#asserting dominance one magic snake at a time

[zaceouiswriting]

Son's best friend

Character: Everret (Original Character) x male reader. Jason mentioned

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Smutish, fluffy

You knew it was wrong. He was younger, not much, but enough to make you uncomfortable deep down, even if the gap between you and your late husband was much greater. But worst of all? He was Jason's best friend.

But his hands barely ghosted over your skin, and his lips kissing your neck and shoulders broke your resolve. He didn't care about your pleas to stop it. How the shy, geeky boy you witnessed growing up could become so bold and cocky will always remain a mystery to you.

His rough hands were like magic, stopping any thought that it might be something bad or even wrong. They wandered slowly and undeterred by your words. When he cupped your neck, you knew you were lost. Bruce has never been so assertive. You always had to play the dominant role, even if he was the one stuffing your insides with cum.

By taking that move alone, you knew Everret would be a different lover than Bruce. One you hadn't had in your ten-year marriage, nor in the previous two years you'd dated Bruce. He wasn't your first: that was Victor, an exchange student, a brute who used you day in and day out, only to confess his feelings on the day he left.

Everett would now fulfill the nightly dreams that have haunted you since Victor left by giving you what you have longed for forever: a real man.

He had no problem ripping your expensive button-down shirt into pieces like it was nothing. It took your breath away. He was so skinny only a few months ago, and now he could tear clothes to pieces?

For the first time since Bruce's death, something inside you stirred. A form of arousal you haven't experienced since the two weeks you spent with Victor as a teenager.

It only got worse when you felt the leather of his jacket rub against your now bareback. Everret murmured things you wouldn't tell a living soul. It was so dirty you blushed ferociously, so utterly humiliating you couldn't even think straight.

He was a domineering force who snatched you out of your office chair only to seat himself on it like he owned it.

Never in the twelve years you've been with Bruce has he ever forced you into anything. But after just a few minutes with Everret, you were forced to drop to your knees, unzip his pants and stare at the biggest cock you've ever seen. It was monstrous, disproportionate even. He pushed it into your mouth, which was wide open in shock, slowly thrusting it down your throat. You will never forget the gasping moan of excitement and relief erupting from his chest.

He didn't care about the tears that filled your eyes as he relentlessly pushed his massive cock down your throat or you trying to get some air.

Everything about it was for him. You were just a way to get it. With his hand in your hair, he forced you to move his cock up and down, never more than halfway, as you couldn't disengage your jaw like a snake. But he was content with that as if no one had ever come near that before. You wondered whether there were others. And if so, did he use them the same as he did you?

You were never weak and sometimes even helped Bruce with his nocturnal activities. But for some reason, you let Everret do whatever he wanted with you. It felt good to let it go for once.

Faster than you thought, you lost yourself in the situation and slurped up and down that cock like the master you've become. Bruce wasn't small but couldn't keep up with this much younger stallion.

Before you knew it, his semen poured down your throat as he moaned and pushed your head down further. You didn't let any cum flow out of your mouth.

When his hand left your head, you could pull your head away from the cock to breathe. But Everett obviously had other intentions as he quickly pulled you off the floor, threw everything off your desk, and slammed you on it, not with the stomach as you thought, but on your back. A knot in your stomach tightens at the sight of his victorious grin.

He looked handsome. You've never seen him like this and never would've if he hadn't forced you to look at him.

For the first time, his fingers gently wandered over your body. When he looked up into your eyes, the glow of superiority had not disappeared but was now paired with longing and an almost loving gleam. You knew there was more to his suddenness, but neither said anything about it. When you opened your arms for him, all the toughness left him. His eyes softened. He carefully placed his hands next to your head and lowered himself onto your chest.

As you wrapped your arms around him, you could hear a soft sigh pass his lips, shattering the feeling you've always wanted to experience again. Was it all a fluke? Did he only play with you?

But when you felt his rock-hard cock, poking against your hole, you knew it wasn’t. Before you could react, he pushed his wet tip in. It made you moan like you hadn't in years, so loud you were sure if your sons were home, they would have rushed over to ensure you were safe.

Though Everret was gently caressing you, looking deep into your eyes, his south side told a different story, aggressively poking your hole open and forcing you to take it all, even as you started screaming and begging him to stop. His gentleness never faded as his gaze was fixed on you.

You now knew he was more dangerous than you could have ever imagined. No one would believe what he did to you if you told them because he could easily show someone something while doing something completely different.

Only when he was entirely inside you, and his pubic hair adorned the soft skin of your ass cheeks, did his face change again. With one hand, he pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, pulled his cock out, and rammed it back in. You felt like he was tearing you apart, but every time you showed pain or discomfort, the sinister smile on his angelic face widened. He enjoyed your pain and your pleasure equally.

He was just like Victor: a loving monster. But how long would it be before you heard the same words Victor said to you: those of love? Will he leave you too? Would you even want a coarse young man like Everret to be your partner? Could you risk it? He's impulsive and obviously doesn't care much about others, or is that just one side of a coin?

But all you cared about, at that moment, was that he was moving in and out of you so smoothly. How hard he fucked you and how gentle his toucher was. His eyes were warm and bright; one forest green and the other ocean blue.

Your fate was sealed when he suddenly lowered his head after using you on your own desk for a long time. Before you knew it, his lips, which had hovered over your own for so long, finally touched yours. When his lips locked with yours, there was nothing impulsive about it. It was chaste, but they didn't leave yours for a full minute. Electric shocks went through both of your bodies. They both knew, at that moment, with their lips still interlocked, that this wouldn't be their last time.

[Masterlist]

[unknown-lifeform]

Okay so for the director's cut I wanted to ask about that dragon fic you wrote! I remember you mentioning you had a lot of lore and I'm curious!! Any fun lore info you can share??

Oh the dragons! Yes, I do have plenty of lore about that! Congrats on unlocking a whole thing here!

So just to like refresh - Cloud is a wyrm in that fic, Genesis a wyvern, Angeal, Sephiroth and Zack dragons. Now dragons in that universe are mostly solitary, each dragon has their own territory, and they usually only share with their mate or their children, with young dragons leaving to get their own territory once they can fend for themselves. This is for a simple reason, which is that dragons are huge. They're top of the food chain massive predators and a huge resources drain.

Wyverns have this like semi-social structure where you have a sort of "alpha" wyvern and a handful of subordinate ones, each subordinate has their own territory and the alpha's territory overlaps with theirs. That being said, these are still small groups with huge territories, because again massive predators here.

So the arrangement of three dragons + one wyvern kind of all in the same space is very weird, and it's all because Sephiroth is this absolute weirdo who thinks hoarding other dragons is a normal thing to do. And this leads to some fun issues because like. Genesis, as a wyvern, at least has some idea of what it is to exist in a group. He desperately needs to assert his dominance because he doesn't like Sephiroth being the "alpha" but he can deal. Angeal and Zack (and Sephiroth)? These are not social creatures. Their idea of friendship is talking to another dragon at the border of their territory, going "good talk", and not seeing them again for the next thirty years.

Basically the dragons ended up becoming mates because... They just don't have the instincts to do anything else. If you share a territory, and they're not your child, they must be your mate. Anything else makes dragon.exe crash.

Which is also kind of how Sephiroth convinced them to join his hoard anyways. It was such a ridiculous request that Angeal and Zack just didn't know what else to say.

And then you have Cloud, and wyrms are a very different thing! Wyrms are for starters much smaller than dragons. They're very long, but in a snake-like way, and overall have a lot less bulk. They also have a very different metabolism. Dragons and wyverns are hot blooded, while wyrms are cold blooded. This means wyrm need a lot less food than dragons, and it also means while dragons and wyverns are active all year wyrms have a mandatory winter long nap.

Now wyrms live in groups, they've got a wolf pack like kind of social structure. They also hunt different pray than dragons - dragons fly, so they do best snatching animals from large open spaces, wyrms instead are good at stalking things through the forest. Because of this, some dragons don't mind wyrm packs hanging out in their territory. Which is how Cloud ended up part of this - he settled in Zack's territory, and Zack took a liking to him.

It's actually more complicated than that, to be honest. Cloud and Zack got along, and he also saw Genesis and Angeal from time to time, but for a long time he never met Sephiroth. The problem is that, like all of those terrible big lizards, Cloud keeps a hoard and growing his hoard often means stealing from humans. He was also eating people's sheep a lot. A wyrm pack can protect itself without problem if humans decide to fight back, but Cloud was on his own, and humans came for him while he was in the middle of winter hibernation. He was forced to escape, but with how cold it was he was too sluggish to hunt, and there was nowhere for him to retreat.

Sephiroth ended up finding Cloud while he was wandering around, and decided he liked him enough to keep him. He made Cloud transform into a human form to carry him around (wyrms have a certain amount of magic, but one of the limitations is that they can't use it to warm themselves) and dragged him to his cave. The becoming someone's hoard thing was pretty weird for Cloud, but he got a pack out of it, and also a lot of large warm people to sleep on during winter, so it was a pretty good deal.

Also if you want to know why Cloud was alone in the first place and not in a pack, it's because of his scales. Wyrms are usually green or brown, and that's good for blending in with the forest. Cloud has a rare mutation that makes his scales gold, and that's a problem, because it makes him far easier to spot when he hunts. Wyrms as a whole consider golden wyrms unlucky, so Cloud had to leave his birth pack and wasn't able to find another one.

As a last fun fact - dragons and wyverns look very similar, while wyrms seem kind of their own thing. In reality, wyverns are much more closely related to wyrms, and the only reason they resemble dragons is convergent evolution and the fact that dragons and wyverns developed in different parts of the world to fill the same niche.

[the-blackdale]

Mina, Max and Rafe Headcanons-

[ mina-3,max-6,rafe-8] yrs old

𝚏𝚘𝚛 @haline-of-troy ♡︎

Playdates !!! Haha, no suprise, they have playdates where they meet at either Cirenworth or Malec's apartment.

They meet nearly every weekend,because both max and mina attend mundane school and they are a legit pain in the ass because NO HOLIDAYS !!!

Rafe likes to experiment makeup on Mina , she is his makeup buddy and sits still while he puts her hair in funky ponytails or applies lipstics with weird colours on her. She loves painting her nails the most tho, and usually chooses the dark blue one so she can match with Max.

Magnus is never, NEVER supposed to summon funny demon to entertain the trio.

There was this one time he summoned a Tarantula demon and Mina grew so attached with it and would start crying whenever Magnus suggested that they let him go back to his home.

and BEWARE - Mina doesn't cry usually for small things, but by the angel, when she starts crying once, there is no way you can stop her !! You'll now have to suffer in the abyss of chaos with a 3 yr old's frustrated screams and cries, a 6 yr old on the verge of crying because 'bestie don't cry 🥺🥺, or ill cry too' a poor 8 yr old trying to stop everyone from crying and giving up in the process, and last but not the least, an 800 yr old free wheeling bisexual, who is crying even loudly to assert dominance, because screw him if he loses from a small girl with silly pigtails !!

They had to sacrifice 3 cookies to stop Mina from crying. And Max even secretly promised her that he will later try and summon the demon for her when Magnus isn't there.

Magnus gifted Mina with a special Tarantula plushie the next weekend and is now expecting that she pronounce his name right, tho the gap-toothed grin and the big hug she gave him was worth being called agnes for the rest of his life.

When left alone, Mina, Max and Rafe's games usually go like

Lego-

Mina : look, my lego tower !

Max : look, my lego house !

Mina : look my lego snake !

Max : look, Rafe !! 🌚

Mina : ohhh, Raaffee !! 🌝

Together: LEGO ATTACK !!!!

How it ends - Alec trying to seperated the three of them and getting hit by legos in the process, it's all fun and games for the trio, untill the pain really starts to settle in and magnus has to be called.

Seperated they are cute and all, but put the three of them in One room and they will cause freaking havoc, Demon spawns, the three of them, and two of them literally are !!

Scrabbles-

Rafe is the smartass of the trio because

he is the only one who can make proper words.

He is the oldest, duh ! All the older siblings like to show off to the younger ones.

How it ends -

Rafe - MINA ! Spit !!

Mina - * sghshsgauhd*

Rafe *head in hands* Max, pls ask her to spit the pieces.

Max: why :<

Rafe : Becaussssseee.. Its not Tasty !!

Max : it is 😌💅

Rafe : 🤦‍♂️🙇‍♂️🥺 pleaseee...

Mina : *spitting the pieces* ice cream ?

Rafe : Not again !!

And Jem and Tessa think its Kit who spoiled her, but im sure it's Belial's genes.

Hide & Seek-

Max is the easiest to find, you just have to look up, and he would be floating in his magic bubble ball.

He thinks they are cheating, this is legit the best trick he knows !! Even if it's a bit overused 👀, its not like the others are smart enought to notice !!

Spoiler : They are.

How it ends: Max crying at Alec's shoulder while he tries to calm him, with Mina and Rafe sharing the 'I have never met this man in my entire life' 'this is so embarrassing why am I here ?' Look.

Kit get's double pocket money for babysitting them for ONE (1) day !! And the others are more than happy to be rid of the headache.

[ttuesday]

How would the gang help you if you had a headache (today I got a bad one but I’m fine now! :D)

I'm happy to hear you're doing good again anon! Hope you don’t get anymore headaches for a while <3

Arthur

“C’mon why don’t you rest” Arthur suggests as he puts his arm around your shoulder and guides you to his tent.

He lets you lie-down on his bedroll for as long as you want. If you need some water, Arthur will happily get some for you.

Arthur closes the flaps to his tent and lets you relax. He’ll stay around camp, making sure people don’t cause too much noise in case that makes your headache worst.

Dutch

Dutch isn’t great at helping you with your headache, he’s much more concerned with trying to figure out why you have a headache.

He asks you an abundance of questions. “Have you drank enough water? Did you sleep well last night? How much coffee have you drank today? How many fingers am I holding up?”.

But Dutch will never come to the conclusion that you have a headache because of the amount of questions he’s throwing your way. Heavens no, no one could ever get a headache from Dutch’s constant talking.

John

He has no problem riding into town to get you whatever medicine you think will help your headache.

John comes back with his satchel full of different tonics and bitters. By the time he got into the doctor’s office, John completely forgot what medicine to get you so he just bought a bit of everything.

He bought potent bitters, health tonics, cocaine gum, snake oil and he even picked up some horse stimulant too.

Charles

This man is a godsend. He knows exactly what to do. He brings you into a dark room and gets you a glass of water.

He stays with you and hold you close to his chest, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“It’s alright,” he says softly “relax and soon the pain will start to fade”. He soothes you to sleep, continuing to whisper praise and encouragement to you.

Micah

Micah’s not the best at helping you get rid of headaches. His first solution is giving you a bottle of beer and telling you it’ll probably be gone after you drink that.

When you still have a headache afterwards, he tells you that you’re probably worrying about things and to just stop worrying... cause as we all know, once Micah tells you to stop worrying then all of your fears magically disappear (hope you get the sarcasm in that last part).

Finally, he pulls you close to him and tells you to relax. If the light is too bright for you, then he suggests you bury your head into the crook of his neck as a way of shielding your eyes.

Javier

You didn’t have to tell Javier you had a headache, he could tell from your mood. Worried, he comes over to you and asks if you’re alright.

This man will give you the B E S T massage. He starts with your shoulders and neck, and slowly goes up your scalp.

If he puts too much pressure on your head or if it’s too painful, just let him know and he’ll stop immediately and try a new method of getting rid of your headache.

Bill

Bill isn’t too sure what to do or how to help. Every once in a while, he gets bad headaches too so he understands your pain.

Sitting under a tree on the outskirts of camp always makes him feel better so that’s what he suggests.

If you still have a headache then he might just pat your head. He doesn’t know if that’ll make it better or worst but he’s trying to help.

Susan

Susan might seem like she’s giving out to you but she’s not. She may be a bit annoyed that you have a headache cause that means not as much work will be done but she wants to help.

Susan sees it as a mission to get rid of your headache. She’ll get you to smell some lavender, put a towel on your head, eat a variety of herbs and drink plenty of water.

If anyone comes over to bother ye while she’s helping you, Susan has no problem ordering them away. “Shoo!” she says, practically pushing them away from you.

Sean

Sean has a very simple way of dealing with your headache. Once you tell him that you had one, he replies “No ya don’t”.

According to Sean’s logic, if you deny the fact that you have a headache then it’ll just go away. Does it work? No, not really but he’s convinced it’ll eventually work.

He suggests you do things that cause headaches as a way of asserting dominance over your headache… please don’t listen to Sean’s logic if you have a headache.

Sadie

You have never seen Sadie so gentle and caring towards anyone. She’s very patient as you explain the pain to her and whereabouts it hurts on your head.

She’ll stay by you just in case the pain gets too much and you collapse. Sadie is very very cautious... for once.

Even when you start to feel better, Sadie is hesitant for you to get back to work. She’ll definitely suggest you relax for the next day or two.

[neh-sekssi]

the ride | jeonghan

Note: Three month hiatus!!! Wow!!! So I realized that I write on spontaneous bursts of energy which is why I’ve been hella quiet but during quarantine I been thinking about Jeonghan a bit too much lately and wanted to do this quick piece. Somebody said he’s the Loki of Seventeen so I kept that in mind while writing this LOL. Stay thirsty, my friends.

Pairing: jeonghan x reader (female)

Synopsis: After taking a flight to finally meet your online partner, they flake on you and never show up to dinner. Tired and frustrated, you call for a lift to go to your complex. Your driver happens to be a devilishly handsome man you can’t take your eyes off of. How many rides are you willing to take for a dick appointment? 

Word Count: 1.7k

Smut Warning: sub!reader dom!jeonghan, car sex, flirting, grinding, oral (f/m. giving/receiving), straddling, nail scratching on back, **i swear it’s consensual even though it sounds like it isn’t (i just really like doms ok)

“I don’t often get the chance to talk to someone like you.”

Your driver looks over his shoulder at you and offers a friendly smile. You meet his eyes in the rearview mirror and politely nod your head before quickly looking away. You’ve never met anyone as handsome as him, which leaves you blushing and averting your gaze to the window.

“Long night?” he asks.

“Actually, it was cut a bit short.” The driver looks at you in his rearview mirror and lifts both his eyebrows as if asking for an explanation.

“It’s no big deal. I just… well, I flew for six hours to get here but the person I was supposed to meet for dinner never showed up. I was probably catfished. Anyway, I called for a lift and now we’re here. Thanks for not bailing on me,” you laugh faintly as your voice trails off. I can’t believe I took an airplane for a dick appointment.

“What an asshole,” your driver exclaims. “You even dressed up to look good for them. I’m glad I was able to save you from your terrible night.”

You bite your bottom lip and peak at the rearview mirror. His eyes are fixated on the road but you want to lock eyes again. You lean back against the headrest and close your eyes. Is he… flirting with me? Because I was stood up? Does he feel bad for me? Or is he just being nice? You try to ignore the throbbing in your pants but it seems to get worse the more he speaks to you.

In the midst of your thoughts, your stomach grumbles to break the silence. Slightly embarrassed by the sudden noise, you say awkwardly, “Ahhh. Didn’t even get to eat dinner.” “Don’t worry. We’re almost home,” he responds.

ㅡ

“You can pull up over there,” you say as you direct him towards your complex’s parking garage. He has trouble finding parking but finds space on the fourth floor where there are barely any cars. He turns off the engine and helps you bring your luggage all the way to your doorstep.

“Oh! I think I left my phone in your car,” you gasp. “I’ll go with you,” he responds.

Back in the parking garage, you open the right back door of his car and look for your phone under the front passenger seat. You hear the left back door open opposite of you and look up. He’s also bent down behind the driver’s seat and his face is barely a foot apart from yours. You become entranced in his gaze, his deep brown eyes.

“Found it,” he smirks as he pulls your phone from behind him. “O-oh,” you say as your snap back to reality. “Thank you.” He passes over your phone and his warm hand brushes against yours. You notice that there’s a nameless number on the screen.

“Call me if you ever need saving. Someone like you shouldn’t have to wait for anyone.” You see his eyes fixate on your lips.

Am I really gonna do this? He’s hot. And I didn’t get any dick tonight.

You know what? Fuck it. 

Your lips quickly find his as if two magnets had been waiting to meet. He holds the nape of your neck with his right hand and pulls you completely into the car while closing the door behind him with his left. He swirls his tongue in your mouth as if beckoning the throbbing in your pants to give in. He lies you down and climbs on top of you. You’ve been craving this moment the entire flight. His lips still working like magic, you feel him grind against you as he reaches behind you to pull your door shut. A knot forms in your stomach as he thrusts into your hips deeper, his hard-on teasing you against your pants.

His hand finds its way to the inside of your pants. “Have you been wet the entire ride? God, I knew it.” Without hesitation, two fingers slide into your folds and you let out the loudest moan. You’ve been holding it in the entire night and the pleasure felt like a breath of fresh air. He’s quick to shut you back up with deep, passionate kisses. He won’t let you rest for a moment.

You’ve become so wet that his fingers slip in and out with ease. He rubs your clit with his thumb, sending a shock down your spine. He moves quicker and quicker, curling his fingers each time to hit your sweet spot. Your eyes roll back and you see the windows starting to fog up. As you moan through your intertwined tongues, he pulls back and says, “You’ve been wanting me ever since I picked you up, huh? Making my car wet?” He takes his fingers out from your pants and puts them in your mouth. You swirl your tongue and suck on them to show him exactly what you want. You feel him grow harder and reach your hand to stroke it but he stops you before you can even move.

“Let me show you why you flew all the way here.”

In one swift movement, he pulls your pants down and takes a good look at you. His lips trace your inner thighs, melting you with every kiss. He kisses your folds, then glides his tongue from the bottom of your entrance to the top of your clit. He sucks on it and moans, sending vibrations throughout your body. You arch your back as his tongue slides into you. Tasting every inch of you, you can tell by his rough oral that he wants you badly. Holding your thigh for support, he inserts two fingers and sucks your clit at the same time. He moves his fingers in and out as he flicks tip of his tongue up and down your slit.

“Fuck me,” you plead.

He smirks at your desperation, the same smirk he gave you when he “found” your phone. His eyes have a snakish look in them as if whispering I’ve got you right where I want you. “You hungry?” he asks sarcastically.

“Fucking starving. Please.”

You sit up on your knees as he rests himself on the seat. Your hands couldn’t unzip his pants any faster. He finally reveals his hard-on and you’re mesmerized at his length. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. Suddenly, you feel his warm hand on the nape of your neck again.

“Say ‘ahhh.’”

He pulls your head down towards his crotch, groaning when he enters your mouth. His hand moves from the nape of your neck to the back of your head. He controls your rhythm by pulling your hair up and down and moans deeply with each stroke. You desperately want to return the favor, making sure he hits the back of your throat each time, licking him all around like sweet ice cream. You moan in response and he tugs your hair a bit harder.

He pulls you up from the seat and positions you on his lap, facing him.

“Ride me.”

At his command, you stroke him as you position yourself right at his tip. You’re too careful and take longer than he wants; with both hands on either side of your waist, he pulls you down onto his length. A warm rush of euphoria spreads throughout your body, both of you moaning in unison. You feel the force of his hands guiding your hips, directing you, controlling you. Each thrust feels deeper, wetter. You put your hands on his shoulders for balance but he places them behind his neck, locking your fingers with yourself. The way he asserts authority over any small movement makes you weak. Even when you’re on top of him, you feel completely dominated.

You close your eyes and throw your head back, mouth agape with moans escaping your lips with each bounce. His heavy breathing turns you on even more. You open your eyes and see him working your waist, his brows furrowed, lips bitten, hair stuck to the sweat of his forehead. The mere sight of him is hot.

Your vision instantly darkens as the parking garage lights dim from the inactivity on the floor. Losing your sight makes you focus on feeling his every inch inside of you. He holds you stationary in the air, then thrusts into you with his own movement. You gasp in surprise at the sensation, encouraging him to go harder. He’s able to slide in and out so much quicker and you start to feel dizzy. With your left hand bracing his shoulder, your right hand grabs a fistful of his hair and you tug his head back. He immediately stops and gives in to you. Finally.

You start sucking on his exposed neck and he lets out moans of relief. Simultaneously, you roll your hips into his and ride him. You try to go deeper with each grind as it hits better and better on your G-spot. His hands snake their way up your back and you feel his nails dig into your skin. You arch your back as a reflex and he pulls you into his chest. He bites at your neck more roughly than before. The pain sends you higher and makes you thrust roughly into him. Seeing his dark figure at your own disposal arouses you so much.

After a final thrust, you feel him throb inside of you, filling you up. He lets out the loudest moan of the night, sending you to your climax. You continue to ride him and he moans gently from his sensitivity.

“Fuck. I’m cumming!” you cry. You release yourself and ecstasy overtakes you as both of you flow from inside. You melt on top of him and he chuckles at your limp body.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he says warmly, the same tone he had when he was driving, completely different to the one he had mere seconds ago.

“I never got your name,” you say as you sit down onto the seat. He opens the car door and the lights flicker back on.

He hands you your phone, and again you wonder how and when the hell he took it. “Say my name next time,” he winks.

You look at the new contact name matching the phone number from earlier and smile.

Jeonghan

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

Do you have any HCs for Merula?

So. So many. Long post ahead. Very long post. With many thoughts. Many, many thoughts about the best witch at Hogwarts. Proceed with caution. 

