairsbreadth.

As Jimin lay at the foot of the staircase, resting his weight on his hands as he struggled to get the feeling back in his legs, the shattering sound of glass being blasted erupted to his left. With a quick glance, Jimin was able to see that the Slytherin hourglass that kept track of their house points had exploded with only part of its bottom half remaining. The tennis ball size emeralds were spilled, the gems rolling around haphazardly, causing everyone to trip and slip over them. Jimin could not help but think of the previous June when the previous Headmaster had died, and the Gryffindor hourglass had gotten shattered in the carnage that the invading Death Eaters had left behind. The magic of Hogwarts worked in mysterious ways, often revealing omens that had grim outcasts. Had Headmaster Snape fallen and died?

With his heart pounding so furiously that he could not hear anything but the rush of blood moving behind his ears, Jimin ran towards the front doors of the castle. Everywhere he looked, there was chaos and destruction. There were enormous spiders climbing the walls freely, their pincers snapping erratically as they looked for victims to envenom and eat. The giants that Voldemort had created alliances with had come now, to play. They were attacking the castle with their monstrous clubs, sending the stone bricks that shaped the castle flying.

As soon as Jimin stepped onto the grounds, an unearthly chill entered his body. The air was frozen around him. His heartbeats slowed and quietened until he could no longer hear them, feeling leaden and immobile. Dementors. Those malevolent wraiths glided through the open sky of the castle, their multitude covering the brightness of the full moon that shown over all of the grounds. Already, the dark morose thoughts began to permeate Jimin’s minds. He was never going to be able to gain penance for his sins. He would never be able to make up for what he had done, and for what he had not done as he stood by and let terrible things happen. Headmaster Snape was most likely dead. There was no way that Kim Namjoon could beat Voldemort. It was futile, it was all futile and perhaps Nagini was the key. But as long as she remained in her enchanted protective cage, there would be no saving for the rest of them. They were all damned and doomed to die in this pointless futile fight. Voldemort would soon discover that Jimin had forsook him and would torture him until he could break into Jimin’s mind with ease and destroy everything that Jimin loved or cared about. And what about you, Y/N, Jimin would never be able to ask for your forgiveness or be given the opportunity to make up for his mistakes. His breath came out in smoky white vaporous streams, he tried to raise his right arm to create his Patronus, but it would not move.

He had resigned himself for the Kiss from the Dementor that was closest to him, and seemed to be targeting him specifically, when a massive silver tiger, soared over his head, joined by its mercurial companions, a silver squirrel and hare. The Dementors scattered, backing away from Jimin, but they still caged him in.

“Come on Park!” came the shout of Jung Hoseok from his right. “I know you can do this. You are easily the most brilliant wizard in our Year, excluding Namjoon.”

“Just think of a happy thought,” murmured Jeon Jungkook, coming over to Jimin’s left. “Come on, I know you’re not as bad as everyone paints you out to be. I saw you targeting those Death Eaters back there. You can do it Jimin. We will fight and we will win.”

A happy thought? A memory, uninvited, came rushing forward.

“Are you able to cast a corporeal Patronus?”

“I did. Once,” you answered.

Jimin looked momentarily stunned before he was able to collect himself, “In theory, if you have a memory that is so inexplicably happy and bound to your mind that you would never forget it, you could even scare off an army of Dementors with your Patronus.”

The memory of you had a bitter sting to it. Jimin knew that he would never have his happy ending with you; he was undeserving of it. And yet, it was you and the memory of that one magical day in Paris that had the silver stream of magic shooting out of the end of Jimin’s wand, casting a fully corporeal swan to join the others. As the four Patronuses glided through the air, protecting their owners. The dementors finally dispersed, fracturing away from each other.

Jimin turned back to his classmates, people he had barely spoken to over the past seven years. “Thank you for saving my life,” he muttered gruffly.

“Yeah well,” said Kim Taehyung casting an unimpressed glance at Jimin, “An eye for an eye and all that. But I’m not convinced, Park. So, don’t expect me to save your life again.”

…

The fighting had continued for hours. Voldemort’s voice had come once again, bodiless and macabre, thundering across the space. An unwelcome and unnerving sound that licked the ears of everyone, making them shudder, as it spread the news that he would be giving them an hour to dispose of their dead and to heal their injured before he would be entering the fray and fighting himself, killing everyone in his path until he got Kim Namjoon.

You had been patching up Kim Seokjin’s arm with bandages. There was only so much your healing spell could do and the school Healer, Madame Shin Suran, was being stretched thin, having already enlisted a group of students to help her take care of the wounded. The healing and rejuvenating potions had long run low, even after Professor Heechul had added to the infirmary’s supply. That had been when it had happened.  

The Death Eaters were lining the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Accompanying them at their backs were the Dementors and giants. They walked with Voldemort in the middle, it was the first time that you had ever seen the terrible evil that he was. The sight that met your eyes was far worse than you could have ever dreamt of him to look like. He made a tall figure in his voluminous dark robes that revealed a rail thin figure as he cut through the lawn, sweeping forward. He could have been seven feet tall and was entirely deserving of his boogeyman status with his bone pale skin and demon red eyes, the glint of which you could still make out 20 yards away. As he neared, you were able to see that he was completely hairless, with not a strand on his scalp or even his brows. The hairlessness and slits of his nostrils made him look terribly similar to a frightening serpent.

When Voldemort had crossed to be what he deemed was sufficient amount away, he stepped to the side, revealing the school’s groundskeeper Hagrid to be holding a bundled figure in his arms. Your heart stopped as your eyes cut on the tear tracks that had been left on Hagrid’s cheeks. You had the terrible feeling that it was Namjoon in his arms.

“NO!” bellowed Taeyeon letting out an unearthly cry of anguish, “NAMJOON.”

“Namjoon!” you heard the shouts of Mr. Bang and Mr. Kang, who you knew were like fathers to Namjoon join in. Hoseok was being restrained by Seokjin and Taehyung, yelling desperately for the male he considered to be as good as a blood brother to him. You could even feel tears streaming down your own face. With Namjoon dead, all hope seemed to be lost.

“SILENCE!” bellowed Voldemort. “The Boy Who Lived is finally dead. And at my hands. Hagrid, why don’t you put the boy where he belongs, at my feet.”

Hagrid placed Namjoon’s crumpled form on the ground. He looked so broken and small that bile was rising up in your throat. You had to swallow it down as you bitterly sniffed at the injustice.

“Do you see this?” Voldemort asked, circling Namjoon’s body, prodding it with the toe of his shoe and a maniacal smile painting his face. “Do you finally understand, you deluded fools? He was never anything more than a boy who counted on others to sacrifice themselves for him! But he, himself, never had any skills or strength. No, that is why I was so easily able to kill him with a simple snap of my wand.”

“You’re lying! He beat you!” Seokjin yelled, grabbing his bandaged shoulder with a wince as he talked back to perhaps one of the most vile and deadly wizards in existence. However, Seokjin’s retort was able to do the job. The Silencing Charm Voldemort had casted over the castle’s inhabitants broke and they were able to shout and protest once more.

Voldemort once again hit them with a Silencing Charm, this one more powerful than the last. His voice got even louder, “Kim Namjoon was killed while he tried to escape the grounds like the coward that he is, leaving the rest of you to die for him. He was killed while his self-preserving ass tried to flee for safety…”

Voldemort’s voice trailed off as a figure burst out from the line of Hogwartians, charging towards him. It was poor Jeon Jungkook who had idolized Kim Namjoon and seen him as his best friend. None of the other Gryffindors had thought to restrain him as well. With a laugh and a sweep of his wand, Voldemort easily disarmed Jungkook. “Ah, young Jeon Jungkook. How poorly misguided you are. Why do you defend that dirty Half-Blood whose blood is tinged with the filth that comes from his Mudblood mother? You are a Pureblood yourself, young man. We could do with your kind, Jeon. Brave, spirited purebloods.”

“I would never join the Death Eaters,” Jungkook bit out caustically, “Dumbledore’s Army forever!” His call was meet by shouts from the crowd, including yours, who Voldemort seemed unable to control with his Silencing Charms.

Angered, Voldemort turned to Jungkook, “If that is how you want to play things, young man. We will do it your way.” With a powerful wave of his wand, Voldemort incanted a nonverbal summoning spell. A deformed brown bundle swept through the air, falling onto his outstretched arm. It was the Sorting Hat, “There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts. You all will be united under one House: the noblest one of them all, the House of my ancestor Salazar Slytherin.”

He then pointed his wand at Jungkook, instantly immobilizing him in a rigid, upright position, “Jungkook here will show you all what happens when you attempt to go against Lord Voldemort.” The hat was shoved onto Jungkook’s head forcibly with another snap of his wand, and then with a third flick, Voldemort had caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames while still atop Jungkook’s head.

Just then, there was a disruption from the Forbidden Forest when two giants seemed to be attacking each other. All at once, commotion reigned and pandemonium struck. The giants laid into each other, hitting each other with powerful punches and kicks that shook the ground with so much force it felt like unnatural earthquakes were occurring. The castle’s protectors were no longer held by the power of Voldemort’s spells and both sides rushed towards each other. Voldemort had lost his grip on the situation and now everyone was attacking each other.

From the sidelines, Jimin had been watching impartially, but when Voldemort’s focus was no longer on Jungkook, he rushed forward. It felt like he was the only who saw Jungkook break free from the Body-Bind Curse that had been placed on him. The enflamed Sorting Hat fell off his head as he shifted, falling with its pointed tip facing downwards, and Jimin was able to watch as Jungkook thrusted his arm into the hat pulling from within its depths the glinting ruby encrusted handle of the Sword of Gryffindor. Jimin rushed forward towards Jungkook, staring at him with panic-stricken widened eyes. Jeon, look at me dammit, he thought as he ran forward. There was still ten yards between them when Jungkook’s eyes met Jimin’s and Jimin hit him with the powerful burst of his own thoughts, Behind you. The snake. Use the sword.

Jungkook swung the sword around purposefully, he caught sight of the snake that was now slithering around freely since Voldemort had thought that Namjoon was dead. With a single powerful stroke, Jungkook brought the sword down, beheading Nagini with one fell swoop. Voldemort let out a shrill unhuman cry at his pet’s death. Charging forward towards Jungkook and Jimin purposefully.

All at once, the two of them were fighting the evilest and most powerful wizard that was alive, struggling to hold their own even in a two on one match. When a killing spell narrowly missed Jungkook, singeing the top of his already static and burnt hair from earlier, a voice bellowed behind them.

“Stop, Voldemort!” shouted Namjoon, who apparently was not dead after all. Jimin did not take the opportunity to check where the voice had come from since Voldemort had not ebbed his assault on the two boys. “It’s me that you want so why don’t you come and finish the job!”

…

At the end of the duel between Kim Namjoon and Lord Voldemort, only one of them remained standing. Fortunately for everyone, that had been Kim Namjoon. As the people of Hogwarts dealt with the aftermath of the battle, rushing to put the remaining Death Eaters who had been alive into custody, Bang Sihuyk had been temporarily instated as the Minister of Magic; apparently Minister Yang had fallen during the battle which Jimin could not feel himself feeling at all torn about.

Jimin’s parents had been amongst the ones who were being rounded up. They had attempted to implicate him along with themselves when Jimin had scoffed and said, “Me, a Death Eater? Hardly, Mother. Why on earth would I have dueled against Voldemort himself then?”

His mother had been shocked into silence while his father had sputtered at his disrespectful tone and how Jimin had had the audacity to call Voldemort by his name. But now, Jimin was wondering throughout the castle looking for someone. He needed to see you, to make sure that you were alright. His new friend Jungkook had assured him that you had returned to Hogwarts to participate in the battle. And according to Jungkook and his friends, the last they had seen of you you had been alive. However, they had all seen you before the second bout of fighting had started. However, Jimin had made his way through all of the fallen bodies, from both sides, that were laid out on the courtyard, both as a type of penance and to make sure that you were not among them. Jimin would remember the faces of all of the dead for the rest of his life, taking care to never be prejudiced or intolerant ever again.

He was finally making his way into the Great Hall, where the separation of the Houses no longer persisted, and everyone was sitting at whatever space was available next to their family members, strangers, or even other magical creatures who did not have a drop of wizarding blood. It was a strange but welcome sight of equality and tolerance. After his rounds about the tables had taken him past Yoongi and his parents who were sitting in a corner all to their own feeling awkward and distant, he finally found you. You were sitting in between two girls and talking to them animatedly.

Clearing his throat nervously, Jimin asked, “Y/N can I talk to you?”

You turned around, your eyebrows almost disappearing into your hairline at your surprise. After debating about it, for what seemed to Jimin had been long interminable moments, you nodded and stood up. The stroll the two of you were on led you eventually to through the castle out towards the Quidditch pitch.

Jimin finally spoke up after the lengthy silent walk. He stopped in his tracks and turned to you, “Y/N, if I could. I would redo everything, from our first meeting. I’m so truly sorry for everything I put you through this entire year. I hope you can feel the depths of my sincerity.”

You stared at him wordlessly. After a moment you parted your lips and said, “I wouldn’t.”

Jimin stared at you in shock.

“Jimin I wouldn’t change a single thing about our history, as painful as some of those moments have been. The moments we shared cannot be undone, the things we said cannot be unsaid. But I understand what you are hinting at. You want us to have a fresh start,” you carefully gauged Jimin’s reaction to your words.

He had been initially panicked when you had started to talk. But now, he bit his lip before saying softly, “Yes please, let us start anew once more, Y/N.”

