#Matilda effect

[coochiequeens]

By Rachel May

Rachel May, English professor and author, came upon Elizabeth Wagner Reed’s book about a decade ago, on Reed’s daughter’s website.

Published April 22, 2023Updated April 24, 2023, 10:50 a.m. ET

This article is part of Overlooked, a series of obituaries about remarkable people whose deaths, beginning in 1851, went unreported in The Times.

In 1992, the geneticist Elizabeth Wagner Reed self-published “American Women in Science Before the Civil War,” a book highlighting 22 19th-century scientists. One of them was Eunice Newton Foote, who wrote a paper on her remarkable discovery about greenhouse gases, “a phenomenon which is of concern to us even now,” Reed wrote.

Foote was forgotten soon after the paper was read aloud by a male scientist at a conference in 1856 and published the following year. A male scientist was eventually credited with the discovery.

Like Foote, Reed herself fell into obscurity, a victim of the erasure of female scientists that the historian Margaret Rossiter coined the Matilda Effect — named for the sociologist Matilda Joslyn Gage, whose 1870 pamphlet, “Woman as Inventor,” condemned the idea that women did not have the skills to succeed in the field.

Reed, however, made significant contributions to the sciences.

She wrote a landmark study about intellectual disability genetics, helped found a field of population genetics and wrote many more papers on botany, the biology of women and sexism in science.

Reed persisted in her research even when she found herself a widow with a toddler during World War II. By the time of her death, in 1996, in spite of publishing more than 34 scholarly papers, public school curriculums and two books, the record didn’t bend in her favor. It wasn’t until 2020, when the scientist and scholar Marta Velasco Martín published a paper on Reed, that her legacy was resurrected.

Reed was born Elizabeth Wagner on Aug. 27, 1912, in Baguio, in what was then called the Philippine Islands, to Catherine (Cleland) and John Ovid Wagner. John was from Ohio and worked in construction there at the time; Catherine, from Northern Ireland, was working in the Philippines as a nurse.

The family later settled on a farm in Ohio, where Elizabeth grew up picking raspberries “from dawn to dusk,” her son William Reed said in a phone interview.

“She learned how to work really hard,” he added. “I remember her saying how much she loved school, partly because it wasn’t doing farm work.”

At the end of one summer, he said, she used some of her earnings to buy a book about wildflowers in Ohio — “her first purchase was a scientific book.”

She would go on to cultivate wildflowers in her backyard as an adult, volunteer at a wildflower arboretum in Minnesota and write about botany in scientific articles and in educational materials for children. Reed’s daughter, Catherine Reed, told Martín that her mother “loved nature, especially plants, and, wanted to be a scientist from a very early age.”

In 1933, Reed earned her bachelor’s degree at Ohio State University, where she also earned a master’s in 1934 and a Ph.D. in plant physiology in 1936. She put herself through school with a scholarship and by washing dishes and working in the cafeteria. In 1939 and 1940, she published her first two papers, one about the effects of insecticides on bean plants and the other about how various types of dusts affect the rate of water loss in yellow coleus plants by night and day.

In 1940, she married a fellow scientist, James Otis Beasley, and had a son, John, with him just after James left to fight in World War II in 1942. When her husband was killed in the war the next year, she supported herself and her son by teaching at five different universities. “The first part of her life,” William Reed said, “was sheer determination.”

She began working with the geneticist Sheldon C. Reed, whom she married in 1946, and together they helped found the field of Drosophila population genetics, which uses fruit flies as a simple and economical method of studying genetics in a laboratory while offering important insights into similar species.

Soon after, the couple moved to Minnesota, where Sheldon was hired as the director of the Dight Institute of Human Genetics at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis. Elizabeth was denied a job at the university, which cited rules against nepotism.

The Reeds went on to write a book about intellectual disabilities that analyzed data from 80,000 people and their families; the study, they said, was “one of the largest genetic investigations so far completed.”

They found that disabilities could be caused by genetic or environmental factors and could therefore be heritable. They also proposed — to controversy that still exists today — that such disabilities were preventable through education of the general public and voluntary sterilization or birth control of potential parents with low I.Q.s.

Though Elizabeth’s name was listed first as author, a letter of acknowledgment calling the couple’s work “truly magnificent” referred to them as “Dr. and Mrs. Reed.” 

Reed was quite aware that her husband was receiving more credit, her son William said, but she never let it embitter her. In 1950, however, she published a paper on sexism in the sciences based on her study of 70 women working in the field. It found that marriage and childbirth decreased their productivity and sometimes even dissuaded them from continuing their careers. It led her to mentor women in the field through the advocacy group Graduate Women in Science.

“She was a scientist before it was popular for women to become scientists,” Nancy Segal, a psychologist at California State University known for her study of twins, said in an interview, “and she was a great role model for so many of us women postdocs at the time.”

In writing “American Women in Science Before the Civil War,”Reed corresponded with archivists and scoured card catalogs, journals and proceedings of associations and societies. In addition to recognizing Eunice Foote’s work almost two decades before other scientists did, the book included biographies of, among others, the astronomer Maria Mitchell; Ellen Smith Tupper, who was known as the “Queen Bee of Iowa” for her study of that insect; and the entomologist Mary Townsend.

Reed wrote that it was a testimony to the strengths of these women that they pursued science despite the fact that they were “often denied entry to colleges and unable to attain professional status.”

Reed also supported teaching children about science so that they would have the tools to solve what she called the “current crises of exploding populations and deteriorating environments.” She published papers about teaching proper scientific methods in schools and created curriculums with the University of Minnesota.

“Classrooms always house some living organisms,” she wrote, tongue-in-cheek, in the Journal of the Minnesota Academy of Science in 1969. “In many, unfortunately, all are of a single species, Homo sapiens. The population consists of many immature species (children) and a few adults, usually female (teachers). This makes for a certain homogeneity, but it can be alleviated by introduction of other living species, animal or plant.”

The fact that Reed was, like so many of her predecessors, lost to history is indicative of the pervasive sexism of her era. But women today continue to face hurdles in entering scientific fields. A report from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology this year found that “the underrepresentation of women in the science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) fields continues to persist,” with women making up only 28 percent of the STEM work force.

Like Reed, her daughter, Catherine, was a scientist, having earned a Ph.D. in ecology, but she ultimately became so disillusioned that she held a ceremonial burning of her degree and instead turned to artwork and championing her mother’s legacy. She published her mother’s book on American women in science on her website in about 2010. She died in 2021 at 73.

Elizabeth Wagner Reed died at 83 on July 14, 1996, most likely of cancer. She recognized her symptoms, but, knowing what the treatments would be like and, to her mind, the probable outcome, she never sought a diagnosis. (Sheldon Reed died in 2003.)

William Reed said there was no joy like taking a walk with his mother, who could describe every plant and animal they passed. She and Sheldon were avid bird-watchers (and occasional polka dancers), and the family spent many vacations at Lake Itasca, Minn., relaxing under old-growth Norway Pines.

Reed’s favorite flower was the showy lady’s slipper, the state flower of Minnesota, an orchid notoriously difficult to cultivate, like the careers of many of the women she wrote about. Its Latin name is Cypripedium reginae, with reginae meaning queen.

[grandwretch]

im literally so obsessed w/ sonetto btw like something about her being the perfect child soldier and being so excited to be a martyr but then when she gets older she starts to yearn for the outside world and softness and humanity and rebellion because she can't be a perfect robot forever but then when she's reunited w/ vertin, vertin needs her to be a perfect soldier, and vertin is so sad, and none of that excitement is in her anymore like aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh sonetto just wants to be free and her one chance of freedom is slowly dying in front of her. watch me fucking lose my SHIT

[wonder-worker]

"Any assessment of the emotional component of the reconciliation of [Empress Matilda and Geoffrey of Anjou] remains speculation: the chroniclers are silent on the issue of whether [they] grew to love, hate, or like each other. We do know, from their movements and actions, that Matilda and Geoffrey eventually arrived at a businesslike arrangement with a united viewpoint toward the dynastic, geopolitical goals that had dictated their marriage in the first place."

"Matilda and Geoffrey effectively transitioned from a Divide and Rule model to a Collaborative Union from 1144 onwards, in which they worked together throughout their marriage to ensure rulership over their territories and gained their rightful lands, as well as ensuring the inheritance for their children. Matilda and Geoffrey’s political partnership can effectively be argued as the most successful through applying different models of rulership. Ultimately the Plantagenets regained Matilda’s inheritance through Henry, conquered Normandy, and produced several male heirs."

Charles Beem, The Lioness Roared: The Problems of Female Rule in English History / Gabrielle Storey, Co-Rulership, Co-operation and Competition: Queenship in the Angevin Domains, 1135-1230

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

@hilda-appreciation-week Day 5 - Favourite Relationship(s)

Kaisa + Tildy

Who is the witch she taught her to be, anyway? 🧐

Uncoloured versions under the cut

[trustherkindheart]

Australia strikes first!! 😮😮

[redladydeath]

I thiiiiink I've gotten my Seven patterns down

[russellsppttemplates]

Lando calling his wife "lovie" got me 🥹🥹🥹

And just the image of him cooing about a milk drunk baby is enough to send my ovaries into combustion!

Would you maybe write a little bit more about it, like maybe Lando posting or sending his family pictures of his milk drunk babies because he thinks it is the cutest/funniest thing?

Note: you and me both, anon!

"Tell me this isn't the cutest, squishiest face you have ever seen!", Lando groaned softly as he admired your babygirl while he walked in the Silverstone paddock, "I have to admit that's a pretty cute baby", Ted said into his microphone.

"Pretty cute? Tilly is the cutest", Lando stated, adjusting the hat on her head to shield her face from the sunshine that graced his home race weekend, "she has her tummy full and she was out like a light, nothing can bother her, she's in her own little world", Lando smiled, delighting everyone who saw the infections of the new father and his babygirl.

"It's extra special, no? Your home race, your family is here - the youngest Norris is here too - and a pole position that by the looks of it could get you a home race win", Ted wondered.

"Yes, it definitely is, we're not taking anything for granted until we race, obviously, but the spirits are definitely high", he smiled, kissing Matilda's cheek as she made a little noise, "I had another question to ask you but this little one made it fly out of my brain, actually", Ted chuckled as he shook his head.

"She usually has that effect on people, you can't really pay attention to anything else", Lando smiled proudly.

.

"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", you said as Lando stepped out of the en suite bathroom, crawling up to you in bed and stroking the baby's soft cheeks, "He's so sleepy, look at him", you cooed, "he fell asleep with my nipple still in his mouth, I barely got a burp out of him before he was knocked right out", you smiled.