Let’s start with her childhood. Her early childhood. Her parents were probably akin to the Malfoys. They taught her bad life lessons, but I do not believe they were abusive. I think they genuinely loved her. I also notice how callous she is about Voldemort - being one of the few characters to actually speak his name, at all of eleven years old. My belief is that Merula’s parents were involved less because they cared about blood supremacy and more because they were attracted to the power and freedoms they thought they could have as Death Eaters. To practice dark magic, to be feared and respected by the community. 

Merula seems to have absorbed all of that in full. She seems to view the world as a division between the strong and the weak, not the good and the evil. Law of the jungle, kill or be killed. The Death Eater ideology. Merula may spout Pure-blood bigotry, but I guarantee you she doesn’t actually give a damn about blood status. It’s just an easy short-cut to dominate people in social situations, which is something she clings to. Because she’s weak, and she knows it. But she’s been taught to respect power and to embody it. Merula is trying to fake it until she makes it. I also think she doesn’t have any respect for Voldemort at all, thinks of him as a failure - he was supposedly killed by a baby, after all. 

But Merula is also highly insecure about her own talents, even if she always defaults to overselling them. After her parents went to Azkaban, she must have been spiraling. Looking for something or someone to latch onto. A purpose. Her aunt is supposedly watching her but that clearly isn’t the case. She cuts her own hair. She dresses herself - half her clothes don’t fit and she wears more make-up than some of the seventh years. Merula may not have known it, but I think all she wanted was to be loved, and she wasn’t get that from her aunt, or anyone. So she defaulted. Defaulted to trying to gain power. And oh look, what’s that in the Daily Prophet? This Jacob character, and his quest to open the Cursed Vaults? This was her opportunity. Her chance to prove herself. Unlike Jacob and Voldemort, those pathetic failures, Merula could make a name for herself. She will be the best witch at Hogwarts. If she has to cram that down everyone’s throats, she will be. 

There was only one problem. Jacob had a sibling. From jump, they had the advantage over her, not that she would ever admit it. Merula must have calculated that Jacob’s Sibling would know more about the Vaults than her. For all she knew, Jacob left them a road map. Not only that, on her first day of trying to assert herself against Rowan, Jacob’s Sibling interrupted and was not scared of her, at all. They had already won over Rowan, and they did not hesitate to tell Snape what Merula was doing. I believe from the moment, Merula feared them, envied them, and though she would never admit it to herself, admired them. It only got worse when they escaped the Devil’s Snare, and stood up to her while she was bullying the one person who her intimidation scheme had actually worked on, Ben Copper. 

Lots of people hate Merula for the Devil’s Snare scheme, but what did we expect? She was raised by two Death Eaters, and she’s seen them kill Aurors before. Of course her Plan A was to kill Jacob’s Sibling. Of course she wanted to ruin Jacob’s reputation. She’s trying to emulate her mother, I bet you anything. I bet you anything that she’s wearing her mother’s makeup. Perhaps even her old clothes. That being said, I also think Merula has very conflicted feelings about her mother. Because her parents failed - they were taken to Azkaban. I’m willing to bet that Merula hasn’t spoken to them since. But she wants to. She keeps trying to write them letters, and crosses everything out. Maybe she’s waiting for them to send a letter first. Hoping that they will, even if she won’t admit it. Feeling hurt that they haven’t. There’s always visitation, but who’s going to take her on a trip to Azkaban? Are children even allowed to visit there? Even if they are, she has no one to take her. Speaking of that, let’s talk about Dementors. 

What does Merula hear when Dementors are nearby? Actually, we could talk about all of her magical signatures. My head-canon for her wand is Holly and Dragon Heartstring. Yes, I do think she has the same wand wood as Harry James Potter. It tends to lean to people who are “impetuous” and prone to anger. I think Merula’s Boggart would likely be something to do with Jacob’s Sibling, at least in the early days. They were the one standing in the way of her goals. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they were involved with her Erised vision as well, perhaps something to do with them and her parents. Post Portrait Vault, we know what Merula’s Boggart would be. And we know what she would hear when Dementors are close. But prior to the Portrait Vault? She definitely hears the arrest of her parents, and the trial...she was, after all, present for it. Come to think of it...what if she was there as a witness? Not willingly, of course. Too young to understand what was going on, bullied into giving testimony about that auror that her parents killed...Merula’s Worst Memory, perhaps? Well, at least until the Portrait Vault, anyway. 

Tulip Karasu. Oh my, Tulip Karasu. She, like Merula’s parents, is one of a few people who would ultimately challenge her worldview. Merula loves her parents and misses them, despite their “failure” embodying everything that she tries to reject. Along comes Tulip - someone brilliant. A loner like Merula. They’re two shady little oddballs and they gravitate to each other. The admiration is mutual, and unlike with Jacob’s Sibling, Merula doesn’t feel as much reluctance to enjoy Tulip’s company. But she still doesn’t let all her walls down. She won’t admit Tulip is her friend, even if they’ve become best mates. I think both of these two characters changed each other, a bit. That a little of Tulip rubbed off on Merula, and vice-versa. When the betrayal happened, like so many other traumatic events in Merula’s life, it set her back. She regressed. Bonds make a person weak. People, associates, are only good for one thing - using them to further your own ends. This is what Merula learned. This is what Tulip unfortunately taught her. That being said, I don’t think it meant nothing to her when Tulip become friends with MC. Followed by Barnaby. This is where her envy of Jacob’s Sibling would probably reach a boiling point. Where she (almost justifiably) might feel as though they were taking everything from her. However horrible Merula might have behaved, no one wants to hear they are terrible in all of the ways their rival is great. 

While all of this is happening, I think Merula continued to try and flex. To prove herself. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried out for Quidditch every year to honor her parents, and either didn’t make the team outright, or was disqualified for trying to sabotage other participants. All the while, she continues to show-boat and flex. I bet her favorite Quidditch team is the Falmouth Falcons, who are famous for being violent and playing dirty. (Look them up, they’re exactly her kind of people.) Speaking of that, ever wonder what her relationship was like with Felix? Or Snape? We know that Felix defends her and calls MC a bully if you trick him for the Common Room break-in during Year 2. Anyone with half a brain knows that’s not what’s happening, and I’m sure Felix does too. He knows what Merula gets up to. But he lies and defends her, however much she might drive him crazy, because she is still his charge. Because Slytherins take care of their own. I’d imagine the same thing is true with Snape. He cannot stand Merula, but he will still try to look out for her or clean up her messes when he can, because she’s one of the snakes. Remember when he said “I genuinely wish you weren’t lying.” He doesn’t want to punish Merula. Not like he does MC. Merula is clearly the obnoxious little sister of Slytherin house. 

Along comes Year 4. Along comes Patricia Rakepick. Strap in everybody, it’s time to get to heart of Merula’s problems. Mainly her mommy issues. Because Rakepick is, or at least appears to be, everything that Merula wishes she could be. This is someone she can emulate, like she did her mother. Someone she can idolize without any of that confused anger that she has toward MC - who, at the same time, she is growing fond of, whether she admits it to herself or not. Rakepick essentially represents everything that her parents used to be, and could have been, had they not “failed.” Merula herself draws the comparison. This isn’t lost on Rakepick, and she makes use of it. There’s no way that Rakepick’s comparison to the Curse-Breaking apprentice team of Year 5 being like a “family” wasn’t done for Merula’s benefit. Merula hears that, and she feels accepted. She feels loved. Like she’s part of a family again. It’s dysfunctional and weird, but that’s all she knows. She doesn’t just want to emulate Rakepick and learn to be powerful like her...she wants to earn Rakepick’s approval, to make her proud. To “win” the love of a mother figure. I believe Tulip’s suspicion, Tulip’s ability to see what was really going on, unfortunately only pushed Merula further away from her and closer to her new “family.” 

Speaking of pushing people away, it’s about time we talked about Ismelda Murk. About the friendship that was formed out of mutual convenience, rather than actual chemistry. By the end of Year 3, these two loners don’t have anyone else. But they don’t click the way that Merula did with Tulip. Ismelda doesn’t have the talents or the passion that Merula admired in Tulip, and Ismelda has far less patience for Merula’s show-boating. But they were all each other had, at least at first. Then Merula completely dropped Ismelda in favor of her new “family” because she was feeling emotional fulfillment and didn’t “need” Ismelda anymore. Most of this would be unconscious, but that would be the motivator. Considering that Ismelda started hanging out with Beatrice in Year 6, and Merula is rarely involved, I think it’s safe to say the two of them never recovered from that distance. 

Meanwhile, Merula is having the time of her life with her new family. With her annoying but mostly harmless older brother Bill. With her long-time rival turned sort-of friend now acting as a sibling figure. A sibling figure...who she has romantic tension with. (Hey, I did say that it was dysfunctional. That’s almost certainly on purpose.) And then there’s her amazing, badass new mom. Everything is shaping up for Merula. She’s going to be the Best Witch at Hogwarts, the greatest Curse-Breaker the world has ever known. All she has to do is emulate. Try to be just like the amazing Patricia Rakepick. Our poor child truly believed all this. Then the Portrait Vault happened. Look, we need to face that however fun the dynamic might have been, however “cool” mentor-Rakepick was...it was never a truly good thing. It wouldn’t be, even if she wasn’t a villain. Rakepick was never cut out to look after children, beyond grooming them into being lawless explorers like her. And honestly? She was completely open about that. But that’s just what Merula wanted. It’s what she thought she needed. She wouldn’t gravitate to someone like Flitwick, or McGonagall. No, she’d want someone like her parents. Someone powerful, who doesn’t play by the rules. Someone cool. Like Rakepick, or Jacob. (We’ll get to that.) 

So imagine how much it completely shattered her world when Rakepick did what she did. The Cruciatus Curse is one thing. It’s unspeakable. But I guarantee you the real damage was done with Rakepick’s words. “Merula thinks she’s my favorite? Is she anyone’s?” I promise you those words cut through Merula like a knife - because there was a lot of truth to them. Every time that MC or one of their peers told Merula how horrible she was. Every time someone chose MC over her. All of that insecurity upended with just a few simple words. But it’s so much worse than that. This is worse than Tulip’s betrayal, not just on the scale, not just because it happened a second time...but because this is a mother figure, something Merula desperately wanted and needed. For the second time in her life, she’s losing that...and being made to feel responsible for it. After all, shouldn’t she have “known better” than to let her walls down? Didn’t she know better than to show weakness? Vulnerability? Rakepick is reinforcing all the wrong lessons with this betrayal. She is setting Merula back countless steps. Anyone would regress after this and Merula was in such a fragile state of development. She was making baby steps to being a better person. But then all of good that came out of this weird family unit was washed away. Merula had the rug pulled out from  under her once again, and there’s nothing she hates and fears more than being in that position. 

Why do you think she becomes so desperate to have revenge when all is said and done? What else does Merula have at this point? What else can she latch onto, what else can she default to? Just like when she lost her parents, and was spiraling...she needed something. A purpose. So she wouldn’t go mad. So she wouldn’t have to properly confront all of his trauma. Make no mistake, Merula is not in touch with how she’s really feeling right now. She’s displacing it, putting it in a box and sticking with what she knows. Anger. Domination. Power. These are the only ways that she knows how to navigate the world. If you can’t do that, you fail, and it’s your own fault. That’s what she believes, and after what Rakepick put her through, why wouldn’t she? Merula doesn’t want revenge. She feels like she needs it. Rakepick “defeated” her, and that sits in her heart, tied to the betrayal. She thinks if she can kill Rakepick, she can put all this behind her. But of course she can’t, of course that’s not how it works. Even if Merula was powerful enough to finish off Rakepick, and even if she wasn’t investigated for it, it wouldn’t make her happy. She would just feel empty. And I think she knows that too, on some level. But she can’t admit it to herself. She’s regressed, and the lack of self-awareness is almost heart-breaking. She’s latched onto Jacob in the same way that she did Rakepick. Rejected any affection with Jacob’s Sibling as well, probably because she associates them with Rakepick, emotionally. That positive bond was part of the whole “apprentice” team, that Rakepick founded. What’s more, she’s learned her lesson about being vulnerable with people. What if the next person to betray Merula, is MC? After what happened, how does she know that they won’t be? Better not to risk it. 

You might notice two phrases that I’ve been using a lot. “She would never admit it to herself.” and “She defaulted to-” Because that’s kind of Merula’s whole deal. She has a pathological aversion to looking vulnerable, which she’s unable to reconcile with the reality that we can’t always avoid that. She’s in denial. She also associates cruelty with strength. She associates empathy and kindness with being “weak.” This is why she tries so hard to be a bully. She’s trying to be dominant. It’s what she defaults to, as I’ve said. But she’s only human. Let’s be honest, she’s not cold-hearted or emotionless. She isn’t sadistic. She ‘s a wounded child, who has shown time and again that she has feelings - she definitely felt something for characters like Tulip, Rakepick, and MC. But to admit that is to admit vulnerability. To apologize for anything she’s done, however sorry she might actually be, to admit she’s wrong -about anything - is to admit vulnerability Merula just can’t do that. Everything she’s ever learned...from her parents. From Tulip. From Rakepick. 

[commander-hanji-zoe]

Seven is the magic number

As an FYI, this whole piece is a train wreck. I was having a little fantasy about what it would be like to be in a polyamorous relationship with Erwin, Levi, Mike, Hange, Nanaba & Moblit - look in my head I’m greedy & wild lol. This is just one chapter, but I’m tempted if people enjoy it to make it a collection of works, have a proper chapter for the first part & then a chapter for the first time with each & a final chapter which is a 7 person orgy so we’ll see. 

The reader in this is a cis-gendered female reader, but I do plan on writing more stuff that isn’t reader based as well as a lot of reader based material that is gender neutral so it’s as inclusive as possible. Also as an fyi I usually write Hanj/Hange as Gender fluid, but in this fic I have written them as female. 

Pairing: Reader x Erwin x Levi x Mike x Hanji x Moblit x Nanaba 

Word Count: 6,008  Warnings: Smut/unprotected sex 

Summary: The reader is invited by Erwin to join in with a polyamorous relationship, there’s several dates without sexual contact but when y/n confirms she is happy with the set-up, they are visited by each member of the relationship individually for their first time together and to get better acquainted. At the end of the night (and after much smut) there’s a more fluffy bit where they all fall peacefully asleep together - which is a cuddle pile I’d love to be in. 

The offer had been unexpected but not at all unpleasant. The time you’d spent with the scouts suggested there was something going on behind closed doors between some of the older veterans. But when Commander Erwin called you into his office and explained the situation you were left more than a little red faced. 

They’d all noticed you and talked about adding another to their relationship for some time, they were just waiting for the right person and it turned out that was you. Beforehand you hadn’t really ever thought about being in a polyamorous relationship, you weren’t even really sure how you felt about them or how they worked. But now Erwin was inviting you to be a part of his family alongside Levi, Hanji, Nanaba, Mike and Moblit. 

You accepted, surprising yourself with how quickly you agreed to be a part of it. The agreement was that you would have several trial evenings with them, each of a different nature and at the end Erwin would ask whether you wanted to join. 

The first date had a hard rule about no sexual contact, Erwin was adamant about that. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with all of them and that you got a feeling of what it would be like to be a part of their group. 

The third date was when you cuddled with them and kissed for the first time.

The fourth was much of the same but you got to watch as the others slept together, Erwin meanwhile holding you in his arms and stroking your hair.

It was only after these first four dates that the Commander called you back to his office to discuss the next stages. It was strange in the sense that it felt overly formal, like going for a job interview, but Erwin had to be sure you were a right fit for them and that you too were comfortable. 

“Well y/n what do you think?”

You gulped and nodded, yes, you wanted to be a part of it. 

The Commander didn’t look up from his papers and left you shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot wondering if you were excused or if the commander would ask more questions. When he finally looked up, the candle on his desk reflected in his eye, the corners of his lips turned upwards to form the smallest smile. 

“Very well,” he reached out his arms for you and pulled you into him so you slid onto his lap. 

You went in to kiss him, rocking your hips as you did so but Erwin put his hands on your shoulders to stop you, “Ahhh ah patience my dear, patience.”

You all but let out a soft whine, you’d been so close to him and why on earth would he pull you into his lap like that if he wanted nothing? Perhaps it was as simple as him teasing you or to assert his dominance as the head of the group.

You let out a small gasp as he cupped your chin in his large hands, his fingers just pulling your lower lip down a little. His piercing blue eyes just watched you as if monitoring your expression as he snaked his other hand up your neck and into your hair. It might have been one of the most intense moments of your life and knowing that it most certainly wasn’t going to go anywhere, at least in that moment, only served to heighten your curiosity. 

You could feel him growing hard underneath you so why didn’t he want to take you now, but then that was part of the game, like he said patience. How much sweeter would this be when it came to having your first evening with them all. 

“Good things come to those who wait isn’t that right my precious?” He stroked your cheek with such delicate grace, his eyes staring at you in earnest. 

You nodded and immediately shuddered when the hand that had been in your hair moved down and gripped your thigh, he squeezed tightly for a moment and then removed all touch from you.

“Y/N you are dismissed. We will see you here tomorrow night.”

You gulped and nodded weakly, “Yes Sir,” you knew your cheeks were blushing a furious shade of scarlet but you couldn’t have cared less. 

As you left the Commander’s office you found yourself unable to breathe and your legs were shaking so much you felt like a newborn foal walking for the first time. It was only when Erwin’s door closed behind you that you were able to breathe and leant back against the wall, your knees still feeling weak.

“Y/N are you alright?”

You jumped in response, you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside. You looked up to Rico looking at you. 

You nodded, “Yes i’m fine.”

“You look a little flustered.”

Oh no, you could feel the colour darkening once again, “Oh it was just some paperwork that got me all confused, the commander was helping me with it,” you replied rather pathetically.

Rico smiled and nodded, “Right, see you around.”

As you walked away you let out a long sigh of relief as you head back to your duties feeling thoroughly frustrated but more excited for your first official date as part of this wonderful group. Erwin had explained to you what would happen and your mind raced in equal parts nerves and excitement as you thought about it. You would get a chance to be intimate with each member of the group and then would spend the night with Erwin. 

First you were visited by Mike. He was rough but loving and in his arms there was a brief moment with him where you felt like you finally understood what true love felt like. His hands were so large he was able to grab handfuls of you and he left no part of your body untouched or ignored. When he first entered the room, he took his time undressing you, taking you apart piece by piece, just a small taste of how soon he would make you come undone. While some of the others were happy with you already naked on the couch, Mike wanted to underdress you and worship you. He continually praised you and stroked your hair, when you made him feel good he wanted you to know just how good. Although the kissing and sex itself was rough, he never made you feel like you had to do anything. When he pushed you back onto the couch and dove between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs and kissing them, swirling his tongue on your smooth skin and sucking. Leaving a trail of perfect little marks into your inner thigh. When he started to work his tongue on you, kissing you and licking, these were the moments you thought he must have been sent from the gods to make you feel that good.

 He constantly checked you were okay, especially when he undressed and you saw the size of his cock for the first time. The audible gulp that came from you made him concerned for a moment, but those kisses that made you melt, the way his hands were in your hair as you went to suck his cock, you knew Mike was the gentlest of giants. He fucked you against the wall, your legs wrapped round his waist and hands in his hair. Mike was loud during sex but it wasn’t just grunts and groans, no, he was full of sweet nothings and delicious promises of tomorrow. Mike continually made sure you were comfortable and he refused to cum until he had made you reach climax first. You came with him inside you, having moved from the wall to the couch, his fingers working between your legs tipping you over the edge. 

Your nails scratched down his back as he fucked you into the couch and with a loud grunt came inside you, his body shuddering repeatedly as he said your name. His forehead, sweaty and hair matted pressed against your own. “Damnit, I wish I had you all to myself tonight.” Those were the last words he said to you before he left the room. 

Levi later would complain that you’d been too loud, Erwin had a smirk on his face, he knew the reason behind the agitation. It wasn’t that he hated hearing you fuck, quite the opposite, it drove him crazy till he was rutting against Erwin’s leg, desperate for release. Jealous that Mike was getting you first before he, jealous that Mike was getting anything before him. 

Levi was next, he left you shaking and white-knuckled. He wasn’t as strict as you’d imagined him to be or quite as dominant. Yes, he took control, they practically all did but it was more than that, he wanted you to explore him as much as you liked and feel every second. With his sharp tongue he was incredible when he went down on you, doing things in a way no one had ever done to you, his tongue slipped inside you, you could hear him moan at your taste and then he went lower flicking his tongue over your anus. You gave a surprised cry but when his tongue dipped in you couldn’t help but hold onto his hair with a tighter grip. He wore such a satisfied smile when he looked up from between your legs, in truth it was more of a smirk.

It surprised you how long it took for him to get undressed or show any need for his own pleasure, the stamina and control was impressive. When he climbed back up your body he was excruciatingly slow, leaving a trail of kisses from between your legs up over your stomach and over the dip between your breasts and flicking his tongue over your nipples. He sucked at your neck hard enough you knew he’d have left a love bite.  When he instructed you to ride his face, you were nervous but his hands guided you and honestly being commanded by the Captain in that strict tone made you start to believe it was possible to orgasm from words alone. 

Sex with Levi didn’t last too long with him, he was so pent up from before that you’d guessed he wouldn’t last too long. But it was good. Really, really good. Every minute he would turn you into a new position to see what felt good for you. His kisses were full of teeth and his hands in your hair. He was the only one to ask you if you minded anal, it wasn’t something you’d tried before but with him you were willing to give it a go. He hesitated before settling on saving it for another day but not without leaving you first with a parting gift. He inserted a silver butt plug, fox tail attached inside you before he left the room leaving you gasping and wishing all your holes were filled. 

Hanje and Moblit shared the bed with you at the same time, that was part of their deal, they rarely left one another’s side both inside and outside of the bedroom. They were incredibly cute together, Hanji was as excitable as she was in the research room, curious to explore every part of you, Moblit would do anything she told him to. Hanji marvelled over the butt plug Levi had given you, she was full of praises and telling you how cute you looked, occasionally tugging on the fox tail so you could feel the pull between your cheeks. She then push it in a little making you moan, Moblit all the while gently stroking himself, lazy and slow strokes up and down his cock. Hanji nuzzled into your breasts and for a moment you wished you could just curl up with her and fall asleep. She kissed you slowly, sucking your lower lip and sliding her tongue in your mouth, on top of you, you raised your hips to meet hers, the two of you slowly moved as one.

You didn’t mean to do it but when she grabbed your breasts with one hand for leverage as the other went between your legs giving you feather strokes and looked at you with such a commanding stare you called her daddy… and god did that feel good. After you came, Hanji rolled over to allow Moblit to be with you, he was sweet, full of small tender kisses, checking you were okay, slowly and lazily making love to you as Hanji stroked both of your heads, taking it in turns to kiss you then him. She continued to praise you both telling you what a great job you were both doing making Moblit blush furiously. He came on your belly, there was no need to clean up however as he bent down and licked his own mess from your body, Hanji joined him so the two of them licked you clean, kissing one another as they went. 

Going down on Hanji was one of the easiest decisions you made, though she was controlling she was incredibly sweet and all you wanted was to make her feel as good as she had made you feel. Moblit helped to guide you and show you exactly where she liked it. Once you were between her legs, Moblit sat on you and massaged your back and shoulders with oil as you brought Hanji to orgasm. 

Nanaba made the sweetest love, you spent most of your time alone with her just talking and kissing. She took it slow and wanted to really get to know you before she got acquainted with your body. Her kisses tasted like honey, she took control but made you feel safe throughout. She tied your wrists up with soft scarfs and loose knots, it was as if she were inside your mind, she knew exactly how to touch you, where, how much pressure and when to move on. Her fingers moved so gently against you but with such precision your toes were curling. She fucked you with a glass dildo as she went down on you, ensuring you felt the best you possibly could. The way she worked was slow and teasing for a bit and then she’d go much faster before slowing again, making your back arch and chest rise and fall heavily. Nanaba wanted nothing in return, telling you that getting to bring you such pleasure was all the joy she needed for now. Instead she masturbated in front of you, getting herself off with the same toy that had been inside you a moment earlier, you watched the colour in her cheeks, the way her small breasts bounced when she threw her head back. 

You wished you’d grown up with her, she was like a big sister in many ways, so knowledgeable and reassuring. But also god did she have the softest thighs and cutest breasts along with a neck begging to be kissed. When Nanaba’s time came to leave you felt sad, you could have stayed with her all even sharing secrets and curled up under the covers, you wanted to read her palms and do tarot readings with her before cuddling naked and seeing what happened. 

For you’d been so close to telling her you loved her when you came. 

You were surprised when Mike came back for more, “I wanna try something different with you, will you let me if I look after you?” He asked. You had no idea what he had planned but there was no decision to be made, you already knew. You trusted Mike and would do anything he asked of you, you knew he would look after you no matter what. He opened a door to what you assumed was a cupboard but instead there was a small room, what appeared to be a sex swing already assembled from the ceiling hung in the middle. “Well?” He asked with a wicked grin. Your knees trembled as you begun to walk towards the room, letting out a small yelp when Mike picked you up and carried you across. Afterwards when reflecting on your time in that swing, you couldn’t quite remember everything that happened, in fact, you could barely remember the details, what you could recall however was the feeling and the emotions that were invoked by being so submissive and bending to his will but people so completely loved and filled at the same time. 