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you reached out your hand towards him, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Jimin met you halfway, his arm stretching forward, and his fingers wrapping your hand in his grip. “Hello, Y/N,” he murmured, “I’m Jimin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2020 ©FITAELITY 2018-2020

[witchesoz]

After Oz: Legends of Oz

I hesitated before doing this one, because this movie is mostly based on the book "Dorothy of Oz" by Roger S. Baum, and I haven't read said book. It is something that tends to get on my nerve, when people actually don't care about the original material an adaptation was based on, and consider the adaptation as its own entirely original piece of work, when in fact, a lot of it was taken from somebody's else work. I mean, the perfect exemple is Shining. Some people praise Kubrick for being a pure genius for inventing this story from A to Z, and consider Stephen's King television series a "poor attempt at a remake of the movie", when... you know, King originally wrote the Shining and Kubrick merely adapted it. In fact, people tend to forget most of Kubrick's movies were adaptation. Dr. Strangelove? Loosely based on "Red Alert". Lolita? Everyone knows it is Nabokov. A Clockwork Orange? Anthony Burgess. 2001: Space Odyssey? Inspired by shorts stories of Clarke, the co-author. Eyes Wide Shut? A 1920s German book, Traumnovelle. And so forth and so forth...

  Hum. Sorry for the rant. I just needed to explain why I always want to take in consideration the original material when tackling an adaptation.  But since I haven't read and can't get this book, I will mostly rely myself on the Wikipedia plot and other reviews I read. If you wonder, yes, Roger S. Baum is Baum's great-grandson (or great-great-grandson?), and he wrote "Dorothy of Oz" as a direct sequel to the first book, "The Wizard of Oz", ignoring all of the others, and... apparently he is not a really good writer. But anyway... I still decided to do a little something about this movie, because... well just because I wanted    Oh yeah, another thing... an elephant in the room I have to adress right now. I only discovered it this year, by doing research about the movie (because before I only saw it at the time of its released and then forgot about it). You can know it, or completely ignore it - yes, I know that this whole movie was the result of a huge scam that robbed hundreds of people out of their money, and that the case has been even brought to trial. But... well the movie is still here, people still saw it, it is still around, will be for still quite a long time, and it is now part of the Oz inheritance, that you want it or not. Anyway, a lot of Oz movies had a dark and troubled production. It seems almost like a pre-requisite: if you do an Oz movie, you'll never end happy. Maybe it is a curse? Who knows.

       So... let's get into the subject. Is "Dorothy's Return" a bad movie? (I'll use this name, because "Legends of Oz" was the name of the intended franchise of three, maybe ten movies). I wouldn't say so. A lot of people said it was crap, or worthless, but I wouldn't call it bad. People also said that it is a bland movie, and I would say yes - but only partially. I think a good lot of the extreme bad reactions were caused because of 1- people who just disliked the idea of more Oz adaptations, 2- people too old for this movie, because you have to remember that this is a movie aiming at children and 3- people who are hard-die fans of the MGM movie and not so much of the original Oz books. It may also play in account that Dorothy's Return was roughly released the same year, and played as a "rival" to "Oz the Great and Powerful".

    Now, note that it isn't a memorable movie (except for a few bits). It isn't an excellent movie. It isn't a cult classic (even though it may become it with the whole scam background, who knows?). It isn't something I would watch again and again with pleasure. It isn't something exceptionnal or groundbreaking, it is even quite generic. But, it has some good parts, and it manages to be entertaining, and honestly as a child I could have sit in front of it and watch it with no problem. Because, yes, it is a children movie. The action is rushed, the characters lack depth, some moments are too sugary-sweet or even cringy (for exemple the song "We'll work together". Seriously, I just looked away and sped up a bit because that was too sickening-sweet for me.) As a result, as a child movie they missed things that could have been really good (the old tree agreeing to be use for a boat, which is played straight up as him being killed, the characters even say so, but then it turns out he is still alive as a boat? You could have had a great, deep, fascinating almost philosophical moment, but you just waste it for a happy ending). Anyway, what was I saying? Yes, a children movie. As a result, some people called the movie "too simple". On the other side, people called the story "too confusing".

  To an Oz fan like me, it isn't actually confusing. It isn't at all - but indeed, for someone with a limited knowledge of Oz, it will be confusing. Because, while they base themselves on an Oz book that re-uses many elements from the books (the Queen of the Field Mices, the Sawhorse, the China Country...) it also decided to include a lot of elements from the MGM movie (the Wicked Witch of the West is the one from the MGM, Glinda is also quasi-identical from her MGM counterpart, the Winged Monkeys work with the evil people...). As a result, yeah, it may be confusing. But the inclusion of the MGM elements actually managed to correct some flaws of the original story. For exemple, in Roger S Baum's book, the Jester was merely a normal jester possessed by the ghost of the Wicked Witch of the West, through her magic wand. Wait, magic wand? There wasn't any magic wand mentionned in the original book! But in the movie, to use the broomstick of the Wicked Witch makes much more sense.

      I'll take a short time here to comment on the character of the Jester, who is, I think, the highest point of this movie. He is a good villain. A cliché but interesting backstory cashing on the idea of Oz vilains as siblings, a clear shout-out to the Joker which isn't so bad, interesting plans. He is also the provider of many nightmarish elements (the fate of Dorothy's companions, which I think was a very good idea, or the people turning into puppets and being used for a creepy dance) that made this Oz movie feel... well Ozian. Because a good Oz work is a work that will traumatize your kids! I guess a bit part of why the Jester works so well is that he basically repeats and remakes all his sister, the Wicked Witch, did in the MGM movie, and let's be honest, she was a great villain. (And this again makes sense when you remember the Jester is originally supposed to be possessed by the Witch's ghost). But at the same time he has his distinctive signature and style, with his Jester persona, his circus-related punishment and his personal plots to conquer Oz. [People noticed obviously the sweet irony of things in this movie. You have a double-character that, on the Earth world is a cheater and criminal trying to steal people of their houses and using several fake identities, while in Oz it is a villain that turns people into puppets he can manipulate and relies mostly on cheating and misleading Dorothy to her doom. Which is eerily similar to what the creators of the movie/franchise did with their financers and investors.]

  Talking about the Earth side... The whole "earthly" parts are all bland and not memorable. Just like Dorothy, who isn't really... anything to be honest. The songs sung aren't memorable either. All of that is a fail. A lot of people also considered the Earthly animation uncanny, or even disturbing, but I personally wasn't bugged by it at all. I saw much more uncanny animation.

    When it comes to the Oz part, I actually think they managed to create a perfect "Ozian story". As in, the general schema of the girl entering in Oz through an uncommon mean (here a people-eating rainbow, that I have to say was quite a scary scene to look at), then passing through many small kingdoms, meeting new friends, forming a team, discovering the villain and fighting him off - this plot was repeated by Baum times and times and times again, and probably comes from the original novel Dorothy of Oz. But it still works, as simple as it can be. Plus, the use of the China Country and the Candy County (I think its their name?) was quite a good choice. The China Country was one of Baum's earliest invention, while the Candy County (originating from the Roger S Baum book) is eerily similar to the Bunbury village, an invention of Baum, inhabited by living baked goods that also get angry at the protagonists for trying to eating them. Yes, all in all, the characters feel really Ozian. As for the other member of the team, "Wiser the Owl". Well... he had the potential to feel an interesting and Baum-ian character. But it falls flat because he just becomes one living fat joke. I mean, fat jokes can be funny. But when the character is mostly the joke itself well... yeah, not really working. He had a much interesting role in the prequel comic book.  

   Because yes, there is a comic book associated with this movie! As I said before, originally the project was to create a franchise of several movies, with toys, goodies, applications and video games. (Or at least that was the project the scam used). The comic is however found under the original title for the movie "Dorothy of Oz". I don't have much to say about it, outside that is was quite pleasing (even though it sometimes doesn't make sense when put in direct relationship to the movie), and that it introduced one interesting idea: that the magic of the broomstick/Witch relied mostly on manipulating the weather and nature. The Jester causes a flood to destroy the Munchkin town, he causes an earthquake to break the China Country, he uses heatwaves to melt the Candy County... And another interesting point, the role of Wiser. Indeed, in the movie he is presented as a "motor-mouth" that keeps talking about everything, knows a lot of stuff and has the tendency to finish other people's sentences. But it gets quickly overshadowed by the fat jokes (cause a big part of his character is that he used to be able to fly but now, because of his love for candy, he is too fat to fly). However, in the comic book he has rather the role of the one voice of reason and intelligence that offers down-to-earth, simple solutions to problems where the other Ozians search for more extravagant and magical possibilities. Exemple (SPOILERS: when trying to create a rainbow, the team searches everywhere, thinks of asking witches, wizards and candy makers. Wiser has to remind them that anybody can create a rainbow with just a good crystal and some light. SPOILER ENDING.)  

   (I actually read the comic book before looking at the movie, which may explain why I consider it better than the movie.) To return to my opinion on the movie... Not the greatest Oz movie, but certainly not the worst. Average, but on the good side. Entertaining and interesting, even though bland and generic. They got the feeling of an Oz story but they just didn't found a way to freshen up or make the story shine on its own. A good villain for a heroine easy to forget. Simple. Ideal for children, or to kill time, or just to inspire one for more Oz work.

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

The Rumor Around Hogwarts (Ch.1)

Hope you enjoyed the addition to that chapter!! Unfortunately not all of my chapters will be that long. I hope you enjoy what I can crank out. Vote if you can and if there are any problems or concerns let me know

Previous // Next

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You were an ordinary kid.....

Up until a certain point.

You lived in a huge old house that was kind of dark and scary but in a captivating way. Your bedroom was spacious, the dining room could fit at least 20 people (more if magic was involved) and the kitchen was always bustling with either your mother or the house elf, sometimes both, making snacks or meals and somehow the most divine butterbeers.

There were very few rooms you weren't allowed to enter. Your mom's bedroom, the portrait room, and some random room with some initials on it. When you were younger you tried to ask about them but your mom set some very strict rules. The child you was too shocked by the complete change from her usual laid back nature and took her word as law. She was your mother, not a dictator and her job was to raise you, and she did. Not as a secondary house elf, and definitely not as her puppet. It wasn't until you were older and you asked again that you noticed the sad look in her eyes, the same look she got when you asked about your father.

Still your house was like a castle, for a five year old you, 7 year old you and even the 11 year old you waiting for your mother to come home and tell you about the surprise letter you'd received on your birthday. An owl showed up and dropped off a letter about a wizarding school named Hogwarts. You'd known you were a wizard for about 2 years now after an accident in muggle schooling involving mind reading and a serious conversation about legilimency. Of course that's why your mother had been shying away from you the closer it got to your birthday. She didn't want to accidentally spoil the Hogwarts news.

"N/N!!" your mother called from the front step "YOUR BFFL IS HOMEEEE!"

You were honestly glad you weren't in public otherwise you'd have to pretend to not know her or this 'n/n'

"Yeah I know, you said you were coming home at 8:00 so I didn't even get out of bed until 8:15." you replied from the den, trying not to appear too excited. Though it was true. Your mother was notoriously late so you'd always add 30 minutes to the time she said she'd arrive

"Rude! C'mon let's do this explanation quickly you know the basics about you being a wizard and i'm sure the letter explained some things" she hurried

"What's your rush? You avoided me and wouldn't look at me directly for at least a week"

"You noticed huh? Sorry about that, but I really want to go to the zoo, I just have a really good feeling about it!"

"Fine we can go to the zoo but you'll have to explain everything in the car. We're taking the muggle way so you have plenty of time to explain, IN DETAIL"

"Deal"

And that's how you met Harry Potter. Of course you didn't know he was the boy that lived. He was just the kid at the zoo with a wicked scar.

You walked into the reptile house having just had lunch and your mom encouraged you to try your hand at communicating with the reptiles through legilimency. The reptile house was very cool and dark with lights illuminating the room just enough to see. There was a very....large man tapping on the glass as he was being ordered to make the snake move by a rather large boy that was ... your age? Deciding to avoid whatever was going on over there you tried talking to a lizard

That is until you heard a hissing noise coming from the skinny kid with the glasses and wicked scar. You stared at him in awe, partially because he was communicating with a freaking boa constrictor, but also because you, like the responsive snake, had understood exactly what he was saying. Whether it was through legilimency or if you could actually speak the snake language, you didn't know, but a shout shook you out of your trance.

"DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY COME AND LOOK AT THiS SNAKE YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

The fat kid who you assumed was Dudley came and pushed the scar kid out of the way. You'd rushed over to help him up. Unexpectedly the glass that Dudley had been leaning against vanished. The snake slid its body onto the floor, sliding past you and harry and you both could hear a faint "Brazil here I come... thanksss amigosss."

"You can talk to snakes" you uttered

"Yeah, it's my first time"

“Don't worry I'll keep your secret" you winked and right after you'd introduced yourself you noticed your mom flagging your attention. I guess the snake commotion caught her attention and she'd want to go home before anything bad could happen. "Sorry I couldn't get your name. hope to see you soon!!" you called over your shoulder leaving him slightly confused but glad to meet someone at least a little friendly. Unlike the Dursleys.

He too hoped you'd meet soon.

[shoichee]

GoMs + Kagami as Persona Users

Headcanons on the Generation of Miracles (and Kagami) if they were to become a persona user in the world of the Persona series (Kuroko and Momoi included)

@akichan-th​ THIS IS FOR YOU

Warning: KNB series spoilers !!