"We make really cute kids, don't we, lovie?", Lando said, resting his head on your chest and facing Fraser, and from your point of view, it was clear this baby would become a Lando clone soon enough.

"So far, they all look the most like you, so you're really just tooting your own horn", you scoffed playfully, "these cute cheeks and pouty lips, lovie? They're all you", Lando charmed, making you blush.

.

"Can you give her the bottle, please?", you asked Lando, "I need to make sure Matilda is not doodling instead of doing her homework", you kissed Lando's lips and baby Charlotte's cheek.

"Let's warm this up for you, babygirl", Lando said as he put the milk in the bottle and popped it in the warmer, "you're hungry, aren't you? And fighting sleep so I've heard - you gave mummy a full on afternoon", he giggled, pulling funny faces as she giggled at her father's antics.

"Off we go then, open up - there we go, Lottie", he smiled as she suckled, finally get her tummy full as he walked around bouncing her, "hopefully you'll sleep because you really need it, and that way you can also give mummy a little bit of a rest, just so enough me and her can have a cuddle, you know?", he playfully tsked, "you've been stealing all of my cuddles", he giggled as he looked at her precious face. Life had been generous enough with him - he had the woman of his dreams, a career he loved and their three little ones. Life was good.

After burping Charlotte, Lando rocked her to sleep, which didn't prove to be very hard as she was milkdrunk as ever, her little mouth opened as she rested on his chest.

"Tilly is doing fine and Fraser is happily playing with his toys", you said as you sat down on the sofa next to your husband, your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, "take a picture of this cute face and send it to the groupchat, please", Lando whispered as he gave you his phone so you could dot it.

Lando: Look at this cutie 🥰

Flo: Look at her chubby cheeks, I can't!

Cisca: She looks so out-of-it-milkdrunk, I bet she's having a good nap!

Lovie: Seeing her like this almost makes it look like she wasn't wide awake the whole afternoon - she never closed those big eyes, she was always staring at me!

Adam: look at our little girl 😍

"You're so loved, babygirl", you said, brushing the hairs on her head, cuddling closer to your husband.

"Finally I am the one getting a cuddle from mummy", Lando cheered, kissing your lips, "jealous much, handsome?", you teased, "just wanted a cuddle from you, woman! This one has hogged your boobs from me - I have to take what I can get!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[writing-intheundercroft]

Falling Hard

Summary: A story about how Garreth fell first (literally and figuratively).

Word Count: 5,416

Rating: T (boner alert, but that’s about it)

A/N: Thank you to @cuffmeinblack and @ellivenollivander for arranging @garrethweasleyfest!! And a special thank you to whoever submitted banana peel as a prompt lmao

Read on AO3

Garreth Weasley laid flat out in the center of the Great Hall, staring at the candle lit ceiling. He could hear laughter echoing around him, and a sharp pain radiating through the lower half of his back. Garreth shut his eyes tightly, wishing he was anywhere but the middle of his school dining hall, spread-eagle with banana pith on his heels.

He supposed he deserved this, after all.

And then, Garreth felt her hands cupping his cheeks, the soft pads of her fingers brushing his chin. When he opened his eyes, he blinked heavily, her face hovering over his. Wisps of her hair brushed his skin as she leaned over him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Okay, he would survive this. Especially if it meant being in this close of proximity to her.

“You’re an idiot, Garreth.” She shook her head, staring down at him with wide eyes.

He smiled up at her, blinking to clear his eyes. She was kneeling, hands flat on the ground at both sides of his face. He could smell her, the faint hint of mallowsweet lingering over her distinctive perfume. If he craned his neck up, he could probably kiss her—

“Yeowch,” Garreth groaned, a sharp pain crackling through his head like lightning. The sensation was enough to drive him back down to the ground, grasping at the flagstone floor. She shifted her hand, this time to cup the back of his head. He heard her inhale sharply, examining reddened fingertips.

”Is that blood?” He asked weakly.

Leander scampered forward, gasping when he saw his best mate’s current state. She was frozen at his side, fresh blood dripping down her hand.

“Somebody call Blainey!”

It sounded like Natty. Leander sat at his side, bracing Garreth’s head in place. He tried to move, to pry himself from the other redhead’s grasp, but the sharp pain returned. Someone was saying something to the effect of conjuring towels, and he saw her sit up, the offending yellow culprit in hand.

Fuck bananas, Garreth thought. Horrible stringy fruit. Who even liked bananas anyways?

She did. She’d always bounce over from her table, snatching a banana from the fruit bowl closest to him. She’d smile, say good morning, and that interaction would make his entire day.

”Garreth,” he heard her voice. He tried to crane his neck upwards again, but the ringing continued in his ear.

And then he passed out.

“I can’t believe you,” Aunt Matilda huffed. “Seriously Garreth, cracking your skull a week before graduation. Your mother will have my head.”

”I’m sorry,” Garreth repeated for the umpteenth time, wincing as Blainey wrapped another bandage around his noggin, flattening down his red hair. It was late afternoon already, and he’d missed the majority of his classes. With exams on the horizon, few of his friends had the free time to sit by his side. Therein, he was sequestered to his hospital wing bed with only his aunt for company.

“Garreth, you’re nearly a grown man and I still have to mind your behavior.” his aunt snapped. “How can an employer take you seriously when you’re still acting like a third year? Let alone a woman—“

”I get it, Aunt Tilly,” Garreth grumbled. “I have to wisen up.”

His Aunt Matilda’s face softened, lips pursed as she gave him a flat lipped smile. “I know the final days of term can be stressful. I just don’t want to see your talent wasted on trying to be remembered as a goofball.”

Garreth wasn’t trying for anything in particular—in fact, his stunt in the Great Hall had been an attempt to get everyone to forget what he’d blurted out in the heat of the moment.

Someone cleared their throat; Garreth and his aunt turned their heads to see Nurse Blainey standing next to the fabric partition.

“Visitors for Mr. Weasley,” she announced, gesturing to the now visible doorway.

”Oh thank Merlin,” Garreth wheezed, sitting up. He smiled weakly at Natty and Leander, who were walking into the hospital wing with his textbooks and assignments in their arms.

”Sorry it took us so long,” Natty said apologetically. “Had a double potions session with Sharp.” She dumped Garreth’s book bag onto the bed, books and papers spilling out the top.

”Thank you for bringing his homework,” Aunt Matilda said kindly. She redirected her attention back down to Garreth, eyes narrowing. “Now, don’t get into any more mischief, young man. I’ll be back in the morning.”

”Yes, Aunt Tilly.” Garreth said dully, crossing his arms. Natty and Leander watched the deputy headmistress walk out of the hospital wing, disappearing down the stairs.

”How do you feel?” Leander asked, pulling up a chair. Natty sat at the end of the bed, rearranging his book bag.

”Like shit,” Garreth grumbled, rubbing his head. “Cracked my skull, remember?”

“While skele-grow works wonders, I’m sure it can’t taste all that good.” Natty winced, shivering at the thought. “What did it taste like?”

”Chalk,” Garreth tapped his chin. “Think I blacked out all over again while taking it.”

Leander snorted, opening his own book bag to deliver a pumpkin pasty wrapped in a napkin. “I know the hospital wing food is tragic, don’t eat it all in one go.”

”What’s the damage then?” Garreth asked, swiping the pasty from Leander’s outstretched hand. He took a big bite, chewing thoughtful as his eyes flitted between his two friends.

”It’s fine—“

”Awful, mate.”

Leander and Natty shared similar sharp glances at one another.

“Alrighty then,” Garreth wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Give me the play by play, what people are saying.”

”Well,” Natty said hesitantly, playing with the end of one of her braids. “People are saying you’ve…er, gone a bit mad.”

”Me?” Garreth balked. “Gone mad? Over a banana?”

”It’s not just the banana.” Natty sighed. “It’s how you were speaking to her.”

”To her?” Garreth posed the question, still confused.

”Well, you sort of shouted at her.” Leander said slowly.

”I did not shout at her,” Garreth retorted.

Natty winced. “Yeah, afraid you did.”

Garreth blinked, trying to remember exactly what had happened at breakfast that morning. “I…I shouted at her?”

”She came over to the table to take a banana, like she always does.” Leander recounted. “And you asked her to sit with us. She just about did—“

”Until Sallow yelled at her to come back and sit with him and Ominis.” Natty finished his sentence. “You kind of lost the plot then.”

”I don’t remember this at all,” Garreth groaned.

”I think that’s for the best.” Natty said reassuringly, patting his hand.

“No, tell me more.” Garreth beckoned them forward. “Tell me how bad it was.”

”You sort of…well, you got into it with Sallow, told him off for interrupting you. And you both stood up at the front of the table, got in each other’s faces. And then, Sebastian yelled—“

This part Garreth remembered. It came back to him like a punch to the gut.

It’s almost like you’re in love with her, Weasley.

“Fuck,” Garreth swore. “I told everyone I was in love with her.”

Leander and Natty shared a painful glance with one another. “Just about. I mean, really, you were screaming it, so I’m not sure everyone truly understood.” Natty offered.

Leander scoffed. “It was pretty easy to put two and two together, Nat.”

Garreth buried his face in his hands as the memory formed in his head. Completely red in the face at Sebastian’s remark, he stared at the Slytherin with balled up fists. Garreth had stepped up, puffing his chest out as he blurted out his confession.

Maybe I am, he’d shrieked. IkindofsortofamkindofinlovewithherandI’vebeeninlovewithhereversinceourfifthyear.

”Merlin’s saggy tits,” Garreth muttered, hanging his head low. “I need to move continents.”

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” Natty assured him. “It’s the last week of school, everyone who didn’t hear you will just assume you had—“

”A mental break?” Leander interjected. “That’s plausible. What’s not plausible is the fact that he decided to throw a bloody banana peel and crack his own skull open.”

“It was for comedic effect,” Garreth argued. “To uh, deflect the problem at hand.”

”Joke went out the window when everyone saw your blood on the floor.” Leander pointed out.

Garreth slumped in his bed, a hand flying up to adjust the gauze bandage around his head. He opened his mouth, shutting it rapidly as he tried to form his next thought without making his brain explode.

”It seemed like the best possible plan at the time.” He said miserably.

”It was funny at first.” Natty shrugged. “Don’t dwell on it, Garreth. Peeves has already stopped singing about it.”

Garreth ripped his pillow out from behind him, screaming into the feathered cushion.

”I told you we shouldn’t tell him that part.” Leander muttered.

Hogwarts was known for its decadent meals, but that service didn’t seem to translate up to the food offered in the hospital wing. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night and Garreth was still playing with his spoon, dragging it back and forth the cold, half-empty bowl of chicken broth a house elf had brought in for him. He wished he hadn’t been so quick to finish the pasties Leander had smuggled in for him.