Levi also came back from second, he was pleased to see that the butt plug was still inside you and tugged the tail like Hanji had before giving you a spank on your behind. When you moaned he grabbed your jaw, his face inches from yours, “Did you like that sweetheart?” Now you were sure he’d wanted to use the word brat instead of sweetheart, but considering this was your first time with them you guessed he wanted to keep it a little less intimidating. 

Despite what he’d said earlier about leaving it to a later date, he asked if it would be okay to try anal. As nervous as you were you knew Levi would take great care to ensure you were well prepared so you agreed. You had been right, there was a lot of massaging and him using several fingers, gently scissoring and occasionally using his tongue on you. When he fucked your ass he was slow at first, kissing you as he went, but soon he got lost in the rhythm and pleasure of it as he increased his speed and let out more animalistic moans. It hurt, you couldn’t deny it, but it also felt good. People often said there could be a fine line between pain and pleasure didn’t they. When Levi finished and pulled out he was rather red faced. He pressed a kiss to one of your cheeks, “I’m sorry I think I hurt you,” his voice sounded so despondent like he was truly disappointed in himself, “It won’t happen again,” he said. You grabbed hold of his face and kissed him hungrily, “I don’t give a shit Levi, you felt so good, you feel so good, I…” God you wanted to cum again, you were writhing on the bed and rutting against his thigh. 

Levi pulled at the collar, “Come ride my thigh,” he instructed. 

Wet as you were you were easily able to slide up and down his thick thighs. They were far larger than you’d expected and so well toned. 

“I want you to ride yourself to orgasm,” he instructed. Your lips were trembling, you really weren’t sure you’d be able to but what you knew is that you’d give it everything you had to try and do it for him. 

A while later you lay comfortably numb, perfectly exhausted and in a dream-like haze. Everything in the past few hours had blurred into one, all you knew for certain was that you were safe and that the pleasure you’d experienced was nothing like anyone had shown you before.

But now as you lay on the couch a shiver ran up your spine, without the warmth of hands on you or bodies pressed against you, with no kisses, it didn’t take long for the night air to make your nipples to become erect and goosebumps to appear on your arms. 

You shuddered and huddled into yourself, bringing your knees up into your chest. You knew you should get up to clean yourself up, but Captain Levi had instructed you not to move and besides you had no doubt that the others would take delight in cleaning you and taking care of you.

You heard the door open but closed your eyes so that whoever entered, it would be a surprise.

A soft hand cupped your chin, “Y/N look at you, so tired out, you’ve done so well.”

You recognised Erwin’s voice immediately and opened your eyes, “Did I make you proud?” You asked feebly. 

Erwin hummed in response, “Yes you were a very good girl weren’t you?”

You nodded, “Yes, anything for you.”

“How many times did they make you cum?” He asked as he stroked your hair. 

“I….” you tried to think about it but your mind was a blank, could you really not recall how many times you’d reached orgasm? “7 I think….”

Erwin pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Hmm good, but I don’t doubt you could handle more?” He asked as he pulled away. You nodded limply. 

You expected him to take you there and add to the mixture of cum that was trickling between your thighs, but you were surprised when he bent down and picked you up in a fireman’s lift and threw you over his shoulder. 

Your cheeks burnt with humiliation but you knew Erwin wasn’t capable of hurting you, even though you felt embarrassed, the anticipation of what he’d do to you caused tremendous excitement. 

He placed you down in the bathroom, “Toilet,” he stated matter of factly. 

“W’what?” you stammered.

“Use it,” he commanded.

You blushed furiously as Commander Erwin stood over you, arms folded as you looked back at the toilet and then back at him. He couldn’t be serious right?

“You must be so full of cum now, practically full, look how it’s dripping down your thighs. You really are a mess. Do you expect me to fuck you when you’re so full of the ecstasy of others? Go and sit down.”

This time you didn’t argue, there was something absurdly hot about this situation you mused as you walked to the toilet and sat down. Thought you would never admit that to Erwin or anyone else for that matter. Were they all treated this way when they joined? From what you heard it started with Erwin and Mike dating back when they were cadets, two friends fooling around with one another then slowly realising they were in love. 

Regardless of how you felt about the situation, your cheeks still burnt with shame and you closed your eyes trying to think of something else to overcome the embarrassment of having to pee in front of him. You cursed under your breath, truth be told you had needed the bathroom for a while but now you were being instructed to go your body was refusing. 

“Look at me,” Erwin said.

Horror as your eyes opened and you stared at him, it felt as if you had stage fright. You were pretty desperate to pee but with him watching you, you really weren’t sure you’d be able to go.

“Come on, you can do it for daddy can’t you? Or do I have to turn on a tap?” 

“N-noo..” you stammered. Maybe it was the fear of letting him down, but hearing the disappointment in his voice was all you needed to finally release. You let out a soft moan as you did so and as the water splashed in the basin you saw Erwin smile ever so slightly. Was he getting off on this? Every part of you wanted to say, “Pervert,” out loud, but you didn’t know him well enough, it was the kind of think Levi would say without a second thought but you would have to earn your place. 

When you’d finished peeing and went to wipe, Erwin interjected and insisted on cleaning you himself. He inspected the tissue,  cum and a little bit of blood that must have been from when Levi fucked your ass. 

You turned away horrified wishing the ground would swallow you up to put an end to the inspection. 

“Poor thing,” Erwin said as he kissed you. 

“Come,” you followed him without a sound and entered his bedroom. There was a steel bathtub, steam rose from the hot water within, it looked incredibly inviting. 

“This is for you,” he said.

You looked back at him wondering if it was a trick, “Go on,” he said, “I want you to relax and freshen up, no point having such a dirty girl in my clean bed.”

You nodded, and he helped you into the bathtub. As you sunk in and the water rose to your breasts you let out a contended hum. 

“Tell me y/n, what if I were to say that I would scrub you all over, wash and brush your hair and treat you like the darling you are, but first you have to put on a little show for me?”

You gulped, “My favourite pet is the other side of the door, what if I were to invite him in for a little fun, what would you say?”

You nodded keenly, “Yes,” the thought of putting on a show for Erwin made you wet instantly.

“Yes what?”

“Daddy…”

Levi stepped into the room, he was still naked, though he’d had a chance to clean up.

He walked in silently and climbed into the bathtub opposite you, he pulled you gently into his arms and cradled you. His kisses were completely different to before, they were soft and tender without a trace of desperation, rather, they seemed tinted with love.

His hands gently scratched at your back as you wound your hands through his hair and entwined them. He peppered your cheek and collarbone with kisses, “You’re beautiful.”

You heard the unfastening of a belt and turned to see Erwin sat on a chair, legs spread as he pulled his cock from his trousers and slowly started to rub himself. His face was the picture of innocence and bliss. The blonde could have been an angel and in that moment you saw something you hadn’t seen in him before, desire and passion outside of work, you saw human emotion and feeling.

“Now,” Erwin said as he stared at the two of you. What you’d expected him to say was to fuck, you’d expected his tone to be harsh and vulgar, what you weren’t expecting was what happened.

“Make love like no one else is here, make love to her Levi like there’s no one else in the world.”

And Levi did just that, the water sloshed over the tub onto the wooden floor as he pulled you onto his lap and slowly lowered you onto his hard member. You moved slowly, Levi’s hands on your hips helping you to raised and lower yourself onto him, his own body craning to meet yours, kissing into your neck, your shoulders, collarbones, muttering words of love and adoration. The two of you remained embraced and kissing tenderly as you slowly built up to orgasm.

As he pulled out of you you looked down and watched small trails of cum spill into the water. Pearls of ivory, a vision of ecstasy. He kissed you once more and slowly you got off his lap and sat back down at the opposite side of the bed, admiring the heat in Levi’s cheeks.

Erwin helped Levi to climb out of the bath, wrapping him in a fluffy white robe. 

“Good boy Levi, you may leave us now. Return with the others in an hour.”

Levi bowed, “Yes Sir,” and left the two of you alone once again. 

Erwin then turned his attention to you, he had a fluffy towel ready for you and when you stepped out of the bathtub he took care to dry every part of you from your arms down to your feet. He took the towel away and returned with body lotion which he applied liberally to your body and limbs, it smelt of vanilla and oats. He lay you on his bed with such care, the sheets were clean and made of fresh cotton. The room smelt of linen and fresh spring flowers. He blew out most of the candles so there was only one lit by the side of his bed. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked as he climbed into bed beside you.

You bit your lip in reply and nodded, “Yes Commander.” The bed was massive, larger than any bed you’d ever seen, you guessed Erwin had to get it especially made for him. You had been wondering until that moment whether the 6 of them ever spent the night together and if so how that would work, now you knew. 

“This kinda set up doesn’t work for everyone, but it works for us and if you think it could work for you too then you are most welcome.”

You nodded eagerly, no one had ever made you feel so loved and welcomed, you no longer dreaded waking up in the morning if you had this to look forward to. You realised that you could be happy. 

As Erwin slid into you your eyes screwed shut, his length barely fit inside you. He literally took your breath away and for a moment you forgot how to breathe as your eyes remained closed you tried to adjust yourself a little to accommodate for his large member. 

“Y/N,” Erwin’s voice was soft as he spoke to you now.

Your eyes opened, you knew they were glistening now with tears.

“Breathe for me,” Erwin said, he stroked your cheek.

You bit your lip and nodded, after everything you’d already been through that evening you could do this, you managed to take Mike for goodness sake and he was the largest, so why was this so difficult? Perhaps you were tired or it was the anticipation of pleasing the Commander which made you less able to relax in the same way you had around the others.

You tried to follow Erwin’s instructions and breathe for him, looking into his eyes for reassuring. He moved slowly into you at first so you could feel every centimetre, he continued to check you were okay, his words worked as you felt yourself relax. The less tense you became the easier it was for him to slide himself into you, though you had the feeling there was more of him to come. His hands were more gently with you than you thought they would be, fondling your breasts and gently pinching your nipples, when his hand went between your legs he stroked so gently you could barely feel it but when it did it was like small sparks of electricity that went up your spine. 

Your legs wrapped round his waist, arms clinging tightly to him as he increased his speed and pounded you into the mattress. 

Erwin moved you, bent your limbs to access a deeper part of you. He pounded deeper into you, you were sure you’d pass out. While Mike had the biggest dick, it was the way Erwin fucked you that was making you lose your mind.

When he came deep inside you it was with a low guttural moan, his forehead pressed against yours, his chest heavy and breathing fast. When he pulled out for a moment you thought that was it the sex may have been great but he wasn’t going to make you cum. He kissed down your body and then dove into you kissing and licking your thighs, his tongue probing into you, unperturbed by his own semen or it’s salty taste. 

His grip on your thighs was like a vice, holding you in place and stopping you from squirming as he continued to pleasure you and bring you to a delicious orgasm. Though you felt at this point you may die from overstimulation, every part of your body was shaking, between your legs now almost numb from contact from others.

When he kissed you you could taste a salty sweet mixture of your fluids mixed together, his teeth nibbled at your lips and he whispered such soft praises, you were glad to know you’d done a good job on your first night. 

For a while it was just the two of you cuddling in bed, Erwin stroked your hair and slowly you begun to talk about everyday mundane things. The kind of things people in a relationship talk about when no one is listening, he made you laugh, you told small, silly stories from childhood and he seemed to appreciate how relaxed you were with him. 

You cuddled into Erwin’s chest for a while before you felt him stir underneath you, “The others will be here soon.”

“Do you all sleep together in this bed every night?”

You were sure you heard Erwin sigh a little, “No, we try to at least once a week but sometimes it isn’t easy. There are nights where we are all on our own, there are nights I spend just with Levi or just with Mike, nights where Mike and Nanaba are together and Hanji, Moblit and I stay in and have dinner together. It just works…there’s no schedule or timetable we just do what feels right at the time.”

You gave a contended sigh and nuzzled further into his chest, “That sounds so wonderful, like a Utopia of sorts.”

“It is, it works for us and I hope soon enough you will see how it works for you too,” he kissed your forehead. 

You heard the door open, Levi ran in like an excited child first, followed by Hanji and Moblit. Nanaba and Mike entered last and shut the door behind them. 

You lay on Erwin’s bed surrounded by the others, entwined and slow sleepy kisses passing from one to another. You got to sleep by Erwin’s side, behind you Mike spooned you, Nanaba slept at the bottom of the bed curled up on her side like a puppy. Levi clung to Erwin as if his life depended on it and maybe in a strange way it did.

Though this type of relationship wasn’t for everyone, you could already see how it worked and understood the deep and inner connection of each and every one. They were happy alone and more than capable of looking after themselves but maybe they wanted more and together they found this peaceful and trusting life. A life which you were more than happy to be a part of.

You woke up several times during the night, not accustomed to being so close to others when sleeping. You heard Mike’s gentle snore, his nose was buried in your hair and neck, it tickled but soft kind of tickles that sent warm trickles down your spine rather than shivers. Erwin looked like an angel when he was asleep, it was the only time you recalled seeing him appear peaceful.

Levi’s legs twitched as if he were a puppy having excitable dreams.

Hanji muttered in her sleep, something about titans and wanting to be their friends. Moblit was a fidgeter even in his sleep, Hanji you deduced, must be a very heavy sleeper not to be woken up by him constantly moving behind her. Nanaba didn’t snore but made small cute noises when she breathed out, almost like melodic hums. 

You could do this forever and never want for anything. The titans, the fear you knew you all felt even if you seldom chose to share it, it was worth it for this.

“Hey y/n, okay you?” You heard Mike ask as he shifted and lifted his head.

“Hmmmm,” you replied sleepily. You turned over so you were facing Mike, your heads on the same pillow. 

Mike stroked your hair, “I’m fine, just thinking how lucky I am.”

In the moonlight you could just make out his smile, “You’ll always be safe with us,” he said and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. When you parted you nuzzled into him, his large arms wrapping round you and pulling you close so you could hear his heartbeat. Behind you Erwin turned and now spooned you.

Nanaba too woke up, she crawled up the bed so she was laying half on top of you and half on top of Mike, “Can I join?” She asked innocently.

Oh yes, this was one of the best decisions you’d ever made.

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 2: Year 1- September

Ao3 link

September 1st couldn’t come quick enough for Anakin Skywalker. Since his dalliance in Diagon Alley, it seemed summer dragged on even more than it had before. Every night, his mother paid off their rent to the cruel and gruff Watto, who Anakin couldn’t stand with every fiber of his being. He made Shmi walk around in tight dresses and tolerate crude patrons all in the name of business. 

She was able to get the morning off to escort him to King’s Cross, where he would meet the train that was to take him to Hogwarts.

“Platform… 9 and ¾… That can’t be right!” He read aloud as they walked through the station. Shmi dragged a cart with his few belongings trailing behind. While she was always coy (despite Anakin’s constant questions) about her time at Hogwarts and her feelings about the wizarding world, a fond smile still crossed her lips as he said this.

Sure enough, it had not been a misprint and one shocking stroll through a brick wall later, they were faced with a ruby-red train that had “Hogwarts Express” emblazoned on the front and side. 

Countless families bustled around them excitedly, but time seemed to pass slowly for Anakin as he stood in awe. There were only fellow witches and wizards on this platform and all had the same purpose as he did. His heart raced and suddenly his hand felt sweaty in his mother’s grasp.

She looked down at him, confusion knitting her eyebrows together. “What’s wrong, Ani?”

As he looked up at her kind face, he realized for the first time, they would be apart. For as much as his curiosity got the better of him, that thought still pained him a great deal. Something about this parting hurt more. Knowing there was a darkness he did not understand out there and being so inexperienced only gave him more hesitance. 

“I don’t want to leave you.” He said.

She sighed, “I know I was against you going away to school before, but that was selfish of me. Our paths will cross again very soon and I’ll look forward to hearing about all of your adventures.”

He had so many questions- many of which she likely would not answer for reasons she would not give. It was simultaneously frustrating and terrifying, but he had to respect her caution, because rarely did his mother do anything without a just reason. 

“I will become the strongest wizard that ever was.” He vowed, “And I’ll get us out of this stupid town so you never have to work for a creep like Watto ever again.”

Her eyes were very sad at that, even though Anakin was trying to tell her that he would save them- to comfort her. She pulled him into a tight hug and kissed the top of his head.

“Worry not about being powerful. Worry about being kind. That is all I can ask from you.”

He didn’t see why he couldn’t do both? After all, he could kindly give them a better life one day. She deserved that and he knew it. He would make her proud and grow strong and successful so that Shmi Skywalker never had to worry or want for anything ever again.

“I won’t disappoint you, mum.” He said.

“You never could, Ani.”

With one last wistful look and a slight nudge forward, Anakin finally stepped onto the train and forced himself not to look back.

Unfortunately, this caused him to run square into another passenger and send their luggage tumbling to the ground. Immediately panic-stricken and apologetic, he lept into action to assist the unsuspecting victim.

“I am so sorry!” He scrambled. “I was saying goodbye to my mum and-”

He drifted off from there, because when he met her warm brown eyes, the entire world seemed to go blank. There was no magic, reality, or goodbye’s so long as he was in her presence. His tongue felt fat in his mouth and unable to form anymore words. That sweaty feeling returned to his hands for a whole different reason.

“Um…” He said dumbly.

“It’s alright. It didn’t hurt or anything.” The girl said with ease and quickly collected her things. Her hair was tied back in a complicated series of braids that looped in all directions and even contained streamers of gold in their chestnut waves. He didn’t usually notice that kind of thing, but he was inexplicably drawn to everything about her. 

She wore a red tie with the female equivalent of the uniforms he’d purchased in Diagon Alley. She didn’t look nearly as awkward in them as he felt he had. Then again, hers were neatly pressed and likely not secondhand. The crest on her robe had a golden lion and the word “Gryffindor” etched into the bottom. 

“Er, nice lion.” He blurted.

She furrowed her brow as they both rose to their feet. “Pardon?”

He felt his eyes go round. He hadn’t exactly planned on saying that out loud. Perhaps it held some significance that was commonly known? Now, she would surely think of him as a fool.

“Gryffindor.” He said instead.

Realization bloomed across her cheeks and Anakin would do just about anything to see her smile like that again. “Oh! Yes. Is that what you’re hoping for?”

Not knowing what else to say, he just nodded.

“Cool, well, maybe I’ll see you later then.”

“If I’m actually looking forward.” He muttered.

He didn’t make it two steps before a funny looking creature wearing a green tie stopped him with a long brown finger to the chest. Like Tera Sinube, he had a snout, but it wasn’t nearly as long. He had the color and physique of a grasshopper with the wings of a bat. His eyes were narrowed at Anakin with suspicion.

“Hey, Shrimp! You talkin’ to my lady?” He asked in a gravelly voice.

His teeth were small and displaced while gray in color. 

Anakin, never one to back down from a fight, steadied his feet and prepared for the worst.

“And who are you supposed to be?” He asked. “Because there’s no way she’s with you .” 

He shoved the long finger away from him and the creature’s cronies “ooh’ed” and “ah’ed” as though Anakin was really in for it. In reality, they didn’t know who they were toying with. 

“Watch yourself, kid. I can smell the muggle right off ya.” His smile broadened. “And ya see… My family doesn’t take kindly to muggles.”

“Yeah, well muggles have noses too. I doubt they like you much either.” Anakin challenged and the rest of the cart hushed to listen in on the budding friction.

He hadn’t even stepped three feet onto the train and was already getting into a fight. Well, in Anakin’s experience, it was better to assert yourself earlier rather than later. Bullies like this chump were everywhere and he didn’t care for any of them.

He whipped out his wand and shoved it against Anakin’s chin. He willed himself not to tremble. Yet again, the wand that sat in his sweatshirt pocket was useless if he wasn’t sure how to use it. Up close, he could see the patch on this older kid’s robe said “Slytherin”, which seemed fitting for a snake.

“I’ll turn you inside out you little-”

“-What’s going on here?” A firm and calm voice asked. 

Instantly, the crowd parted to make way for the familiar face of the prefect that Anakin had met in Diagon Alley. His hair was still neatly combed as it had been before, but this time he wore a blue variant of the uniform Anakin had come to know. His patch said “Ravenclaw” and had a black bird in the midst of it. His uniform was pressed and extra crisp in comparison to everyone else’s, which was saying something as everyone likely had their parents iron their clothes before coming. 

More distinctly, was the prefect pin that was attached to his lapel.

Everyone seemed to preoccupy themselves to avoid trouble. Of course, except Anakin’s opponent. His eyes still burned through Anakin with venom.

“Sebulba.” The Prefect’s voice grew stern. “I don’t think I need to remind you how severe attacking a student out of duelling club? Let alone in a strike against an unknowing first year . Hm?”

There was another beat where Sebulba seemed to seriously contemplate this, before dropping his hand altogether.

“That’s what I thought.” He said. “Carry on and do try to keep your wand to yourself.”

Some other passengers giggled at that, which earned them a glare from the properly admonished Sebulba. Anakin was relieved, but not foolish enough to believe this was actually over. 

Still, the Prefect nodded his head in a motion to follow him and led him through the rest of the cabin to a compartment in the very back. 

“Sorry about that.” He muttered.

“When I said to reach out, I hadn’t realized it would be so soon.” The older boy chastised. 

Anakin grimaced. “You’ve saved me twice and I haven’t even caught your name.”

“All in a day’s work for a prefect.” The older boy smiled in good nature. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

He reached out his hand formally and Anakin silently wondered if this kid really was an old man incarnate of some kind. “I’m Anakin Skywalker.”

“Well, Anakin, I feel the best way to keep you out of trouble for the remainder of the train-ride is to keep a close watch on you. Don’t need you flying out the window or anything of the sort.”

Anakin, while more interested in meeting and sitting with the girl he’d met earlier, conceded that it might be better to lay low for the rest of the ride. He wanted to at least make it to Hogwarts before getting kicked out.

Obi-Wan slid the door aside and revealed two other older students that seemed to be in his year. The one who sat on the right was a tan-skinned boy with a square jaw and a dark crew cut. Like the girl Anakin met earlier, he wore a red tie and that Gryffindor crest on his robe. He was handsome and fit and Anakin briefly wondered if there were sports offered at Hogwarts. If so, this guy was definitely involved. Unlike Obi-Wan, there was a natural physical dominance that emanated off of him, even as he ate a sandwich.

Across from him, a blonde girl sat with long legs crossed and a book balanced on her lap. She was objectively pretty, but intimidating with fierce blue eyes that instantly shot to inspect Anakin as though he were a bomb that needed to be diffused. Her lips were pursed in natural contemplation, which made her already defined cheekbones sharper. Her uniform matched Obi-Wan’s exactly, even down the prefect button. She, of course, wore a skirt and knee socks. 

“Anakin, this is Cody Fett and Satine Kryze.” Obi-Wan nodded. “Satine is my fellow co-prefect of House Ravenclaw and Cody is captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

“You can just say we’re friends, you know.” Cody drawled and grinned at Anakin. He still had food in his mouth, but was friendly all the same. “Nice to meet you, kid.”

Satine crossed her arms, her gaze growing all the more scrutinizing. “And just what stray have you brought in this time, Ben?”

Anakin wrinkled his nose in confusion and looked up to Obi-Wan, whose features made it clear that this was a conversation they’d had before. Many times. Cody seemed prepared to return full focus to his sandwich.

“Merely performing my duties as prefect in preventing a scuffle, actually .” He said. “Is that alright with her esteemed prefect?”

She narrowed her eyes at Anakin. “A scuffle? The train hasn’t even left yet.”

“It was Sebulba.” Obi-Wan said and the two stared at each other in quiet understanding.

“Sebulba is a prat.” She muttered. “Right, well, come on in. We should be leaving soon.”

So, Anakin elected to sit next to Cody. He would have sat next to Obi-Wan, considering he was the one who invited him in the first place, but for some reason Obi-Wan opted to sit beside Satine despite the obvious tension there. 

“I thought you said your name was Obi-Wan.” Anakin said, unsure if he’d heard him incorrectly before.

“It is Obi-Wan.” He said while shooting Satine a pointed stare accompanied with a nudge of her foot for emphasis. “One botched roll-call our first year and Satine can’t seem to let it go.”

She shrugged. “Try as you might to convince everyone, your name is not poetry.”

“It practically rhymes.”

“Not all poetry rhymes.” She rolled her eyes.

“Please excuse them.” Cody sighed and winked at Anakin. “They’ve got regularly scheduled arguments to adhere to.”

“Oh yeah?” Anakin chuckled as he watched the two go back and forth.

“Throws off their entire day if they don’t. Bet ya wish you were in detention, huh?”

Anakin snorted. “I’m just glad to be here at all.”

“I can see that.” He nodded. “I’ve got a little brother in your year. You should meet him. He likes troublemakers.”    

***

The rest of the journey to Hogwarts was surprisingly uneventful, save for the excitement that the candy trolley brought from Anakin. Obi-Wan purchased chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes for the whole compartment, which was a relief given Anakin did not have his own funds to acquire such distinct treats.

“Aw, bloody hell.” Cody cursed.

“What is it?” Satine asked. 

“Another Helga Hufflepuff.” He groaned. “I’ve already got three of them.”

“Maybe you’ve been eating too many chocolate frogs then.” Obi-Wan smirked.

Lifting up the hem of his shirt to reveal a sculpted tan abdomen, he cocked his head. “I think I can spare a few more, actually.”

“Yeah,” Satine agreed, which earned her a cross look from Obi-Wan,  “I’m just being honest!”