Kuroko Tetsuya

since his presence is nonexistent in the real world, as a phantom thief, he’d probably desire to be a noticeable hero, you know? even in the 22.5 OVA, he told Kise that passing around wasn’t fun but he was going to do it for the sake of the team

his phantom thief outfit would be flashy in a sense of maybe eye-catching color schemes, or bold patterns

his attire could be baggy/oversized navy blue/black street clothing with TASTEFUL neon-colored accents and his mask would be a neon-colored huge sports shades/goggles situation (i was about to say some trendy sunglasses but sunglasses don’t stay on at all); he’s a skater boy ???? basically??

like, his PT attire could very well be a Persona 5 Dancing in Starlight DLC outfit 👀 it has those vibes

persona element is curse and let me explain why: he doesn’t have the gifted physique like the other GoMs and he’s cursed to rely on others for him to make a difference, and his motif has always been “shadow” ALSO he’s the PHANTOM sixth player YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

he’s a front-line battler, but his skills are very support heavy: support skills that increase attack and defense for his teammates; i also wanna say he has spells that inflict dizziness ailments because in the anime, players are always losing their shit and whipping their heads around to find this tiny boy LMAO

he would definitely have a signature move that would direct all enemy attacks and status moves to himself for a set amount of turns to aid his teammates

his persona would have an extremely high Endurance and higher than average Luck stat but everything else is an all-time low

i’m going to say it, his shooting weapon is gonna be a paintball gun filled with neon paint just to fuck with the shadows and still make it HURT

code name would be “Umbra” (which means innermost part of a shadow) or “Ghost;” imagine some PT member shouting, “Oh no! Umbra’s knocked down!” and all the shadow sees is this brightass, neon kid on the floor

i would love his codename to be “Shadow” but there’s already the term shadow to describe the monsters in the metaverse

Kise Ryota

he views a “rebel” as your basic punk

since he’s a model, he knows japanese punk fashion very well

guess who’s gonna come into the metaverse being this hot ass punk boy? Kise motherfucking Ryota

black spike collar

lots of those tiny chains and harness/buckle action somewhere

ripped black leather pants that give Joker’s own leather pants a run for its money PLUS WITH SHINY BLACK BELT

lots of patchwork and stuff

THIS IS WHAT MORE OR LESS  I’M TALKING ABOUT IF YOU WANT VISUAL REFERENCES

his mask would totally be a visor goggle to add further to the punk theme

part of me is biased that Kise is a blondie and “kise” is based off of “yellow” and Ryuji is blonde and so now i headcanon him as the electric element

okay, but since he’s an “all-rounder” he’ll probably be able to access mid-tier level attacks of all elements, including almighty to an extent

but if i was basing his element off of personality, he’d be ice for sure; he’s actually cold-hearted to people whom he doesn’t consider “worthy” and the anime only showed his friendly side because most of the time, he’s shown talking to his friends and people he respects

speaking of all-rounder, his stats would be all high all around, with his Magic stat peaking the highest

Midorima Shintarou

this boy is a bit tricky to figure out what his PT attire would be

he doesn’t have any time to think about “what he would be as a rebel” type of thing

however, if he were to desire to become something, i’d say he would want to be a supernatural being who can distribute good luck for himself every day

think of those JRPG wizard/mage/warlock outfit motifs (and they match up nicely with the idea of astrology and horoscopes); probably lots of brown/beige/hues of green scheme? or a black/various colors of purple for a FULL on witch vibe

it makes sense too because as someone who always shoots from afar and never dunks, mage classes always cast from afar and never attack up close to their opponent

and his frog puppets remind me of a witch’s animal familiars LMAO

there you have it

his mask would be a dark dark purple or a pure black domino mask that has little stars littered sparingly everywhere on said mask

his shooting weapon? my guy is stacked on staves ready to cast long-range spells

wind element for sure (because his basketball shots all catch air with lots of hang time | (• ◡•)|) with tons of gun skills

signature move would be a magic skill that never misses no matter what (his range is the entire metaverse)

his persona stats are also pretty well rounded but his highest stats would be Magic and Luck, with Endurance being a close runner up

Aomine Daiki

also hard to figure out a PT attire for this guy

according to KUROFES, his alternative career would be a police officer so i would think he despises criminals and the Phantom Thieves altogether ?

if anything, he’s more suited for the S.E.E.S. investigation team in Persona 3

Aomine doesn’t give a fuck, but he has a soft spot to protect others so like having a gun evoker definitely suits him more than a mask summon BRJWBDJW

i see him as a fire element, but his persona would have a lot more physical skills than anything else

bonus: since he used to be Kuroko’s “light,” he can have some mid-tier level bless skills

to make a reference his “formless” shots and forms, as well as his rapid changes of pace, his signature move would be a 5-hit physical skill that changes targets with every hit

statwise, his Agility stat is the highest out of everyone in the GoM, and his Strength and Endurance would be runner up stats; his Magic stat would be extremely dismal

Murasakibara Atsushi 

this guy thinks about nothing but food and how he hates Teppei-species people basketball, so honestly he’s not interested in the Phantom Thieves business

like what? Murasakibara dressed in a getup? it’s a big “press X to doubt”

so i envision him to be more suitable for Persona 4, where he has to confront the other self that loves basketball and truly does care about people, and he had to be honest and accept that side for him to attain a persona

would he ever go back to the said “persona world” to go fight some shadows? unless there’s a good reason why he should or you bribed him with snacks, he won’t budge an inch

just give this man a Persona 4 school uniform and he’s ready to fight

his persona would primarily have physical skills, with lots of “wall” support skills, element “break” skills, and lots of passive skills (lots of nulls/resists) available for it to learn

highest stat for him would be Strength, then Endurance, and surprisingly have Agility as the runner up

he’s a huge tank of a persona user

Akashi Seijuro

i’ve talked about his PT outfit in this headcanon here, including his mask and why

hear me out, since this man is good at everything in school, and since there are archery clubs in Japanese schools, i wouldn’t be surprised if he was a Robin Hood with the scopes; what am i tryna say? his shooting weapon would be bow & arrows

i feel like people would automatically think he’s a bless/curse element like Akechi since “he has two sides,” but i feel like it’s not exactly right? if anything, i headcanon him to be more of a psychokinesis element

why? i want to attribute that to his emperor’s eye and his perfect passings, both each specialties from their respective “sides” of Akashi, and that requires extreme precision, almost to the level of “telepathy”

there’s also everyone thinking he can see the future too i mean

in the end, Akashi’s dual sides merged into one again, so having a whole bless/curse element wouldn’t even make sense anymore

but i will say, this man deserves to have a persona with almighty skills back to back

this guy isn’t the captain for no reason

so his persona would utilize psychokinesis and almighty skills, with special buff skills that increase critical rates for his allies (to refer to the fact that his passings enhance other players); his persona would also enjoy a large selection of passive skills to choose from to either be ultimate support or ultimate offensive sweeper

to also reiterate from the mentioned headcanon i linked, his code name would either be “Crimson” or “Scarlet”

his persona is a literal glass cannon, referring to the fact that Akashi is actually a mentally fragile basketball player; extremely high Strength, Magic, and Agility (but not as high as Aomine though) stats, average Luck stat, but extremely low Endurance stat

Momoi Satsuki

Momoi, i think, would envision herself in the metaverse as someone who’s never underestimated because of her usual demeanor or physical looks

even me, i got fooled thinking she was just only a fanservice girl and not this incredibly intelligent girl who was critical to her teams’ successes

so i would think she would imagine herself to be in a huge respectable position of power, like a lieutenant or general, who can command others and strategize to victory

her outfit would be similar to the attire from the Assassin’s Faith set from Love Nikki with the black Army Floppy Hat from the Army Major set on top (also from Love Nikki) 

color scheming i can imagine a lot of black/white with gold trimmings/accents here and there

her mask is a Venetian eye mask i can literally see it; it’s so pretty with the gold plating !!

her role would definitely be a navigator + analyzer/tactician from the backlines, so while she isn’t in the battle most of the times, if worse comes to shove, she’ll be in the frontlines as a last resort

in other words, she’s a Futaba, but she isn’t a sitting duck and can fight if needed

she has an incredible Luck stat, higher than average Agility stat, but average stats for the rest (Magic, Strength, and Endurance)

ailment, healing, support, and buff skills are all at her disposal, along with some gun skills (which can definitely be broken when paired with her high Luck stat)

“Duchess” (a woman having a noble rank) would be a really cute codename for her

Kagami Taiga

why do i literally see him as a shinobi (ninja)

i have no idea why i do, but i think it’s just his name:

“While Kagami's name is associated with the ‘tiger’, Himuro's name means ‘dragon’. In Chinese mythology, the Azure Dragon of the East and the White Tiger of the West are eternal rivals. This rivalry is further expressed in their surnames: ‘Hi (氷)’ means ‘ice’ while ‘Ka (火)’ translates as ‘fire’.” - KNB wiki

so i literally see both Himuro and Kagami as rival clans duking it out

jokes aside, Kagami is a very honorable player, but he did at one point exhibited a “darker side” to himself, playing selfishly and being arrogant in the beginning

shinobis were considered to be “dishonorable” and “beneath the honor” of the samurai in their eras, so i feel that this could be a great image for what Kagami thinks is a “rebel” 

being a ninja would make use of his jumping skills too

i imagine him in a fitted black halter neck top (so his abs are for us to see), with an iconic long red scarf wrapping his neck and hanging down to his waist at the back side

black forearm guards/wraps?

and then he has mahogany/dark red??/black???? loose cloth wrapped around his waist, like how you would tie a jacket over your waist ?? and then black nu-bakama pants and finally some dark boots for those pants to be tucked in

no one can convince me otherwise, but he’s gotta have a red full-face oni mask with black horns and some golden tiger stripes on the sides of the mask and around the eyes

HIS PERSONA ELEMENT IS BLESS BECAUSE HE IS KUROKO’S “LIGHT”

he would totally have some almighty skills and “Heat Riser,” a move that raises all of the user’s attack, defense, and accuracy/evasiveness (because the colors of the move’s animation remind me of Direct Drive Zone, something that was pretty much unlocked by Kagami for the team)

his persona is one of the OP/late game personas where all their stats are amazing across the board; even if his stats were high all around, his “lowest” would be his Luck stat

codename for him is “Tiger” no one cannot argue with me for this one NRNEIJFEO

[sergeantsporks]

[deep, deep, deep, deep, sigh]

Mmmmmmkay. Not sure this is going to be a popular post. In fact, probably going to be pretty darn unpopular (making the bold assumption that anyone will see it and/or care). But I want to talk about the PROBLEMS in the Tales of Arcadia writing.

Now, Tales of Arcadia has some diddly darn good writing. I like it. A lot. And most of it is fantastic and beautiful and makes me cry. All of the character arcs are 👌. Buuuuuuuuuuut as a whole, as a multi-show story, I do find issues with the plot.

Honestly, first off, I'm not going to bring 3below into this because 3below is a bit disconnected from the rest of the series. Maybe that will change Rise of Titans, but in general, the protagonists and conflict in 3below doesn’t really intersect much with Trollhunters and Wizards. Sure, it’s in the same world, and the characters interact, but the 3below plot is only minimally connected to the Trollhunters plot, and aside from Wizards picking up where 3below left off and Krel showing up and helping with the Hisirdoux’s Eternal Time Trap, the two shows don’t intersect at all, so. Moving on.

First of all, Trollhunters. Morgana, specifically. I have... issues... with the ending. I really, really, really felt like Jim and Gunmar kind of got sidelined for Claire and Morgana respectively. Now, is this issue biased by my dislike of Claire in general? Oh, definitely, I’m not going to deny that it factors in quite a bit. But even that aside, we’re given this protagonist, Jim, and they spend 3 seasons building up this big scary troll villain named Gunmar, and how there’s going to be this invasion/eternal night thingamabob where Jim’s gonna have to face off against Gunmar and-- PSYCH! Gunmar goes out like a little punk and we flip over to the universal story constant of “if there are two girls on the battlefield, they absolutely must find each other and fight.” And okay, Morgana was built up, too. She was, it’s not like they threw her in last minute. But she was built up as the MASTERMIND, as a puppeteer in the shadows, and I don’t know, it just sort of felt like she kind of lost her place in the story and became just another endgame boss. And I 100% absolutely DESPISE the fact that Jim got sidelined for Claire. Angor Rot coming in and holding Morgana? Fantastic. Superb. Again, the character arcs in this show are great. And Jim even stabbed Morgana! It was a great fight! The protagonist overcame harrowing ordeals, stabbed the-- oh, wait. Nope. She’s not dead. Now, let’s just knock Jim out cold (albeit in a very in-character way, taking the hit for his friends) and hand the reins over to Claire, who finishes her off. And I just [sighs again] it felt a little forced? Especially since in Wizards, we re-hashed the exact same thing and just made Morgana turn good instead of killing her. I felt like Morgana was rushed in as a villain when more time should have been taken, especially if they were just going to resurrect her and do it all over in Wizards. The pacing could have been better, that’s what I’m saying.

Speaking of Wizards and Morgana. Let’s talk about Wizards and Morgana. Again, it felt like they just re-hashed the ending of Trollhunters into Wizards and changed up the ending. Now, I have no problem with Claire fighting Morgana IN GENERAL. It’s cool. However, that being said, in Trollhunters, Morgana was built up to be a puppeteer character, then became the main villain that was just a cool final boss, like I already said. And since we brought the whole fight back up in Wizards, I feel like a better alternative would have been to yes have Claire fight Morgana in Trollhunters! But for that to be the side fight and the main fight to be the fight we were originally promised of Gunmar vs. Jim. For Gunmar to get beaten in something a little more epic than “One down, one more to go!” and then for Morgana, locked in her fight with Claire and seeing that the battle is being lost, slip away into the shadows and live to fight another day. Leaves a bit of intrigue, and keeps her initially-established role as a voice in the shadows intact. Granted, this does raise problems later in Wizards as to what zombie Arthur wants and why the Arcane Order would need to destroy the amulet, but I’m sure they could find a way around it, like that Morgana’s power was severely weakened by creating the eternal night and they were unleashing more power. Instead of “Hey, I liked being dead, it was quiet” it could be more of a “without my powers, I realized the error of my ways.” There are ways to fix the issue, is all I’m saying. Plus, to leave Morgana as an unsolved, living mystery would make it even more of a big deal to see her in the past in Wizards-- instead of Claire being “Grrrrrr, Morgana, that person I killed once!” it would be “Grrrrrr, Morgana, that person who’s still at large and we never managed to defeat!” Just makes more sense for you to be mad at an enemy you have unfinished business with than one you already defeated pretty soundly.