“You should eat, Mr. Weasley.” Nurse Blainey clucked. The school nurse was clad in her pajamas, hair set in curlers as she prepared for bed. “Your bones will heal faster if you’re properly nourished.”

”Not much nourishment in this soup,” Garreth wrinkled his nose.

Blainey ignored his complaints, instead brushing the edge of her robe. “Now, it’s lights out, Mr. Weasley. I’ll leave you with your tray, but otherwise you should get your rest. I’ll be in my office; should you need me, just ring the bell.”

Blainey disappeared behind the partition; Garreth could see the outline of her walking back to her office, waving her wand to dim the lights. The door clicked shut, and all that was left in the hospital wing was poor old Garreth and his bowl of cold broth. He winced as he shifted in the creaky bed, setting the tray down on the bedside table. If he was going to be stuck here all night, he might as well get a good night’s rest before facing ridicule from the entire student body.

”It’s only one more week,” Garreth mumbled to himself, pulling the woolen blanket up to his chin. A singular week separated him from graduation. In seven days, he’d be a free man. Free to explore the world, to finally start the research on his potion ingredient almanac the way he’d planned on doing his entire school career.

A week before he’d likely never see her again.

Garreth turned on to his side, groaning. Perhaps that was for the best, he thought. He probably frightened her. That, or at least made her think he was completely off his rocker. Who in the right mind would shout their undying love, followed by trying to annihilate oneself with a banana peel?

Fuck, he’d never live it down. The ghosts would tell stories of his tragedy for years to come.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d responded. If she had understood his ramblings (which Leander had confirmed to be an unmistakable declaration of love), she hadn’t visited him in the hospital wing at all during the day. He’d been optimistic earlier, after Natty and Leander left for supper. But with every passing hour, Garreth lost a little bit of hope that his affections might be returned.

How could she love him, he thought. They were friends, that’s all. It was his own fault he’d taken the bait from Sallow, who’d given him that annoyingly smug face at the breakfast table.

Garreth was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice the footsteps, or the creak of the partitions being moved. He only became aware of a second body in the hospital wing when the mattress dipped. He furrowed his brow as he looked over his shoulder, blinking at nothing.

”What the?” He grumbled, sitting up.

“Revelio,” a familiar voice muttered.

“Bloody hell,” Garreth gasped. He clutched his heart, as if it were going to beat right out of his chest at the sight of his crush materializing out of thin air at the edge of his bed.

She smiled at him, wild hair flying around her face as she dropped her wand onto the blanket. “Hi.” She whispered, nudging his legs. “Scoot over.”

”What are you doing here?” Garreth whispered, eyes wide.

Figured you could use some company.” She said nonchalantly, smoothing out the edge of her dressing gown. “And some snacks—the hospital wing food is atrocious from what I can remember.” She reached down to her little purse, undoing the flap. Garreth stared at her in confusion as she shoved her arm down to the elbow.

”Undetectable extension charm,” she murmured, pulling her arm back out to reveal a tin can. “Here, eat this.”

Garreth looked down at the tin, which she’d placed in his hands. Banana flavored candies from Zonko’s.

“What are you doing here?” Garreth repeated, peering up at her through his copper lashes.

She gave him a funny look. “I’m here to see you, silly.”

”But why now?” Garreth insisted. “You had all day.”

”Excuse me, I had a full diary today. I wasn’t factoring a trip to the hospital wing in the schedule.” She scoffed, handing him a chocolate bar from Zonko’s. “Classes, studying for NEWTs, some errands for a few folks in the highlands, checking in on the shop.” She herself opened a tin of licorice, tipping it his way as an offering. “The usual.”

Garreth gladly took a piece. “You do too much, you know.” He pointed out, followed by a big bite. “I have no idea how you manage.”

She shrugged, playing with the edge of the blanket. “I just want to be helpful while I’m still around the highlands. Who on earth is going to help these villagers with all their tasks when I’m gone?”

Garreth chuckled, shaking his head. “You do too much.”

She chewed on the candy, eyes twinkling. “I know I do.”

”And you should probably be sleeping,” Garreth pointed out. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. “Merlin’s beard, it’s nearly midnight. You’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

She swallowed thickly. “I just wanted to see that you’re okay.”

Garreth felt his face heat up in a blush. “I’m fine,” he sighed exasperatedly. “Just a bump.”

She raised her brow. “A bump? Garreth, you were in a puddle of your own blood.”

”My own fault.” Garreth pointed out. “As everyone has reminded me.”

She shook her head, fighting a laugh. “Garreth Weasley, only you would try to take yourself out with a banana peel the week before graduation.”

”It’s pathetic.” Garreth wrinkled his nose.

”It’s hilarious,” she said sternly, wagging a finger in his face. “But I must plead with you to be more careful with yourself.”

Garreth chewed his bottom lip, avoiding her gaze. He instead focused on the woven pattern of the blanket, pulling on the frayed edge. “I thought I might have scared you.”

She tilted her head. “Scared me? How so?”

“Because I said some things…perhaps I screamed them at you, I don’t quite remember.”

Her face softened, and she tilted his chin up to look at her. “Sebastian can be cruel sometimes, I don’t want you to take it to heart. He felt awful, you know. I gave him a proper scolding afterwards. He didn’t mean to egg you on like that.”

She’d completely glazed over the confession, Garreth noted. A clear sign of her feelings towards him. Just friends, that’s all they were. They’d been friends since she arrived at the beginning of fifth year—she’d been the only person brave enough to sneak into Sharp’s office to get him a fwooper feather, and then she’d boldly traversed the One Eyed Witch passage to gather him some billywig stings. Letters exchanged over the summer holidays, stolen glances across the cauldron from one another in Sharp’s seventh year seminar. He’d memorized the sound of her laugh from all their shared classes, always endeavoring to make her giggle at least once every lesson. And for the last year, she’d volunteer to be his partner every night in Astronomy, shivering together as they charted their stars.

But, there was Sebastian.

Garreth had nothing against the chap, except for the fact that he was a Slytherin. In fact, he and Sebastian had quite a jovial acquaintanceship going before she arrived. But as soon as they’d returned for their sixth year, things seemed to change. Sebastian was more withdrawn, keeping to himself more than ever after his uncle’s death. And she stayed at his side, always fussing over him at meals or passing notes with him during study periods. It was the kind of treatment one would reserve for a loved one, an intimacy Garreth could never seem to cross with her.

Sebastian always hogged her, especially at meal times. She only ever left his side at breakfast to get her daily fruit from the Gryffindor table, exchanging pleasantries and a kind smile with Garreth in exchange. If he were lucky, they’d have time for a cup of tea between classes. On even luckier days, he might catch her walking home from Hogsmeade, electing to take the long way home just to hear her speak.

Even if she was taken, his crush on her grew stronger, made even more alluring by how unattainable she was.

”It was stupid of me,” Garreth mumbled, pinching the blanket. “To say all that in front of your boyfriend.”

She wrinkled her nose. “My boyfriend?”

”Yeah,” Garreth sighed. “Sebastian.”

Her eyes softened once more, and she took her hand in his.

”Garreth,” she said carefully. “Sebastian and I—we’re not together.”

Garreth looked up at her in confusion. “You’re not?”

”He’s just my best friend,” she murmured. “He’s had it tough the last two years, and perhaps I’ve babied him a bit too much. But trust me when I say there is absolutely nothing between us. He’s like a brother to me, Gar.”

”A brother,” Garreth repeated.

”A brother who is very protective of me,” she chewed on her lower lip. “Especially around a boy who might like me.”

“Yeah,” Garreth breathed in sharply. “A boy who might like you very much.”

She started to trace a circle in the palm of his hand. “And if I’m to believe the confession he gave at breakfast this morning, a boy who might love me.”

Garreth gave her a weak smile. “It’s stupid, I know. We’ve hardly had time together, let alone to properly…uh, properly grow those feelings. But it’s true.”

”It’s not stupid.” She shook her head. “Not when I feel the same way.”

Garreth sat up straighter, sucking in sharply when he felt his head ringing. At this point he wasn’t sure if it was the wound or the blood pounding in his head from her own confession.

“You should lay down,” she said, coaxing him back into the bed. “I’ll lay next to you, okay?”

Garreth scooted over to the edge, letting her slip under the covers next to him. He felt as if he was dreaming—his wildest dreams coming true, having the object of his affections curled up into him a week before graduation? He pinched himself as they shuffled on the small bed frame, getting closer.

“You like me,” Garreth said slowly as the top sheet fell over their heads.

”I like you,” she affirmed. “Have for a while, actually.”

”Since when?” Garreth asked, feeling his heart drop into his stomach.

”Since the party at the end of fifth year,” she confessed. “When you let me try fizzing whizzbeer. You…uh, you put your arm around me and kissed me on the cheek. Said you couldn’t have done it without me.” Her face was pink, flushed from her own confession.

“Merlin, I’m an idiot.” Garreth groaned.

”Just a bit,” she snorted. “I tried to drop so many signs. Why else did you think I wanted to be your partner all the time in Astronomy?”

”Because I’m good at Astronomy?”

“Garreth, you’re terrible at it.” She chuckled. “I kept trying to cuddle up with you, but you were always speeding to get the star charts done as fast as possible so we could go to bed. I thought—I mean, I took that as a sign you weren’t interested.”

Garreth’s eyes widened. “That was why you kept wearing such thin cloaks to class?”

”I wanted you to put your arm around me.” She retorted.

Garreth tilted his head, putting two and two together. Now it made sense why she was always shivering, backing into him as they took their evening class. She’d once stepped right between his legs, her backside pressed right against—

Shit. He was an idiot.

”We’re bad at this flirting thing, aren’t we?” She tilted her head.

”Awful at it,” he moaned. He lifted his hand, letting it rest on her hip. She seemed to like it, melting into his touch.

”Sebastian was getting so frustrated hearing me whine about you.” She murmured. “I think that’s why he was pushing you so hard this morning. I think he and Ominis had a bet you’d say something before graduation, and Seb didn’t want to lose his galleons.”

”I’ll have to thank Sallow then,” Garreth pointed out. “For helping me across the finish line.”

“You shouldn’t, his head can’t stand to get any bigger than it already is.” She chuckled. Garreth could feel her breath on his cheeks, and his eyes fluttered at the sensation.

”So, you like me.” Garreth repeated. It felt like a mantra he had to repeat over and over again, lest it not be true.

”And you love me.” She said coyly, lifting her hand to touch his cheeks. When her finger brushed against his lips, he pressed a tentative kiss against them. ”You love me enough to save me a banana every morning.”

”It sounds silly, doesn’t it?” Garreth murmured, his grip tightening on her waist. She shifted closer to him, legs tangling between his.

She looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering as the hand on his cheek drifted upwards to touch the bandage around his head.

“Does it hurt?” She asked.

Garreth shook his head a little. “Just a scratch.”

“That’s a shame,” she pouted. “I was hoping to help you feel better.”

“Oh no,” Garreth blinked heavily. “Oh, it’s actually so painful.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes. “Does it now?”

”So painful,” Garreth groaned, feigning dramatics. “I don’t know how I’ll ever carry on.”

Her hand snaked around his head, fingers threading through his copper hair. She scratched his scalp, and Garreth leaned into her touch in return.

“I’ll make it better,” she said coyly, nose brushing against his.

Garreth had kissed other girls before, but nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of kissing her. He just about moaned into her mouth when her lips touched his, melting into her touch. He immediately tried to roll over, to cage her underneath him against the mattress, but his body had other ideas.

”I can’t—“ Garreth huffed through gritted teeth, “roll over.”

She let out a breathy laugh in exchange. “Let me, then.” Her voice was low as she swung her leg over his lap, straddling him in his pajamas. She pulled the thin sheet over them, just the two of them under a cotton canopy. Garreth swore under his breath as she leaned over him, hair tickling his chin.

“Is that better?” She whispered.

Garreth grinned against her lips, his nose brushing against hers. “This just might heal me,” he murmured, arms circling around her waist to bring her in tight. She hummed approvingly when he nipped her lower lip, delicately licking into her mouth. Everything was new, yet it felt so right—every kiss she returned was just an affirmation that she felt the same way. She liked that he was silly. She liked that he was loud. She liked the way he saved her a banana in the morning, the way he’d lean his body against hers during the cold nights in the astronomy tower—

Maybe one day she might love him too.

The sheet went flying, exposing both of them to the cold hospital wing. Garreth blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes to the darkness; instead, Nurse Blainey materialized, holding a lamp with the world’s largest frown on her face.

”Young lady,” Blainey hissed. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?”

She quickly hopped off Garreth’s lap, taking the sheet with her as she slid off the bed. Garreth squeaked indignantly as the warmth of her body disappeared, pulling one of the pillows to hide the rather obvious erection she’d left him with. His partner in crime adjusted her dressing gown, giving Blainey an awkward smile as she patted down her hair.

”I just wanted to check in on Garreth, that’s all.” She said smoothly.

“And you thought it appropriate to crawl into his bed?” Blainey snapped.

She winced, scratching the back of her head. “I wanted to see if his bandage was still alright?”

“Nice try.” Blainey rolled her eyes. “You’re very lucky the two of you are of age, otherwise I’d have to call your aunt in, Mr. Weasley.”

”Oh come on,” Garreth whined. “It’s just a week before we graduate—“

”And I certainly don’t feel like filling out any detention paperwork at this hour.” Blainey hissed. “You, go back to your dormitory straight away. And Mr. Weasley, if you do not rest—“

”Right, right,” Garreth grumbled, sinking back into his mattress. “It won’t heal properly, and I’ll be stuck here longer.”

Garreth wanted to protest as she balled up the bedsheet, tossing it back into his lap. She gave him a sheepish smile, grabbing her wand from the stone floor. “Er, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Breakfast?” Garreth asked hopefully.

Her face flushed red, a smile blossoming on her lips as she backed away. “Yes, breakfast.”

Blainey cleared her throat, saying her name one more time. “If you don’t go back to your common room right away—“

”Alright, alright,” she rolled her eyes, walking backwards towards the entrance. She waved one last time before she turned on her heel, slippers thwacking against the floor as she made her escape.

Blainey looked down at Garreth, coughing as he tucked himself back into bed.

”You won’t tell my aunt, will you?” Garreth asked hesitantly.

”I should,” Blainey narrowed her eyes. “But I won’t. Your aunt has too much to worry about without having to find out you tried to deflower a young lady in the hospital wing.”

”I did not,” Garreth guffawed. “I would never!”

Blainey shrugged. “And at least your case gave me a good chuckle today. Your friend Mr. Prewett is correct. You will always be remembered as the boy who’d cracked his skull open slipping on a banana peel, after all.”

”Oh come on,” Garreth huffed as the matron walked away. “You’ve had to have seen worse cases.”

”Self-inflicted banana related wounds are a first,” Blainey snorted as she walked back to her office. “Go to bed, Mr. Weasley.”

Garreth fell back against the pillows, wincing slightly at the sting from his wound. He stared up at the ceiling, touching his lips. He hadn’t dreamt it—he’d held her in his arms, kissed her until she was breathless. Quite content, Garreth fell asleep with little effort.

He had breakfast to look forward to, after all.

“Good as new,” Nurse Blainey nodded, balling up the wad of bandages from Garreth’s wound.

”Oh, thank Merlin.” Aunt Matilda cooed. “I’m glad the skelegrow was able to sort out the skull fracture.”

Garreth averted his gaze as he glanced at his watch. The house elves had brought up a fresh uniform for him, so he at least wouldn’t have to stop at the Gryffindor dormitory. He tapped his brown boots against the floor as Nurse Blainey went through her concussion checklist once more.

”Can I please leave?” Garreth wheezed, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Breakfast is nearly over—“

”What has you in such a rush this morning?” Aunt Matilda asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

“I just have friends I need to meet up with at breakfast,” Garreth said quickly.

Nurse Blainey snorted as she tapped her quill against her clipboard. “Right,” she drawled. “Friends.”

Garreth drummed his hands against the iron rail of the bed, nodding his head. “Yes, friends.” He repeated. “And I really, really don’t want to miss them.”

“Well, you’ve passed the test with flying colors,” Blainey checked the assessment. “No flying, floo travel, or apparating for the next forty eight hours. Overall, please limit any physical activity.” She waggled her eyebrows at Garreth, prompting a ferocious blush on his cheeks.

”Thank you,” Garreth said quickly, snatching his book bag from the edge of the bed. He could hear his aunt yelling after him as he scampered down the hall, feet drumming against the stairs as he made his way down.

”Garreth!” Aunt Matilda roared. “I can write you a note if you’re that worried about being late—“

”Gotta run,” he bellowed, skipping the last two steps. “See you later, Aunt Tilly!”

Despite Blainey’s instruction to limit his physical activity, Garreth had never run faster in his life. He nearly mowed down a pack of first years trying to scamper through the hallways, prefects and portraits yelling at him to slow down. He tore past both Natty and Leander, their mouths agape at their best friend making a fool out of himself yet again.

There would be plenty of time to explain later.

Garreth pushed the doors of the Great Hall open, panting as he doubled over, hands on knees. He scanned the Great Hall, praying to Merlin he would find a familiar face. The room was mostly empty, most of his fellow students off to their first classes of the day.

Except her. His heart thumped in his chest as he stood up straighter; she was perched on the Gryffindor table, sitting next to the fruit bowl. Like every morning, she had a half eaten banana in her hand.

Garreth willed himself to walk over, a big goofy grin on his face as he approached her. There was a twinkle in her eye as she leaned back on her elbows, appraising him.

”You look well rested,” she hummed, taking another bite. “Good as new.”

Garreth rubbed the back of his head. The injury was gone, the thatch of hair ant the spot of his wound already grown back thanks to Blainey’s tonic. “Better than ever,” he announced, setting his bag on the ground. “Are you going to finish that?”

She carefully peeled the fruit, breaking off a chunk to hand to Garreth. He took it gratefully, savoring the bite as she ate the rest. He cocked a brow when she folded up the peel into a neat square, tossing it onto the table.

”Have to be careful, you know.” She shrugged. “There was a guy in here just yesterday, cracked his skull slipping on a banana peel.”

Garreth rolled his eyes, snickering. “Very dangerous.” He tiptoed closer to her, his thighs pressed against her knees. He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking into her. “A fall like that might cause a head injury. Would make someone say some pretty crazy things.”

She snorted, tilting her chin up to face him. “I’m pretty sure you said you loved me before you slipped on the banana peel, Garreth.”

”I did,” Garreth admitted. “I love you.”

She didn’t have to say it back, he thought to himself. He was just happy it was out there, that she might reciprocate his feelings even fifty percent—

She grabbed his tie, tugging it to pull his face closer to hers. He could smell her perfume again, and the faint hint of banana on her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, and she pressed a delicate kiss to his lips. Garreth returned it eagerly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and resting them on the table as he leaned into her embrace. Her kiss was soft and sweet, a reassurance of her feelings for him. When they pulled apart, foreheads resting against each other’s, she smiled once more.

“I love you too, you idiot.”

[hotchnersangel]

MATILDA

Aaron Hotchner

-----

cw; childhood trauma, panic attacks, illusions to drinking, abuse, self-worth issues, mentions of the bau's traumas, hurt, blood, violence, bit of a persistent and overbearing hotch at the end. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY MENTION OF THESE THINGS TRIGGER YOU. This is a very deep and raw piece.

this has not been edited because it feels a bit too personal to reread lol

you have been warned.

You were always conditioned to brush off your feelings. It became a coping mechanism to get through the torment of your past. Physically you were fine but emotionally you were bruised and tainted with the colour indigo, that led to the bottled up pain.

No one knew your history or the treatment you went throuh as a child, in fact you often believed you history inferior due to your friends' upbringings. With Morgan being manipulated and molested, Emiy being dragged city to city to escape bible bashings, JJ losing a most beoved sister, Penelope losing her parents, Spencer's father leaving and him becoming a prodigy of the education system, Rossi watching his friends die right in front of him and Hotch. Well, Hotch's past had been a blurred line to the team, similar to yours. Though they knew something had happened to destroy you mentally for you to be where you were today- it was practically alien to have a member of the bau come from a happy home.

Your team had lost people around them, family, friends- life's true tragedy. But, you didn't. You lost no one but yourself.

You could argue that you lost you parents but it would be insensitive, they were still alive but they simply were never parents to you. They were strangers who barely even knew of your existence when you were present and a burden now that you were no longer around for them. No longer there to be their punching bag, no longer there to be their outlet of anger and cutthroat insults.

When the topic comes up, you deny, deny, deny.

"It's no big deal really," you would tell them with a large smile, diverting their attention and you had given them no reason to doubt you until one case.

A case that focused on parents abusing their children. You had almost gone quiet but it was not noticed, you played it off as exhaustion considering you had all been working back to back for weeks straight.

The jet felt colder that Tuesday morning, the seats glassed with a coat of ice as you sat down, letting out a shiver, Hotch takes his usual seat besides you and raises an eyebrow at you. "You okay?"