He rolled his eyes, “Well, would a Rowena Ravenclaw shut you up about it?”

“I think it might.” Cody smiled and nudged Anakin. “Who’d you get?”

Anakin squinted at his own card “Some little troll named Yoda?”

He obviously said something wrong, because while Cody burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, Satine simply shot Obi-Wan a confused look, and Obi-Wan avoided her stare by awkwardly coughing over his chocolate frog.

“Um- Anakin, that’s the Headmaster of the school.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And I do not recommend calling him a little troll if and when you meet him.”

Anakin felt his face go red. “These are real people?”

“Yes, that’s why they’re moving.” He said gently.

“Muggle cards don’t move.” Satine said. “And they are typically fictional characters unless they’re sports trading cards.”

“Muggle cards don’t move?” Cody sneered. “Why bother, then?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Some people have an attention span that lasts longer than three seconds, Cody, and don’t need pretty things to distract us.”

“Oh you’ve got a lot of nerve, considering what you’re always distracted by. Or shall I say who y-”

That resulted in Satine’s cauldron cake bouncing off his head, which he caught in his mouth afterwards. It broke the tension of whatever he was going to say and they all shared a laugh. 

“So, who are the people on your cards?” Anakin asked, not wanting the moment to pass and embarrass himself later.

“I got Godric Gryffindor.” Satine showed him. “Gryffindor house, much like its founder, picks only those who are daring, bold, and brave first and foremost. He was most in favor of allowing muggle borns into Hogwarts.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Unlike Salazar Slytherin, who we don’t have a card of, but he founded Slytherin house and praised those that were cunning and ambitious. And of course, purely bred.”

Anakin frowned. There was that tendency to bring up blood-lineage. Did such things truly matter in this world? Was that why his mother had left?

“The two severred ties over that.” Satine said sagely. “Slytherin house doesn’t accept solely purebloods at this point, but they rarely pick those of just muggle birthright.”

“Rowena Ravenclaw, who represents our house,” Obi-Wan gestured to himself and Satine. “She chose only those that demonstrated wisdom, wit and intellect.”

“Not to mention creativity.” Satine added. 

“We get it, you’re nerds.” Cody said and flipped his card to Anakin. “Helga Hufflepuff is the founder of Hufflepuff house at Hogwarts. She’s already vanished for a while, but she’s a stout woman all dressed in gold.”

“More importantly,” Satine said sternly, “Helga Hufflepuff was the only founder not to have specific requirements for her students. She accepted anyone, which meant everyone in her house was typically characterized as loyal and true.”

“Hufflepuffs are good to have on your side.” Obi-Wan said. “A good friend of ours, Bail Organa, is a Hufflepuff.”

“Unless that team is Quidditch.” Cody whistled. “Even Kenobi can outplay everyone on their team.”

“I’ve gotten better!” He retorted.

Satine leaned forward. “For reference, Quidditch is the biggest sport in the wizarding world. Ben plays Keeper position for Ravenclaw’s team and Cody is a chaser..”

“You don’t play?” Anakin asked.

“God, no.” She scoffed. “Not only is it totally barbaric, but I’m really not much into flying. It gives you a headache just watching. The matches go on forever.”

“You can’t hate it that much.” Obi-Wan said. “You’re at every match.”

“One of these days, you’ll be glad I’m there to scrape your remains off the field.” She straightened. “Besides, it wouldn’t be very becoming for me not to support my house if I stand a shot of being Head Girl one day.”

Anakin already knew when he heard flying was involved that Quidditch would be the sport for him. He simply leaned back and sighed.

“I think I’d like to be a Gryffindor.” He said.

Cody smacked him on the back. “Right on ya, mate. I hope you are!”

“You hope?”

“You don’t get to choose.” Satine frowned. “It’s about who you are.”

Anakin didn’t see how anybody could know who he was. He didn’t know them and they didn’t know him. The only person who understood him was far away and likely heading back to an empty flat, worried about the unknown. His heart sagged at that.

***

Both Obi-Wan and Satine got up early as per their mandate as prefects to help gather the first years and show them where to go. This meant, sadly, that Anakin would not be allowed to enter with either them or the pretty Gryffindor girl from earlier. He wondered what year she was in. She didn’t look that much older than him.

Instead, he and the other 11 year olds were shepherded into several small rowboats, which seemed silly at first. Were they seriously going to force them to row to shore? 

Of course not. Much to Anakin’s excitement, the boats seemed to be enchanted to move on their own accord. Not only that, but what they were moving towards was more magnificent than anything he’d seen in his entire life.

Hogwarts was a vision at night.

 Granted, he’d never seen it in daylight, but basked in the moonlight that reflected off the black expanse of water that surrounded it, the castle looked straight out of a painting. Perched atop a series of rocks and eclipsing anything in the far distance with warm orange lighting accentuating its impressive and domineering architecture, to say it was anything less than awe-inducing would have been a lie.

Anakin must have been obvious in his shock, because a hand slowly closed his mouth. He looked over to who the hand belonged to and almost asked Cody why he was situated with the first years. Before he could say something so utterly stupid, he realized this was the younger brother Cody had referenced earlier.

Aside from having the exact same face as his older brother, this boy did look younger and smaller in stature without the layers of muscle that Cody had built from growth and working out. His hair was nearly shaved to the skin and was bleached so that it appeared to glow in the moonlight. 

“Better close your mouth, mate.” He said, “Lots of blowflies by the water.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” He said in awe.

“None of us have.” Cody’s brother smiled. “Not in person, anyway.”

“Not anywhere for me.” Anakin thought.

“I’m Rex. I’ve got lots of brothers that have passed through Hogwarts.” 

“I’m Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin turned to him, “I’ve met your brother, Cody.”

Rex rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Everyone’s met Cody. He’s the one people remember most.”

“Because of how good he is at Quidditch?”

“Is that what he said?” He laughed, “I’m better than him and I haven’t even hit a growth spurt yet. I’m looking to be on the squad next year.”

“Why not this year?” Anakin asked.

“Oh, first years can’t join up.”

Admittedly, the concept of getting to fly being delayed another second, let alone another year, deflated something within Anakin. Although, it was tough to be too upset when they were drawing closer and closer to the place that would make it all possible for him.

***

Anakin was pleased to be rounded into Obi-Wan’s orientation group for guiding them through the castle. He didn’t walk beside him, knowing how much he loathed the kiss-up’s in school. He doubted it was much different in the wizarding community. Rex stayed close and explained the details of what they were likely to go through that evening, right down to how a hat was about to decide their fates. 

“That’s insane!” Anakin hissed.

“If you think that’s mad, you’ve got a lot coming.” He chuckled. “We haven’t started classes yet.”

“If you are quite finished chatting, Mr. Skywalker and Mr. Fett, I’d like to get you all into the sorting ceremony.” Obi-Wan said stiffly.

Anakin winced apologetically, but any guilt was washed away when they’d walked into the dining hall. Despite being totally inside, a clear night sky with twinkling stars hung above them as well as an array of floating candles. Used to the mechanics of the muggle world, Anakin found himself trying to find the strings that held the candles up, but reminded himself just where he was.

He looked over to Rex, who despite his claims to understand all of this already, still looked impressed.

“I’d like to learn charms like that one day.” He said quietly.

“That’s why we’re here.” Anakin smiled and they gathered around the front of the room. Each of the four long tables that ran vertical were full of students all donned in pointy black hats. Obi-Wan and Satine sat together at the Ravenclaw table and while he honestly looked to Gryffindor’s table to try and spot Cody, he was instantly distracted by the girl from earlier. He could not name what it was about her that transfixed him, but he knew he had to find out.

Up front and sitting facing all of them, were several adults that already had plates full of food and wine glasses in front of them. Qui-Gon Jinn was amongst the row of adults that sat behind the podium. Central to them, there was a stand significantly larger for the Headmaster of the school.

The one who, Anakin would try terribly hard not to refer to as a little green troll.

Even if that was the best way to define Headmaster Yoda. 

Despite his wrinkles and seemingly frail physique, there were years of wisdom and knowledge there. He sat on what could best be described as a floating high chair and laid calm eyes across the crowd of students. On the other side of him, was an elderly human man, who wore ornate dark robes and had slicked back white hair. His face was pale and his eyes were dark, but there was a small smile at his lips.

Clearly, he’d caught Anakin staring, because he nodded at him in good nature and seemed to size him up before casting his direction elsewhere.

“That’s Professor Palpatine, head of Slytherin house.” Rex said. “Nicest head of house Slytherin has had in ages. Usually, they’re all prats according to my brothers.”

Anakin remembered the altercation he’d had earlier with Sebulba and shook his head. “I’d say he still has some work to do.”

Surprisingly, Headmaster Yoda did not stand to greet them. Instead, a dark-skinned bald man rose to his feet and held out a large stretch of parchment. His jaw was strong and his eyes were deadly serious and practically black. He struck Anakin as more of a warrior than a professor judging by his domineering confidence and simple robes.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, first years. I’m Professor Mace Windu.  As you can gather, before you join your classmates, you must be sorted into your proper house. When I call your name, please come up and I will place the sorting hat on your head. First up, Rex Fett.”

“I guess they’re not going in alphabetical order.” He smiled at Anakin before going up. 

Despite being the youngest of a string of Gryffindors, Rex walked up to the front with the ease and confidence of someone who wasn’t shouldering the responsibility of a family legacy. Anakin wondered if it mattered to him which house he was placed in. Would they be upset if he was placed elsewhere? Everyone seemed very proud of their houses and to represent them. He probably should have asked before such a decision was coming to fruition. 

The hat hardly had to touch his head before it bellowed out, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Anakin flinched slightly from the sudden outburst. He hadn’t realized the hat was literally going to say where they belonged. He’d question the legitimacy of the process if he wasn’t utterly captivated.

Gryffindor house burst into a fit of applause and they all greeted and patted Rex on the shoulder as he sat down. He sat beside his brothers and wore a bright and knowing smile on his face as though he knew where he’d belonged all along. 

Anakin wished he had that level of direction.

“Tol Skorr.” Professor Windu’s deep voice boomed over the excited children, which they all took as their cue to quiet down.

Not long after, “SLYTHERIN!” was called triumphantly.

Anakin continued to deeply ponder if he cared about which house he would end up with. He’d already met some interesting people from most of the houses save for Hufflepuff. Satine made it sound like it was a very accepting house, which he wouldn’t mind given how little he knew about all of this.

Despite having Sebulba in it, he considered himself to be ambitious. He wanted to become the most powerful wizard that ever lived. That had to pertain to ambition, correct? Of course, when he looked over at those kids, they were the quietest table and looked very intense. 

He truly liked the idea of being in Ravenclaw. He’d already found himself looking up to Obi-Wan for guidance. He figured if there was anyone to follow in order to prevent himself from getting kicked out of this school, it was him. Satine seemed as though she would no doubt be a package deal if he was to hang around Obi-Wan.

Of course, why would he want to spend time with a first year?

Gryffindor had its obvious appeal and also sounded incredibly in tune with who he was. He was brave! And bold. Someone who wasn’t bold didn’t get kicked out of several schools for a multitude of ‘bold’ moves. 

He’d been so lost in thought that he somehow missed his name being called. He knew this, because Professor Windu tapped him on the shoulder and he quickly turned around gaped at the man, who towered over him.

“Skywalker. You’re up.” He said darkly, “And I suggest you pay attention lest you miss what the hat has to say.”

Anakin gulped. “Sorry, sir.”

He walked past Mace Windu and up to the chair that sat in the center of the stage. Everyone else’s sorting seemed to go by in a matter of seconds, but his felt as though it dragged on for hours. Sweat gathered at his temples and he couldn’t name why. Unlike the other sortings, he could hear the things the hat didn’t speak as though they were the thoughts crossing Anakin’s mind. It felt as if he was being mentally invaded.

“Hmm… Yes, very interesting… Ambition, bravery, loyalty… Not bad at all, Mr. Skywalker. You have been chosen for great things, indeed. Let’s see, but where to put you?”

“Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.” He squeezed his eyes shut, unsure when he’d made the choice.

The hat laughed, “Well, certainly not Ravenclaw. No offense, but are you sure not Slytherin? I’m sensing a great unrest within you, determined to be ousted and grown into something magnificent.”

Anakin thought his heart was pounding in his ears. 

“Very well…” The hat sighed, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. GRYFFINDOR!!!!!”

By the way the audience at Gryffindor’s table all cheered, he guessed they only heard the last bit, but even though Anakin had gotten what he’d wanted, he felt as though he’d been doused with cold water. Why did the hat feel the need to warn him?

“Looks like you got what you wished for.” A lovely voice said as he walked by.

He almost broke his neck from the double-take he made and forced a bright smile her way.

Yes, but at what cost?

***

Obi-Wan understood that with his fifth year, significantly more responsibility would come into play. Aside from acquiring prefect status (much to his and his parents' satisfaction), there were OWLS to worry about and it was the time for him to take up a protégé. It was a very prestigious honor to mold the minds of the youth and of course when the program opened up, he had readily been the first to volunteer. 

Satine claimed he had too much on his plate to instruct anyone, but she was also the second person to volunteer so he didn’t see how she had all that much room to talk. As his only academic rival and closest friend, she was surely under a similar level of stress.

Well, that just wasn’t true, and he knew it. Satine didn’t have the same familial duties to uphold and while an honor to carry on the Kenobi name, he wouldn’t be honest if he said it wasn’t daunting at times.

“I knew that Skywalker kid was a total Gryffindor.” She said after the housing ceremony. “Didn’t you?”

“Hm?” He hadn’t been paying all that much attention, if he was honest. “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

She bit her lip as she always did just before she was about to lecture him. “You seem more lost in outer space than usual.”

He glared at her. “Thanks for that. You know how serious this decision is.”

She sighed, “As prefects we get the first pick. We’ll get the cream of the crop if we so choose. I’d say the Ravenclaw first years seem fairly mild this year anyway.”

She may have been playing casual, but he knew her better than that to know that she was very nervous about the prospect of influencing a younger student. While practically the poster child for perfection in academics, behavior, and extra-curriculars, Satine still tended to have her own doubts.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He said with an earnest smile. “You’ll be nagging the luckiest first year Ravenclaw in no-time.”

“I do not nag.” She shoved him through the door and he laughed. 

“Doesn’t she nag?” Obi-Wan asked their favorite professor, who sat with hands crossed behind his desk, looking as though he’d likely been expecting them.This earned Obi-Wan a swat on the shoulder from Satine.

“My favorite students.” Qui-Gon said. “Welcome back.”

To be fair, no one else had arrived yet. 

Satine smirked. “You can just go ahead and say Ben is. I won’t be hurt.”

“Oh contraire, Miss Kryze.” The tall man said coyly. “I believe you scored higher on my final exam last year.”

“By half a point.” She waved him off as though it weren’t a big deal to her. 

“Who’s keeping score anyway.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her and she nudged him in response.

“Where’s everyone else?” She asked.

“Coming, I’m sure. You know how everyone tends to idle on the first night back. I can always count on you to be on time. It’s just as fitting too, because there is something I wanted to talk about with Obi-Wan. Satine, you may stay.”

She flopped into a chair off to the side. “What an honor.”

“If it helps, I think Obi-Wan could use a good nag every once in a while.”

“Hey!” Both students protested, to which Qui-Gon laughed merrily. 

“It is good to be back.”

Obi-Wan sighed and shifted in his stance. Why did he feel like Qui-Gon was about to drop some unforeseen and unwelcome duty upon him? Not only that, but did Satine have to have a front row seat to this melodrama?

“I know I cannot choose your protégé for you, Obi-Wan, but I think over these past few years, I’ve come to know you very well. Wouldn’t you say so?”

“I would.” He agreed.

“And while I know it is tradition for a fifth year to pick someone from their own house to mentor, it is not a written rule. Sometimes it is important for us to sacrifice what is status quo for what is right. What I’m about to ask is a lot, but can you please choose Anakin Skywalker as your mentee for the program?”

Obi-Wan let the question settle on him for a second, but he found no shock in this request. He should have, because many would be opposed to choosing outside their houses for a number of reasons. For one, it made instructing difficult when you didn’t share the same experiences, schedules, or common rooms. For another thing, those that shared houses were typically hardwired similarly. Of course, everyone had their differences, but there was a reason rivalries exist. 

There was also the fact that his parents would disapprove of him selecting a Gryffindor. Had Anakin been a Slytherin, they would have been more understanding, but a Gryffindor? That was not going to get him friendly results.

Anakin was clearly not going to be a very easy case either. Everyone saw this both on the Hogwarts Express as well as in front of everyone at the sorting ceremony. Prefects always picked students who they could see themselves in or see high potential in. When Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, he saw the opposite of himself- whether that was good or bad.

However, he kept lingering back on that moment he’d found a desperate and frightened boy tumbling out of the shadows and into the light. He’d looked terrified yet unmarred by the horrors of the wizarding world. He’d been so relieved to find Obi-Wan, who pondered several times what would have happened if Anakin stumbled across a more menacing wizard. 

There was something special about him, even if he couldn’t put his finger on it, and now it seemed Qui-Gon saw the very same unknown factor. Not that Obi-Wan really cared whether Anakin was special or not. He just wanted to help him get through this year.  

“I accept.” He said, much to Qui-Gon’s smile of approval.

“Ben…” Satine said warily.

“My mind is made up.” He said, shutting down any disapproval.

“When isn’t it?” She returned angrily and stood to her feet. 

He was taller than her this year- much to his relief, though he wasn’t sure why that suddenly mattered to him. Perhaps it was because Satine was starting to look a lot more mature than him. He could pretend he didn’t notice all he wanted, but the fact was, last year he was starting to feel like a lanky child next to her. Now, as she stood across from him with hands on her hips and annoyance in her bright blue eyes, he just felt unsettled.

Still, he was holding his ground on this.

“Qui-Gon wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important, right sir?”

“That is correct. However, this does need to be your choice alone.”

“And I just think you should take a minute to consider it!” She said. “You said it yourself that you’d found him lingering about in Knockturn Alley all alone a few weeks ago.”

“I’ve also been there quite a few times.” He said stiffly, which he knew would cause her to flinch the way she did, though he wasn’t proud of it. “Would that make me less of a viable choice?”

She tightened her jaw. “I’m not talking about you, now am I? I’m talking about the boy you just saw totally disregard the entire sorting ceremony.”

“He was likely caught up in the moment. I’m sure you were too when you first came here!” Obi-Wan argued. 

“He was literally facing the opposite direction and ogling that second year girl.” She said. “I have a bad feeling about him, Ben.”

It was a little tough to argue with that, but still, he found himself pushing for reasons buried so deep that he hadn’t fully processed them until they sprung from his lips. Honestly, sometimes, she drove him so mad that he wondered how they hadn’t killed each other at this point in their friendship.

“None of the other fifth years are going to want him for that very reason.” He snapped. 

“And you always have to swoop in and save the day, your own self be damned!” She returned.

“And I know what it’s like to be the first year that nobody wanted!” He said.

Silence consumed the room and Obi-Wan felt the blood rush to his ears at the confession and Satine also seemed to back down substantially. He regretted saying it even more so when he saw the depths of sympathy in her gaze. Or was it pity? He was unsure and had been raised to not want either. She dropped her arms from her verbal-battle-ready position and the frown that went with it.

“I feel like he needs me.” He finally said and turned to their professor. “Is that why you wanted me as his mentor?”

“One of the reasons.” Qui-Gon said. “I owe his mother a great deal for letting the boy come to school at all. She fears for his safety.”

“Why? Hogwarts is the safest place for witches and wizards.” Obi-Wan said.

“For now, but prophetic times are coming, my boy. Times that I believe are coming sooner rather than later.”

***

Their fellow fifth years had been just as surprised to hear that Obi-Wan Kenobi, prefect and top prospect for the Head Boy of their year, chose the trouble-maker as his protégé. He had no issue ignoring all of them. 

Satine had chosen a quiet Ravenclaw boy with historically high marks and good behavior in previous schools named Pre Vizsla. The whole process had been rather unceremonious since the first years hadn’t the faintest clue they were chosen for anything just yet. 

He remembered when everyone else in his year had gotten a mentor except him. It was a strange feeling, seeing that connection being built all around him with no one to turn to. It hadn’t ever been explained to him, because he should have been a decent candidate for a promising mentor. However, he had the faintest suspicion it had to do with his family ties.

Still, then Qui-Gon came around and filled that role for him and it had been better afterwards.

Which was one of the many reasons he owed it to Anakin to be the very greatest mentor that ever lived. He wasn’t sure how he would break the news to his parents, but that would be a different problem for a different day. 

As they drifted up the moving staircases, Obi-Wan tried to focus on what it had been like his first ever night at Hogwarts. Despite growing up around magic his entire life, he’d still been totally mystified by the experience of being in Hogwarts. The moving staircases and aspect of answering riddles to enter his dormitory had been frightening, but he’d quickly acclimated to it. 

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Satine said as they’d entered the tower that led to the common room. “It’s not my place to be upset about who you choose as your mentee. I only worry that you take on more than you can chew.”

“Do I do that?” He asked.

“Yes.” She smirked. “Literally every day of your life.”

“I haven’t choked yet.” He pointed out.

“Yet.” She emphasized. “Eventually, it’s all going to build up, you know.”

“What is it you have against Anakin, really?”

She sighed, “Honestly? Reminds me of my sister a bit. So you know that’s never too good for me. But, he’s just a kid at the end of the day, who needs guidance. And really, you’re probably right to choose him in the grand scheme of things. If you can’t set him up for a decent Hogwarts career, who can?”

“Now who’s adding on pressure?”

“Still you!” She smiled. “I know I tend to complain about your tendency to break your neck for others, but it’s actually a quality I quite admire. Maybe you should have been a Hufflepuff.”

He shook his head. “They’re far too laid-back for me.”

She snorted, “That’s right. That stick up your bum would hate it.”

“Do you think that stuff that Qui-Gon was saying earlier… About Anakin and prophecies… What do you think that was about?”

“You know Qui-Gon is my favorite professor too.” She said carefully, which likely meant she was about to say something he wasn’t going to like. He respected the fact that she always said it anyway. “But he’s always been a little… Overly invested in prophecy.”

He couldn’t disagree, even if he wanted to. “Yes, but why would Anakin’s mother be worried if this was merely just a Qui-Gon thing?”

She removed her hair from the tight french braid that held it back all day and massaged her hand through loose waves that now fell around her face. He found himself a little lost in the motions she was making when she finally answered him. 

“Anakin never said what he was doing in Knockturn Alley?”

“Just that he was lost.” He said.

“Hm...” She mused, but didn’t clarify her thought process “Well, we’ve got an interesting year ahead of us.”

“That we do.” He said. “I’m sure it’s nothing anyway.”

***

What wasn’t nothing was the bright smile that split Anakin’s face when he’d been delivered the news that Obi-Wan Kenobi was to be his mentor. Granted, up until five minutes ago, he had no idea he was even going to be assigned such a role, but it was pleasant news all the same. 

“What are the odds that you were assigned to me?” He chirped happily as Obi-Wan escorted him down the moving staircase and towards his History of Magic classroom. 

“Oh, we aren’t assigned,” Obi-Wan bit his tongue. Well, most, were not assigned, barring his own experiences of course. “We choose our pupils. It’s a rite of passage that you volunteer for fourth year to potentially be chosen for fifth year.”

Well, that was also not how it had been when Obi-Wan was a first year. The fifth year class of that year had been unusually small. Specifically, one person short of having enough to pair every fifth year with a first year. Obi-Wan, unfortunately, had been that first year. 

“Well, of course you were chosen.” Anakin rolled his eyes, sufficiently contradicting Obi-Wan’s past misfortune. “You’re like… the perfect wizard. Or you will be. I don’t know much about magic or any of this, but I know that.”

“Thank you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan smiled down at the sandy-haired boy.

“Which I guess begs the question,” Anakin shot him a look that bordered accusatory, “Why’d you choose me?”

“Because Qui-Gon Jinn told me to.”

No, that wasn’t the truth. He might have not initially come up with the idea on his own, but he was certain it was not Qui-Gon’s mere suggestion that motivated Obi-Wan into picking Anakin. There were many factors at play. For one, Obi-Wan wholly believed this was the best learning experience for himself. Also, Anakin needed someone that could handle him. Not to mention, his stomach twisted in knots at the idea of someone else having to be saddled onto a professor- no matter how beloved that professor was- for it was simply not the same.

But none of those answers would be very good to relay to Anakin. 

So instead, Obi-Wan gave the easiest answer he could manage.

“Because I like you, Anakin.” He shrugged, “Simple as that.”

For now, Anakin seemed placated by this. Of course, Obi-Wan liked him. He was a very likable boy and he knew it. 

“For your first lesson-”

“-Wait.” Anakin cringed. “Are you going to give me more homework?”

Obi-Wan laughed, “No, but I can assist you with your homework should you need it. Though I should warn you in advance, I will not be giving you any of the answers.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that,” He whined with slumped shoulders that said otherwise.

“Now, listen, you may assume that where I’m taking you is where your first lessons will begin.”

“Well… Yeah, but that was until you said ‘for your first lesson’ all professor-like.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “One of the remarkable things about being at Hogwarts is that unexposed wizards like yourself, get to be immersed in magic in ways you hadn’t before. At the same time, those that grew up around magic are forced restraint and are still dropped into an otherwise unfamiliar location.”

“Unless they have siblings that went here.” He pointed out.