[Deep inhale]

Okay, let’s talk about the large, stone, elephant in the room. Troll Jim and his transformation back. Pure, honest, unadulterated opinion, right off the bat? Felt like a cop-out. Now, I have to sit here and constantly remind myself “It’s a kid’s show, it’s a kid’s show, remember that it’s a kid’s show,” but I’m sorry, I like my permanent things to be a little more permanent. I liked the fact that the Airbenders remained extinct in Avatar and we didn’t [gasp!] discover more! during the show (that changed in Legend of Korra obviously, but we’re not going to get into my feelings on that). It felt a bit cheap when there was a secret colony of living Alteans in Voltron. I know, I know, it’s a kids’ show, sometimes you like a happy ending, especially when the kids’ show is Wizards and ends up getting incredibly dark (what with the amulet getting destroyed, Merlin dying, the whole Beast-Jim thing, THE PROTAGONIST STRAIGHT UP DYING, all of the emotional/psychological darkness of the Arthur and Morgana arc) through the course of it! Yay, little bit of feel-good, Jim’s not a troll anymore. That being said, again. We got told that troll Jim was PERMANENT. There was no way out of it. Apparently Claire didn’t find a way to change that through whatever gap there was between Trollhunters and Wizards. And then it got fixed, by, uhhhhhhhhh, oh. They didn’t explain what exactly fixed it. Besides I guess the [heavy sigh] *low grumbling* power of love. Felt like a cop-out, and it felt like it cheapened Jim’s sacrifice at the ending of Trollhunters for it to just *poof* fix! at the end through the power of Claire’s love. Now, granted, Jim went through the absolute wringer of first turning into a great big monster and then getting turned to stone, so sure, give the boy a break and some therapy but it still felt like a cop-out.

Okay, all this to say. I ranted for like, three paragraphs about... two issues. I COMPLIMENTED parts of the writing WHILE I WAS BASHING OTHER PARTS. That is pretty dang good, guys. Yes, I have a whole essay on why there is a PROBLEM in this WRITING, but seeing as I could only find TWO THINGS that I had a problem with? That’s some pretty solid writing. Granted, they were two pretty big things that I had essays on, and that’s not great. But hey, two big plot issues versus a multitude of plot holes? Hot dang. Not bad. So, yeah, the character arcs are all fantastically carried out, and the plots in general are sound with the Sporks seal of approval on everything but two points. Thanks for reading through, I know it was long. Feel free to tell me exactly why I’m wrong about this being bad writing. I’d love to see someone else’s opinion and/or someone making me feel better about these issues that I have.

[grimcorvis]

Sins Locked Away- The Wedding

Part 2 of 3 ( Part 1 here) 

Party Crasher

The crowd let out several murmurs amongst themselves and turned their heads to see who had spoken out. Grim raised a brow and looked towards the back, keeping his hold on his fiance’s hands. Who on Earth would object to them being married? "Is that...?” 

Abaddon gasped, sensing an aura that sent a shiver down his spine. He called out to the man in question, trying to act calm through his fear. “If I remember correctly, we made sure not to invite you. Leave now or you will be escorted out.”

“Escort me out? I don’t think you’ll do such a thing, my boy.” The voice in the back laughed smugly and stepped out into the aisle. It was an all too familiar man; his eyes ablaze with anger and annoyance, a tight smile on his face. It was the Wizard. Grim growled lowly and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t test us. We know you’re not who you say you are, and we will escort you out by force. Leave.”

Abaddon could only stand there in fear, sensing the man’s aura that radiated so much power. There was only one being he knew of with that much anger and hatred inside them. Abaddon was surprised it took him this long to realize just who he was dealing with. “You’re not welcome here, Satan. Go back to your own circle of Hell before anyone gets hurt.”

There were murmurs and gasps from the humans, demons, and angels around them. The Wizard's tight-lipped smile turned into a sinister smirk. "You finally figured it out? It certainly took you long enough, Abaddon...or should I say, Jeffrey Payne~" He waved a hand over his body as his outfit and appearance changed in front of everyone. 'The Wizard' now wore a long black and elaborate trench coat, tall heeled boots, and a purple and black top hat. Blonde hair wrapped in a braid that rivaled Grim's own, and his eyes were now black and red. 

Grim instinctively stood in front of his bride, scowling. "Dear, stay close to me. We don't know what he could be planning." His hand had a death grip on Abaddon's as Satan began to stroll down the aisle towards them.

Abaddon nodded to Grim, steadying himself for whatever was about to happen. Thousands of possibilities raced across his mind as he stared the devil himself down. ‘Should I tell everyone to evacuate? Is there going to be a fight? Are we even strong enough to fight?’

Reaper was smart enough to read Abaddon's thoughts and shared them with Abigail. "Jeffrey, honey, you worry about you. Your friends and I will get everyone out." She whispered to him as Satan made his way closer and closer. "You two really know how to piss me off. No soul corruptions? No spirits sent to Hell? And I find out you're goofing off up here in a play and having this wedding. And you don't even invite your own boss! Honestly, I'm so wounded." Satan placed a hand on his chest and sarcastically sighed. "Now why do that to little old me?"

“Maybe because we hate you and everything you stand for?” The words fell out of Abaddon’s mouth before he could even think of the repercussions for saying them. “I’ve spent 450 years doing whatever you told me to do, and I hated every second of it. You can’t control me any longer.”

"And me. Both of us are done being your puppets." Grim nodded in agreement, looking back at Abaddon with a small smile. Satan paused in his tracks and was silent for a minute, then burst out laughing. "How pathetic is that! You really don't know, do you? I have total control over you!" He reached into his coat and pulled out a worn and old contract. It unfurled and Satan flashed his sharp teeth. "I believe you'll recognize the signature at the bottom."

Abaddon squinted at the parchment, trying to decipher the signature at the bottom. A wave of cold washed over him as he realized who’s name was signed on the line. “That’s… no, it can’t be…” 

"That's right: Joseph Payne!" Satan cackled and tossed the contract to them. "Your religious father begged me for help since the Almighty didn't help him. Shows how good of a god She is, doesn't it? I wonder what it was he begged me for, why don't you take a look at what your dear old dad did~" He pointed at the signature and the last paragraph before it. Joseph was pale-faced and looked away out of shame. "Son...I am so sorry…"

Abaddon shook as the contract was tossed to him, landing on the floor in front of him. He looked to his father with rage and disappointment. “What did you do?!” 

Joseph heaved a sad sigh and his eyes glanced at the contract. "...I asked for you. For a son. I was terrified that I would get a daughter, you remember that they were treated so poorly back then. I tried to pray to God...but I got nothing. I prayed and prayed for hours, days even...still nothing. With desperation, I turned to him." He looked up at Satan with a frown. "He gave me what I asked for. In return- you would be his when you died…forgive me, Jeffrey."

Abaddon was stunned to silence, trying to process everything that was said. “...All this time… I thought what I did caused me to become… this. Turns out, like most of my problems growing up, you were the cause of it.”

Grim placed his hand on Abaddon's shoulder. "Abby...we can deal with this later. Right now, another asshole requires our attention. Let's focus on getting him out of here and getting everyone to safety." Satan chuckled darkly at the display in front of him. "Oh boo hoo~ Such hurt and betrayal. Come now, come back home with me, my son. It's time for you to really learn how to be a princely demon."

“I am not your son! I’m not your anything, not anymore. You don’t own me.” Abaddon stared down the man that had caused him so much anguish for centuries. “I don’t care how much power you think you have, because you have none against me.”

“You should care, Abaddon.” Satan sneered and brought a hand behind his back. “While I have power, I know that you hardly have any left. If I have to kill you to bring back the demon in you, I will.” He pulled out a horrid scythe from behind him, its blade pulsing with one of the most powerful demonic auras ever felt. It was jagged and purple, adorned with a skull frozen in mid-scream. The humans shrieked and started to flee in random directions at the sight of it.

“Not if I have any say in this. You won’t lay a finger on my bride!” Grim glared at his boss and turned to the podium where a golden cross hung. He pried it off and revealed it to be the holy spear he had ordered from Heaven, the blue spearhead glowing brightly. “Abaddon, stay close to Alistair and Raphael. Have the others help the humans out of here.” He ordered, stepping forward in a defensive stance. “I promised I would keep you safe, and I meant it!”

Abaddon hesitated for just a moment, not wanting to leave Grim to fight by himself. “Alright, just… be careful.” He stood back, the angels standing in front to protect him. He hated not being able to help, but he knew just how dangerous getting in the line of fire for that weapon could be. 

“Playing the hero, are we Reaper? That’s gutsy. I’ve always wanted to know what would happen if I killed you, looks like we get to find out today!” Satan charged forward and raised his scythe at Grim. It was blocked by the spear, the holy and hellish auras crackling and sparking as they met with each clash. Koban and the other demons tried to help the humans out of the garden, while Alistair, Raphael, Reaper, and Abigail stuck close to Abaddon. Reaper whimpered at Abaddon’s feet, scared out of his puppy wits. “Papa, I’m scared! What’s gonna happen to Daddy and the bad man if this keeps going? Is he gonna come for us?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that…” Abaddon was just as scared as Reaper was, the only difference was that he had to hide it for the sake of everyone around him. 

Spear and scythe continued to strike against each other, the skies overhead growing dark as their fight continued. The Lord of Hell was starting to struggle at this point, but he had just begun his real fight. “You honestly think you can save your ‘bride’, Reaper?” Grim let out a laugh and smirked with determination. “Of course I will, we love each other and I know he would do the same for me.” The Devil narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure? Perhaps he was under my command this whole time, I own him after all. Would he do this for you? Or maybe…” “Maybe...what?” “Maybe he was using you, trying to reach the one thing he lost long ago. He was using you to get to Robin, his first love~ Didn’t you try to get it for him, didn’t the thought of getting Robin back make him happier?”

Grim drank in Satan’s words, repeating them in his head. No- no that wasn’t true- was it? He remembered their conversation they had long ago when Abaddon was recovering his memories. He recalled the kiss he was given when Abaddon was told that Grim would go get Robin’s soul. He did want to see Abaddon happy, and Abaddon seemed overjoyed at that. Did...did he really still want Robin? After all the things they went through together? He paused and shook his head to clear the doubt and lies Satan wove with his words, and that gave Satan his window of opportunity. With a swift swing, the spear was knocked from Grim’s grasp and the blade pierced through his skin. A deep gash opened on Grim’s body, sending blood into the air like rose petals. Thunder could be heard above them as Grim was struck, a flash of lightning streaking across the sky. 

There was only silence after the sound of thunder, the world too shocked by what had just occurred. Satan’s laughter was the first thing to break the silence, followed by Abaddon’s blood-curdling scream. “NNNNOOOOOOOOOO!” He fell to his knees, sobbing as his beloved fell to the cold ground, a pool of crimson around his limp body.

The angels, remaining humans, and the demons all stared in horrid shock as Grim now laid on his back in his own blood, lying limp. His chest still rose up and down, he was breathing but for how much longer? Satan laughed, his scythe blade dripping with Grim’s red blood. The spear rolled in the grass, stopping near the podium. “You were always so quick to listen to my lies, Reaper. Now, look where it got you. All I need to do now is put you out of your misery and reclaim what is mine.”

Abaddon’s sorrow quickly turned to rage. He growled at Satan as his skin darkened, wings ripping holes in the back of his dress. Soon, Apollyon had taken over. “YOU BASTARD! I’M GONNA RIP YOU TO SHREDS!” He picked up the holy spear, smoke burning from where the weapon met his demonic skin.

Satan glanced up from the dying body of Grim and couldn’t help but snicker. “Are you sure? You can barely hold onto the spear, let alone contain your beastly demon side. What will you do if you hurt your family and friends? One false move and you could finish off your precious love before I get to~ Now be a good prince and let me end this.”

‘Prince?’ Something about those words struck something deep within him. Abaddon’s true voice came through Apollyon’s form. “The contract… You made my mother pregnant with me… which, ew by the way, but that means… I’m technically your son. I’m a prince of Hell.” As soon as those words left his lips, Abaddon was engulfed in blue fire. When Abaddon emerged, he was dressed in ancient clothing and armor, nine horns adorning his head. His eyes turned blue, as did everything else that was once red. “I am Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, the demon of lust, and the true ruler of the nine circles.” The holy spear had changed form to a demonic sword glowing with blue flames. “Looks like you're my bitch today~ I wonder, should I decapitate you, or castrate you first?”

Everyone now stared at what was once Abaddon, now Asmodeus. This was possible? Even Satan seemed a bit surprised at this. The angels and the others backed up and gave him space, knowing this was going to be a big fight between father and son. The Devil frowned, raising his weapon at the prince. The blood was still fresh and dripping from the blade of the scythe. “True Ruler? I’m warning you, boy. Back down and let me finish the Reaper, and I might let you off with an easy punishment when we return to Hell. You may be my son, but I can still kill you too.” Thunder rumbled again, louder this time as his red eyes burned at Asmodeus’ blue ones.

“Oh please, you kill me? I’d like to see you try.” Asmodeus readied himself for a fight, brandishing his sword. “Bring it on, Lucifer.”

“I plan to, Asmodeus!” Satan hissed and charged at his son, eyes blazing and teeth bared. He swung his scythe as he got close, causing Abigail, Reaper, and the angels to run out of the way. While Satan was away from Grim, Raphael rushed over to his dying body to try and see what he could do to heal him. “Get him, Papa! Kick his a- butt! Avenge Daddy!” “Go, Jeffrey! You can do it, sweetie!” Abigail and Reaper cheered him on from the side, giving the prince moral support.

Asmodeus yawned as their weapons met, easily parrying Satan’s attack. “Boooooring. Can’t you at least try to kill me? It’s no fun if it’s this easy.” He hurled a ball of blue fire at Satan, much more powerful than his usual abilities. 

Satan gasped and dodged the blue fire as it landed in the grass a few feet from where Grim and Raphael were. “Eep! Careful!” Raphael warned as he was trying not to panic. Clearly, healing wasn’t going well and the battle wasn’t helping. The Lord of Hell growled and launched his own fire at Asmodeus, continuing to fight back with his bloody scythe. “I’ll add your blood to your love’s! Perhaps I can beat you close to death and you can watch as I kill everyone here!”

Asmodeus dodged the fire as it hit the podium behind him. “Now this is getting interesting~” He lunged at Satan, taking the fight more seriously this time. 