You nod with a smile, "Yeah it's no big deal, just a bit cold." You shrug, looking out the window, ready to set off for New Orleans. Midway through the flight, you feel a material rest over your legs, seeing Hotch reading the case file and hardly even looking at you. `like he could sense your need for some sort of comfort, whether it be from the sudden breeze or the pain inside your heart.

You arrive swiftly at the precinct, everyone getting up and getting to work. The team rarely struggled on a case but as you were all slumped around a board finishing your takeout. You look over the case files again and look up, causing eyes to dart over to you.

"Oh she's on-to something." Morgan exclaims.

"Let it download, almost there." Emily smirks slightly, watching the cogs turn in their head.

"A child can form a negative sense of love from super young, right?"

"Yeah, it's called our 'love map', it's the ideology of our internal software being developed from around the ages 5 to 6 based on our surroundings and the environment we grew up in." Spencer adds and agrees, seeing where you are going with this.

"And am i right in saying that it is effects our ability to process, receive and distribute love?" You inquire and Spencer nods along.

"Yeah, the result of a healthy development of self-cohesion, self-constancy, and self-agency is self-esteem. Positive affect becomes integrated with self-representation. A negative love map, essentially a distorted internal representation of what a healthy relationship looks like based on negative past experiences, can lead to significant issues in romantic relationships, including difficulty forming deep connections, distrust, emotional withdrawal, anxiety, and a tendency to repeat unhealthy patterns." Spencer nods along.

"So, this unsub had a broken home? Let's get Garcia to check records of social service calls to residents with multiple visits." Emily says to the team as they dial Garcia and are met with a sigh at the vast load she has to sieve through.

"I wouldn't rely on it there are so many left unreported." You added, shaking your head. "Look for school reports, teachers may have noticed suspicious behaviour and markings on a child- it's not much and hardly narrows it down but it is something."

The team nod impressed and you catch Hotch's eye as he narrows his eyes softly, like he was trying to read into your soul. You were, simply put, a book he could read one hundred times and still be unable to decode every last detail.

"Garcia, cross check school reports with silent 911 calls." You heart ached as you say the words, a rush of memories flooding back to you as you ran up the stairs of your house, hearing your father shouting up at you and your mother knocking on your door harshly. You'll never forget those knocks, like a constant reminder that you were always wrong. You had stolen the landline phone, really scared for your life in that moment. You were sat in you closet, knees tucked to your chest as silent tears glass your eyes.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Silence.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

"Hello?"

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

"This is 911, are you in danger?"

Yes, help. Please. I'm scared.

Your shallow breaths cut through the silence before the call ended and your inevitable fate had drawn closer.

"I've cross checked teachers note with 911 calls and i think i have something." Garcia informs the team over the phone, "It may be a long shot but a man named Dane Kirighan called 911 twice but they were both silent, as our pretty girl said." She starts. "His mom Janet Kirighan recently passsed away... it says... oh- she was bludgened to death by a flat object four months ago.."

"That could be our stressor." Aaron nods at the team as Garcia continues.

"It gets worse, his father was sentenced to life for the murder of Janet Kirighan but he was deemed deceased only last month."

You stay silent. "He has abandonment issues, as much as he hated them both for the pain they inflicted, they left him again..."

"What's his address?"

The case was long, almost a week long and you were sure it was torturous. Memories came back in floods to the point that you could no longer focus on the situation at hand but rather the pain in Dane Kirighan's voice as he screamed in the line of crossfire.

One harsh scream then silence.

That silence you knew all too well, you left the scene quickly, getting into the back of one of the SUV's. You talk to no one, you look at no one, you react to nothing. Right now, you're as lifeless as Dane. The little boy who was manipulated and formed into a killer. You shouldn't but you empathise for him. You sympathise.

You knew that there were two sides to a coin and you and Dane Kirighan were one of the same. Heads vs Tales, you saw different lives but deep down you were made from the same foundations and ou were terrified.

You excused yourself from the car, heading into the bathroom to freshen up. No one joined you, which you were grateful for because currently, you hamd was stretched against the painted wall, clawing for something to hold you body up as your other dug into the skin of your chest as if it would help you breathe. Suddenly you were back in that closet, rocking back and fourth as you hear footsteps growing nearer to you.

You heart rate picked up at the memory, you breathing becoming shallow and uneven and suddenly the all too familiar burning sensation infiltrated your lungs. The need of oxygen grew stronger as you slid down the wall of the bathroom, feeling pathetic and completely naked on that tile flooring.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Your mind became your biggest enemy as your heartbeat rung through you ears like a cry for help.

Footsteps.

The echo of your parent's footsteps grew louder in you mind as they neared the bathroom door.

Your heart was racing. Fuck. Breathing. You need to breathe. Come on. You gotta keep trying. In and Out. They're not here. You're safe.

Until silence, once again.

A laugh echoed from outside and you realised you were safe, you were home. Not all family was bad, but you didn't know how to be in the family. What was your role?

You walk back to the team after freshing up a bit, swearing an oath to yourself to avoid the topic of your panic attack.

You walk up to the team and they greet you with warm smiles.

"Nice call kid, you may not feel like it was positive but you helped." Rossi pulled you into a hug, a tight hug and you realised that the team knew. Fuck, they knew.

"How did you know?" Emiy inquires, breaking the ice to the topic. "How did you know to check for 911 calls?"

"I did it a few times," you shrug, being honest. This is what a family des right. "I knew nothing would come out of it but it felt like I was doing something."

Faces softened and you hated that.

You pull you hair into a ponytail and smile, though it is far from real. "it's no big deal."

"You were abused." Hotch's voice cuts the silence and zones his vision on you. "Do you hear me?"

"Hotch man-" Derek tries to intervene but Hotch cuts him off.

"You were abused." he repeats.

"Stop."

"You are a victim." he states so boldly with no judgement whatsoever.

"Stop," You repeat, urgently, feeling your emotions swell.

"It is a big deal. You. Were. Abused." He repeats and you are getting angry now, you hardly notice that Hotch had gestured for the others to leave.

"Hotch- stop it."

"Why are you defending them?"

"I'm not."

"The people you should trust the most hurt you, in every way they could."

"Hotch-" you feel tears threaten your eyes.

"That's why you don't trust easy. It's why you don't talk about your experiences. It's why you never miss a deadline because you think you will be punished. You think that your a burden and you bottle up your feelings and belittle them until they are overwhelming for you. Its why you can tell who is nearing you because you have our footsteps memorised. Do you know what these are?"

"Stop profiling me." You burst, your voice echoing through the walls.

A tear.

He lifts his hand.

You flinch.

He moves gently.

You look down.

He tilts your head up.

"It's all trauma responses. You are a victim of abuse and you're too thoughtful to ask for help because you don't want to gain friendships where people will leave you."

Your eyes are full of silent tears as you look up at him.

His heart breaks.

"You can let it go." He whispers to you, resting his hand on your cheek. "Do you hear me?"

You nod, you eyes rimmed red and glossy with pain.

"You-" he points at your chest, more specifically your heart. "You don't have to invite your blood related family to the party of your soul."

"Your heart, honey, truly is a party. It is beautiful, it is flourished, it is fun and it reflects every ounce of who you are. Your parents never showed you love but I do, we all do. Never be sorry for growing up surrounded by pain, never belittle your past experiences until you are on the edge okay?"

"What are you asking of me?"

"I'm asking you to let me love you... let me take care of you. You talk of all this pain like it's alright, it isn't so stop. A part of you feels like a lost cause but baby, you shine like the brightest star. You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days."

"I'm asking you to let me into your heart, your mind."

In that moment, you realised that you were starting a family who will always show you love and though it will be a long process, it will be worth it in the end.

[trulyhblue]

Carded

Alessia Russo x Aussie! Arsenal! Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, fluff, coarse language, suggestive if you squint.

Masterlist

________________________

Alessia were a bit like Katie in the sense of your aggression — or, rather 'passion' as you put it gently — on the field.

Arsenal had a rocky start to the season, with a loss against Liverpool to being dubbed as 'second-halfsenal', as your fans and rivals alike found the comedy in your troubles. There was no technical malice behind the name, the girls would joke about it ever so often during training, but that didn't stop the hidden linger of doubt among the team. As the season proceeded, with the crucial derbies of both Chelsea and Tottenham, you started to notice how it was having a negative effect on your girlfriend.

You grew up in Melbourne, Australia, playing for your local club before being scouted by recruits when you were in High School. You joined Melbourne Victory at Seventeen, playing alongside your future Matildas teammates, Kyra and Courtney. The three of you went to school together, before graduating and parting ways. While they moved to the Sweden league, you chose to head to Bayern Munich, where you spent four years strengthening your skills and gaining wider international attention.

The move was incredibly difficult. You did not understand a word of German walking into your first day, and still struggle to communicate in the foreign language. It definitely helped when Lioness player, Georgia Stanway transferred from Manchester City, and you ended up spending a lot of time with the English girl.

Due to this connection, you had met the other Lionesses by association, one girl sticking out to you specifically.

You had properly met Alessia in a friendly match against your two National teams. It hadn't taken long for you to realise your feelings for each other, but the timing never seemed right. She was in Manchester, playing for United, and you were in Germany, both consistent in your hard work for your respective teams.

You both were called up for the World Cup squad, you playing as a regular starter in the Midfield. From your early career, you always had a deep-rooted chemistry with Kyra and Courtney, so the opportunities the three of you created set the scene for your forwards up front. It was heartbreaking losing to England in the Semi-finals, especially in a home World Cup. You remember how Georgia sat with you after the game, waiting until she knew you were okay before she went off to celebrate.

You reciprocated the kindness by watching the final, feeling upset for the Lionesses when the score did not turn out their way. The two of you wondered what the next step was for you.

You had trouble mulling over the end of your contract, knowing Georgia had just renewed hers. After the World Cup, the recognition of the public had a great turnout, and your agent was met with many expressions of interest.

When Arsenal's name popped up on that list, you knew it was a no-brainer.

You and Alessia had both transferred in the same week, Kyra a few weeks later. The blonde and you moved in together, having both no place to live and hit it off from there. Now, a few months in, you've never been happier.

"Alright girls, we can do this." You heard Kim shout from beside you. Alessia was holding your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shorts as the team huddled around each other.

"Go out and set the scene. First tackles, first corners, everything, alright?"

You were versing Chelsea, the London Derby, in a sold-out Emirates, and you could feel the nerves radiating off Kyra from in front of you. Kim was the Captain today, her Scottish accent shouting as both the starting eleven and subs hugged one another. The lead-up to this game was beyond stressful, the pressure of starting in such a critical game building on Alessia and you over the past few days. The whole ordeal was daunting, having not ever played in a derby of this significance before.

"London is Red, girls, let's go!" Katie shouted, earning the huddle to disperse as everyone took their starting positions.