“Well sure, but that’s not the same as truly attending.” Obi-Wan said. “Take your friend Rex. I know Cody quite well to know that he is extremely fond of tradition. Rex may feel as though he’s got an edge on you for knowing the layout, but Cody has likely turned him upside down with his description of the place.”

Anakin seemed to follow Obi-Wan’s line of sight to see a young Rex hastily running through the halls- sweat coating his brow as he checked every classroom and tried to match it to the incorrect ones he’d been swearing by since he arrived. 

“But who’s Rex’s mentor?” Anakin asked.

“Unfortunately for him…” Obi-Wan sighed, “Krell.”

Pong Krell was a notorious Besalisk bully amongst Gryffindor house who believed he was simply the greatest and strongest just because he rarely let a goal slip past him as keeper of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team. His teamwork skills, of course, were severely lacking, which left him extremely bitter that Cody got captain instead of him. 

“Rex!” Anakin called to his friend and ran over, almost slipping down a moving staircase in the process, but Obi-Wan was able to grab him by the arm before it was too late. 

“As I was saying, Anakin, your first lesson is to be mindful of your surroundings. Hogwarts teaches that lesson merely in how it was designed.”

“We’ve got to help him.” Anakin said, “We can’t let this Krell guy get in the way of Rex getting to class.”

Obi-Wan agreed, but he and Krell were already not on pleasant terms after a run-in last year when Obi-Wan had stuck up for Cody getting promoted to captain. Mentors took their positions very seriously and it was never a great idea how to tell someone else how to teach their apprentice. Of course, he also would not just stand by and let Krell purposely take his grievances towards Cody out on Rex.

“Go with him.” Obi-Wan said. “History of Magic is taught by Professor Yaddle in classroom 4F. Just continue down this hallway and make haste!”

Anakin nodded and turned with two thumbs up, “I’ll look where I’m going too!” 

The prefect would have felt more confident had Anakin not tripped and stumbled down the flight of steps while it was completely still. Seeing as he managed to make the bottom considerably unharmed and with Rex to help him up, Obi-Wan decided he’d let that lesson lie for the meantime. He had Charms to get to. He would deal with Krell later. 

***

Aside from a tumble or two down the stairs, Anakin’s first few days at Hogwarts had otherwise gone fairly smooth. Much like muggle schooling, the first couple of days were preliminary in most cases with professors electing to explain the nature of their classes and the course load vs actually teaching anything.

His very first class at Hogwarts was “History of Magic” taught by Professor Yaddle, who Anakin made the mistake of saying, “I didn’t know Yoda had a sister!” upon seeing her. They were not related according to an embarrassed Rex, but Yaddle simply laughed in good fun at Anakin and went through her syllabus as per the plan. While Anakin usually snoozed through regular history, he was pretty excited to hear about how wizarding wars were executed or about caveman wizards and witches. 

Potions was taught by Professor Sheev Palpatine, who had been the professor that caught his eye during sorting. Up close, he had a much kinder face and reminded Anakin of a friendly grandfather (if he had one of those). Anakin was the only person in the class willing to taste-test the potion that Palpatine had whipped up prior to their arrival. He smiled in amusement and allowed him to come to the front of the room. While Anakin had been hoping to be turned into a frog or a tarantula, it had just been a potion that tasted like the taster’s favorite soda. 

“Brave just as a true Gryffindor should be.” He said with a pat on the shoulder.

Anakin was pleased to find that he had potions back-to-back on Monday’s and Wednesday’s. 

He ended his first day with Defense Against the Dark Arts, which by the time Anakin had managed to make it through his first day, he’d heard all the rumors that circulated the class. He paid attention to Obi-Wan’s advice about keeping his mind open, because Rex was clearly not as unbiased of a source as he’d previously believed. 

The primary rumor was that the class was cursed. Evidently, several teachers met untimely fates before Dooku broke the curse.

The secondary rumor was speculating just how he managed to do that.

Professor Dooku had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for ages and he looked it. Standing tall and broad all dressed in what resembled a dark brown military uniform as well as a maroon cape, Dooku looked down at all of them with his nose tipped up. His beard and hair were both pure white and while he looked to be about Professor Palpatine’s age, did not possess the same friendly demeanor. Instead, he reminded Anakin more of a vampire with his slicked back hair and dark eyes that seemed to lack any color or softness to them. 

He sighed heavily as though their mere presence was a burden.

According to the rumors, Dooku had encountered much dark magic in the past. He’d seen and done things far more dangerous than teach a class full of naive students how to wave their wands back and forth. Still, Dooku wasn’t mean in the slightest- just overly formal and stern, which meant Anakin would be far from his favorite student. 

In fact, Obi-Wan seemed more dead-set on instilling “core values of a Hogwarts student” in Anakin than his professors cared to. He’d be annoyed if he weren’t happy to have someone to ask his millions of questions to. 

He was just relieved he had a kind mentor as opposed to Rex, who was basically becoming more of a servant than anything else to Pong Krell. Why Rex was even doing Krell’s bidding was beyond Anakin. It wasn’t like mentors had the power to fail the first years. Their power was likely limited at requesting discipline from the people that actually called the shots.

Speaking of those that called the shots, Tuesdays and Thursdays meant that Anakin had the unfortunate reality of having back-to-back sessions of Charms, which was taught by none other than Professor Windu, who was Gryffindor’s Head of House. He certainly remembered Anakin from the sorting and was careful to make eye contact with him when he made a comment regarding paying close attention. 

“Turning your gaze can quickly result in bursting into flames or worse.” He said without any humor in his voice. Anakin was unsure if it was possible that he ever laughed before.

He was the only professor to dive straight into the curriculum on the first day of school, much to everyone’s chagrin. He asked rapid-fire questions around the room, of which every single person got horribly wrong. After feeling as though he asked enough questions, he scanned the room with an intensity of someone that might be trying to decide who they should eliminate on sight.

“Did none of you do the reading that was attached to your welcome letter?” He finally asked.

Anakin felt a spark of indignance at the injustice of it all and simply could not help himself from retaliating. “It said we didn’t have to do it!”

For some reason, these sorts of confrontations never went the way Anakin imagined. He always pictured the rest of the class rallying around him in support and carrying him on their shoulders afterwards. After all, he was merely saying what they didn’t have the gaul to speak.

Instead, he felt the sharpness of Rex’s foot meet his ankle under the desk. It was too late, though, because Professor Windu’s unimpressed stare was reserved only for Anakin and it appeared the damage was done. 

“I believe it said optional , Mr. Skywalker.” He said. “Which, by the way, raising your hand in class is not optional.”

“Same thing.” Anakin shrugged, “If you wanted us to read it so badly, you should have made it mandatory.”

Another jab from Rex was urging him to shut his trap, but Anakin couldn’t resist a challenge; particularly if he believed he was being wronged. He understood his rights and did not see the fairness in getting angry over students not doing an optional assignment. 

“If you’re only ever driven by what you’re told to do, not only will you become a mediocre wizard,” He considered Anakin, “But a mediocre adult.”

“But-” Anakin started, but was promptly rejected.

“5 points from Gryffindor.” Professor Windu said, which released a bunch of gasps in the room.

“What?” Anakin asked, completely clueless as to what that was supposed to mean.

“10.” He said firmly.

“Huh?” He returned, though judging by the glares he was receiving from his fellow Gryffindors (including Rex), the tallying number was not a good thing.

“15. Speak out of turn again today and that’s going to be 20 as well as detention, Mr. Skywalker. That’s got to be some kind of record for the first class.” He challenged with arms crossed across his broad chest. 

This time, regardless of his confusion, Anakin stayed silent and Professor Windu seemed satisfied with himself. 

“Let this be a lesson for all of you,” He chastised and turned his attention to the entire classroom, “That simply because something is optional does not mean it is not important or it should be ignored. If you wish to succeed in my class, you will take every opportunity given to you whether it be required or not. I hope you do the same in life.”

“Way to go, Skywalker.” Somebody indistinct murmured from behind him. 

It didn’t help that Charms easily had the potential of being the most interesting subject to date. While they didn’t share any other exchanges over the duration of the double class period, Anakin spent the remainder of the time stewing and staring at his professor intensely, waiting for a chance of redemption from his classmates.

It never came, unfortunately, and everyone avoided Anakin’s gaze as they all walked by him, mumbling about how he’d already ‘set them back’ and that the older students were going to be furious. 

Even Rex seemed miffed, but still chose to walk with him to lunch- albeit silently.

“Oh come on, you didn’t read the pages either! No one did.” Anakin said after the silence was getting to him. To be fair, it was a large castle.

“Yeah, but I didn’t open my big mouth and cause Gryffindor to lose 15 points in one coversation!” Rex snapped.

“Okay, what’s the deal with the points?”

Rex’s anger seemed to dissipate if only by a little at the realization that Anakin truly had no idea what it meant to have points taken away from a house. 

“Come on,” He dragged him by the arm through the corridors with the expertise of someone that was suddenly very knowledgeable on the layout of the castle. This surprised Anakin far more than anything else. Then again, Krell did have him running all over the place for the past day and a half. 

Finally, they came up to a set of four long hourglasses that hung on the wall before an archway. The one on the far left was filled with emeralds and had an ornate snake embedded at the bottom, clearly representing Slytherin. The next contained sapphires and had a raven for Ravenclaw. Next, he presumed, was Gryffindor with its rubies and the lion at the very front. Confusingly, the Hufflepuff hourglass was not filled with a gold or yellow stone, but clear diamonds. He noticed that Slytherin’s had the most gems in the base while the other three seemed considerably even.

“Have you ever noticed how the banners and streamers throughout common areas are all adorned in Slytherin’s colors?” Rex asked.

“I guess.” Anakin shrugged. To be fair, it was a lot easier to wonder about the floating candles and moving staircases than it was about the color of tapestry.

“That’s from this.” He gestured to the hourglasses. “They keep track of the total amount of points accrued throughout the school year. We are each representations for our houses and when we do something a teacher finds particularly impressive, we are given points.”

He raised a hand to gesture to the small trickle of green that sprinkled down into Slytherin’s base, adding to the growing pile that was already starting to build.

“But when we do something bad and we’re punished, points are taken away.” He nodded towards Hufflepuff’s glass, where five diamonds floated upwards and back into the top. “Professors, prefects, and the Head Boy and Girl can administer and remove points from any student. Well, prefects can’t remove them from or give them to each other, but still.”

“So… When I was talking to Windu in class, I’d lost Gryffindor 15 rubies?”

“Points, but yes.” Rex said. “At the end of the year, the house with the most points gets the House Cup. Slytherin has won for the past three years and in case you haven’t noticed, they’re our rivals.”

“Why?” Anakin wrinkled his nose.

“Because a lot of them are crooks!” He sneered. “They’re notorious for being up to no-good. When they say they’re ‘cunning’, what they really mean is sneaky.”

That didn’t seem entirely right to Anakin. Gryffindor’s head of house had been anything but welcoming to him while Slytherin’s was a friendly presence. Still, he enjoyed competition and did feel guilty for taking down the rest of his house with his actions.

“It’s time we brought the cup back to Gryffindor then.” Anakin nodded firmly and Rex seemed to appreciate that.

***

Anakin’s sour mood over losing points for Gryffindor was quickly replaced with uncontrollable excitement at the realization that he would still have the opportunity to fly despite being a first year and unable to try out for Quidditch. This was all because of a scheduled Flying class that was exclusive to first years, which was taught by Professor Seasee Tiin. Professor Tiin was an Iktotchi, which meant he had tan, smooth skin and two large horns that protruded from both sides of his head and wrapped downwards to almost touch his shoulders. 

At first blush, he was physically imposing, but it became apparent that he shared and appreciated Anakin’s enthusiasm for flying. 

“Your broom, like your wand, must be an extension of yourself.” He smiled wryly. “Then and only then, will you be capable of taking flight like our finest Quidditch players.” 

Rex beamed at Anakin in excitement. While Anakin had heard a great deal about Quidditch, he didn’t really understand the logistics of it yet. He tried to pry details from Obi-Wan, who didn’t seem too keen on discussing it despite being on Ravenclaw’s team. He’d been advised by Satine to corner Cody, who was evidently brimming with expert Quidditch knowledge.

“Now,” Professor Tiin continued, “I want you all to call your broom to you as you would a faithful steed. With the confidence of a thousand blazing suns! Command your broom up!”

Anakin had never ridden a horse nor did he know what it meant to have the confidence of the sun, but it all sounded incredibly inspiring coming from Professor Tiin’s booming voice.

He looked down at the broom, which was laid out adjacent to him on the ground. He stuck his hand out in anticipation and without any further instruction, shouted “UP!”

And sure enough, the wooden hilt of the broom smacked his hand firmly. He wrapped his fingers around the wood in shocked amazement. He looked around him to see that nobody else’s broom had fluttered more than a few inches before slumping back down to the grass. Even Rex was impressed and ignored his own struggling broom for the time being. 

“How are you doing that?” Rex asked.

To ensure it wasn’t a fluke, Anakin threw the broom down and summoned it the same way he had before. When it worked again, he let out a surprised laugh. “I dunno, it’s just a feeling!”

“Remind me to remind you to never become a tutor.” Rex rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated that it wasn’t coming as easily to him.

Across the way, Tiplee and her twin sister, Tiplar, struggled exceptionally with managing their brooms. Tiplee in particular (or Anakin believed it was Tiplee as he was constantly getting them confused) could not even get a hold of her broom. Instead of merely lifting it in the air, it seemed the red-faced Mikkian had sent it whirling all around her in a  frenzy. Tiplar, trying to be of some assistance, lept into the air to retrieve the broom (despite Professor Tiin’s hasty protest) and within the blink of an eye, was turned and dropped on her head with a thud.

Anakin and the rest of the class only paused for a nanosecond before rushing to circle the unconscious girl.

“Back it up!” Professor Tiin ordered and patted Tiplee (whose broom finally fell somewhere across the field) on the hand, “She’ll be alright. I just need to get her to the hospital wing. Madame Nema will know just what to do. She’s certainly cured worse before!”

Anakin stared open-mouth as Professor Tiin scooped Tiplar into his arms and motioned for Tiplee to follow behind him.

“Now I’ll be right back, class.” Professor Tiin said, “Keep practicing and do not under any circumstances try and take flight. As you can see, it can be dangerous.”

He wasn’t gone for two minutes before something large and heavy struck Anakin from behind, sending him violently forward and onto the ground. He’d been able to reach out and catch himself with his hands, but winced at the throbbing that vibrated off his skull. Rex and a girl named Mira Bridger helped him to his feet as the other children scattered as it seemed an onslaught of heavy objects were being hurled onto the Quidditch field.

Even through the shrieks from his classmates, he could hear a sniveling laughter that boiled his blood. Despite where Rex was guiding him, he quickly turned around to face their attackers. Sebulba and a few other third years were rolling on their backs, laughing as though they’d told the funniest joke known to man.

“Hey slime-breath!” Anakin shouted across the field. “Get your jollies from throwing balls in first years’ faces, huh?”

Sebulba stopped laughing immediately and quickly got to his feet, another large leather-bound ball in hand, ready to throw with a precision he’d already displayed by pelting Anakin in the back of the head. In his other hand was a little bat, which was likely what he’d used to cause the ball to go so far. 

“Your mouth is going to be the death of you, Skywalker.” He taunted and raised the ball, “Let me help you shut it.”

“Come on, Anakin.” Rex yanked at his friend’s arm.

“Lightning doesn’t strike twice, bud.” Anakin said. “He’s not gonna hit me again.”

“Sebulba was kicked off Slytherin’s Quidditch team last year for causing so many injuries. Yes, he can.” 

“He can try.” At some point, Anakin’s broom had gone into his hand and a level of focus that he’d never known before settled into him. It was as if the ball was hurtling towards him in slow motion and while, yes, it certainly would have hit him had he not already had the presence of thought to avoid that from happening, he whipped his broom up and used the hilt to deflect the ball. It made a cracking noise, splitting it in half and ricocheting back towards its source. In fact, it struck Sebulba’s friend, Ody Mandrell square in the gut. The boy toppled backwards.

Sebulba charged towards him and chucked a larger ball, which Anakin used one piece of the broken broom to deflect with ease, shattering a window to the Great Hall. As Sebulba grew closer, Anakin did the only thing he could think and snatched Rex’s broom, which instead of appearing in his hand, was under him. 

He rose up and up above the peaks of the towers that comprised Hogwarts. While he knew it was ill-advised, he wanted nothing more than to touch the clouds that hung above him. It would have been all too easy to continue onwards. Flying felt even grander than he’d imagined. His head was clear and the universe seemed to finally make sense. He was no longer the outsider at Hogwarts or the freak at home. He was as free as a bird in the sky. 

Still, he knew he had a purpose in this daring escape and was not surprised to find that Sebulba had knocked a spiraling ball towards his position in the sky. Instead of dodging it, he went straight down, dive-bombing the smarmy older boy to see who was truly the chicken amongst them. 

In a final attempt to knock Anakin down, he released a large ball that seemed to move entirely on its own to target Anakin as the enemy. After bobbing and weaving in a way that Anakin would deem expertly , he finally managed to loop around and reflect the ball back onto Sebulba, who fell to the ground and stared up at him in a breathy disdain.

The first years cheered behind Anakin in a way he’d hoped they would the day before, but it was all mute to him as he stared down Sebulba from across the field.

“Now, beat it. Oh wait…” Anakin scratched his head as his feet touched the ground. “I guess you can’t with you not being on the team anymore.”

Rex snorted. “Look, he’s running away!”

“He’s a snake.” Anakin smirked, but when he turned around to face his adoring class, he found only Professor Tiin, who stared at the splintered broom on the ground as well as the boy that still laid on his back from across the field. The man was impossible to read, but was so large and stern that he blocked the sun. For a moment, Anakin wished he was back in Professor Windu’s Charms class. 

“So,” Anakin began nervously, “How many points are we losing here?”

***

It turned out, destroying school property, breaking another student’s ribs, and deliberately disobeying a direct order was, in fact, above the points-system, because Professor Tiin escorted Anakin to Professor Windu’s office.

“Can’t you just cut off my hands?” He asked.

Seasee Tiin sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Professor Windu is your head of house and is therefore the final voice in your punishment.”

“Oh, great.” Anakin leaned on his hand. While having the head of house as a final say might have saved most students, he had his suspicions that this didn’t remotely come into effect when Mace Windu was involved. He knew the guy for all of three days and had already climbed to the bottom of his preference list. 

“I’ll be sure to ask the prefects to be extra diligent in their nightly inspections, Headmaster.” Mace Windu’s clear voice spoke as he escorted the ever-tiny Yoda out of his office. It was odd to see the Headmaster walking about. He was incredibly slow and moved with a cane, but that didn’t alter the oddness of seeing him mobile. 

“Careful, they must be.” He said in that backwards dialect that he and Professor Yaddle favored. 

When the two realized they were not alone, they turned to Professor Tiin and Anakin, who was trying very deliberately to hide in the shadow of the hulking man. This was tough to do when Yoda was beneath his level and looked around him.

“Professor Tiin… Mr. Skywalker.” Yoda smiled at him as they moved past. “Important business, you have with Professor Windu.”

Why the heck was he smiling? Did this little green gremlin enjoy the suffering and expulsion of others? Also, Anakin guessed it wasn’t great that Yoda already knew who he was.

“Why do I have a feeling this isn’t going to be good?” Professor Windu sighed.

“Leave you to it, I will, but consider my suggestions, you must.” Yoda offered before nodding at Anakin again in a friendly manner.

Professor Windu’s office was simple and organized without a single frivolous trinket that may be considered a distraction. He had a large hourglass on his mahogany desk and many stacks of books all around him. Under better circumstances, Anakin might have asked if he’d done any light reading. However, he knew he needed to try to grovel at least a little bit if he wanted to avoid expulsion. 

It was the third day of school. This would be a record even for him.

As Professor Tiin explained the situation in a very matter-of-fact fashion, Anakin realized the Professor had been within eyesight longer than he’d known. He had basically seen most of the affair roll out right down to Anakin’s time in the sky. He took the moment to try and reminisce, because it would likely be his last time. If he wasn’t expelled, surely Professor Windu could sniff out that Anakin enjoyed flying and forbid him from that.

Still, he didn’t say anything. In fact, it seemed more as though the two professors were engaging in a business meeting. Professor Tiin was pointing out the details as though he were delivering a sales pitch while Professor Windu leaned back and listened intently, not even sparing Anakin a glance.

He knew better than to speak up without being asked for his input. After all, there was no reason the rest of Gryffindor house needed to suffer for his actions. Still, a fire burned within him about how ridiculous this was. 

“Is what Professor Tiin says true?” Windu finally turned his gaze to Anakin, which was even more tortuous than when he’d been left out of the conversation.

“Yes, sir.” He said. “But if you expel me, you better get Sebulba too. He’s the one who started it. My head still hurts from where that stupid flying ball got me.”

Professor Tiin frowned. “Expel you? Why would we do that?”

“Yeah, you were there.” Anakin shrugged. “This isn’t exactly my first rodeo. Well, it was my first time ever flying or on a Quidditch field-”

“-You’ve never done that before?” Professor Windu cut him off. “Ever?”

“Never touched a broom before.” Anakin said. “Uh, not for flying anyway. Just for the regular purpose of a broom.”

Professor Windu leaned back in his seat and nodded thoughtfully. “Sebulba will be dealt with, but you did disobey a direct order from a professor when you could have simply gotten help.”

“However, you were defending yourself.” Professor Tiin said. “And quite efficiently, might I add.”

“Really?” Anakin grinned, sensing that he was to live another day at Hogwarts. “So… I’m not in trouble.”

“I didn’t say that.” Professor Windu held out a hand. “One thing is clear about you, Skywalker, and that’s that you don’t have much grasp on patience, self-control, or discipline. You’ve demonstrated a peculiar amount of… power for a wizard of your age and that can be a very dangerous thing if in the wrong hands.”

“Truly.” Professor Tiin agreed. “Flying is all about control and being one with the sky- realizing that you are to be patient with where she takes you. It’s hard work.” 

“So,” Windu toyed with his quill. “In order to prevent any other instances like these from popping up, you’re to learn caution, control, and balance by serving a very specific detention.”

Anakin sighed. He’d gone through many specific detentions and hadn’t retained whatever point they were supposed to make. He braced himself for a world of boredom. Though, much to his confusion, Cody was ushered into the room.

He looked down at Anakin for a moment before looking back to Windu. “What’s this all about, sir?”

“This is about the starting beater position that needed to be filled for Gryffindor’s Quidditch team.” He said as though he was delivering the death sentence.

***

 For as long as Cody had been alive, he’d studied Quidditch to the point of it being like a second form of breathing for him. It all started with mastering a toy broom before even fully grasping the logistics of walking and it only exacerbated with continuous conditioning by his older brothers. Having 3 older brothers and 3 younger brothers, there were enough of them to form a team of their own- though his oldest brother didn’t play anymore. Cody typically doubled up on positions when they all played as a means of fine-tuning his agility and skill. He’d become proficient at every position in the event that a specific position was required when he finally reached his second year and could try out. And like every other student at Hogwarts, he had to earn it.

Well, almost every student at Hogwarts. 

While he occasionally struggled with studying for his assignments, he knew the in’s and out’s of all things Quidditch history. It was the only time he’d excitedly answer a question in class. His father said he had a one track mind, but while that was supposed to be an insult, Cody took it in stride. It just meant he was focused. 

That focus made him the youngest Quidditch captain in Hogwarts history and it made him damn proud.

First years originally were allowed to try out just as any other student when Hogwarts first opened, but after a few deaths and near-deaths due to lack of broom-safety, a flying class had been implemented. While most pure bloods and half bloods knew how to fly a broom before they walked through the doors of Hogwarts, it was only fair to those that didn’t grow up in a magical family. Then, it was the next natural step to include a rule against first years trying out.

Or at least, he’d thought it was a rule until during his first year, Obi-Wan Kenobi managed to get approval to try out for Ravenclaw’s team. At the time, Cody had been furious at this revelation in part of jealousy as well as his assumption that Kenobi had managed to bribe the typically fair Professor Dooku into letting him try out. They hadn’t been friends yet, but afterwards would come to learn that it was Kenobi’s ruthless family that influenced the decision, whether Kenobi wanted it or not- he did not have much of a say. It was also difficult to be disgruntled with him when he so-clearly did not want to be there- try as he might to seem invested at the time. 

Kenobi made the team, as awful as he was at the time, but Ravenclaw’s team was desperate for a benchwarmer if they wanted to qualify for the season. 

But at the very least, he still had to try out like everyone else. Meanwhile, Skywalker wasn’t just some first year who lucked into landing an attempt to try out. He was a first year who’d lucked himself onto the damn team while hopping over every ounce of protocol along the way like they were obstacles he couldn’t be bothered with. 

Professor Windu insisted on private training sessions until Anakin was ready to join the rest of the Gryffindor team. Cody knew they were in need of a starting beater, but was a firm believer in holding try-outs to see what talent rolled in, not picking the very first thing you see. 

Still, the story that Professors Tiin and Windu had told him was nothing short of incredible and he’d be a liar to say he wasn’t curious what the kid could do.

Windu, himself, was present at this practice session, most likely to ensure that both Cody and Anakin show up, and he notices Satine is also sitting in the bleachers- a book on her lap and her quiet mentee beside her.