Thunder clapped again with another flash of lightning, rain beginning to fall from the sky as their battle waged on in the Garden. Abigail and Reaper continued to cheer on Asmodeus while Alistair and the other demons finished getting the humans out of harm’s way. Satan realized he would have to start playing dirty again. “Are you proud of this now? Fighting your own father, your world crumbling around you, and your lover dying? It’s your fault you know~ If you never slacked off or met him, none of this would have happened. You caused Grim to get hurt, you’re the one who is letting him die~”

Asmodeus was unphased by his words, being the combination of Abaddon and Apollyon made him a surprisingly rational thinker. “Exactly, I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for Grim. I’d still be working for you, doing a job Abaddon hates and Apollyon only tolerates for little to no pay. Instead, Abaddon is finally happy after centuries of your abuse. I can feel each scar that was caused by you. Now, you’re going to feel the same.”

Well, Satan didn’t expect this from Asmodeus. His little mind tricks usually worked on everyone, even demons. Now to have Asmodeus easily not play into his words caused him slight shock..and building anger. “Hate to break it to you, but I shall walk away without a scratch. You will have more than a few puny scars when I’m done with you. I’ll tear your tail off and let the dogs eat you alive!”

“Dogs, huh? Not a bad idea.” Asmodeus turned to look at the crowd of Abaddon’s loved ones. “Reaper, come to me.”

Reaper’s eyes flashed yellow and he nodded, taking off the pillow saddle and running over to Asmodeus. As he ran, his puppy body started to get larger and his horns grew on his head. His fur rippled as his fat turned to muscle, his teeth becoming sharper and his eyes glowing bright yellow. In a matter of seconds, standing beside the demon, was a full-grown Reaper the Hellhound. The giant wolf-dog growled at Satan, saliva dripping from his jaws. “I’m ready to fight by your side, Papa.”

“Good boy.” Asmodeus turned to Satan, a smirk on his face. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

“Grr, this will change nothing! This is just another creature I need to get rid of to end you!” Satan growled, seemed like his son didn’t even want to go with him by force. “Let’s finish this, you’ll have quite the punishment waiting for you in the deepest circle of Hell!” His scythe started to glow and purple flames lined the blade, light flickering against the crimson blood still there. “Now, show me what a ‘Prince of the Nine Circles’ can actually do.”

“With pleasure~” Asmodeus took a fighting stance once again, preparing to strike. “Reaper, sick ‘em.” 

“Yes, Papa!” Reaper charged at Satan and bared his teeth, latching on to the arm that held the scythe. His teeth dug into Satan’s flesh, causing his own blood to trickle down the wound. “AGH! Get off of me, you stupid flea-ridden runt!” He shouted, dropping his scythe and smacking Reaper in his face to get him off.

Asmodeus saw his opportunity, striking Satan straight through his heart (if he even had one). Black blood pooled around his sword, adding fuel to the blue flames that engulfed it. “Too easy. Better luck next time, Satan.”

“GAH-” Satan only had time to gasp as the holy blade impaled him, and he looked down at his own chest as his blood dripped down his coat. Reaper let go of his arm and Satan looked at Asmodeus. “Heh..kind of funny, isn’t it? One life for another… I couldn’t be more proud of the bastard you are.” As he spoke, his physical form started to fade away in the wind like ash. “Good luck, Prince Asmodeus. If you defeated me, then you’ll make a damn good ruler of Hell.”

“I’ll see you in the 9th circle… father.” Asmodeus removed his sword from Satan’s body, causing the rest of his form to turn to ash. He fell to the ground, exhausted as he returned to Abaddon’s form which was now bruised, bloody, and burnt. 

[criticalroletheoryhouse]

A Wizard's Intelligence Intrigue

Today I wanted to talk about fandom darling Essek Theylass and the recurring question that has incited more than one fandom conflict: Can we trust him?

There’s been hefty evidence for both sides, but today I wanted to talk about my own personal suspicion, that Essek is working with the Cerberus Assembly. Please note, this will tie into my own personal theory that Trent Ikathon is part of the Angel of Irons cult so if you want more clarification on that, read that first.

I honestly followed a different trajectory than many other watchers of the campaign, I wasn’t super suspicious of Essek to begin with, however in the most recent episodes my suspicion has skyrocketed. This started with Nott’s successful insight check about Essek’s behavior after their interrogation of Taskhand Adeen Tasithar of Den Tasithar, thought to be working for or with the Angel of Iron’s cult.

During Fjord’s interrogation of the prisoner it became clear that there was some level of mind control applied to Adeen when he acted in concert with Oban. The group noted that when the mind control had broken on Yasha it had left a mark on her neck, however when Essek went into the cell to check he stated that there had been no corresponding mark on the neck of Adeen he reported that the man bore no such mark.

Interestingly when Nott took an insight check on this statement’s veracity (22), Matt gave Sam a whisper and Nott later expressed a certain wariness about Essek to Caleb, notably it  wasn’t that she thought he was lying but rather that she thought that there was something funky with Essek’s manner, saying: “Essek seemed okay with you today, right?” to Caleb. She went on to express concern over the prisoner’s welfare after Essek’s visit as well, however the fact that she didn’t just accuse Essek of lying outright means that Matt’s whisper to Sam was more complex than a simple yes or no to Essek’s answer about his neck.

That turn of phrase that Sam uses “Essek seemed okay with you today?” made me take notice because Essek’s main relationship within the Nein is with Caleb, and their kinship as Wizards is both sweet and disturbing in turns. The bedrock of my suspicion of Essek began with this insight check but ballooned when he began talking about his attitudes towards the Kryn dynasty and the relationship of the Kryn religion to arcana. When talking to the Nein about the Kryn system, Essek makes it clear that he doesn’t really regard the beacons as being religious in nature and the fact that magical research is limited with regard to the beacons frustrates him. In particular his comments touched on how he respected the Empire’s veneration of arcane research in their governance.

This comment in particular was aimed toward Caleb in a way that (with Caleb’s background in mind) seemed almost calculated to generate a reaction, and at the very least (without that background) was an attempt to create sympathy or commonality through agreement. Essek makes it clear to the group through subtext: his hesitancy with the Bright Queen and Den, and explicitly: his veneration of the Empire’s relationship with magic, that he has a deep kinship with the mages of the Empire that he thought the Nein would find sympathetic.

However this begs the question: How come you think that Essek is working with the Cerburus Assembly, sympathy doesn’t mean betrayal?!

This is speculative, but Essek being a traitor would wrap up many of the loose ends in understanding how the theft of the beacons (which prompted the whole war) might have occurred. It also might explain just how the Cult of the Angel of Irons had managed to infect the highest echelons of The Kryn Empire.

1.     We know that Oban had contacts in the Kryn government, namely Adeen Tasithar, but it isn’t at all clear how Oban would have had access to these figures, or why the control over Adeen wasn’t lost when Oban died—which would seem to imply that whoever had control over Adeen was a figure other than Oban. Essek has the capability to do so and perhaps enough sympathy toward the Empire and interest in the magical power of the beacons to make Adeen trade them to Imperial Mages. This evidence feels thin however as Essek knows that the Angel of Irons cult is a front for the Chained Oblivion. If he were responsible for Adeen interfacing with the Cult, it would likely be from the perspective of a Cerberus Assembly double agent ostensibly trying to ‘control the situation’ or take advantage of the confusion the cultists were all too willing to create. More likely, Essek gave the information about who would be best positioned to take the Beacons to an Empire scorger or intelligence operative and who then set up the Cult to take the fall.

2.     While it would seem that Adeen Tasithar was working for the Angel of Irons, it is also clear that he stole the beacons and “sold” them to someone on the Empire side which we know resulted in the Cerberus Assembly having at least one of the originally stolen beacons and some level of contact between the agents of the Empire and the Angel of Irons. This connects to my Theory that Trent Ikathon is the actual head of the cult of the Angel of Irons. As the puppet master behind both the scourger faction, which act as intelligence operatives and the Angel of Irons cult which seeks to sow chaos and disorder, Ikathon could easily have had the means before the war to flip Essek, another intelligence operative with promises of magical research and access to the beacons for research purposes, which we know Essek has been wanting. We know that the intelligence forces between the nations were in contact before the war and throughout the conflict. Other small things such as half of Star Razor being in the hands of a Cerberus Assembly researcher and the other half being in the care of a researcher for the Kryn indicate a level of potential connectivity in their inteligencia. We know that Essek thinks the world could become a better place if the beacons were studied, perhaps he thought the war was a just cost for that. He certainly reacted negatively about the prospect of trying to force the Empire to turn over the Beacon that they had come into possession of in addition to the one they had found in favor of ending the conflict.

3.     This will be divisive, and honestly this is less evidence and more of a gut discomfort so bear with me. I find the way he talks about magic with Caleb uncomfortable especially in comparison to Yussa and other Archmages that we’ve encountered like Allura. There is a certain focus on the superiority of arcane magic when he talks about spells with Caleb that rubs me the wrong way, in particular because he seems to use that perspective to try and make Caleb feel superior by devaluing other members of the party. To be fair, coming from a society like the Dynasty, which doesn’t respect the arcane in comparison to the divine, might particularly engender that attitude as a defense mechanism, but it still gets my hackles up because it is very akin to that extremely damaging mindset that is at the root of a lot of the corruption and violence at the heart of the Empire. The focus on debts and favors only further makes me nervous because that language speaks to a mindset that seems to be in conflict with genuine and abiding affection. There’s something exploitative about a lot of Essek’s interactions with the Mighty Nein, which make me anxious from a narrative angle.

4.     Matt keeps saying that Essek is a very complicated character, and it seems to me that the emphasis he keeps putting on Essek’s complexity wouldn’t be fulfilled by Essek just being lonely and socially awkward. We know that Essek is involved in political machinations and intelligence work outside of the view of the Nein that he has told them he will be calling in a debt to have them help with. Whatever that situation is isn’t going to be easy; I simply think that the debt will be connected to intrigue a lot closer to home than the Mighty Nein are expecting.

I don’t think that Essek is a bad person and I think that he genuinely likes the Mighty Nein, Caleb in particular, but I don’t think that precludes him from working with a government that he views as better and more progressive. It’s also entirely possible that he got in over his head and doesn’t know how to back out it’s impossible to say what is up with him at this point because he hasn’t ye. We know that Essek is the Shadowhand—and intelligence position—and that he has significant sympathies to the Imperial view of magic, to the point where he wouldn’t tell his Queen that a Beacon, a focal point for the reincarnation of their people, was still in the hands of their enemy.

As always, only one man (*cough* Matt *cough*) knows the answer and as of right now he’s not telling. Let’s see what fate has in store for the story.

[missbrunettebarbie]

So, I decided I would also publish a few chapters of my newest fic here. Enjoy!

Your heart's desire

Summary:

Regulus Black betrays the Dark Lord and lives to tell the tale.

Years later a strange boy appers out of nowhere claiming to be the son of James Potter and Regulus' own wife. Life as a former Death Eater just became complicated

Chapter 1: The traitor

It was a rare sight to see Albus Dumbledore going into shock. The defeater of Grindelwand, Master of the Elder Wand, Supreme Mugwamp, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts was a hard person to surprise. Yet, now he look like he might have a heart attack.

“Voldemort made a Horcrux?!”

The last word was almost spat out, like a curse. The boy that was facing the venerable wizard nodded. He was young, too young to have such a haunted gaze and so many lines on his face. But like many that were caught in Voldemort’s war, Regulus had grown up fast.

“Oh, I am quite sure he made several Horcruxes. The Dark Lord will want to have as many safety nets as possible.”

The boy fell silent again waiting for a response that would not come. Albus looked deeply troubled by these news. Luckily, his companions weren’t as well informed about the Dark Arts, so the idea of Horcruxes didn’t alarm them at all.

“Right. And you claim have one of these Hor-things, little brother?”

The speaker was another young boy, almost a man, who looked very similar to Regulus. Perhaps the biggest difference between them were Sirius’ muggle clothes and the hateful look on his face.

Sirius didn’t believe for a second his brother’s claims. Regulus could have not turned on the Dark Lord. Not when he had always been following mummy around, got into Slytherin and even took the Dark Mark. Regulus was the perfect pureblood, and Sirius hated him for it.

When the letter first came to the Potters’ house, he had assumed his little brother was laying a trap for him.

Come to the Leaky Cauldron. I have important thing to discuss with you. My allegiances may be changing

As if Sirius would truly believe that. Sadly, Albus had insisted they go and find put what Regulus wanted, though the man had been far more cautious back than. But ever since Regulus had told him Kreacher’s tale (Kreachers?! Honestly, if there was anyone Sirius would trust less than Regulus, it was the mad House Elf), Albus seemed to lose all his common sense, trusting every single word that came out of the Death Eater’s mouth.

“I do not claim to have it, merely that I know what it is and where it is.” Regulus clarified, with a glare at the other Black. Then, turning to Dumbledore: “We must find it and destroy it now. I am sure the Dark Lord will soon find out about my betrayal.”

“No doubt, you want some assurances about your safety when that happens”

Finally, Dumbledore seemed to remember who he was talking to. Regulus just looked at him with a straight face:

“Can you blame me for wanting to live, Headmaster?”

“No, I cannot, my boy. I have to confess, I have never imagined you of all people would turn against the Pureblood ideaology”

“You think I care about useless Pureblood propaganda when Voldemort had the temerity to create a Horcrux? You know what this means, Proffesor. He is truly….truly a monster”

Sirius Black and James Potter snorted at the rather late realization, but Dumbledore only nodded as if Regulus made perfect sense.

“Indeed, it seems we have a common enemy, Regulus Black. So I must ask you: are you willing to oppose Voldemort and risk your life and the lives of all who you love in the process?”

“My life has been hanging by a thread since the day I took the Dark Mark. As for the people I love, well, I only really care about Kreacher right now.”

Sirius groaned at the mention of the hated creature, while James snickered at the idea of a Death Eater caring about a House Elf.