You could feel the sweat compile over the creases in your hands, wiping them twice over before jogging to your place on the wing. You found yourself looking out to the crowd, waving at the group of fans chanting your name. Erin Cuthbert was quick to join your side, standing close by as the cheers grew louder in anticipation.

Alessia was upfront, watching you with adoring eyes. You offered her a tight-lipped smile, pursing your lips and blushing when she sent a toothy grin and thumbs up your way. However; the moment was short-lived as the referee was quick to blow her whistle, commencing the game.

It was apparent that Chelsea was not expecting the energy Arsenal brought to the game. Errors and miscalculated passes were being carried out left and right, the chemistry between both sides slipping beneath the heightening apprehension.

“I'm here!” You called, speeding along the wing as Katie hesitated on the other side of the pitch. The Chelsea girls had left your front wing open, crowding in the midfield, evidently oblivious to the mistake they’d produced. You heard Emma Hayes yelling to cover your end, but Katie had already seen you, crossing the ball to your end. Cuthbert was on your tail, trying hard to stub your sprint in an attempt to stuff you up.

Victoria was to your right, onside yet swarmed with about three defenders. Beth was not far behind; Chelsea defenders were swarming the box in a desperate endeavour to clear Arsenal’s attempt.

You had no other choice but to nimble the ball through Fleming’s legs and towards Vic, who helplessly maneuvered the ball through the maze of defenders before passing to Mead. Cuthbert had put her hands behind her back, using her body to shield Beth’s fake attempt at the goal. You watched with your breath hitched as Beth powered the ball to the goal, observing the swift motion of the back of the neck.

Alessia was the first to wrap your arms around you, holding you up, carrying you over to where Katie was gripping Beth for dear life.

The rest of your team celebrated around you, screaming among the thousands of people in the crowds, smiles etched on all your faces.

“You’re doing so well.” Less yelled, hoping you’d hear her praise over the booming echo of cheers circling the Emirates. She knew you heard her from the blush that spread your cheeks, making your already flushed face all the more flustered. Your girlfriend wrapped her hands around you, swaying you from side to side one more time before you patted her back and let go.

Her eyes watched your figure jog back to your spot near Cuthbert, who pushed her way into your shoulder before the whistle for the restart blew. You tried your best to ignore her antics, using your legs to propel you towards the ball.

Turns out, Chelsea didn't like what you just did.

Erin followed you up and down the pitch, tugging your shirt everywhere she went. Whenever you tried to run forward and make a chance for your team, the Scottish woman would yank you back, locking her arm around your body, keeping you glued to the sideline.

Chelsea evened the score only a couple of minutes later. The sweat dripping down your forehead was enough to tell anyone how hard you were trying. Erin wasn't the only one giving you grief; Fleming was always a few metres away, darting through the midfield easily without you to worry about.

You were finally given the ball from a cross from Victoria, who mustn't have realised how cornered you were. You hadn't left the sideline in twenty minutes now. Fleming was now to your left, running up against you with Erin’s arm holding your waist. You struggled to keep the ball at your feet, the crowd watching in delight as the three of you battled it out alone.

You had managed to dart the ball between Jessie’s legs, causing an audible reaction from the fans, but it seemed that your face was too preoccupied with meeting the grass to soak up any type of honour you were receiving.

You felt the ground against your cheek, your body falling from stubs to the foot. You groaned at the instant pain up your leg, causing you to hold your shoe and roll onto your back. The adrenaline from the game made the pang bearable, but you knew the tackle was far from clean way before the whistle had blown.

“Oh, get up. What a fucking baby.” You heard Erin say, her Scottish accent full of malice.

“I didn't know Chelsea hired my Nephew.” An Irish accent quipped nearby. “Cause all he does is throw a tantrum when he doesn't get what he wants.”

“It was clean.”

“Oh, fuck off, you slimy t—”

You didn't get to hear the rest of their dispute, too busy nursing your foot with your hands. Steph had broken the two up, ordering Katie to run back to the other side. Sam Kerr was also around, kneeling beside you amidst the strain.

“You ‘right, mate?” Your Aussie Teammate helped you up, holding out her hands and rubbing your back as you regained balance. The Skipper had been your mentor since you joined the Tillies. The older woman was an idol of yours, and you looked up to her despite the few years between you.

However, you couldn't respond to Sam in time, for she was pushed away harshly by a certain blonde, her blue eyes reeling with anger at the sight of the tackle you endured.

“Stay away from her, Kerr.” She snarled, using her arm to support your weight onto one foot. You put your hand on her chest, shooting a silent apology to Sam, who shrugged nonchalantly before sauntering off.

“Y/N, are you alright?” The referee asked the yellow card still in her hand. You knew you had the power to play it over the top, but this game was everything to you. You didn't want to be subbed off any time soon.

But your girlfriend wasn't having any of it.

“She,” Less pointed to Erin, who was standing by a regretful Fleming. “Needs to be sent off for that. She's been harassing Y/N all game. It was obviously on purpose. Did you see it? It was stubs to the—”

“Lessi, stop, it's alright. I'm fine.” You swapped glances from your girlfriend to the Ref, who was still looking at you for reassurance in regard to your physical wellness. “I’m fine.” You repeated, and the whistle was quickly blown for a free kick, and a yellow toward Cuthbert.

Alessia looked down at you cautiously, eyeing your leg and the slight weariness in your step. “Are you sure?” She asked.

When you nodded, she jogged over to her position once more, sighing at your stubbornness as you prepared for your kick.

Ilestedt’s goal only a few minutes later sent all of the girls into a frenzy. You sprinted over to the Swedish player, jumping onto her back and kissing her head, laughing as you felt the rest of your team surround you in hugs and celebrations. The screams and cheers in the stands were phenomenal. No one expected the Reds to be beating the Blues so early into the game.

Erin was hot on your tail when Caitlin punted the ball towards you. You made the sprint down the line, your Aussie teammates Steph and Caitlin both yelling out for a pass. You were about to boot it behind you, where Steph was waiting for the assist when you felt your legs give out for the second time that game. The grass met your face, the power of the fall leaving you in shambles, the ball long forgotten by the time your hand shot up to the blood running down your nose.

Steph was by your side, forgetting all about the game still in play. Alessia had gained possession of the ball, holding it in her hands by the time you had sat up, the whistling blowing when the Ref noticed the amount of red spilling down your shirt.

“Move your hand.” Steph uttered, holding your face and using her own shirt to hold your nose. “It’s not broken.” You did as you were told, your nose warm at the contact of the ground, only slightly sore. She looked up to Kim, who you knew was fuming underneath her worried gaze.

“I don't want to be subbed off.” You said, and you saw Kim nod, agreeing before storming up to the Referee, who was talking sternly to Erin.

Beside her was Alessia, with her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed into a furious knot, you watching in horror as a yellow card was shown her way. Katie had made it just in time to take her away, gripping the girl’s shoulders and guiding her towards you.

The medics had come on to see to your nose whilst handing you another shirt to change into. They assessed the blood, which was slowly halting, and declared that you had just knocked it. You told them you didn't want to go off, and with a nod from Katie and approval from the Referee, you stood off the field patiently before you were allowed back on.

During those painstaking moments, you pondered on what Alessia had said that made her get the yellow. You knew Erin was already on thin ice, and in yesterday’s training, Jonas had said that if given the chance, Alessia was to take the penalties. You knew the English girl. She was never much of a violent person on the field, choosing to stay calm and collected rather than angsty and irate when something didn't go her way.

But in games like this, where everything was on the line, it was hard to deny the apparent tension behind her actions. When it came to you, she’d sacrifice everything. For you, she’d take a million yellows if it meant sticking up for you.

You had sprinted up near Fleming when the girls ran towards your goal. The stadium stood in anticipation, the adrenaline of Arsenal’s streak pumping through their cheers. Alessia found the ball under her feet, her shot hitting the back of the net with a swish. You couldn't hear anyone but yourself, the pain and exhaustion from the half leaving your body the very moment you wrapped your legs around Less’s waist.

The girl held you up with her hands, holding under your thighs, squishing the skin just under your arse before putting you down. You laughed at her cheeky grin, relishing the private moment between the two of you before the rest of the girls stampede their way around you.

“LESSI RUSSO!” Beth screamed, hugging the two of you as she jumped in excitement. Arsenal were beating Chelsea — the top of the ladder — three-one going into the second half. If they scored once more, it’d be the Blue’s worst defeat in five years.

The thought was the utmost motivation.

You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised to find yourself walking back on in the second half. Your nose had stopped bleeding during half-time, but the ache was still attending when you made your way to the wing.

Just before you went out, you felt familiar hands grip your waist, pushing you against the wall of your cubby. You saw Alessia’s glare eye your kit and the way she licked her lips at the sight of your flushed countenance. Her starved eyes roamed your face. Your lips met hers in a hungry kiss, knowing the rest of the girls were in their own world as they prepared for what was to come.

“You’re playing really good.” You said, holding her biceps, your finger drawing circles against her skin.

Alessia hummed, meeting your lips again, nipping your bottom lip before pulling away. “So are you, baby. ‘Making me so proud, you are.”

The compliment went straight through you. Her eyes continued to linger on you as you walked back out onto the pitch. You swallowed any pre-existing desire you had for the girl as Jessie Fleming walked by your side, offering you a curt, determined smile, then going stone-faced.

The rivalry in the second half displayed by both sides was nothing in comparison to the anger radiating in the last forty-five minutes of the London Derby.

Katie and Caitlin both got cards in two minutes of each other. Lauren James, Chelsea forward, fifteen minutes later. Illegal tackles were thrown left and right, pushing, shoving, ploughing everywhere you looked.

Emma Hayes must've thought Erin would've been sent off if been marking you for another second. Jessie was a much cleaner opponent, but as the time ticked over, the end of the match and the taste of victory near, the Canadian found haste in her decisions, making a rather late decision in tackling you near the sideline.

“Fuck, sorry.” She spoke, and while remorseful, she seemed too engulfed in the loss to speak much truth. She took her yellow graciously but made no attempt to reconcile with you. She walked over to Sam, who gave her a scornful glare, making the younger girl cower. You took your time getting up off the grass, stretching out the tension in your hamstrings before straightening back onto your feet.

On her way over to you, Alessia shot the dirtiest glare she could muster towards Fleming, not realising that many fans would catch the interaction on their phones. She made her way over to you, kissing the top of your forehead, making no endeavour to hide her public affection towards you.

Your relationship with Alessia was extremely private. You didn't want the public to know every detail of each other, and how you lived day to day in each other’s company, but that didn't mean you didn't like to tease your relationship over social media every once and a while. The Arsenal girls were all for a photo dump on Instagram, and many of the fans had caught onto your close proximity in some of the photos.