“Remind me again why I’m participating in Gryffindor’s Quidditch practice?” Kenobi argued as he hovered in front of the hoops on the far end of the field.

“He’s your mentee!” Cody called, “Not my fault you decided to hop party lines.”

Kenobi sighed with his whole body and braced himself. To be fair, playing with a new recruit always had its risks, but his friend always looked like he’d tasted bad medicine when about to play Quidditch. Cody believed it was the flying aspect. Kenobi never liked flying.

“Alright, Skywalker,” He began as he set the heavy trunk in the middle of the field, “What do you know about Quidditch?”

Anakin, who’s sandy blond hair swished every time he moved his head even slightly, tilted his head back to look up at him with confusion. “Uh, it’s a sport?”

Cody sighed through his nose, trying to remain calm. He shot Windu a disapproving look, even if the professor was out of earshot and simply watching from the stands. 

“Yes, right you are about that, but that’s not all it is.” He said with as much severity as he could, though the boy didn’t seem to scare easily, “It’s a test of strategy, coordination, speed, and physical dominance.”

The young boy smirked, “And how exactly does that make it any different from other sports?”

“Think of the good of the team. Think of the good of the team. Think of the good of the team.” Cody mentally reiterated. “Can you die in muggle sports?”

“You can die doing anything.” He argued. 

Okay, Cody had been walking into that one.  

“I just want to fly!” Anakin shrugged.

“And you will.” Cody nodded, “As a beater, you’ll be whizzing all around this field as you try and knock the chasers off their brooms.”

He raised his eyebrows beneath his blond fringe, “Knock them off? What does that do?”

“Speaking as a chaser who’s been knocked on his arse a fair share, a good beater can dominate the essence of the match,” He explained and flipped open the locked trunk to expose the balls that immediately captured Anakin’s attention, “Everybody has an objective in Quidditch. Chasers try to score goals with the Quaffle. Keepers defend the posts to block goals.”

He pointed to the large red ball in the center for emphasis. “Then, there are beaters, like yourself, and you use these little bats to beat the bludgers so that they stop the chasers from being able to score.”

“They look heavy.” Anakin mused, but didn’t sound the least bit fearful of it.

“They feel heavy.” He grimaced. “They’re chained up for a reason.”

“What’s that one?” He asked, pointing to the smallest ball of the bunch.

Cody smiled and picked the walnut-sized ball up and rolled it around in his hand, taking a brief moment to admire how it glittered in the sunlight. “This, my friend, is the golden snitch, and is often the do-or-die for a proper victory. A match can’t end without it being caught.”

Anakin looked about ready to ask another question, but Cody continued on anyway, “The team whose seeker catches the snitch gets an additional 150 points. Each goal by a chaser is worth 10 points.”

Cody waited for the question that every single freshly-bred recruit asked when explaining the logistics of Quidditch. 

“What’s the point in having chasers if the snitch is worth 150 points? That would mean an unlikely 15+ goal lead.”

He reveled in defining his worth as a chaser and a position on the team. It fueled a passionate fire within him while everyone else was busy doubting his importance. At the end of the day, the teamwork built across his team was what grabbed them the win, not some flashy save at the very end. He worked hard to put as many points on the board as possible to prevent flashy mistakes from happening. 

While the rules had never puzzled Cody or most that grew up with the sport, newcomers were always trying to dismantle the technicalities. It was a common source of argument between Satine and Kenobi during the course of the first year. Of course, Cody explained it a whole lot better than Kenobi could, but Satine did not seem convinced.

Anakin didn’t ask though. Instead, he tried to make sense of it all. “So, the idea is to keep chasers from building that points cushion?”

Cody sized the small boy up, momentarily impressed.“Yes… That’s exactly the point.”

“Alright.” He said flippantly, “Can we play?”

“Yes, can we get on with this already?” Kenobi called from across the field, looking incredibly uncomfortable just floating there aimlessly. 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret about me, Skywalker.” Cody smiled. “I’ll never say no to a Quidditch match.”

As they got in the air, Kenobi had insisted on running through simple flying drills in order to ensure that Anakin was ready for the basics. Cody regretfully admitted that this was likely for the best- no matter how terribly he was itching to see what Skywalker was made of. 

“We have to teach him not to simply fall off of his broom.” Kenobi said as he hovered closer.

“Sure, but who’s going to teach you?” Cody retorted.

“That happened once and it was because I had a headache!”

“From the glasses your parents swindled you into.” He said.

“ Anyway , Anakin,” Kenobi began, “While flying might seem thrilling and exciting, it’s important to understand like most responsibilities, there are risks. The biggest one, being, that you fall off your broom to the ground down below.”

“That’s how we lose most people.” Cody mused with that hint of gravity that was always used to frighten the newbies. 

“The point is,” Kenobi cut in, not as interested in frightening the boy, “You will fall and you could get hurt, but if you play safe and smart, it doesn’t have to be lethal.” 

Anakin’s eyes drifted from where they hovered all the way to the grassy plain beneath them. Where most would have justifiable fear in their eyes at the idea of that, Anakin only had steadfast determination. It didn’t even appear as determination not to fall, but a determination to get up afterwards. 

A true Gryffindor.

“My position is like really intense dodgeball.” He reasoned, but neither Cody or Kenobi knew what the bloody hell that was, but could only assume it was a game played in the muggle world.

“Sure,” He said, “Just try to do the knocking and not be knocked.”

“Sage words,” Kenobi rolled his eyes, “We have an exceptional hospital wing at Hogwarts, Anakin, that can heal just about any injury to the fullest, but seeing as they’ve yet to find the cure for death, we are going to run through falling drills so as to prevent that ghastly situation.”

“Oh, come on!” Anakin whined, “I just got in the air! I don’t want to spend my whole day practicing falling off of it. Can’t we run back to that later?”

Professor Windu shifted in his seat in the stands, disapproval radiating right off of him even from where they sat in the air. Despite his previous reservations, Cody couldn’t help but sympathize for the boy. After all, he, too, had been eager to play when he first started. 

“Nothing, and I repeat, nothing you learn should ever be without the foundation of caution.” Kenobi said gravely and his eyes flickered to Cody briefly, try as he might not to make that obvious. Something tightened inside Cody as he cleared his throat and looked away.

“We’ll do the falling drills.” He said, “Though your determination to start swinging bodes well for you.” 

***

It was no secret that Obi-Wan didn’t care much for Quidditch. He didn’t mind the sport in total. In fact, he guessed watching it could be quite exciting, if not a little repetitive. However, playing Quidditch was an entirely different story. For one thing, while proficient in flying, it was far from his favorite thing. The unpredictability of being suspended above the ground with little support, alone, was not his idea of fun. It was even more unnerving when others were soaring around him with little care or concern for where they were going so long as it promised a decent Quidditch play.

However, most of his distaste for the sport derived from how important it was that he be good at it. While Cody might have had older brothers who played for Hogwarts, it was never a precedent for him to do the same thing as it had been for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan came from a long history of champions on both his mother and father’s side and he certainly did not want to be the person who broke that impressive streak. 

He didn’t want to be the kind of mentor that pushed his own fears on his mentee, but judging by how brashly Anakin attempted everything else, it was justifiable that he be the wet blanket, so to speak.

He glanced over where Satine sat in the empty audience. She was busy tutoring her own protégé, Viz, in transfiguration, but spared him a small smile and wave. Rex had also joined the two of them, though his eyes were glued on the sky in a wistful gaze. The boy clearly wanted to join them. 

Satine was likely the only other person in Hogwarts with a distaste for Quidditch, though her reasoning was that it was simply too violent to ever enjoy. While Cody was always cheeky about her attending every match anyway , Obi-Wan believed she just didn’t want to be left out. It did take up most of Obi-Wan’s conversations with Cody during the season, so he could understand that. It’d taken Obi-Wan a long time to admit that Quidditch was not his favorite past time, but obviously, his first choice in discussing this had been with Satine. 

However, he reasoned, whatever her reasons were for attending all of Ravenclaw’s matches, if she could bear them and cheer for him along the way, he could certainly try to suck it up and play. 

He waved back with a flutter of his fingers and turned back to Cody and Anakin, who were busy trust-falling at a safe height as instructed. It was a skill Obi-Wan wished someone had taught him when he first started, but as he was viewed as the kid that was forced onto the team and would never see a match anyway, it was never enforced.

“Make sure you curl your neck in.” Cody said, “And keep your limbs bent.”

“And if you really feel as though it’s going to be a harsh tumble, stick an arm out.” Obi-Wan said as he prepared himself to demonstrate again. “It’s better to break an arm than it is your neck or head. Much easier to heal too.”

None of this seemed to shake Anakin in the slightest, which gave Obi-Wan some pause. Even Cody seemed jostled by the idea of his first big crash in the beginning. Anakin, while humoring them and performing the falling practices, seemed bored out of his mind.

“Okay, I think we’ve had enough of that, wouldn’t you say, mate?” Cody asked and whether he was asking for Anakin or for himself, was unclear, because both boys looked at him hopefully. Obi-Wan often wondered where it was written that he always be the sensible one.

“Do you feel as though it’s second nature?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin groaned, “Yeah, in fact I might just do a triple backflip and land on my feet at this rate.”

Cody snorted and Obi-Wan shot him a glare before returning to Anakin, “I do hope you’re taking this seriously, Anakin.”

“I’m not even sure what to take seriously.” He pointed out, “I’ve never played!”

“Very well. We’ll play.” Obi-Wan said cautiously, “And while it’s perfectly fine to have fun, please do not allow that fun to get in the way of protecting yourself.”

Cody shook his head. “Okay, that’s enough of mentor- mode. I’m in captain mode and I say, have as much fun as you’d like. Be smart, like Kenobi said, but be mean .”

He sighed, “I give up.”

Cody distributed a bat to Anakin and unleashed the quaffle and bludgers as Obi-Wan prepared himself in front of the goal again.

“Alright, so I’m going to try and score a goal on Kenobi.” Cody explained. “Your main objective is to beat the living snot out of me so I don’t get that opportunity.”

“So I just clobber you with this?” Anakin asked as he waved the little bat around.

“No, you use that to beat the bludger to then hit me.”

“Cool!” He beamed, “This is like dodgeball… And baseball… and football…”

While he didn’t typically have to make much contact with the bludger, Obi-Wan had seen many players spit teeth because of the punch it packed, and usually wanted no parts. However, he was pleased to see that he merely seemed to exist as a figure for Cody to practice on. He knew his friend would manage to find a way for his own practice here somewhere. 

The bludger spun around as Cody grasped the quaffle in his hands, looking like a man that had reunited with his true love for the first time in ages, and whipped upwards and then whirling down in a fake out maneuver that was likely to demonstrate to Anakin some of the tactics chasers might try.

“Not going easy on him, huh?” Obi-Wan called, recognizing this diversion immediately.

“If he can beat me, he can beat anyone.” Cody said confidently.

Cody was a skilled chaser. He was skilled at every position, actually. He’d say it came naturally if he didn’t understand how hard his friend worked. It was a little natural, of course, because Obi-Wan had to work just as hard to be mediocre. 

He noticed from his peripherals that Satine had looked up from her book again, because no one was immune to watching Cody swerve through the field as if he owned the place. He was like a ray of red light, disappearing into a blur before appearing in full with a disarming confidence. 

However, as he’d managed to get past Anakin and over to the post, a speech on his lips about what Anakin needed to improve, the words never came. Instead, the sound of the bludger ricocheting against Cody’s face filled the air in a matter of nanoseconds. Then, everything seemed to slow down in that incredible sobering way a match could turn from fun to fatal. 

Cody had dropped the quaffle and wobbled back and forth for a moment with a dumbfounded look on his face. Anakin was frozen in motion with the bat still raised above his head. Satine and Rex had leapt to their feet while Viz peered up at them in confusion and Mace Windu was approaching the field. Obi-Wan moved over to Cody in case he was about to deadweight fall, but the chaser steadied himself and a slow, bloody smile gave way to his face.

“Now that ,” He spit some blood out. “Is mean Quidditch.” 

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief and Cody shot him an accusatory look, “Quit worrying, would ya? I’ve taken far worse than that before.”

He turned to Anakin in awe, “Anakin, that was-”

“-A good start.” Cody beamed, which Anakin also looked immensely relieved that Cody was both safe and not the least bit mad. “There’ll be more people on the field, which will make that shot near-impossible, but the rapidity of your reflexes is something I haven’t seen in just anyone at this stage. Next, we can-”

“-Make a quick visit to the hospital wing.” Professor Windu’s deep voice cut in. 

Now Cody looked like he was about to start whining, but one look at Professor Windu’s stern face and the craziest of men wouldn’t think to push the issue.

“As pleased as I am that Skywalker is working out, we do not need our captain bleeding out before the season even starts.” He said curtly and nodded to Obi-Wan in acknowledgement. “Something tells me some of you would rather call it for the day, anyway.”

Anakin didn’t protest this time, but stared in wonder at the bat in his hand before helping Obi-Wan clean up the equipment. 

“I’m not even sure how I did it, Obi-Wan.” He said, voice teetering on the edge of excitement and apprehension. 

“Everybody has natural gifts, Anakin.” Obi-Wan smiled. “It seems this will be yours. Just be careful not to use this as an excuse not to practice.”

He nodded. “I can’t wait to meet the whole team and get a real feel for what it’s like.”

“It’s…” He tried to think of neutral descriptors, “Indescribable.”

***

He was close… So very close… It was downright intoxicatingly just how near the fulfillment of the prophecy approached. He’d waited so very long. Cast to the shadows and forced to display a persona that reflected the hypocrisy and delusion of this mixed world. And yet, he was dedicated to the goals of his forefathers and their ancestors before. Many stronger than he had failed and met a gruesome end, but that didn’t mean their message was incorrect. Even he had made the mistake of acting too quick once. However, he’d never do such a thing ever again. 

While he never preached patience in his teachings, because when unleashing one’s power, it was all or nothing if it were to mean anything, but planning required tactical foresight and proper execution. The preservation of his people depended on his inevitable rise to power and while taxing, would be well worth the price of playing the part.

Sidious faced himself in the mirror, glowing orange eyes gazing back at him through the shroud of black robes. His truest self would one day be known to every cursed wizard and witch that drew him away and would heed the wrath of the rising Sith. At last, his plans could truly start to take shape.

The nightmares and dreams that haunted both he and his current apprentice were a surefire sign that he was here and as the term had started, this had all been but confirmed when Sidious looked at the boy for the first time, sensing the power that emanated off him in a way his master had taught him long ago. 

He was exactly as he should be… Isolated from any true wizard knowledge, making him beyond impressionable. He was filled to the brim with untapped potential and passion that would be molded into skills greater than any wizard had ever seen. He was an outcast, which his foolish mother believed would be for his protection. When in reality, it would be his undoing: proof that magical children did not belong amongst the peasants. While plagued with innocent kindness that would require quashing, the boy was otherwise the ideal student to be groomed into exactly what Sidious needed of him. 

His recent dream foretold of it. 

Balance.  

“After all of this time… He’s finally here. And soon… He will be mine.”  

*** 

Dear Mum,

Sorry for taking so long to write. I know I promised I’d write to you every week, but it’s been crazy busy here since I last spoke to you! I’m way busier than I’ve ever been at my old schools, which you’ll be happy to know includes doing my homework on time. Most of it is pretty interesting and way more useful than stupid stuff like math and science. I know you were worried about me going here, but everything is good. I’m having the time of my life!

I joined the Quidditch team. Actually, I was ASKED to join. Most people have to try-out and first years aren’t even allowed to do that, which you probably remember. My flying professor was the one who recommended me for it and Professor Windu actually went for it (he’s not a big fan of me). Not sure why you never told me about Quidditch, because It. Is. AWESOME!!!! I’m a beater, so I’m right in the thick of the action and am getting pretty good. My captain, Cody, has been practicing with me just about every day. My mentor, Obi-Wan, is there too, though I suspect he’s not the biggest fan of the arrangement. My favorite part of it all is flying. The wind through my hair, soaring above the ground, total and absolute control… It’s so freeing. My first match is in November and we’re against Slytherin. You were a Gryffindor too so you get why THAT’s a big deal.

The team was definitely a little confused why they recruited some scrawny first year, but like always, I showed them what I was made of when Cody and I ran through what we’d been practicing. Now, all the guys and girls are pretty cool with me… Well, except this guy, Krell. Pardon my language, but he’s a real knob-knocker. I mentioned in my last letter that he’s my friend, Rex’s, mentor. Well, Krell’s got beef with just about every first year, it seems. Not sure who dropped him on his head as a kid, but I don’t need to listen to him like Rex does and have no problem sticking some puking pasties in his energy drinks. 

You didn’t hear that from me, though.

Anywho, school is going surprisingly well too. Like, I’m actually a professor’s class-favorite. Not sure how it happened, but Professor Palpatine has really taken a liking to me. It’s not that I’m top notch at potions either. There are students that get better marks, but he said I remind him a great deal of himself and says my level of ambition rivals that of a Slytherin. I dunno about all that, but his class is fun! Somebody usually explodes at some point in a given class period, but unlike Professor Windu, who goes on looooooooooong lectures about responsibility or Obi-Wan, who drawls on about what to do differently next time, Professor Palpatine makes a funny joke and moves along. 

I’m still not so sure about this Professor Dooku, though. He’s in good with Qui-Gon, who’s the only professor in school who’s cool with students calling him by his first name. Rumor has it, somebody sent a barrel of gin to his office one time and so ever since then he just prefers ‘Qui-Gon’. Dooku makes Windu seem relaxed in nature. He’s pretty stiff, but isn’t out to get me like Windu seems to be. I don’t think he’s ever smiled before, is all.

Headmaster Yoda is pretty cool, I guess. He isn’t around much, which is a bit unusual according to Obi-Wan, who says he used to be a lot more hands on, but rumors have been circling about some bad stuff happening outside of Hogwarts. Not bad enough to make the papers, which have MOVING PICTURES by the way. 

I’m proud to say I’ve finally got this school down from top to bottom in terms of navigation. I got lost a lot in the beginning, but Professor Palpatine gifted me with a map of the place that shows little footsteps as to where everyone is and everything. I dunno how he came to it, but it’s been real useful in figuring out how to work the moving stairs. Everything in the wizard world just seems cooler than back at home, ya know? Yeah, I wish they had TV, but I’m way too caught up with Quidditch and school and hanging out with friends to think much of Saturday morning cartoons. 

Still, I miss you like crazy. Obi-Wan is a great mentor and definitely looks out for me, but it’s not the same as having you around. Sure, someone else is always doing my laundry (not sure how or who they are), but it still doesn’t wind up smelling as fresh as when you do it. Even more than that, I really miss your voice. I wish you didn’t dislike magic for reasons you won’t share with me, because I think it’s really cool.

I’m actually pretty good at it too, which I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to move to a neighborhood more centric on wizarding someday. I think we would both fit in a great deal better there. Plus, I could hang out with my friends easier then. 

Anyway, I can’t believe I’ve been here for a full month already. I’ve got a pretty big Charms paper to write for next week. I’ve been pushing it off long enough and Obi-Wan will have my head if I don’t get the draft to him tomorrow. I swear, if it weren’t for him, I’d be far too distracted to get much of anything done. 

Love you, mum! I wish they had phones here so we could actually speak. I hope the owl I’m borrowing from the school, Artoo, gets this to you safely. If so, please give him a treat on me.

Love,

Anakin 

[winniewon]

g u i n e v e r e   d r a k e   m o n t a g u e

basics:

name: guinevere drake montague. pronunciation: gwi·nuh·veer dreik män-tə-ˌgyü. meaning: guinevere- white shadow, white wave. drake- dragon, snake. birthday: april 10th. age: twenty-three. pronouns: they, she & her. sexuality: pansexual. siblings: none. parents: samael montague & han montague nee willows (step-father). other family: sabrina adair (birth mother). elena montague (cousin). languages: english. latin. current residence: ladonhill in wales with damocles belby. hometown: nomadic.

wizard fun:

hogwarts house: slytherin. year of graduation: 1977. occupation: dragon tamer and trainer. pet: two dragons, one named cracks and one named marble. blood status: halfblood. species: witch. patronus: dragon. one of the most powerful and formidable creatures of the magical world, dragons are ambitious and dominant. with the ability to breathe fire, they quickly assert themselves, garnering both fear and respect from those around them. they are unafraid to take risks and prefer to live by their own set of rules. they are quick to lead and do not back down from a challenge.  boggart: drowning. amortentia:   amber.   it is a fine scent that winnie often wears in her own perfumes. she always loves that it smells complicated. it is both sweet and robust at the same time.  ash & smoke. growing up with dragons meant you got used to the smell of something burning. winnie quickly grew to love those smells. she feels most at home amongst the ash and the smoke.   hay.   being part of a nomadic group during her childhood, there was always a use for hay. it was used to bed and feed all manner of animals as well as pad different areas when they were working with circuses. it brings out a rare sense of nostalgia in her.. wand type: 9 3/4″ fir wood, dragon heartstring, unreliable.   wands of this wood are called ‘the survivor’s wand’, because they are sold to wizards who subsequently pass through mortal peril unscathed. there is no doubt that this wood, coming as it does from the most resilient of trees, produces wands that demand staying power and strength of purpose in their true owners, and that they are poor tools in the hands of the changeable and indecisive. fir wands are particularly suited to transfiguration, and favour owners of focused, strong-minded and, occasionally, intimidating demeanour.  if your wand is dragon heartstring, this core as a rule produces ‘wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. while they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. the dragon wand tends to be the easiest to turn to the dark arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. it is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.’  affiliation: the death eaters.

appearance:

height: 5′7″. hair color: black. eye color: green. typical hair style: messy and down unless she’s about to go to work. then she twirls it back with clips or sticks. fashion style: winnie wears anything that interests her. she doesn’t care for particular fashion trends so much as whatever catches her fancy. she tends to lean towards jackets with lots of buttons and baubles, high neck sweaters, scarves of silk, and as much jewelry as she can wear. [ fashion ] distinguishing features: winnie is tattooed all over. she is covered in scars. she lost her left arm and had it reattached, but the scar is significantly worse than others. she has a prosthetic right pinky. her eyes are known to be particularly striking.

personality:

positive traits: dauntless. dynamic. adventurous. negative traits: conceited. possessive. impulsive. theme song: gasoline by halsey.

headcanons:

winnie believes in luck. she certainly believes herself a lucky one. however, fate is meant for fools. to her, it’s just another attempt to control you. winnie answers to no one and nothing, especially not something like fate.

how early winnie arrives to an appointment depends on how much winnie actually cares to show up. sometimes she will forget about it entirely if it doesn’t seem important to her. she’s is always flawlessly punctual for her dragon duties, though. if she’s going to show up to something, it is usually on time. winnie might bail or forget, but she is rarely outright late. 

winnie hates to fly on a broomstick. she has absolutely no fear of heights. however, she doesn’t trust an enchanted object to keep her in the air the same way that she would a dragon or other magical creature.

biography:

The Montague family were not a respectable pureblooded family by any stretch of the imagination, but they were technically a pureblooded family. Samael Montague had always felt like the kid from the wrong side of the tracks. An indiscriminate Gryffindor that was more content to look after himself than to worry about what his family name meant. It wasn’t long after he graduated from Hogwarts that he picked up a job in dragon keeping. The pay was good and most people didn’t have the stomach to do it. Samael was good at his new job. He swiftly learned how to care for dragons and train them for sport, entertainment, and educational purposes. He became known as the man you wanted on hand for dragons of any variety, and took up a traveling position with several companies.

He was a man that did what he wanted, whenever he wanted. He knew how to have a laugh and live in the moment. In each town to which they traveled, he’d find a new love for the evening after the dragons had been fed, and he would disappear to the next venue in the morning. Every now and then he’d stay a few days or he’d look them back up if he came through again, but Samael knew nothing of attachment. These were ultimately fleeting encounters and they all knew it. That was even how it went with a curious muggleborn girl by the name of Sabrina Adair. Samael and his circus came through town for the week. He became enamoured by her bright eyes. Yet, he didn’t look back when it became time to move on. The difference came nearly a year later when the circus came back through the town.

The math added up and the little baby’s face was all too familiar. Samael knew that this baby belonged to him, but none of that would have mattered, though. Samael wanted the child. So he took her. He obliviated Sabrina for good measure. He didn’t want to risk her trying to take the baby back or showing up unannounced in the future. It was just another unnecessary attachment. While he was woefully unprepared to raise a baby, Samael took her back to his caravan and dragons happily to begin the next great adventure. He raised her just as he would a dragon, too.

Guinevere Drake Montague did not have a traditional childhood. Winnie, as she is commonly known, traveled the circuits with her father. She could ride a dragon before she could even walk. Her father believed that she was capable and within her reason to do anything that she had the nerve to do. Winnie started working right alongside him as early as she could. There were never any rules, and Winnie certainly wouldn’t have abided by them if there were. She quite liked her father’s principles of: if you can, do; if you want, take; and if you can’t, learn. Why couldn’t she have everything she wanted? It taught her everything that she believed that she needed to know. Did it come with a few scars? Sure.

There were plenty who had called her father a madman for what he let Winnie do, but they agreed so long as she came out alive on the other side, he was doing fine. Although, that was tested on more than one occasion. Winnie has spent more than her fair amount of time in St. Mungo’s. Her body is covered in scars proving that most of her ideas weren’t the wisest. A prosthetic pinky on her right hand was likely the most telling of this. It never phased young Winnie, though. She was happy to continue doing precisely as she liked and dared, taking anything she wanted, riding her dragons, laughing with her father until the end of her days.