“In this case, Mr Black, let us talk about this…. Locket”

Regulus nodded and started to explain everything he knew. Which wasn’t much. From Kreacher’s knowledge and the Dark Lord’s occasional ramblings he had deduced that Voldemort had turned Slytherin’s locket into a Horcrux. He also knew that whatever potion was there to protect it must be something extremely dangerous, maybe even deathly. He had entertained the idea of going into the cave himself and drinking the potion, but that meant he would most likely day. And even more, he will die before the locket could be destroyed which meant such a sacrifice would be most likely for nothing. He could give the locket to Kreacher, but who could say the foul object won’t try to harm the House Elf?

Sadly, his only option was trusting Albus Dumbledore and his merry band of do-gooders. Do-gooders that included Sirius and James freaking Potter.

Regulus liked to think he was above school grudges, but he would not hesitate for a second to curse the man that had led his friends into playing pranks on Slytherin House for seven years. If there was one good thing in being a Death Eater was being able to curse anyone you wanted without worrying to much about consequences (unless the person you wanted to hex was a more influential Death Eater than you, of course). Alas, it seemed he will have to tolerate James Potter for the time being.

For his part, Albus Dumbledore wasn’t very happy with this turn of events. Of course, the fact they finally had a lead to destroying Tom once and for all filled him with joy. Joy that was overshadowed by he knowledge that his former student has fallen so deep into the Dark Arts he used one of humanity’s worst creations to preserve his life. There was also the matter of Regulus Black. The boy seemed genuine and his information was invaluable, but Albus still couldn’t banish the uneasy sensation he felt at the thought of fully trusting this person who had been raised to believe in the superiority of his blood, who had spent seven years with Slytherins who had filled his head with nonsense about Tom’ greatness and who, after graduating, had pledged himself to Britain’s worst Dark Lord. There was also the matter that he was a Black. Yes, it was hypocritical considering Sirius was a Black as well, but Albus had seen Sirius reject all of his family’s teaching ever since he was sorted into Gryffindor. On the other hand, Regulus had actively embraced them. Until now, when he conveniently switched sides and brought with him the means of Voldemort’s demise. Could it be a trap? Could Tom be cunning enough to try and trick them like this? To what end? And why use Regulus? Because he had thought Sirius would trust his brother? In that case, Tom would have miscalculated. Sirius distrusted him more than anyone else. Maybe Riddle had thought Albus will offer a second chance to a young boy more readily than to a grown wizard?

There were too many questions and their time was too short. In the unlikely case the young Black was telling the truth they needed to act now. The Horcrux must be found as soon as possible. Yet, he could not forget the like hood of a trap.

“Alright, Mister Black, let’s assume I believe you and I am willing to offer my protection. You do understand you will have to tell me exactly where the Horcrux can be found. After that, you will come with me to the Order of the Phoenix’ headquarters – I assume you know what the Order is from your master – and tell us everything you know.”

“No.”

The firm word was so surprising that Potter and the older Black gasped and even Dumbledore’s eyes widen in surprise.

“You, Death Eater scum, have the temerity to..”

“Enough, James. Let’s hear him out”

Regulus took a deep breath. It was clear that he did not found it easy to oppose the great Albus Dumbledore. In his own way, the headmaster was as frightening as the Dark Lord. Yet, he had already chosen to stand against one, he will not let himself be bullied by another.

“Let’s make something clear, Dumbledore, I had once decided to join an illegal organization and follow blindly the orders of a very powerful, but slightly mad wizard, and as a result I have no intention of doing it again. I am not one of your Gryffindors who you can order around like a puppy…”

“Why, you liitle shit..”

Regulus paid no mind to either the interruption or the insult.

“…. nor am I a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff who’s willing to work for you for a greater cause amd as such will excuse you a great many things. I am a Slytherin, one that has already defied the Dark Lord. I refuse to trade him for you, Professor. I will fight against him and as such I will fight by your side, but do not think me another puppet. So, I will not tell you where the Horcrux is. I will show you. I want to be there when it is destroyed once and for all. After that…. We’ll see.”

If the older man was insulted by his harsh words he did not show it, he just nodded.

“I suppose I can agree with these terms. However, it will not be just the two of us that go to retrieve the Horcrux, we will be accompanied by a number of trusted people. And Kreacher.”

At the House Elf’s name both James and Sirius looked confused, while Regulus fought down the urge to swear. While asking for Kreacher to come with them was a rational demand as the elf was the only one who had entered the cave beforehand it was also a strategic move. Dumbledore did not trust Regulus and needed insurance it was not a trap. It did seem like the old man believed him when he had said Kreacher was the only creature he still loved. Sadly, the former Death Eater had no choice but to agree.

“One more thing, Mister Black.”

“Oh?”

The young man struggled to keep his face a mask of politeness, but it all fell apart at Dumbledore’s next question:

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yes.”

He was proud of how steady his voice came. Meanwhile, Sirius and James were getting angry again and started pointing their wands at him. Reg fought the urge to do the same. He had too many unpleasant memories of being hexed by the Marauders at Hogwarts. He forced himself to not think about it.

“I killed two muggles. Mother and daughter two months ago.”

“You, bastard! How could you do something like that?!”

“Oh, shut up, Sirius. You tried to kill a classmate at he age of fifteen!”

“How… how do you know that? Did Snivellus..”

“Sirius” Albus tried to silence the Gryffindor. They could not afford to lose track of their objective. “Excuse me, Mr. Black, but I fell to see how your brother’s sins absolve your own.

This sobered Regulus.

“They do not. I know it does not mean much, but I did not want to kill them. The other Death Eater, they were torturing them. It was… horrible. I don’t even know why they were in the Dark Lord’s house but they were screaming and …”

And the woman kept begging me to help her daughter. I should have tried something, anything but I was too much of a coward.

“… and I killed them to end their suffering.”

He searched the faces of the first three who he had ever heard this confession. Potter looked disturbed, Sirius a bit mollified while Dumbledore betrayed no emotion. Just like the Dark Lord, indeed.

“I see. How did Voldemort react to your act of mercy?”

“I lied to him and told him that I thought any kind of attention given to Muggles is a waste of a wizard’s time. He seemed to believe me.”

Ironically, the other three did not seem as convinced. But Regulus has had enough chit-chat.

“Well, Albus” he used the Headmaster’s first name on purpose “if there is nothing else, I would like if we start our Horcrux hunt.”

“Yes, I believe that will be best”

[the-light-followed]

SOURCERY (1988) [DISC. #5; RINCEWIND #3]

“It’s vital to remember who you really are.  It’s very important.  It isn’t a good idea to rely on other people or things to do it for you, you see.  They always get it wrong.”

Rating: 7/10

Standalone Okay: Yes, but more fun with context.

Read First: Yeah.

Discworld Books Masterpost: [x]

* * * * * * * * * *

Magic!  Sourcery! Death!  The apocryphal apocalypse, the Apocralypse!  Puns!  A cowardly wizard who can’t do magic and who takes it in turns to run away from, and then toward, and then away again from danger!

Over the course of the story, Sourcery literally and figuratively rewrites reality and magic across the Disc.

Sourcery feels a lot like a second start for the Discworld series.  Much like The Colour of Magic, it introduces many of Discworld’s major locations, characters, and themes.  It even stars Rincewind, in all his cowardly, unmagical glory.  But unlike The Colour of Magic, Pratchett has locked down not just the look of the place, but also the feel of it.  The Discworld, as a setting, balances on the knife’s edge between absurdist humor and poignant sincerity, and it makes sense that it took Pratchett a couple novels to get the blend just right.  I feel like the first five books in the series mark a slow path to the Discworld that the rest of the novels will occupy comfortably, starting with the purely satirical high fantasy nonsense of The Colour of Magic, shifting through the more original concepts of Equal Rites and Mort, and finally settling in place with Sourcery.

With the arrival of Coin, the powerful Sourcerer—who unlike a wizard is a source of magic, not just able to use the stuff—the balance of magic and nature shifts, wizards and towers rise and fall, and the Things from the Dungeon Dimensions briefly push very, very close to the Discworld before they’re driven back.  

By the time the story ends, magic is revitalized and permanently changed through the arrival (and then departure) of Sourcery, and the balance of power between city-states is permanently altered.  In fact, it is strongly implied that because of these magical battles, some of these places have entirely ceased to exist.

Whoops!

We get a solid cast of characters for this one, coming together and splitting apart again for some really well-paced storylines running alongside one another.  There’s Conina (daughter of Cohen the barbarian, hairdresser by profession and warrior by genetics) and Nijel the Destroyer (son of a grocer, but he read a book about how to be a barbarian once), the Unseen University wizards (who put all their skill points into magic powers and absolutely none into common sense), the Librarian and his flock of books (the books literally fly like birds to escape a fire in the Library), Coin the Sourcerer (parented badly by the ghost of his dead father which is possessing his magical staff (no, really)), Death and the other Horsemen of the Apocralypse, etc., etc.  Even the Archchancellor’s Hat has a pretty solid role to play.

And, of course, we’ve got our main protagonist, beloved run-away wizard Rincewind.

Western media trains audiences to see and expect cowardice as a negative trait, usually given to villains, traitors, and failures.  But although Rincewind’s cowardice is as much a defining characteristic as his lack of magical ability and his misspelled hat, I see him as one of the kindest and most genuinely likeable protagonists on the Disc.  (As opposed to my other faves: Vimes can be too intense, Vetinari too terrifying, and Granny is some unholy combination of both those things.  Moist is, quite frankly, a little shit.)  

Rincewind has ‘runs away a lot, usually from things that want him dead’ as his main character flaw, sure, but I can’t honestly fault him for that. Let’s be real—it’s just a logical continuation of the all-important survival trait, which Rincewind has in spades. And at the same time, he’s also knowledgeable, sarcastically funny, kind in his own way, and totally, completely harmless.  It’s almost sweet, even, how utterly nonthreatening this man is.  Like Coin the Sourcerer says: he’s like a funny little rabbit.  How can you not love that?

I also love that Rincewind’s cowardice doesn’t stop him from doing what has to be done, even when—maybe especially when—no one else seems to be answering the call.  Despite all the infinitely more powerful wizards up in the tower with the Sourcerer, it’s Rincewind who shows up with no magic at all, just a half-brick in a sock, ready to at least try to stop the inevitable unraveling of reality and destruction of the Disc.  (I’m standing by my claim that Rincewind might be a terrible wizard, but an excellent accidental witch.  See my post on Equal Rites for the distinction.)

Anyway, in the end, it turns out that it’s not Coin that’s the real problem, it’s his staff; Rincewind immediately turns to protecting Coin, a literal child.  When he and Coin are pulled through to the Dungeon Dimension, Rincewind uses himself as a distraction so Coin can escape, even though it means he’ll be trapped there with terrible things that want him dead.  The book ends with him still trapped in the Dungeon Dimensions.

That’s not great, obviously, but one thing I really appreciate about the Discworld series is that even though bad things happen or threaten to happen all the time, you can always trust Pratchett not to be cruel for cruelty’s sake or even just for shock and awe.  Things are scary and bad, but they will turn out okay in the end. Pratchett’s not about that grimdark bullshit, and that’s a promise you can take straight to the bank.  He understands people in such a real way—none of his characters are purely good or purely evil, but on the whole, when pushed, they tend toward good.  They think. They reconsider.  They try.  Even when it seems pointless, they fight back, and Pratchett always rewards his characters—and the readers—for that.

Sourcery, a prime example of this, ends on a pretty solid cliffhanger.  Knowing as we do now that there are four more books that star Rincewind in the Discworld lineup, we as a modern audience don’t need to worry.  But in the context of 1988, where there are two full years and three full novels before Rincewind is mentioned again, we have to take Pratchett at his word, and the man really does do everything in his power to reassure us that all will be well:

“Silence drifted around the remains of a hat, heavily battered and frayed and charred around the edges, that had been placed with some ceremony in a niche in the wall.  No matter how far a wizard goes, he will always come back for his hat.”

The Rincewind books were actually some of the last ones I read of the Discworld, my first time around, to the point where I already trusted Pratchett not to mess with my feelings for no reason.  It’s always nice to hit a cliffhanger and know the author will give a satisfying, well-written payoff—he wouldn’t have written it as he did if he didn’t intend to go somewhere with it later.

And now, having read all the books several times over, I have the satisfaction of being certain that even though it takes him a while, Rincewind will make it back to U.U. in the end.  Any time I read one of the Rincewind books and start to feel bad for the poor bastard, I can reassure myself that despite every time he’s forced to risk his life or dragged along against his will on a wild and crazy adventure, eventually he will be given tenure at the University, and he will have the most boring job imaginable, mostly involving sorting his predecessor’s rock collection.  It’s all the man has ever dreamed of getting out of life.

As a final note, I have to sidetrack into something that makes me very excited: in Sourcery, Vetinari is finally given a name!

[Paul Kidby’s version of Vetinari from The Pratchett Portfolio.]

Admittedly, this is not the first time the Patrician appears; he’s been around since The Colour of Magic.  It’s just that he’s now officially been named, and with that naming comes more and more elements of his personality.  Unfortunately, this does not mean he’s now fully, entirely, um…Vetinari-like.  (Is there a good word to describe what, exactly, Vetinari is?  Let me know; I sure as hell can’t think of one. Machiavellian, sure, but there’s a lot more going on in there on top of that.)  He looks like Vetinari.  He’s got some very Vetinari-sounding traits.  He’s even got Wuffles, and let’s be honest, ‘unreasoning love of dogs’ is one of Vetinari’s easiest-to-nail-down personality traits.

But he also dramatically misjudges a situation with the wizards and the newly-arrived Sourcerer, Coin, to the point where he is turned into a lizard for the rest of the book.

On the one hand, this is clearly an object lesson in human-slash-wizard nature that Vetinari takes firmly to heart, because I can’t think of any time in any other Discworld novel where the man fucks up quite that badly.  One of Vetinari’s strongest traits is that he gets people, he understands them and what they want, and the reason he stays in power despite all efforts to the contrary is that he knows how to work that to his advantage.  Future Vetinari is a lot more cautious and delicate with both his demands and his threats, he pretty much always gets what he wants, and he is never again forcibly transmogrified into a small, angry reptile.  That’s character development, folks.