One of them in particular caused the rumours of your relationship to form. It was in Katie’s dump, a couple of weeks after your move to Arsenal. A group of girls were all sitting together in a booth, somewhere in a random London pub, but there wasn't enough room, leaving you to sit on Alessia’s lap when the photo was taken. From there, everyone assumed the two of you were dating, and while neither of you confirmed anything, it wasn't a secret you were trying hard to keep.

The game proceeded and not long after, an easy penalty was given to your side after a Chelsea defensive miscommunication. It was Alessia who took it, and the crowd made deafening sounds of joy as the Reds crowded around each other in celebration.

You were beating Chelsea 4-1.

The feeling was euphoric. Nothing could beat the sour, everlasting annoyance planted on Cuthbert’s face. Nothing could take you away from the overwhelming happiness that overtook your body when the full-time whistle blew, leaving Arsenal in glee at the massive takedown on the reigning top-of-the-ladder.

Alessia was up against you the moment you met each other’s glance. She pulled you off the ground, spinning you around in circles, making you squirm and squeal as she tickled your sides.

“You did so well, baby.” She sounded, her breath tickling your ear. You shivered, trying hard to hold in your yearning. Alessia knew how to rile you up, hands coming up to glue to your shoulders, massaging the knots that had formed from the tiresome run you just had. You groaned at the relief. Alessia smirked at the whines coming from your mouth.

“All for me, baby?”

You hid your face in her chest at that, face red at her undistinguished connotations. She laughed, holding your chin, placing a quick peck on the side of your lips, pulling you back into her afterwards.

You waited until she was soaking up the silence, a small smile decorating your sweaty face.

“Did it all for you, Lessi.”

____________________________

[wisteria-lodge]

What do you think a genderswapped Harry Potter (Harriet Potter?) would've been like?

So to start... I actually don't think life at the Dursleys would be all that different for Fem!Harry. Maybe there would be less *violent* bullying from Vernon and Dudley... but they honestly don't manage all that much as it is, and Harry's "normal" abuse mostly consists of being shouted at, locked up, treated as a scullery maid, and just generally made into a scapegoat + inferior/problem child that the rest of the family can unite around. If anything, Fem!Harry would have just reminded Petunia even MORE of Lily, and stirred up even MORE complicated emotions. And we'd get even more of live-in chef/maid Cinderella!Harry. It would all feel very Matilda.

The first big change I see happening... is I don't think Ron would have bonded with Harry on the train nearly as easily, if she were a girl. Young Ron is honestly pretty uncomfortable/awkward around girls... unless he's able to put them into a category like "little sister" (which doesn't count.) Or "know-it-all" (which doesn't count.) It's kind of a plot point in Book 4 that it takes him a while to realize Hermione and Ginny are girls he and Harry could potentially ask to the dance. Ron grew up around a bunch of guys, and you can tell. I think he'd try to *impress* Fem!Harry on the train, and probably put his foot in his mouth.

Harry would be at kind of loose ends on the Hogwarts Express, and get sucked into the search for Trevor the toad as something to do. So in this version, she actually ends up bonding with Neville. Hermione would be there too but well - Hermione rubbed Harry the wrong way at first in canon, and it would be even more the case here. They're both (functionally) muggleborn girls - but Hermione is SO much better prepared, and has SUCH loving parents, and won't shut up about any of this. In a way that Canon!Harry kind of fixates on Draco for ending up with his Ideal Life, it's possible that Fem!Harry might fixate more on Hermione.

11-year-old Draco would have treated Fem!Harry exactly the same, meeting her at Madame Malkin's and later on the train. He'd still have his obsession with her, and yeah, it probably does read as more of a crush to his Slytherin buddies... but I really do not see that stopping him. If his father can't get him to be normal to Harry, then that's just how it's going to be.

Harry will still get Sorted into Gryffindor, but I don't see her being close with any of the the other Gryffindor girls. Lavender and Parvati just have very different personalities, and Harry and Hermione... are very intense people who work best when they're able to take breaks from each other. In Book 4 when Harry is exclusively hanging out with Hermione, he comments that she's not as *fun* as Ron. And we see that dynamic again in Book 7 when it's just the two of them in the tent. Like they're incredibly effective, but seem to be wearing each other down a little. I think that forcing young (less emotionally mature) Harry and Hermione to be roommates would just end up with them getting on each other's nerves.

Hermione might get pulled into the friend group when Harry and Neville need help researching Nicholas Flamel, but she could easily stay more of a supporting character or even a frenemy in this version. Fem!Harry would still be the youngest seeker in a century. (Draco would be even more motivated to steal Neville's Remembrall if Neville is Harry's best friend... so that face-off would have gone down exactly the same.) Once she's actually on the team, I could see her falling in more with the upperclassmen, and hanging out with Fred, George, Lee, and Angelina (especially if they put together that she's a bit lonely.) It could be Harry, Neville, maybe Hermione, maybe the twins solving the puzzles at the end of Book 1. They'd still suspect Snape, who... would honestly be just a slightly different flavor of antagonistic and weird towards Harry, if she were a girl.

But in second year, Ginny would be Sorted into Gryffindor and I do think that Fem!Harry and Ginny would get along great, absolutely be bros. They could bond over quidditch, and Harry would get more of a sense of Ginny's actual personality (funny, cool). I have to think 11-year-old Ginny would be much less awkward around Harry if she were a girl.

Which would be really intense actually, because Ginny would have shown up to school with the the Diary, and it's... sort of important to the plot that she's isolated and has no friends. If she shares it with Harry as a cool thing - then Harry is ABSOLUTELY going to get obsessed with it. And since Harry's a much better *get* for Tom (Tom talks about being *so* pleased when powerful, important, future nemesis Harry starts writing to him instead of Ginny...) I think you just get Possessed!Harry opening up the Chamber of Secrets.

Also, would Harry have a crush on Tom? We know that Tom Riddle tries to impress Canon!Harry, which doesn't work... but Fem!Harry he might try to charm. Tom can be very charming if he wants to be. Harry also thinks he's very handsome. Either way, Tom is going to work VERY hard to to get Harry to distrust her friends. Really, you'd just get Harry's plot about being isolated and possessed by Voldemort in Book 5 moved to Book 2. Tom would get Harry to write "her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever" on the wall, and lure her down to the Chamber of Secrets.

However. I do think that Lily's magic, which makes it impossible for Voldemort to physically touch Harry, would also make it impossible for him to properly drain her life and take over her body. I'm thinking of the moment at the end of Book 5 where Voldemort tries to possess Harry, but Harry fights him off. So... I think Harry just wakes up in the Chamber of Secrets with an intact Diary and a basilisk she can control, since of course she's still a parselmouth.

The question is... what happens to the Diary, now that Harry knows it's dangerous? I'm thinking that when Harry disappears, Ginny freaks out and tells one of her older brothers what's going on, who tells Arthur, who tells Dumbledore. Which leaves Dumbledore with a Horcrux that still works... and it seems like if you've got school-age Tom Riddle right there, that would be a much easier way to get an answer to the question 'how many horcuxes do you plan on making?' So Dumbledore gets a head start on that project.

Harry now effectively just is the Heir of Slytherin. She can go to the Chamber whenever she wants, and the basilisk is her familiar I guess (Hagrid would LOVE helping her take care of it.) I could also see a Harry who gets more *interested* in Salazar Slytherin after this. She definitely wouldn't talk to Draco - he spent Book 2 being an asshat and calling people slurs. But Harry might try to pick Theo's brain or something.

Now Hermione. At first I was thinking - does Hermione just die, in Book 2? Would she have known to look around corners with a mirror, and so survive her basilisk attack?

I do think she'd still figure it out... and it's because of Lockhart. Hermione is a Gilderoy Lockhart *fangirl,* and without Ron and Harry poo-pooing her crush (and without first hand experience of Lockhart causing issues for Harry...) I think she's able to geek about about this with her roomies. I mean, Lavender and Parvati read Witch Weekly. They know he's won the Most Charming Smile award. Hermione likes a project, and without Harry and Ron providing one, I think her new thing is impress Lockhart. And what would impress Lockhart? Well, he's a monster hunter who is trying to find the Chamber of Secrets and identify what's inside. How cool would it be, if they were the ones who helped him? He'd write about them in his next book.

So I think the Polyjuice Potion plan (Hermione's idea) is still a go. She might even talk Lavender and/or Parvati into helping out. (I mean, they joined the DA. They're up for some rulebreaking.) Hermione would still turn herself into a cat, which would actually massively humanize her in the eyes of her roommates, and I think they all end up much better friends in this AU. Eventually, one of them does manage to Polyjuice into Pansy, which is a much more effective way of interrogating Draco. And by this point, Hermione has met Myrtle, and has enough info to solve the mystery, and even bring her findings to Lockhart. Who ah. Finds an excuse to just run. There's a very fun portion of the year where Dumbledore teaches DADA.

I don't see all that much about Book 3 changing until the climax - because the crew Harry takes down to Hagrid's after dark *would* be different. Neville, Ginny (not the Twins - I think they give Harry the Map and peace out, they've got their own stuff going on and don't want to hang out with their much younger sister.) Maybe Theo? I could see him taking on a very Hermione-ish support role by this point.

But this also causes a problem, because if Ron isn't there, Scabbers isn't with him. And if Scabbers isn't with Ron - I don't think Remus notices Peter on the map, and so just stays inside and drinks his Wolfsbane, which means Snape doesn't go down. And since Sirius' target was never *actually* Harry... I think this is just a universe where Sirius first-degree-murders Peter, and doesn't have a confrontation with Harry at all.

I do think Voldemort still comes back though. Trelawney would still have made her prophecy ("His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight... the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master.") In this universe, that prophecy would refer to Barty jr, finally throwing off the Imperius curse for the first time.

Bertha Jorkins still goes on her trip to Albania, and... Voldemort probably just possesses her the same way he did Quirrell. I bet that's easier to do after someone's been sort of fried by a memory wipe. Also, being in her head, I have to assume he's eventually gets some inkling of the fact that Barty is still alive, and so goes looking for him. Harry still goes to the Quidditch World Cup since she's friends with Ginny, her scar is still hurting (she probably writes to Lupin about this, instead of Sirius, but Lupin gives her pretty similar advice. He will have still left Hogwarts, because Snape would still have outed him as a werewolf at the end of the year.)

Harry still ends up as Champion. I think Big Sister Fleur would be a little more protective of Fem!Harry than Canon!Harry. And also... Harry just straight-up has a crush on handsome, nice, good at Quidditch Cedric. Rita could write about the Harry/Cedric/Cho love triangle, instead of Harry/Hermione/Krum.