Then her letter came. Hogwarts. At first she had absolutely no desire to go. It felt like a cage. A big stone castle planted in the ground. There wouldn’t even be dragons. Winnie declined. Firmly. Her father, for once, didn’t listen. Winnie had no form of formal schooling before. He decided it would be good for her. Samael even promised that everything would go back to traveling and sport during holidays and vacation anyway. So she went. It wasn’t horrible. Winnie was sorted into Slytherin. It didn’t take her very long to realize that she didn’t really understand her classmates. Their motivations were all a mystery to her, but they were fascinating.

Winnie was an inconsistent student. There was no discerning which subjects she was partial to. However, if anything niche took her interest, she became exceptional at it. The rest passed in general disinterest. Thus school went, and when she went home, she traveled with her father and the dragons. That is until very recently her father decided to fall in love and get married. Winnie didn’t understand. She liked her step-father well enough, but her father’s new husband wanted to settle down. His fear of the brewing war putting her desires at risk.

After graduation, a friend pulled Winnie along to meet a man that went by The Dark Lord. That was the sort of theatrics that she could get behind. It took very little convincing for her to take a Dark Mark among the rest of her ink. Like her father, she went into dragon taming. Afterall, she already knew how to do everything, and it’s not a very popular job given the risks. Winnie does a lot of traveling, but she has begun to feel a tad stifled by being recruited regularly for any given task the Death Eaters need. She’s never much liked being at anyone’s beck and call, but this doesn’t seem like a situation that you get out of alive.

[indomitableicequeen]

🧙🎭💖

Send in a symbol to find out what my muse’s results were and whether I think it’s accurate or not. @dap-brown​

Send in 🧙 to see my muse’s Hogwarts House Result

Slytherin

Congratulations! You have been sorted into Slytherin, the house of cleverness. You have have ambition and you are very resourceful. House colors: Green and Silver House ghost: Bloody Baron House head: Professor Snape House founder: Salazar Slytherin House animal: Snake Your common room is located in Slytherin Dungeon. Have a magical year at Hogwarts!

Yeah, no, totally agree with this. Olivier is definitely clever, ambitious and resourceful! And family and family lines mean a lot to her!

Send in 🎭to find out which of The Four Temperaments my muse is

Choleric 21 Melancholic 5 Sanguine 4 Phlegmatic 11

Description of your temperament:

Your temperament is choleric. The choleric temperament is fundamentally ambitious and leader-like. They have a lot of aggression, energy, and/or passion, and try to instill it in others. They can dominate people of other temperaments, especially phlegmatic types. Many great charismatic military and political figures were choleric. They like to be in charge of everything. However, cholerics also tend to be either highly disorganized or highly organized. They do not have in-between setups, only one extreme to another. As well as being leader-like and assertive, cholerics also fall into deep and sudden depression. Essentially, they are very much prone to mood swings.

Aside from the deep and sudden depression, this seems to fit. She’s definitely ambitious and a leader. Aggression, energy and passion fit her too. She definitely dominates other people! And she is highly organized. She’s also definitely a great charismatic military leader, although her type of charisma plays to a different type then Mustang’s. I think this definitely fits her.

Send in 💖 to find out what my muse’s Love Language scores are

Words of affirmation: 10% Physical touch: 10% Acts of service: 37% Receiving gifts: 13% Quality time: 30%

YOUR PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE IS: Acts of Service

Can helping with homework really be an expression of love? Absolutely! Anything you do to ease the burden of responsibilities weighing on an "Acts of Service" person will speak volumes. The words he or she most wants to hear: "Let me do that for you." Laziness, broken commitments, and making more work for them tell speakers of this language their feelings don’t matter. When others serve you out of love (and not obligation), you feel truly valued and loved.

Oh yes, this fits. When the people she cares about or her men do things for her, to her its a sign of respect, loyalty, and a type of love. She’s busy and always moving, so to have people pick up tasks to keep them moving, to know that she can rely on others to do things so that she can keep forging their path ahead? That shows her more then anything that someone cares.

And on the quality time there, bc it is second highest, I see that too. But it’s more of a working side-by-side or working with her on her projects then just leisure time.

[slytherdaddy]

h e r o e s  always get remembered                                                 but y’know legends never die

𝖖 𝖚 𝖔 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

”Purity will always conquer.” ”The decay will feed the bloom.” ”These violent delights have violent ends.” ”He wore his hatred like a cruel second skin.” "You can romanticize me all you wish, but the devil wrapped in silk is still the devil.”

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy NICKNAMES: Lucius Malfoy has never been given a pet name in his entire life, because he is not well-liked by, well, anyone. Occasionally, when he did something flawlessly and earned praise from his father in his youth, he would get called ‘son’ affectionately. It’s happened four times, and they’re part of his top five happiest memories.  AGE: 28 BIRTHDAY: December 20th GENDER: Male PRONOUNS: he / him

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: PRISCILLA ERIDANI MALFOY ( deceased ) FATHER: ABRAXAS CEPHEUS MALFOY ( deceased ) SIBLINGS: none

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Hunter Parrish BUILD: Broad shoulders but otherwise slim; takes care of his body only to the capacity as he has to. HAIR: Short, as it should be; it is tradition for the patriarch of his family to cease cutting his hair as soon as they learn they have received a male heir to the name.  HAIR COLOR: Golden blond EYE COLOR: Emerald green SKIN COLOR: Pale white DOMINANT HAND: Left ANOMALIES: None; his skin is flawless, and he doesn’t bear a single scar aside from the garish black snake & skull tattoo on his left forearm. Lucius uses numerous illusion & glamour charms to hide the hideous thing at all times, and as a result, it always itches.  SCENT: Whatever cologne Narcissa has bought him for this season; usually trendy and... masculine? He would reek of clove & tobacco if he didn’t actively glamour charm away the smell each time he burned a cigarette. ACCENT: British, no local inflection ALLERGIES: None DISORDERS: Lactose intolerant; he takes a draught from the family Healer to supplement the calcium, his family riddled with a history of brittle bones FASHION: The most luxurious robes, all custom tailored fits to accent his shoulders; he prefers decadent silks & velvet, lace as an accent, all the buttons and snaps guilded with expensive precious metals. He has an expansive collection of rings and brooches, rare and ancient gemstones glistening from the box he keeps in his study, away from prying eyes. NERVOUS TICS: None; Lucius is in perfect control of his mind & body at all times. Any physical nervous tic would’ve been beaten out of him in his youth, anyway... He may have light OCD tendencies if he’s losing his shit, but it’s incredibly rare for a Malfoy to risk their impeccable reputation for composure in such a way.  QUIRKS: He’s got an addiction to nicotine that no one saw coming. The second investment of his ludicrous inheritance was into a tobacco plantation across the sea, where Lucius gets all his cigarettes hand-rolled by some dusty old wizard farmers making a literal killing off him. It’s worth it though, to be free of the shame of a Muggle vice by ensuring it’s decidedly not Muggle. The tobacco is mixed with Jobberknoll feathers & Mandrake leaves, an old wives’ tale that allegedly counteracts the effects of truth serums. Lucius just likes the taste.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: Yorkshire, Scotland, United Kingdom BORN: Yorkshire, again RAISED: despite being “raised” in Yorkshire, Lucius never actually spent any time with the common people, and he rarely even resided in Malfoy Manor until a year after his father’s death. He had always been abroad or at boarding school until he turned of age, and was in Myokonos when he received the news. He hasn’t left the manor since, the patriarch of the name never abandoning his stronghold. PETS: he doesn’t really consider the peacocks “pets,” as much as they are moving displays of his wealth. The closest thing to a pet he has are the house elves, although that’s too affectionate a term. 

CAREER: Advisor to the Minister for Magic, Public Relations; the position was held by his father at the height of his power in the Ministry, before his retirement. Although the Rosier patriarch wasn’t ready to follow suit, Harold managed to convince him it was for the best before giving the coveted title to the burgeoning Malfoy heir, following his 25th birthday.  EXPERIENCE: None; a very powerful last name & a more powerful father who called in a few favors, the least he could do for his son during his dying hour... or whatever. Although honestly, Lucius’ entire life is experience enough; he’s been manipulating others since he was in diapers, such was the art of his illusion.  EMPLOYER: The Minister For Magic; he was personally appointed, as it were, and Lucius answers to nobody in the Ministry other than him, so he doesn’t really believe himself included in their workforce as much as Minchum’s.

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Death Eaters BELIEFS: Traditional, conservative pureblood values - what more needs to be said? MISDEMEANORS: Nope. FELONIES: Nope.  DRUGS: Don’t be a prude, but don’t get caught. It’s a fine line to tread. SMOKES: Habitually, obsessively, constantly - use whatever adjective of choice, he feels no guilt for his only vice ALCOHOL: Publicly, he limits himself to one or two at functions; after he turned of age, Lucius had a bit of a problem, and the only regrets he bears are those two years until he sobered up. If he is drunk, he becomes affectionate, giggly, rosy cheeked.... It’s a terrible look on him, and he avoids it all costs. His father, however, had a sizable investment into a extravagant, private winery tucked away in Bordeaux, and several shipments sit waiting in the basement of the manor. It is the only wine he allows on the estate. DIET: A creature of habit, Lucius maintains the same diet seven days a week, the house elves on a strict schedule to adhere to unless alternative plans are made for parties or unexpected guests. It helps him remember

LANGUAGES: Ancient Runes, Latin, Greek, French, Italian - languages were an easy skill to pick up when he was always traveling or studying abroad

PHOBIAS: Irrelevancy, public shame or humiliation  HOBBIES: Lucius is well-versed in the classics, as expected of him by various boarding schools and his hard to impress father - painting, piano, & poetry were always his forte. The only hobby he enjoys for himself is reading, reading, and more reading; he enjoys the history of wizarding kind and his father has a vast library, filled to the brim and largely untouched still. All of Lucius’ free time is spent locked in the patriarch’s study, having a glass of red and pouring into anything he can before bedtime. The problem is he doesn’t have a lot of free time.  TRAITS: { + }: composed, calculative, confident, dependable, observant { - }: vengeful, manipulative, haughty, disingenuous, self-serving

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: France - the countryside, the cities, it doesn’t matter. He enjoys their flair for the dramatic. SPORTS TEAM: Montrose Magpies - he cares about Quidditch as much as he has to just to get by in polite conversation, and they’re the local team of his youth.  GAME: Wizard chess MUSIC: Abraxas was ever the elitist, and a near obsessive collector of all the finest things. The Malfoy Manor’s library has an entire vinyl section filled to the brim of ancient classical Wizard composers, musicians, and singers; his favorites were obviously inspired by the Baroquean era, but Lucius was always more swayed by the Romantics, and has contributed much time and effort into cultivating that part of the collection.  MOVIES: He does not know what those are. FOOD: Confit de canard BEVERAGE: A glass of Malfoy Merlot, if he must COLOR: White

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Slytherin WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 11 inches, stiff, elm & dragon heartstring; the wand is passed down to the male heir the night after his father’s death, and the son’s previous wand is destroyed to represent his ascension as the patriarch. It is to be kept inside a fabricated black casing with a snake head handle that measures at 18 inches & is capable of being placed in a cane, but the Dark object has long been lost to history. It’s Lucius’ deepest desire to locate the relic of his heritage one day.  AMORTENTIA: The smell of burning firewood & an unknown array of spices, with a hint of coffee. He doesn’t go near the bloody shit because he’d recognize that scent anywhere, and it often induces a blush only Firewhiskey can achieve.  PATRONUS: Cannot and will never be able to produce a Patronus BOGGART: Bellatrix, dead, corpse warped and reanimated as an Inferni

𝖈 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖆 𝖈 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral evil MBTI: INTJ-A MBTI ROLE: The Architect ( assertive ) ENNEAGRAM: Type Three ENNEAGRAM ROLE: The Achiever TEMPERAMENT: Melancholic WESTERN ZODIAC: Sagittarius CHINESE ZODIAC: Rabbit PRIMAL SIGN: Sugar Glider TAROT CARD: The Chariot TV TROPES: Classic Evil Villain, Billionaire Boys Club, Enemy In Plain Sight SONGS: Emperor’s New Groove - P!ATD, Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde, Kings - Tribe Society

IDEOLOGIES: History & time have both proven the validity of blood purity & its direct relevance to the power of a family’s bloodline. Love is weakness. Nothing fancy, nothing poetic - it’s just another attempt of man’s to qualm the suffering of the human condition. A distraction that only makes one vulnerable. No game worth playing is worth being exposed over. The best players exist in the shadows, without getting their fingerprints anywhere near the guilty party. There has never been a loyalty to Lord Voldemort; Lucius’ loyalty is confined to the Malfoy name alone. Fame, fortune, power, honor - anything to ascend the Malfoy name to the highest standard it deserves. The Dark Lord exists as a stepping stone, a revolving door, a temporary fix. As all great men do, he will eventually fall victim to his own hubris.  If you plan to ask for a favor, you better be able to look him in the eyes; if you plan to ask for forgiveness, you better already be on your knees. Lucius does not take kindly to insubordination nor disrespect. 

[blindrapture]

here’s some Ulysses

[ ] brackets are my notes. ( ) parentheses are the original stage directions. [Stephen is here at a brothel with “friend” Lynch. Kitty and Zoe are prostitutes. Stephen has been playing church music on piano, drunk off his ass. Click here for the song he’s playing, which scholars somehow managed to figure out. “The Cap” mentioned is Lynch’s cap. There is no prior context given to Stephen’s monologue. This is like fifty pages into the Circe chapter, not even halfway. Bloom has just entered the room, as have “we” the reader.]

(Kitty Ricketts bends her head. Her boa uncoils, slides, glides over her shoulder, back, arm, chair to the ground. Lynch lifts the curled catterpillar on his wand. She snakes her neck, nestling. Stephen glances behind at the squatted figure with its cap back to the front.)

STEPHEN: As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found it or made it. The rite is the poet’s rest. It may be an old hymn to Demeter or also illustrate Cœla enarrant gloriam Domini [”The heavens declare the glory of God.”]. It is susceptible of nodes or modes as far apart as hyperphrygian and mixolydian and of texts so divergent as priests haihooping round David’s that is Circe’s or what am I saying Ceres’ altar and David’s tip from the stable to his chief bassoonist about the alrightness of his almightiness. Mais nom de nom, that is another pair of trousers. Jetez la gourme. Faut que jeunesse se passe. [”Sow the wild oats. Youth must pass away.”] (He stops, points at Lynch’s cap, smiles, laughs.) Which side is your knowledge bump?

THE CAP: (With saturnine spleen.) Bah! It is because it is. Woman’s reason. Jewgreek is greekjew. Extremes meet. Death is the highest form of life. Bah!

STEPHEN: You remember fairly accurately all my errors, boasts, mistakes. How long shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Whetstone!

THE CAP: Bah!

STEPHEN: Here’s another for you. (He frowns.) The reason is because the fundamental and the dominant are separated by the greatest possible interval which...

THE CAP: Which? Finish. You can’t.

STEPHEN: (With an effort.) Interval which. Is the greatest possible ellipse. Consistent with. The ultimate return. The octave. Which.

THE CAP: Which?

(Outside the gramophone begins to blare The Holy City.) [click for audio!]

STEPHEN: (Abruptly.) What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller, having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self. Wait a moment. Wait a second. Damn that fellow’s noise in the street. Self which it itself was ineluctably preconditioned to become. Ecco!

LYNCH: (With a mocking whinny of laughter grins at Bloom and Zoe Higgins.) What a learned speech, eh?

ZOE: (Briskly.) God help your head, he knows more than you have forgotten.

This may look like an indication of why Circe has taken me so long to parse, but if you’ll believe this, this is easily one of the most straightforward parts of the chapter. I’ve had to expend a lot of effort elsewhere learning how Stephen’s mind works and what bank of knowledge he pulls his allusions from, so bits like this are a goddamn gem of clarity at this point.

Circe, see, deals with themes of magic, hallucination, transformation (since the Homeric Circe transformed Odysseus’s men into pigs). So here, at midnight, Lynch is “transformed” into his Cap, Kitty’s boa is “transformed” into a caterpillar (which Lynch lifts with his wand! like magic wand!), and even just literally speaking the novel is “transformed” into a play. And this chapter is packed full of lines, characters, entire scenes, that seem to come out of nowhere, seem to speak of unknown things, go on for dozens of pages, then abruptly vanish without even a single second of “actual real time” passing. This is used in many ways to allow the dead to speak, as if ghosts, sometimes speaking to specific characters but often seeming to speak directly to the reader. Reality and fantasy are very hard to delineate here. How much of the fantasy, like, represented something that actually happened, like a memory in Bloom’s head or an inanimate object personified? And how much of it does not represent but stands on its own, indicates something? That’s the hard part. And that’s why the above passage is refreshing to me, because all of it seems straightforward-- Stephen speaks, Lynch replies (”through” his cap).

Incidentally, most of Stephen’s speech here revolves around music, which is why I went and included those links for reference. He’s more or less describing what chord intervals were traditionally said to represent, at least in religious music (medieval, based on Greek), and he includes a mention that this music is meant to be able to be interpreted freely, that it can stand for a diverse range of things. Stephen seems to assert that this is a good and impressive thing, while Lynch’s replies seem less than impressed. (TRIVIA: Lynch’s “Jewgreek is Greekjew” apparently refers to some old slang, particularly Irish, where “Jew” meant a practical aesthetic and “Greek” meant a sensual aesthetic. The meek versus the beautiful, respectively. Considering how popular it was to deify Greek intellectualism at the time, this slang definitely contributed to the slurry of antisemitic ideology. Lynch is not being portrayed favourably here. Especially since Bloom is in the room.)

But it’s Stephen’s last bit which really gets me going. Let me quote it again for emphasis:

What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller, having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self.

For one thing there’s some transformation motif there, though the theological undertones suggest it’s something closer to transubstantiation. Note “a commercial traveller,” which, unbeknownst to Stephen, describes Bloom. But like. The idea being described here. To go forth to the ends of the world-- the extremes, the boundaries, the limits, the edges suggesting an unknown beyond even the “unknown” parts of the Earth! Or, if you like, to go forth to the ends of yourself, even past all the parts of yourself which are currently unknown to you, and to find that which is not you. And then to traverse that. To go forth and traverse that which is not yourself, and to be transformed into that which you have traversed.

Like. That’s. That’s some proper metaphysics there. That’s taking Catholic basis (God becoming incarnate as human, traversing humanity, all so he, a non-human, can speak for and die for humanity) and following it through to a pretty apotheotic conclusion. That’s suggesting that belief in God, when allowed to be explored and developed, implies a desire to become as God. (Which doesn’t have to be as blasphemous as it sounds. One can interpret entry into Heaven as becoming one with God, after all.) Just as a belief in power (as an acceptable defensible part of this world) implies a desire to become powerful. If the poor were to defend the rich, it would imply a desire to become rich. Conversely, if the rich were to defend and believe in the poor, it would imply awareness that even they can easily become poor.

Furthermore, I’d even say Bloom is as Irish as his neighbours are because Bloom has traversed Ireland as something outside himself, perhaps in a way his neighbours never did. The outsider, in traversing the inside, becomes the insider. And so what does that mean for the reader who traverses Ulysses?

...I won’t answer that question for you. Instead, I will quote Lynch from earlier in the chapter: “Pornosophical philotheology. Metaphysics in Mecklenburgh street!”

Anyway. I can’t claim this is definitely what Joyce intended. But is this the kind of thought he would welcome in his readers? Absolutely. I mean, his works are public domain now anyway, so his exact intentions aren’t as important as the implications of the words and systems that are there. And is this just a shallow introduction to the meat of this succulent feast of a book? Of course it is!

[silverfrostheart]

Help if you want jdhdhf

Here's this list of tarots major arcana bullhocky. I should note, in a fight, tarot can only use 5 cards at a time. So he's not OP lol. And he CAN run out of magic. But he's still quite strong and possibly gaster level? But Hey here's the list. It's incomplete but help if you want! I certainly need it -w-;;;;

1. The Fool

The Fool is traditionally both the first and the last card of the Major Arcana; in fact, the Major Arcana cards together comprise the Fool’s journey through life. The Fool represents new beginnings, excitement, courage, and potential.

The Fool is also full of advice that wouldn’t look out of place stenciled onto a lime-washed board and sold at a Hobby Lobby, things like “Believe in yourself and follow your heart” and “Have faith in where the universe is taking you.”

Like that one aunt, “The Fool is all about new experiences [and] personal growth.” He is also a little pouty, and appears to have been captured in the middle of saying, “It’s their loss!” The Fool has very fine bone structure.

The little white dog prancing dog at his feet is supposed to represent a “protector,” though it’s not sure from what, if anything, a nine-pound dog is qualified to protect you. “All the tools and resources he needs” for this trip are packed into a bindle the size of a bento box. He’s wearing yellow slouch boots and carrying a single white rose — it’s like using Goop to outfit an Everest ascent.

The Fool represents innocence, a kind word for stupidity. “He does not seem to mind if he does not really know what lies ahead,” which sounds like a really passive aggressive thing to write in someone’s yearbook.

Magic ability-portals

Character who represents this card- Underswap sans

2. The Magician

The Magician (whose more metal name is The Magus) is the first card of the Major Arcana. The Magician also symbolizes fresh starts and new beginnings, because 100% of people who ask for a tarot reading want a new beginning.

The Magician is driven and goal-oriented; he can “apply skill and initiative to accomplish all [his] goals.” His description reads like a performance review. He’s also wearing a snake for a belt.

The Magician card is holding a symbolic staff and making a symbolic hand gesture. He is holding symbolic tablets, wearing a symbolic robe, and standing hip-deep in symbolic flowers. Above his head floats the symbol for infinity. The Magician is like a junior high essay on The Scarlet Letter.

Magic ability- create sheilds/forcefeilds

Character who represents this card-Canvas

3. The High Priestess

The High Priestess “sits at the gate before the great Mystery” and “in front of the thin veil of awareness, which is all that separates us from our inner selves.”

If you’re the kind of person who’s into tarot, you are the kind of person who wants to draw the High Priestess card. On a “What tarot card are you?” quiz, the High Priestess is the card everyone wants to get. The High Priestess is the Elizabeth Bennet of tarot cards.

Moreover, her message is “trust your inner voice,” which is a message absolutely everyone wants to hear. No one goes to a tarot reader to be told, “Your instincts are totally wrong.” A tarot reader’s primary job is to be an enabler — in your heart you already know you’re going to quit your job to be a yoga teacher, you just want someone to tell you that teaching yoga is your destiny.

“Knowledge of how to fix [your problem] will not come through logic or intellect but through your intuition,” she says, which is a real load off for people not overly gifted with logic or intellect.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Tarot himself

4. The Empress

The card of feminine energy, the Empress represents fertility, beauty, and abundance. She may indicate either a physical or metaphorical pregnancy, which seems like something you should really nail down.

The Empress wears a bold patterned caftan she picked up in Yucca Valley. She’s sitting on a red velvet chair that looks like she found it on the sidewalk and tried to reupholster it herself. The Empress definitely uses the DivaCup.

Magic ability-Healing

Character who represents this card-Alterswap Toriel

5. The Emperor

The Emperor is the patriarch, the masculine seat of authority and power. The Emperor is paired with the Empress, even though he’s clearly at least thirty years older than she is. His expression is both scornful and wary, and he seems to suffer from mild rosacea.

The Emperor is seated on a throne “decorated with four rams’ heads, representing intellectual heights, determination, action, initiative, and leadership.” It is not at all obvious why rams’ heads should represent these things, and the last three sound like they were borrowed from Six Sigma.

Magic ability- Fire

Character who represents this card-Ferrell ( @jumpybox )

6. The Hierophant

The staid male counterpart to the much more fabulous Priestess card, the Hierophant represents institutional authority and established traditions. Like the Priestess, he is a religious figure, but in a much more orthodox setting.

No one is ever excited about getting the Hierophant, the middle school principal of tarot cards. If you were the kind of person who got excited about orthodox religious authority, you likely wouldn’t be getting your tarot read in the first place.

Moreover, the Hierophant offers good, boring advice, like “… follow due process and to stay within the conventional bounds of what is typically an orthodox approach. Instead of being innovative, you will need to adapt to the existing set of beliefs and systems that are already in place. You will need to do what is expected of you.”

But the Hierophant is not all bad. The card can also represent a wise mentor, someone like a priest, boss, or teacher. It also may represent a gateway to higher consciousness, as does without exception every other tarot card.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Aion ( @cutiegrumpycerym )

7. The Lovers

The Lovers card represents love, of course, and of the most rarified kind. The lovers share the deep emotional, physical, and spiritual connection you could expect from the kind of couple who calls themselves “lovers.” The two lovers stand among symbols of fertility and intimacy. The woman is gazing at the giant flaming angel in the sky, and the man is gazing at the woman’s pelvis.

The Lovers card also represents a crossroads, and the need to make a decision. “Unlike the Fool’s choice which has no wrong answer, the choice of the Lovers is very much right or wrong.” What’s more, “these decisions or choices are incredibly important and significant so it is essential that you choose the right path.” No pressure.