On the other hand, I think I’m so used to Vetinari as the all-knowing, puppeteering chess-master that he seems wildly out of character for the relatively short amount of time he shows up in Sourcery.  I don’t even think I’m entirely wrong in that, because, again, Pratchett is still figuring out Vetinari as a character at this point. He’s been around since The Colour of Magic, yes, but this is the first time we see him as a real, concrete person and not a mere device to drive the plot.  

Somehow, he doesn’t yet feel like the politician slash assassin that we’ll come to know and love.  Sure, we all know he’s secretly got a hidden sense of humor and a live-and-let-die approach to the whimsical absurdity that pretty much runs the Disc, but he doesn’t make mistakes.

By the time we get to Guards! Guards!, though, Pratchett will pretty much have him on lock.  Maybe we really just need to hold his brand of cynicism up next to Vimes’s in order to put them both in the right light.

But we’ve still got a few more books between then and now.  Next up, we return to the witches: it’s the Shakespearean-inspired Wyrd Sisters!

* * * * * * * * * *

Side Notes:

Rincewind does exactly one (1) magic in this book, and I am very proud of him for it.

Something I missed on my last readthrough: the Luggage apparently coughed up the Ottavo after a couple days.  Last I remembered, in The Light Fantastic, it had swallowed this most powerful grimoire on the Disc and showed no signs of ever giving it up.  On the one hand, there’s nowhere safer on the Disc to store a reality-warping spellbook than inside a murderous suitcase, but on the other, Rincewind and his awful luck don’t really need that sort of risk following them around on hundreds of tiny legs.

This book has a really solid message: a person has to decide for themselves who and what they are.  It repeats throughout a lot of the character arcs: Rincewind, Conina, Nigel, even Coin the Sourcerer.

Rincewind might not be great at magic, but he’s got the most common sense.  For example: it’s not Rincewind’s magical powers that make him able to fly the magic carpet.  It’s just that he’s the only one to notice that they’ve set it on the ground upside-down. I think this serves him better than actual magic would in most of his escapades.

Favorite Quotes:

“‘I meant,’ said Ipslore bitterly, ‘what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?’  Death thought about it.  CATS, he said eventually.  CATS ARE NICE.”

“It was quite impossible to describe.  Here is what it looked like.  It looked like a piano sounds shortly after being dropped down a well.  It tasted yellow, and it felt Paisley.  It smelled like the total eclipse of the moon.”

“It’s vital to remember who you really are.  It’s very important.  It isn’t a good idea to rely on other people or things to do it for you, you see. They always get it wrong.”

“They suffered from the terrible delusion that something could be done.  They seemed prepared to make the world the way they wanted it or die in the attempt, and the trouble with dying in the attempt was that you died in the attempt.”

“There are eight levels of wizardry on the Disc; after sixteen years Rincewind has failed to achieve even level one.  In fact it is considered opinion of some of his tutors that he is incapable even of achieving level zero, which most normal people are born at; to put it another way, it has been suggested that when Rincewind dies the average occult ability of the human race will actually go up by a fraction.”

“Rincewind rather enjoyed times like this.  They convinced him that he wasn’t mad because, if he was mad, that left no word at all to describe some of the people he met.”

“Despite rumor, Death isn’t cruel—merely terribly, terribly good at his job.”

“The truth isn’t easily pinned to a page.  In the bathtub of history the truth is harder to hold than the soap, and much more difficult to find.”

“The day had, in fact, reached that gentle point when it was too late for housebreaking and too early for burglary.”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

October and the Alternate History of Europe

I recently got into a fascinating PM thread on FFnet with Njchrispatrick about the alternate history of Europe given the events in “October”. It is, in fact, so interesting to me that I asked permission to rephrase their discussion and post it here.

While I know my history better than most, I will be the first to admit I’m hardly an expert, and explained part of why an in depth focus on history was missing from “October” is that a) Tom lives in a very insular society and does not realize this about himself and is in for a very rude awakening now that he and Lily are off to Ubik b) because I am not ambitious enough to pretend I can rewrite the history of Europe (let alone the world) given the monstrously strange events in “October”.

While fascinating, it’s also not really the point of “October”, which deals more readily with the societal issues facing the wizarding world vs. this alternate world history.

Njchrispatrick gave a very nice, very in depth, look at Europe given the events of “October” and what be going on in the outside world (even consulting a history professor). Below is rephrased, paraphrased, and reordered a bit for cleanliness and cohesiveness (as this was over several PMs).

If the war ended in early Summer 1942 (based on when Azrael seemed to have intervened) then it was shortly after a string of victories that made it look like Germany would come out in front. This was over a year before Normandy and many believed WWII would have dragged into a war of attrition.

This was also after the Soviets offered a peace treaty signing off much of Ukraine and Belarus to Germany due to Stalin being very uncertain of Soviet victory, plus Vichy France (the puppet French government) had been well-established and the German stronghold in the West was powerful.

The Nazis hadn't accepted the treaty, but since that time Russia had been pushed even further back so they'd offer even more, So, although the war ended, certain events would still be heavily in Germany's favor and the post-war treaty would be more favorably pro-German (and although the Nazis are gone, many of the legitimate grievances of the German people, including several territorial claims, would remain).

Germany would definitely keep its pre-WW2 borders including Austria and the Sudetenland. With the might of Germany still present, and now led by conservative Prussia, there would be certain demands made

Given Germany's well-entrenched hold on France, Germany would likely only release them in exchange for keeping Alsace-Lorraine, the region it had held pre-WW1 since taking it from France in 1871. Poland would be forced to cede Danzig--or at least hold a referendum vote which would undoubtedly return them to Germany--and possible the other ex-German regions like Posen. Stalin would be forced to relinquish some territory in the Baltic, both due to Russia's losing at that point in time plus Britain and America not trusting him. Perhaps this would be requested by Germany as a trade for releasing Posen to Poland. The Netherlands and Belgium would go free but, again, I expect Germany to either keep Luxemburg or at least turn it into a "protectorate". Bohemia and Moravia, which were taken from Czechoslovakia, is trickier. Apparently, to be frank, Britain and France didn't care much about the smaller nations and were of the mind that smaller countries belonged under the control of stronger ones, and Germany had a vague claim on the region due to it being part of the Holy Roman Empire, the original German Empire (in case you don't know, the HRE was the First Reich, the German Empire was the Second Reich, and the Nazis named themselves the Third Reich as a result).

If the Nazis just vanish, I don't think a West-German democracy would emerge, at least not for a while.

There was actually a substantial part of the German government which disapproved of Hitler--more his foolish tactics than the antisemitism, sadly--and in the early 40's they attempted to overthrow him.

Had the Nazis vanished, Germany would've likely ended up with a Prussian military government--better than the Nazis but still not ideal.

A Prussian-led Germany would likely become a constitutional monarchy a bit like Britain. The Junkers (Prussian aristocracy) were deeply monarchic and favored a weak democracy, if any, and Germans weren't fans of democracy after the abysmal prior attempt.

Britain would allow it in order to bring stability in hopes of Germany standing against the Soviets, as well as the Kaiser's role being distinctly anti-Nazi. The only obstacle would be Churchill, who was unwilling to accept any surrender, but it’s unclear what he’d do. He would definitely oppose the growth of any German territory. The Kaiser would have some wartime power, but otherwise be not much stronger than the British royal family. This would come with the stipulation of Germany becoming at least mostly democratic.

The Nazis would likely be blamed on the southern Catholic mindset (since Hitler was Austrian and began his power grab in Bavaria) and there would have been a massive cultural crack-down on Southern Catholic and French ideals, similar to how Jews and Communists were scapegoated for the loss in WWI.

That said, with the war only being 3 years long and with the Nazis being purged, I imagine Hitler would be viewed as a strong leader who went too far and who united Germany but was a big racist. Somewhat like a worse Churchill.

He definitely shattered the German economy but they'd be able to stabilize faster than their neighbors.

The knowledge of the Final Solution would horrify people, but without it actually happening the sympathy would be lessened, plus many pro-Nazi people would see it as Allied propaganda. Germany in the 60's and 70's would likely be a conservative-leaning but highly advanced nation with one of the strongest economies on Earth, if not THE strongest.

Without the war to expand its influence, America would be a wealthy but culturally minor power similar to Japan in real-life.

I imagine post-WWII Germany would also be tolerated because there was still a lot of Soviet fear and a dominant, militaristic Germany was still better than the Soviets in the eyes of many, especially since pre-WWII France (the only other major continental player) was weak and post-WWII France was in tatters.

The Nazis would be gone, but fascism would probably remain as a legitimate government structure, since fascism was a French-created concept that was popular in the Netherlands, Germany, France, Belgium, and the US, to name a few. So while the Nazi branch of it would be gone, it wouldn't have been near-eradicated like today. And we'd definitely see a less liberal, still Euro-dominated world in the aftermath.

The Soviet Union would be much more brittle.

The USSR's success was highly attributed to its role in WWII, and a perceived loss (as this would be, since a peace treaty in 1942 would make everyone certain that Russia was about to lose) would tank Soviet support. This would make it much harder to spread into Eastern Europe--the Baltics, Poland, and the Balkans would be German-dominated and Russia would have a hard time breaking through. Either the Soviets would collapse, become a large but stagnant state that would eventually turn non-Communist, or would declare war on the post-war Germany and likely trigger a European coalition. Italy's only real request would've been north African colonial holdings and perhaps keeping Albania. They were a much less important Axis member but also hadn't faced any serious losses.

The funny thing is, I realized, is that the post-war world in your story is actually very much like what would have happened if Germany won WW1 - German domination of the European economy, a weakened Russia, an Eastern Europe basically puppets of Germany, and the return of the German Empire. The only difference is that the European colonial empire still probably would've collapsed.

Njchrispatrick also asked about the Japanese and Italian fronts and how much/when/how Azrael intervened there.

To be honest, it’s been so long since I’ve read it that I can’t honestly remember. It would be just like him to forget Japan though. Azrael is a good, but often shocking short sighted and flawed, man. 

[sashaslytherin13]

We are a pack - Chapter 3

Remus wakes in a cell and grunts. He quickly gets up to his feet and looks around, feeling his shoulder to find his wound poorly healed but at least healed. He takes in his surroundings and notices that all the bars around him are silver. Idiotic scum, he thinks as he taps one bar with his nail. While it burned most werewolves he oddly had a tolerance for it. Fenrir chuckles from the cell across Remus.

“Pup? You alive?” he asks the smirk clear in his voice.

“Yeah, across from you. Damn Blacks” Remus replies. He snarls when the silver touches his arm as he reaches through the bars to fiddle with the lock with his nails. He is close to getting it when Fenrir chuckles again.

“Anyone else awake?”

“Nah, they are all light weights when it comes to magic. You know that” Remus gets the lock and pushes the door open before going to Fenrir’s lock and starts working on it. Fenrir stands and waits by the door.

“They are going to turn us into pets. Try and break us of any information we know. You have to be strong Pup. Got it?” Remus nods and gets Fenrir’s gate unlocked. Fenrir runs a nail over the bite mark that turned Remus on his shoulder.

“We are the only ones who know where all the packs are. The rest only know about one or two others. If I die Remus, you need to get out. No matter what. Play nice, play the obedient little pup and play stupid about the packs. You need to live pup” Fenrir sinks his teeth into the side of Remus’s neck and he shivers and arches into it. They hear footsteps coming and Fenrir shoves Remus back towards his cell. Remus locks Fenrir back into his cell and then gets into his own, locking himself back in. Remus keeps his eyes on Fenrir as the guards come and unlock his cell. Remus’s eyes change color and his fangs come out as he gets ready to fight but he sees there are too many. They wait for him to step out of his cell, wands all on him as he does so. They circle around him and he lunges at one of them but stops short as a silver collar is slapped around his throat. He snarls but gets yanked to his knees by the throat. Chains and handcuffs go on and around him as he feels the slight burn of silver. He glances at Fenrir who just smirks and nods ever so slightly. Remus allows himself to be hauled off. He memorizes how to get back to the cells as they go, keeping an eye on everything around him. The walls of the castle are smooth; clearly it took a long time to make them so even. There is silver and green everywhere around them. Two guards open the doors to a large set of chambers and Remus is once again shoved to his knees. He doesn’t make a sound as his knees bite into the stone. He looks up instantly at the pompous arse that is sitting in his chair sipping wine from a silver goblet adorned with emeralds. Can these people really not get over their stupid house colors? Remus notices the Black Family Crest ring on the man’s finger was also silver. Remus looks him over, his eyes roaming just as the foolish man’s eyes are roaming him. He stands and approaches Remus. His long black hair is tied back, his eyes pure grey and piercing. He has high cheekbones and well defined features. It’s clear he is nothing more than a palace drone as his skin is flawless and smooth. He looks to be about the same age as Remus but has clearly never seen a hard day in his life. The guards are waved off and the, boy, Remus decides, sits back down sipping his wine. Remus is tense under the silver, feeling the slight irritation everywhere it touches. The boy flicks his wand and the silver falls off Remus except for the collar. Remus flexes his muscles but stays on his knees, eyes pierced on the boy in front of him.

“The name is Sirius Black. You have been gifted to me by my mother, Walburga the Queen. I am their Heir, but my younger brother Regulus Black is also an option to them. Now you probably haven’t eaten or drank for a bit. I would like to remedy that, however I cannot feed you human flesh so please tell me what is best to fetch you” he says calmly. Remus stares at him and sniffs at the air. Not even the scent of fear, there is however a slight smell of arousal and Remus is aware he can exploit that.

“Deer, ideally bloody would work. It’s actually what we eat the most and water” Remus says plainly. He catches the young Black staring at his shoulder where his bite mark is and tilts his head. Sirius flicks his wand and the doors open and a servant enters.

“Get the mutt some bloody deer and water. Be quick about it” he snaps and the servant bows then exits quickly. Remus can hear that once the doors closed again the servant is running. Remus looks back at the boy.

“So your name is Remus Lupin, you were Fenrir Greybacks second in command, but alas that is all I know about you. Surely you had other things you could have done besides be a play thing to him?” the boy sips his wine. Remus feels his fangs slide out and his eyes flash gold.

“Ta, surely you have other things you could do than be a puppet for your mother?” Remus rebuts with a harsh smirk. Sirius flinches, it’s clear to Remus then that he wasn’t used to people being so harsh with him. Sirius flicks his wand and Remus feels the collar tighten some but he shows no signs of it bothering him except a slight tremor through his body.

“Try again Lupin. When were you turned and taken from your family?” Sirius spits harshly.

“5” Remus says, voice steady despite the lack of air in his lungs. Sirius loosens the collar again.

“Lupin is not your family name is it?” Sirius continues to ask questions with an air of curiosity but also an air of superiority. Stay alive pup Fenrir’s voice plays in Remus’s head.

“It is not. Remus is the name I was given at birth but Lupin is the name I chose” he says plainly, in a bored tone.

“You’ve been with Fenrir for how long?”

“20 years” Remus smirks and runs his tongue over his fang. Sirius’s eyes are drawn to that motion.

“How long have you been by his side for?”

“I was always his pup, but I wasn’t allowed out of my pack until 15. Been by his side ever since with no pack to call my own. Just him” Remus starts growing tired of this game. Hunger and thirst driving him mad.

“Why pup? Fenrir turns every werewolf himself, so you weren’t anything new. Why are you the one he calls pup?” Sirius leans forward in his chair. Remus laughs darkly.

“I cannot speak for Fenrir. He does what he wants when he wants. He takes what he can’t readily have and shows no shame in it. I am just another one of those things for him. I do as my alpha says, obey as he orders, listen to what he says and follow it to death” Remus says darkly, some light reflecting off his eyes as he tilts his head further. Sirius’s eyes go to Fenrir’s fresh bite mark on his neck. Before Sirius can ask another question there is a gentle knock on the door. Sirius flicks his wand and the doors open showing 4 servants carrying a whole freshly killed deer and another two carrying large pitchers of water. Remus can smell the fresh blood and his nostrils flare. He fights with himself to stay kneeling on the damn stone. Sirius orders them to put it down in front of Remus, which happens to be exactly halfway between Sirius and Remus. The water pitchers are put down beside the deer and the servants all leave, shutting the doors themselves. Remus’s mouth is watering as he stares at the food but not daring to move.

“Answer these questions honestly and I will let you eat. Is it true a werewolf was seen running away before the fight started? Did they get away? When and how did you get that set of teeth marks, because it appears very fresh but you were in cells before coming here” Sirius leans over, elbows leaning on his knees, eyes piercing in a stare at Remus, daring him to lie. Remus feels a spell trickle over him and recognizes it as a simple lie detection charm. Remus lifts his eyes from the food.

“Yes some wolves most likely got away but I cannot say for sure as I was preparing to fight. I unlocked the cells you see so Fenrir and I could speak and potentially say our goodbyes. He gave me the mark shortly before the guards showed up to bring me here. May I eat now or do you feel like playing more truth games?” Remus snaps, growing impatient. The smell of blood driving him mad but he refuses to look away from Sirius who is tapping his wand against his chin.

“Silver doesn’t burn you like it does other wolves” he remarks. Remus shrugs but keeps his attention on Sirius.

“Lots of things are different about me from other wolves. Silver doesn’t burn me, full moons are painful for me but I keep my entire mind during them. I can take most spells wizards throw with little reaction, can throw off others easily. I am stronger and faster than any wolf I have yet to meet. It can’t be explained but it is how it is” he says and watches for Black’s reaction. There, over the smell of blood, is a clear smell of arousal. Remus smirks and licks his fang again, drawing Black’s attention to his mouth. Sirius motions for him to eat and Remus does.

[dramaticmusic-and-otherthings]

OH BOY

so here comes a long ass post because I have a lot of idea but no motivation to write stuff or draw (maybe I’ll do some sketches later today) for this au that’s stuck in my head....

Phantom thieves-backgrounds/personalities Yuya Sakaki- arrested and on probation for a fake crime(almost like the P5 protagonist), lived out in the country with his mom and Dad. Staying in Yuto’s family café which makes Shun, Ruri and Yuto originally wary of him but he earns all their trust eventually, first few months every one at you-show hated him but after joining the acting club he’s only looked at mildly cautiously and ends up making a decent amount of friends, one of the founding members of the phantom troupe of thieves and co leader does a lot of the flashy stuff due to his background in gymnastics which he learned because “all the cool actors do their own stunts”

Reiji Akaba- Schools resident rich kid, most people find him intimidating, attends you-show due to a falling out with his mother so he went as an act of rebellion, at first cant seem to agree with Yuya but learns to trust his spontaneous way of thinking while Yuya learns to trust his strategies, co leader of the thieves with Yuya and the strategists of the group

Yuzu Hiragi - The troupes fem fatale using her voice to seduce enemies , a choir/ musical nerd all the way through and one of the few people that liked Yuya right off the bat, was originally distrusting of Reiji due to his mother trying to take over you-show but learns to trust him

Gongenzka- the teams muscle, thinks Yuya and yuzu are dating, likes everyone on the team and would kill for them if need be but he also wouldn’t cause he’s a noble samurai

Yuto Obsidian - after hanging out with Yuya for a while he trusts him with his life, the teams knight, kind of emo and has a massive crush on both kurosaki siblings and doesn’t know how to handle it

Serena Luna- the teams integrator/get away driver, the most aggressive member of the team, only person in the school besides Yuya who can tolerate Yuri, got suspicious of the team as the student council’s unofficial muscle went to investigate but ended up joining them and now keeps the student council off their tail

Rin- teams Navigator/tech person, a total gear head along with her best friend Yugo, Yugo was a huge thieves fan due to the Robin Hood personas they had( yes I aware of the irony of that) so she looked into them and somehow caught them in the act and later joined them after a certain palace required a lot of techie knowledge

Phantom thieves- thief outfits/personas

Yuya- entertainer/ ringmaster motif with an odd eyes looking mask mainly red with few other accenting colors thrown in, persona a famous performer like P.T Burnham with jet black skin demonic hands, dichromatic eyes that are red and green

Reiji- sleek strategist/wizard look with some robotic looking features an doom king Armageddon inspired mask , persona a philosopher like Aristotle that’s a mechanical puppet with a dark thing at the core

Yuzu- a diva outfit mixed with those classical music singers and a mask like those that are for party’s, persona a famous songstress that resembles a fallen angel 

Gongenzka- a ragged black samurai armor with some red highlights, persona a rebel samurai that fought for the people instead of for the rich, the most Japanese looking of the thieves though his persona would heavily resemble a custom made gundam

Yuto- a ragged brown cloak with some light black armor, persona Lancelot  a hollow piece of armor with a ghostly spirit in it (break sword basically) 

Serena - probably something resembling a boxer with a cat astheic through in (honestly she’s the one I’m having a tough time with)

Rin- ice witch motif, persona a giant fucking jingle bell that turns into a motorcycle no idea what it’s name will be or based off of but probably something with the Salem witch trials (super simple but giant jingle bell that turns into a motorcycle)

Palace 1: Himika Akaba( Reiji’s Mom) - palace ruler

Yuya- first to discover palace along with Reiji, the wildcard for the phantoms thieves cause I’m lazy, him and Reiji fight a lot at the start but half through they become an unstoppable team

Reiji- discovered his mom’s palace along with Yuya, wishes to help her change her ways, was the one to suggest maybe the palace would have a way to do so

Yuzu- gets dragged into thing because mama Akaba is threatening you-show school

Gongenzka- thought Yuya and yuzu were being weird so he followed them and ended up becoming a thief instead of spying on a date like he thought he was going to

_______________________________________________ Confidants gained:

Shingo- originally Yuya found him annoying but due to their shared passion of acting they now get along great, ended up running the Phan-site even though he’s pretty bad with computers

Sora- the son of a model weapons seller, gets Yuya and yuzu those sweat deals so long as they give him some candy 

Kurosaki siblings- both originally distrusting of Yuya they decide to try and get close to him as a way to protect Yuto. eventually trust Yuya but it takes a while

Tea/Anzu - the schools drama teacher who sees a lot of potential in Yuya and wants him to succeed

 Jack Atlas- Yuya’s strict as hell homeroom teacher however after Yuya learns that jack races in an underground motorcycling ring they enter a mutually beneficial deal 

[deli-counter]

@666lucifersbitch asked me to do all the musical theatre questions so here we are lads!

13: Most embarrassing story from your early teens. One time my mic was on backstage and I didn’t know and I said “fuck I gotta shit so bad” and like 900 people heard that 

1776: Favorite Founding Father? they all didn’t wash their dicks idc 

25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee: Biggest middle school achievement having to leave my middle school because of bullying and then a rumor started that I got knocked up. That was honestly legendary 

A Chorus Line: Favorite type of dance I want 1920s jitterbug swing shit!!

Aladdin: 3 wishes you want to come true 1. get into a good fucking transfer program 2. fall in love 3. love my body 

Amelie: Strangest dream you’ve ever had i hate this cause every dream story someone shares just sounds made up and stupid. I had a dream once that I had to milk myself to stay alive, figure out what that says about my subconscious 

Anastasia: Would you rather be rich in money or in love? Love baby!! I wanna drown in it daily!

Annie: Favorite thing about NYC? General energy of the city is delightful

Avenue Q: The Muppet’s or Sesame Street? Tbh I really haven’t watched either but I guess Muppets

Bandstand: How much hometown pride do you have Ehhh. I like where I live and it’s a nice area but I wouldn’t die for it by any means. I really adore Atlanta and have a lot of pride for it but I’m not really from Atlanta, I’m like 18 miles away 

Be More Chill: One thing you wish to change about yourself I just don’t wanna have trauma anymore y’all. Also I wish I could dance 

Beauty and the Beast: Small town or big city? Both for different reasons but probably moreso big city

Bonnie and Clyde: Favorite dynamic duo idk....Rosencrantz & Guildenstern 

Book of Mormon: One book I love so much that I’d go on a worldwide adventure to tell everyone about. The Curiosities which is actually a collection of short stories but it changed my life 

Bring it On: Something you’re overly competitive about Probably cooking and baking

Carrie: Favorite prank Asian Jim on The Office was classic

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Favorite candy Those raspberry gummies with the nonpareils on them ugh!! Love

Cinderella: shoe size 6.5 / 7

Come from Away: One place you’d like to travel Japan or South Korea 

Dear Evan Hansen: favorite social media platform Twitter or tumblr I guess

Dogfight: Describe your first school dance I went to prom with my senior boyfriend at the time my sophomore year and it was so bad and we ate at this awful restaurant and I felt fat the whole night and he kept trying to grind on me so we left early cause I yelled at him in front of everyone and then his mom showed up drunk and yelled at me and then I went home 

Falsettos: favorite baseball team Whatever teams are playing in the “What a Game!” Ragtime number

Fiddler on the Roof: How many siblings do you have One older sister named Bailey she is my best friend in the entire world and so beautiful and intelligent and funny and I really owe her my life!

Footloose: Could you survive a world without dance I would prefer it as I have never met a worse dancer than me truly

Frozen: One super power you wish you had Telekinesis/whatever Scarlet Witch’s powers are. Or shapeshifting would be good too

Grease: Summer lovers or high school sweethearts Idk I didn’t have either lol

Groundhog Day: One day you wish you could live in forever Day I saw OBC of Great Comet 

Hairspray: Describe your-go to hairstyle Straight and boring maybe pinned back a bit? Idk I don’t know how to do much w my hair

Hamilton: Which Schuyler sister do you relate to the most Uhh probably Angelica cause I’m outspoken to compensate for my worries and fears and grieve what I never had

Heathers: Favorite Slurpee flavor White cherry or coke, specifcally from the Target snack bar

In the Heights: What’s your heritage? Normal White European Mutt, Irish, Swiss, French, but mostly German. Also a lot of Pennsylvania Dutch/Mennonite stuff

In Transit: Favorite Subway/street performer/performance This one guy in the London tube has a drum kit and he dresses up in a suit with puppets and plays the beats that come as a demo on the drum kit and makes the puppets dance. So dumb but he is a sweet guy and I love his dancin dudes!!

Into the Woods: Least favorite camping experience Only went camping like once or twice and it was with my girl scout troop and I just remember having an anxiety attack and not knowing what it was cause I was so young and feeling miserable 

Legally Blonde: What’s your stereotype For theatre I’m typically always cast as the brunette belting bitch or unfit ingenue(that no one fully believes cause I’m not skinny) or whatever, in real life probably just a generic ~artsy girl with red lipstick who thinks she’s unique~

The Lion King: Favorite animal I really do love koalas

Mary Poppins: Have you ever flown a kite Once in a production of Mary Poppins actually lol 

Matilda: favorite teacher Jeff Gillis, my freshman year English teacher. Changed how I looked at education and now we are very good friends and hang out/go out to eat and stuff 

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812: Best party you’ve ever been to I don’t really go to parties ever? My friend’s birthday party was 1960′s themed and he rented furniture and a tikki bar and there was a strict dress code and all the food was themed and it was very on brand and very much my style 

Newsies: Have you ever been in the local paper. If so, why Yeah for scholarships or singing or something

Pippin: Have you ever been to the circus No I don’t think so? Huh

Rent: Favorite thing about life How fucking cool is nature y’all?

School of Rock: favorite instrument Handpan or accordion!

The Sound of Music: Which is more important, faith or love Uh they’re hand in hand really....this is so tough. I think Faith 

Spring Awakening: Age when life bothered you the most Currently, actually, so 20 

Waitress: favorite dessert Tbh......pie, as it is and always will be 

Wicked: biggest insecurity “Am I talented enough? Will I amount to anything? What if I’m the kid who peaked in high school?”

The Wizard of Oz: Your definition of home not to be that guy but....a theater, in all honesty