Magic ability-long distance communication with someone you care for

Character(s) who represents this card- Cross and Xchara

8. The Chariot

The Chariot represents will power, control, self-assertion, and victory. Also, in a refreshingly literal twist, the chariot can represent driving. The card is a real grab-bag of mystical symbolism, including stars, moons, alchemical symbols, and two extremely irritated sphinxes, the leftmost of which is actually rolling its eyes in disgust.

Everything the Chariot says, you can imagine being shouted through a megaphone: “this struggle will ultimately make you stronger!” “get in the race and win it!” “you have to dominate and beat the competition!” “assert yourself and be bold!” “pick up those knees!”

Magic ability-augmented speed

Character who represents this card-Mans (Spidertale Sans - @jumpybox )

9. The Hermit

The Hermit looks like a thinner, tanner Gandalf. He wears the grey cloak of invisibility. Having reached the snowy summit of his harrowing spiritual quest, he now looks sad and a little sleepy.

The Hermit represents being single and loving it. “Be content with being alone or associate only with those on your level,” the Hermit says emphatically over brunch. “Do not waste time and energy on those not ready or not worthy.” (cough, *Brian*) The Hermit is constantly posting about introverts on social media.

Magic ability-Invisibility

Character who represents this card-Chronicle ( @shigxx -I HOPE THIS IS OK AAA)

10. Strength

“The Strength Tarot card represents strength,” a popular tarot site helpfully explains, but unlike the amped-up jock jam sloganeering of the Chariot, Strength here means inner strength of character.

Strength is personified by a lovely woman wearing a long white dress wreathed in flowers giving a lion a comprehensive dental exam in what is surely a very specific fetish. “This lion is happy to submit and surrender to the woman,” who has tamed him with her strength of will and really on-point eyebrows.

Magic ability-augmented strength

Character who represents this card-Altertale sans

11. The Wheel of Fortune

The Wheel of Fortune represents life’s inherently cyclical nature. Sometimes things will go well, other times badly, but in the end, balance will be restored. The Wheel also represents karma, as well as fate and the external forces that control our destinies.

The Wheel of Fortune has absolutely everything you want in a tarot card, including an angel, a lion, a bull, a snake, a Sphinx, esoteric letters and symbols from several major world religions, and an eagle that looks like the artist started out trying to draw one thing and then changed their mind halfway through.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-

12. Justice

The Justice card represents justice, as one might expect, and more sternly, the idea that one gets what they deserve. Justice is all about taking responsibility for one’s self, and she gets a little blame-y: “your decisions and actions have long-term consequences and your present and future circumstances are most likely a result of these decisions and actions.”

Lady Justice sits on a throne, holding in one hand a double-edged sword; and in the other, a set of scales. She looks stern and unbending. “A little white shoe pops out from beneath her cloak, reminding us of the spiritual consequences of our actions,” in a note as charming as it is inexplicable.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Storyshift Chara

13. The Hanged Man

Like the Death card, the Hanged Man sounds much worse than it is. The card represents surrender: the man is described as a “willing martyr,” someone who sacrifices himself to a greater cause. The Hanged Man also represents a period of watchful waiting, and he is doing that waiting upside-down.

The Hanged Man is suspended from the World Tree, and “given the serene expression on his face, it is believed he is hanging on the tree of his own will.” (Really?) He may represent “letting go,” a thing you absolutely should not to when hanging upside-down from a tree.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card- Error/Eri/Geno

14. Death

Books that teach tarot reading advise readers to preface the revealing of the Death card with some variant of, “Now don’t freak out…” In fact, the Death card usually symbolizes a time of change, where one door closes and another opens. This can be a very positive thing, a time of renewal and new beginnings. Then again, sometimes the card symbolizes death.

Death here is a skeleton wearing a suit of armor that indicates death’s invincibility. He is riding a horse with a very small head and red eyes. A collection of disproportionately small people bow before Death’s inevitable slaughter as he regards them with a goofy grin.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Reaper (ofc)

15. Temperance

The Temperance card signifies calm, balance, tranquility, and avoiding extremes. Temperance is cautious, keeping one foot on dry land.

In her hands she holds two cups of water, one hot, and one cold, creating that mystical symbol of cosmic balance, tepid water. Supposedly, the water she is pouring is actually flowing backwards, from the lower cup to the upper one, though it’s impossible to verify that.

Magic ability-

Character that represents this card- Core frisk

16. The Devil

Unlike the Death card, which seems bad but is good, the Devil card seems bad and is bad. The Devil represents materialism, vice, and addiction. He controls our lowest, most animal desires. At his feet, a man and a woman are chained, in servitude to their baser nature. However, the chains are loose and they could slip their heads from them if they tried, indicating that their bondage is voluntary.

The Devil is more disappointed than terrifying, and his Satanic hand gesture is a dispirited wave. The chained lovers at his feet look dopey and complacent, gesturing towards the inky cave of the insatiable unconscious like it’s a showcase on The Price Is Right.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card- Fresh

17. The Tower

Following on Death and The Devil, the Tower is a very bad card. It symbolizes sudden catastrophe. After this time of chaos, new and better things may emerge, but that’s likely small consolation during your current era of unremitting disaster.

The Tower is a sturdy-looking building that probably seemed safe, but now it has been struck by lightning and it’s on fire, and the same lovers who were so dreamily enraptured on the Lovers card and so calmly drugged out when chained to the Devil are now plunging headlong to their ruin amid 22 symbolic flames. The man’s mouth is open with surprise, while the woman’s is pursed in anger, as if to say, “I warned you about the lightning.”

Magic ability- earth manipulation

Character who represents this card-

18. The Star

After the destruction of the Tower, the Star is all love and light. The card represents joy, kindness, hope, and faith — basically anything you’d want to embroider on a tea towel.

On the Star card, a naked woman is serenely pouring water from a clear, still pool onto the grass, where it runs off in five streams said to represent the senses. The woman is pretty but in an approachable way. Behind her is a field of stars and a tree in which roosts the sacred (if extremely crudely drawn) “ibis of thought.”

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Nebula

19. The Moon

One might assume the Moon would be a good card, suggesting femininity, fertility, and other mystically significant things, but in fact, the Moon is a mixed bag at best. The card represents intuition, but also subconscious fears and dark impulses. The Moon is associated with the eerie, mysterious elements of our unconscious minds, including recovered memories and nightmares.

The moon itself is upstaged by all the weird animals that are roaming around beneath it. A lobster crawls out of the depths of a dark pool, symbolizing the disturbing images that bubble up from our unconscious minds, and joins two dogs baying at the moon (some interpret these canines to be one dog and one wolf). Beyond the animals is a narrow path between two desolate towers. The moon wears the expression of someone who has just said their final word of an argument in bed and is now pretending to be asleep.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Nightmare

20. The Sun

The Sun is everything the Moon is not: open, positive, upbeat. Whereas the Star is serene and blissful, the Sun is way too chipper. The Sun played “Get Lucky” at his wedding. The Sun cheers for the kiss cam. The Sun likes to shout “I can’t hear you!” from the stage. The Sun means well, but all the other cards are embarrassed for him.

On the tarot card, the Sun itself looks a little embarrassed, pointedly averting his eyes from the spectacle below him: a naked, wreathed baby riding a white horse in front of a field of sunflowers, like the result of a dangerously escalating feud between Mary Engelbreit and Anne Geddes.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Dream

21. The Judgement

The Judgement card means judgement, not surprisingly, but also an inner voice, sudden realization, or higher calling. Judgment is about resolution, the cathartic climax to all of your struggles. The Judgment card also looks absolutely crazy.

The card shows a group of pallid, naked people rising up from their graves in a colorless, blasted landscape to the call of a trumpeting angel. The angel appears to be faking playing a trumpet, and not even faking it well. He holds the instrument stiffly while pointedly avoiding eye contact with the zombie cult members whose arms are upraised in worship of him.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-Outerfell asgore

22. The World

The World is the last card of the Major Arcana, and represents the summation of the journey begun by the Fool. After all the adventures of the past twenty-one cards, the World represents accomplishment, closure, and completion.

Unfortunately, the last card of the soul’s journey is also a bit of a mess. When you hear the phrase “the world,” many images may come to mind, but one them is probably not a dancing lady wrapped in a purple shawl, holding a baton in each hand, and surrounded by a lion, a bull, an eagle, and a human figure described as a “cherub” though he looks at least 28. The lady looks a little off-balance and more than a little drunk, which is perhaps not a bad symbol for closure after all.

Magic ability-

Character who represents this card-

[seirioscanis]

{ low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline }

.

𝖖 𝖚 𝖔 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.” -- Albert Camus

“We are unusual, tragic, and alive.” -- Dave Eggers

“I have a very childlike rage, and a very childlike loneliness.” -- Richey Edwards

“’Are you implying that shreds of my reputation remain intact?’ Will demanded with mock horror. ‘Clearly I have been doing something wrong. Or not something wrong, as the case may be.’ He banged on the side of the carriage. ‘Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel. I seek scandal and low companionship.’” -- Will Herondale, Clockwork Angel

“Many atrocities have been done in the name of the greater good.” -- Rhysand, A Court of Mist and Fury

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Sirius Orion Black NICKNAMES: Padfoot, Pads AGE: 20 BIRTHDAY: 3 November 1959 GENDER: Demiboy, not that he has the word for that PRONOUNS: he/they

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Walburga Black ( 55 ) FATHER: Orion Black ( 51, deceased ) SIBLINGS: Regulus Arcturus Black ( 18, deceased )

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Samuel Larsen BUILD: Slim and muscular HAIR: Shoulder length and thick, normally kept in a bun HAIR COLOR: Black EYE COLOR: Brown SKIN COLOR: Pale DOMINANT HAND: Right handed, teaching himself slowly to write with his left as well for the hell of it (note: the handwriting is still awful). ANOMALIES: a scar on his upper right lip, ironically a small cluster of star-shaped birthmarks on his left hip (which he hates), a few old cigarette burns on his knees SCENT: leather, old spice, barber shop hair gel, cigarette smoke, motor oil ACCENT: British ALLERGIES: slightly lactose intolerant DISORDERS: Major depression, generalized anxiety, PTSD due to childhood trauma FASHION: Punk rock baby, though probably a bit out of date compared to what muggles are wearing now. He took what he could get during school, and now there’s not enough time in the day to work, be in the Order, and go shopping. NERVOUS TICS: His body becomes more tense, and his eyes dart around the room to search for an exit (or several if possible). He also subconsciously takes a step back from whatever is making him nervous, occasionally messes with his hair to try and act casual (though he does that when he’s bored as well, so it has to be seen with one of the others to be considered a sign of his nerves). If he’s particularly high strung, he’ll lose his nerve completely and lash out, no matter if it’s good or bad for the situation at hand. QUIRKS: Like mentioned above, he messes with his hair a lot when he’s bored, usually pulling it out of its hair tie if up and vice versa if down. He paces when plotting, and purses his lips when he’s thinking considerably. When he’s particularly happy he’ll do a little jump, and he appears to be vibrating a little even afterward. When uncomfortable he’ll try to push that feeling off with either an argument or joke, again no matter whether one of those choices is the wisest at the time.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: Plainview Points Apartments BORN: St. Mungo’s Hospital RAISED: Grimmauld Place, London PETS: n/a

CAREER: Auror-in-Training EXPERIENCE: He was part of the Hogwarts dueling club for two years before being kicked out for unfair sportsmanship. He also got a considerate amount of training in magic from an early age thanks to his family, and his mother in particular taught him a bit of dark magic--or tried to. Not that he would use the dark magic, but if push came to shove... he has a few tricks up his sleeve (or, at the very least, the theory behind some of the darker magics). EMPLOYER: Ministry of Magic

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Order of the Phoenix BELIEFS: Sirius, without a shadow of a doubt, believes that muggleborns and halfbloods deserve to be equal to purebloods. It took him years to believe he was allowed to have that thought process, but he grabbed onto it once he did. Despite the years of unlearning what his family tried to instill in him, it wasn’t all successful. He does still have a superiority complex, and most definitely thinks himself above squibs, muggles, house elves, and so on. It takes more effort for him to respect their opinions as equal to his own, and though he knows that’s wrong, it’s taking a lot longer than he’d like to unlearn that--if he ever can. MISDEMEANORS: Illegal animagus, chase down with James on Elvendork, driving underage on an unregistered motorcycle, his entire list of detentions at Hogwarts FELONIES: Nothing officially on record, so really he’s as innocent as it gets DRUGS: n/a SMOKES: Way too much to be healthy for his lungs ALCOHOL: Not nearly as bad as his smoking habit DIET: Generally unhealthy because he can’t be bothered to cook

LANGUAGES: English, Latin, Spanish, Italian, French, some German

PHOBIAS: Extremely loud noises, snakes, thunderstorms HOBBIES: Causing general mischief, reading what he can get his hands on, doodling (albeit a bit crudely) TRAITS: { + }: loyal, intelligent, observant, quick-witted, sociable { - }: angry, impulsive, insensitive, defiant, pessimistic 

𝖋 𝖆 𝖛 𝖔 𝖗 𝖎 𝖙 𝖊 𝖘

LOCATION: Potter Estate, Prewett Household, Hogwarts SPORTS TEAM: Tutshill Tornadoes GAME: Wizard’s Chess MUSIC: Punk Rock, Celestina Warbeck (not that he’d tell a soul) MOVIES: Has hardly seen any, but is fond of action movies FOOD: Thai BEVERAGE: Whiskey or iced tea COLOR: Dark green

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Gryffindor WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 8 3/4 inches, slightly bendy, yew, rougarou hair core AMORTENTIA: honeysuckles, vanilla, cigarette smoke PATRONUS: Dog BOGGART: His parents standing over him shouting; recently with Regulus by their side asking why he had to die

𝖈 𝖍 𝖆 𝖗 𝖆 𝖈 𝖙 𝖊 𝖗

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good MBTI: ESTP-T MBTI ROLE: The Entrepreneur

“ ESTPs are energetic thrillseekers who are at their best when putting out fires, whether literal or metaphorical. They bring a sense of dynamic energy to their interactions with others and the world around them. They assess situations quickly and move adeptly to respond to immediate problems with practical solutions. Active and playful, ESTPs are often the life of the party and have a good sense of humor. They use their keen powers of observation to assess their audience and adapt quickly to keep interactions exciting. Although they typically appear very social, they are rarely sensitive; the ESTP prefers to keep things fast-paced and silly rather than emotional or serious. “

ENNEAGRAM: Type 8 ENNEAGRAM ROLE: The Challenger

” People of this personality type are essentially unwilling to be controlled, either by others or by their circumstances; they fully intend to be masters of their fate. Eights are strong willed, decisive, practical, tough minded and energetic. They also tend to be domineering; their unwillingness to be controlled by others frequently manifests in the need to control others instead. When healthy, this tendency is kept under check, but the tendency is always there, nevertheless, and can assume a central role in the Eight's interpersonal relationships. ”

TEMPERAMENT: Choleric

“  The choleric temperament is fundamentally ambitious and leader-like. They have a lot of aggression, energy, and/or passion, and try to instill it in others. They can dominate people of other temperaments, especially phlegmatic types. Many great charismatic military and political figures were choleric. They like to be in charge of everything. However, cholerics also tend to be either highly disorganized or highly organized. They do not have in-between setups, only one extreme to another. As well as being leader-like and assertive, cholerics also fall into deep and sudden depression. Essentially, they are very much prone to mood swings. “

WESTERN ZODIAC: Scorpio

“ Passionate, independent, and unafraid to blaze their own trail no matter what others think, Scorpios make a statement wherever they go. They love debates, aren't afraid of controversy, and won't back down from a debate. They also hate people who aren't genuine, and are all about being authentic—even if authentic isn't pretty. Because of all of these traits, a Scorpio can seem intimidating and somewhat closed off to those who don't know them well. But what people don't realize is that even though Scorpio may seem brusque, as a water sign, they also are very in tune with their emotions, and sometimes may find themselves caught up in their feelings. This leads to Scorpio's central conflict: Their feelings are what drives them and strengthens them, but their mutability can scare them and make them feel vulnerable and out of control. Because of this conflict, Scorpios, like their namesake, the scorpion, put up an outer shell and may seem prickly. But once people get beyond the shell, they find a loyal, loving person whose passion knows no bounds. Scorpio dives into all life has to offer with 110% enthusiasm. A Scorpio will be your most loyal friend, most dedicated employee—and your worst enemy, if they want to be. “

CHINESE ZODIAC: Year of the Pig 

“  Pig is mild and a lucky animal representing carefree fun, good fortune and wealth. Personality traits of the people born under the sign of the Pig are happy, easygoing, honest, trusting, educated, sincere and brave. The possible dark sides the Pig people are stubbornness, naive, over-reliant, self-indulgent, easy to anger and materialistic. They are sometimes regarded as being lazy. “

PRIMAL SIGN: Squid

“  Squids are powerful personalities that can only be ‘checked and balanced’ by themselves. They are highly capable, intelligent individuals who seem to know everything. Generally good natured, they also have a hidden inner dark side which resides deep within themselves. No one is allowed into this secret place, often not even themselves. Squids will even try to bury painful truths within themselves in order to avoid dealing with difficult emotions and situations. “

TAROT CARD: Justice, High Priestess

“ Justice and The High Priestess have in common that everything is accounted for. Justice examines everything for flaws in order to find its flawless essence. The High Priestess knows the secret of everything as it is in order to encompass everything. Justice demands of everything its true nature and essence, with nothing concealed, withheld or distorted. It tirelessly weighs and measures, satisfied with nothing less than the clear, the absolute, and the irreduceable in everything. Justice is adamant and uncompromising with its sword and scales, loud and clear in its redness, fearless and certain on its throne, guarding the entrance to the temple of the secrets of perfection. The High Priestess finds what is the same in everything, the secret unifying core hidden in the endless variation of detail. She patiently discovers in all differences what is true, original and undisturbed in everything. The High Priestess is accepting and inclusive with her scroll and cross, calm and quiet in her blueness, fearless and certain on her throne, guarding the entrance to the temple of final knowledge. Unintegrated and imperfectly realized, Justice can be given to rage and haste; it can become arrogant and hypercritical, aggrieved and vengeful, or uncertain and vacillating. The High Priestess can be a conceited know-it-all, moody and taciturn, secret and unapproachable; she can be despairing and lost, or given to excess and careless of consequences. Together, they dream of the perfect, the ultimate, and pursue it in more than one kind of undertaking. They continuously seek the truth, and in its service they are drawn to esoteric studies and unusual paths. “

TV TROPES: White Sheep, Jerk with a Heart of Gold, In the Blood, Hot-blooded, Good is Not Nice, Cultural Rebel, Badass Biker SONGS: Gasoline, Halsey; The Future Freaks Me Out, Motion City Soundtrack; This is the End (For You My Friend), Anti-Flag; Hate Conquers All, Anti-Flag; Downtempo, Scouting for Girls;

IDEOLOGIES: - Actively cuts out everyone who was part of his childhood unless they’ve somehow proven they can be trusted again; he avoids his family at all costs. - The day he found out he was lactose intolerant, however mild, was a mournful day. He sulked about Hogwarts for about a week. - Legitimately tried to swim to the bottom of the Black Lake and see the giant squid. Never succeeded. - If you bring peanut butter anywhere near him he will chuck it across the room. He hates it. - Genuinely enjoys being a dog more than a human sometimes. Yes, he’s aware of the irony.  - The only people allowed to make puns off of his name are James, Peter, Remus, Lily, and Marlene. He’ll get annoyed at anyone else who tries (also wise to avoid using the word serious around him for the above reason). - Keeps telling himself he’ll quit smoking someday. The likelihood of that actually happening is about slim to none, RIP to Sirius’ lungs.

[babylon-crashing]

martha the dominator

… from: Illes, Judika. “Encyclopedia of Mystics, Saints and Sages” (page 475-478).

Also known as Marta la Dominadora; Marta la Mala.

Saint Martha became extremely popular in the 12th century. The famous story about her taming the dragon told in the previous entry captured the public imagination. In Spain, by the end of the 12th century, the legend and the saint had transformed: Martha the Meek of Bethany evolved into Martha the Dominator, an erotic. dominatrix spirit invoked in romantic spells and commanding rituals.

This was never officially sanctioned and a\ways considered subversive. There are two ways of considering Martha the Dominator:

-She is an aggressive aspect of Saint Martha.

-She is not Martha of Bethany, but a distinct spirit, possibly a forbidden spirit addressed by the name of an officially approved saint.

According to legend Martha tamed a dragon (tarasque) that was laying waste to the French town of Tarascon. The town is named in the dragon's honor. No one could stop the predations of the tarasque, either by force or by magical or spiritual means, so Martha set out to try. She removed her girdle and the dragon willingly wore it, as an obedient dog wears a leash. Unfortunately, Martha could control the dragon, but not the crowd. When she led the tamed tarasque before them, the mob overwhelmed her and killed the tarasque, much to Martha's despair and grief.

Although some insist that there is only one Saint Martha, some Martha the Dominator devotees prefer not to consider her a saint—because they believe a saint will not do what Martha the Dominator is asked to do. Even in the 12th century, some perceived the associations between the character in the Gospels and the woman of folklore as tenuous. This Martha, completely divorced from sainthood, is sometimes called Marta la Mala. This literally means Martha the Bad or Martha the Wicked, but once had added resonance and implications. Spanish women accused of witchcraft back in witch-huntíng era were popularly called mala wufer (“wicked woman”).

Martha was perceived as the epitome of la inala mu)er: an aggressive, assertive woman ^vho used magic to attain her goals. Martha the Dorninator is a man-tamer. Spells invoking her help were recorded by the Spanish Inquisition.

-Martha is requested to bind men just as she bound the tarasque.

-Spells attempt to make a man follow the spell caster like an obedient puppy in the way that the tarasque followed Martha.

Is Martha really wicked? Inquisition records suggest that many of the women who invoked her feared the men they attempted to control by magic. These men were perceived as controlling and physically, emotionally, and economically abusive. Although not explicitly articulated, many women who sought Martha's expertise as a monster tamer did so because they perceived themselves as being at the mercy of monsters.

Martha is an Aramaic name translated as “Lady.” Perhaps adding to Martha the Dominator's formidable reputation, the Spanish variant Maria resembles the Spanish word for death, muerte. Santa Merta, an offshoot of Martha the Dominator, has emerged in the Dominican Republic. Although she is addressed as a saint, Santa Merta is considered a powerful demon. She is accompanied by snakes and a child.

Martha the Dominator retains her popularity and continues to help women with forbidden e spells and passions.

MARTHA THE DOMINATOR OIL

1. Using a mortar and pestle, grind spikenard root shavings, licorice root, the herb sweet flag (calamus), and myrrh resin together.

2. Add this to a jar or bottle and cover with olive oil.

3. Use this oil to dress candles dedicated to Martha, or carry a cotton ball soaked with this oil for spiritual protection and courage.

A traditional chant addressed to Martha the Dominator is incorporated into love spells.

1. Dedicate a green or purple candle to Martha the Dominator.

2. Scratch the name of the person whose love you seek into the wax.

3. Rub the candle with Martha the Dominator oil, all the while focused on your desire.

4. Hold the candle in both hands and chant: Saint Martha, conquer (desired persons name)/ Keep me in his/her mind.

5. Repeat the chant a minimum of three times, then light the candle.

ICONOGRAPHY: Images of Martha and the tarasque are traditionally used to represent Martha the Dominator. The snake-charmer image associated with the African crocodile goddess Mami Wata is now also used to represent her, especially in Latin American spiritual traditions.

[dripdripdropthebass]

“Shut up. Just shut the hell up for once. You think this is about me hating myself?!” Sasuke practically roared back in response to Juvia. “None of you at Fairy Tail know what it’s like to lose your entire clan in one entire night! You think I spent seven years training under that disgusting viper without knowing of his reputation?!” Ebony eyes flicker into the crimson of the Sharingan. “ I plan on killing that treacherous snake the moment he lets his guard down!”

(Continued from the next ask)

           Continued. “I left Fairy Tail because absolutely no one barring you would help me achieve my goals. Makarov told me it was a sin to kill and against guild policy to kill. Everyone keeps telling me to find different ways of bringing Itachi to justice. No fuck that. The only just way to deal with that man is to execute him like the traitor he is.  You talk about me not loving myself? How can I look in the mirror when all i see is a failure!? I lived to long while others died in my place!”      

---

“If you wanted Juvia to ‘shut up,’ then you wouldn’t have spoken directly to Juvia in the first place.”

Really, if you address her, she gon’ answer.

“And you are correct, we don’t know. Because all of us can only rely on our own life experiences when it comes to these decisions. But all of us wish to become stronger, do we not? But do you see us asking Orochimaru for assistance? Even if you did train under him for so long, it’s only a matter of time before he does something terrible to you. Again, what makes you different from the people he’s ruined in the past?

Juvia cannot stop you from killing your brother. I’ve accepted this, even though I don’t agree with it. But I can try and stop you from going to Orochimaru.

... A part of you wants Juvia to do that, right?

Because if there wasn’t some part of you that realized that this is wrong, why would you give Juvia the time of day in this conversation? You could defeat me in seconds with your lightning magic and leave this area. And yet, you’re not.”

Yep, that was the Sharingan. She knew that it could fuck her up, but... Nope. Nope. Stand your ground, Juvi. Assert some dominance and look him in the eye.

“Juvia cannot even attempt to understand the agony you’ve gone through. But under all that agony, you have a desire to love and be loved in return, don’t you? No one will judge you if you turn back from him now. You will be welcomed back with open arms.”