The Yule Ball would actually be kind of a big deal for Fem!Harry. Up until now, she's been kind of a tomboy who wears Dudley's hand-me-downs... and is occasionally forced into some terrible 'party dress' when Aunt Marge visits. Harry's best friends are a boy and a tomboy, her quidditch teammates are feminine role-models but very much athletes: 'girly' hyper-femininity is something she associates with Aunt Petunia.

But, fourth year roles around. Mrs. Weasley buys her a set of emerald-green dress robes that actually look really nice, and she needs to find a date for the ball. I think she thinks about asking Cedric... but chickens out at the last minute, and asks Neville to go with her as a friend. Between her much more girly roommates, and Fleur taking pity on her and giving her some tips... I think Hermione's big Yule Ball glow-up is also Harry's first experience with wanting to look pretty, and succeeding.

I think it would be fun, and make sense, if this lead into a little secret admirer subplot. Someone is leaving her little gifts and messages, and she's thinking - is it Neville? Theo? Cedric?

(it was Draco. Instead of the blast-ended skrewts, Hagrid has them all taking care of Harry's basilisk, and like... she has a basilisk... she's the Heir of Slytherin... she asked Longbottom to the ball when she could do so much better... she was wearing green and looking perfect. Draco's Harry obsession has sorted itself out into a very serious crush.)

Back to the main plot. With Peter dead, I'm not sure Barty would be able to take care of Voldemort AND prep the ritual to bring him back to life AND impersonate Moody. He's going to need a man on the inside. I think at first he tries to use his father - but as we know that is going to get very risky very fast, because Barty Sr is remarkably good at fighting the Imperius curse, and also just knows way too much. He's a huge risk, because if he goes rouge, he'll tell Dumbledore everything (which is very nearly what happens.)

So I think Barty Jr. targets Barty Sr.'s assistant Percy Weasley, after he can no longer control his father. Uses him as a way to affect things in Hogwarts. He might imperius him, but he also might just like... Polyjuice himself into his father for short periods, and manipulate Percy in a non-magical way to make sure he helps Harry, and gets her through the maze to the cup first. Once Percy realizes what he's done... I think he re-commits to his family in penance, and stops being a such a Ministry man.

Voldemort rising works as kind of a reset button, so things would start looking a lot more canon again, only with Ron and Hermione swapped out for Ginny and Neville. Main difference being, Voldemort has Barty now. I absolutely think he would have survived Book 4.

So I'm going to leave this what-if here for now. Thanks for the ask, this was a lot of fun to think about.

[wonder-worker]

A central element of the myth of [Eleanor of Aquitaine] is that of her exceptionalism. Historians and Eleanor biographers have tended to take literally Richard of Devizes’s conventional panegyric of her as ‘an incomparable woman’. She is assumed to be a woman out of her time. […] Amazement at Eleanor’s power and independence is born from a presentism that assumes generally that the Middle Ages were a backward age, and specifically that medieval women were all downtrodden and marginalized. Eleanor’s career can, from such a perspective, only be explained by assuming that she was an exception who rose by sheer force of personality above the restrictions placed upon twelfth-century women.

— Michael R. Evans, Inventing Eleanor: The Medieval and Post-Medieval Image of Eleanor of Aquitaine

The idea of Eleanor’s exceptionalism rests on an assumption that women of her age were powerless. On the contrary, in Western Europe before the twelfth century there were ‘no really effective barriers to the capacity of women to exercise power; they appear as military leaders, judges, castellans, controllers of property’. […] In an important article published in 1992, Jane Martindale sought to locate Eleanor in context, stripping away much of the conjecture that had grown up around her, and returning to primary sources, including her charters. Martindale also demonstrated how Eleanor was not out of the ordinary for a twelfth-century queen either in the extent of her power or in the criticisms levelled against her.

If we look at Eleanor’s predecessors as Anglo-Norman queens of England, we find many examples of women wielding political power. Matilda of Flanders (wife of William the Conqueror) acted as regent in Normandy during his frequent absences in England following the Conquest, and [the first wife of Henry I, Matilda of Scotland, played some role in governing England during her husband's absences], while during the civil war of Stephen’s reign Matilda of Boulogne led the fight for a time on behalf of her royal husband, who had been captured by the forces of the empress. And if we wish to seek a rebel woman, we need look no further than Juliana, illegitimate daughter of Henry I, who attempted to assassinate him with a crossbow, or Adèle of Champagne, the third wife of Louis VII, who ‘[a]t the moment when Henry II held Eleanor of Aquitaine in jail for her revolt … led a revolt with her brothers against her son, Philip II'.

Eleanor is, therefore, less the exception than the rule – albeit an extreme example of that rule. This can be illustrated by comparing her with a twelfth century woman who has attracted less literary and historical attention. Adela of Blois died in 1137, the year of Eleanor’s marriage to Louis VII. […] The chronicle and charter evidence reveals Adela to have ‘legitimately exercised the powers of comital lordship’ in the domains of Blois-Champagne, both in consort with her husband and alone during his absence on crusade and after his death. […] There was, however, nothing atypical about the nature of Adela’s power. In the words of her biographer Kimberley LoPrete, ‘while the extent of Adela’s powers and the political impact of her actions were exceptional for a woman of her day (and indeed for most men), the sources of her powers and the activities she engaged in were not fundamentally different from those of other women of lordly rank’. These words could equally apply to Eleanor; the extent of her power, as heiress to the richest lordship in France, wife of two kings and mother of two or three more, was remarkable, but the nature of her power was not exceptional. Other noble or royal women governed, arranged marriages and alliances, and were patrons of the church. Eleanor represents one end of a continuum, not an isolated outlier.

[literallys-illiteracy]

Oh boy time for me to do my thing and watch closely: New HTP episode released

When discussing the Regent of Great Yarmouth (referred to in the scene as "The master"), we see the background use the same silhouette as the figure credited as "The Monk" in the final scenes of the first episode.

I think that the theory of Kevin actually having telepathy, still screaming at D about the blender every so often (assuming he hasn't had time to meet Kevin since purchasing it) is very funny so I'm going with it. Kevin's dribble while going off script says "POWERFUL WIZARD LAZER".

-

The symptoms that Spit displays line up heavily with those of the Delirium (note that there are many many different effects that the Delirium may take), with one of the most common reactions being catatonia (essentially becoming unresponsive in shock/fear), also implying that Spit has a willpower of 1.

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Crossing off the supposed kindred from being a "Vampire Wizard" (presumably not only relating to Tremere but we don't know how the family classifies them), Kitten proposes them to be a Sludge Lad (Nosferatu) or Humanimal (Gangrel), also making a joke about La Ghostra Nostra, which I believe is mean to be a pun on La Cosa Nostra (The Sicilian Mafia).

As the group is still going by the assumption that this IS a vampire, they are treating it as if Simon (Spit) has been dominated (See previous HTP post for Domination). That AND Matilda posits that he could simply be faking it I Wonder Why.

Also yeah I ship it.

Brok is genuinely pissed at the idea of Spit being the ghoul for basically no reason bar the fact that they are/were friends for a long time.

Now we get to the part where I get to talk at length about the Irish man.

to start off with, I haven't actually the best guess as to what Occam fully is (other than being a hedge mage). The amulet he is wearing has a sigil which is common in Celtic circles called the Triskelion, this also has ties to Hellenistic history (most specifically in Sicily, which being the second mention of Sicily sent me down a weird rabbit hole, allow me to elaborate:)

Basically, the triskelion is linked to Sicily, Hellenism (used as a common symbol during the period) and the god Hermes (Hermes helped Perseus fetch the head of Medusa). This isn't the important part but by God if I did this research it isn't going to waste. (also there is a theoretical link between the fact that the symbol is not too distant from the god Hermes and the Order of Hermes but I don't think that's important)

In Sicily, in WoD, there are pretty much only two things of note: In Syracuse (city within Sicily for those unaware) is the old centre of the Clan Lasombra, however it has not been in major use for roughly 600 years by this point (1400's-2000).

The second thing is that there is a Cairn there which... Werewolves I guess.

There was a third section which started talking about the Ars Goetia and how that could also relate back to Occam's sorcery but I cut it.

-

Back to the murder at hand(s) (claws?):

We can continue seeing Matilda be aggressive and defensive, we can also see her hands become visibly claw shaped when agitated:

Foreshadowing is-

Even while locked up, Matilda continues to direct attention towards both Spit and Git. Note how the episode consistently draws attention towards her, being the only non hunter who has more than a few lines (Non hunters being Spit, Git, Amanda, Matilda) and being the only one to directly point blame at any single person.

The time out box is back and with a full clear view of the symbol on the side.

The first thing I thought was mercury, due to the crescent shaped open top and the crossed centre line, however most depict mercury having a full circle and half stacked on top.

Then I realised that it was the symbol for the magic sphere of Matter. I then also found where/what the symbol properly was.

The only proper source I can find for this symbol is this researchgate proposal about unicode.

The fourth image lists the symbol as "amalgam", but oddly enough both figures 1 and 3 disagree with fig. 4 and with each other as to what the proper symbol for amalgam is.

Alchemy is weird like that sometimes, anyways I spent way too long on this moving on.

Referring to spit, the obvious odd behaviour he displayed throughout the last episode.

Funnily enough, this can be explained through the excuse Git gave before, his Ritalin (ADHD medication) wearing off. For those unaware, there is a side effect of prescriptions stimulants, specifically when they are wearing off, in which one becomes extremely tired, irritable, agitated, hungry, or anxious when their medication runs out of their system. This can be worse with children or those with comorbid mental health problems such as anxiety or depressive disorders; crashing or rebounding in extreme cases, like seen with Spit, can be a sign that the dosage of medication is wrong (too high), or simply that your body doesn't vibe with the stimulant, in which case you should consult your psychiatrist and change medications. Speaking from experience, it's never fun to crashland from being relatively normal into being a prick.

Uh considering that Git also has a nicotine dependency (seen through his desperation for getting his smokes back), I can't help but wonder what substance Brokham is using. Honestly looking at him? Anabolic Steriods.

Which is to say that... uh. Spit goes in the box.

Ok so I want to let HTP be its own thing for the most part but there is a 0% chance this isn't an intentional reference so i'll note it down:

these two paintings that mark the archive: the left is a reference to Ephrael Stern, a Sister of Battle known as the "Thrice Born" or "Daemonifuge". We can see this from the fact that she has the same blue lipstick and a cross-tattoo on the same areas as her TTS depiction.

For similar, design correlated reasons, it is safe to assume that the portrait on the right is inspired by Aurelia Malys of the Dark Eldar, whose TTS portrayal is below:

There's probably some sort of foreshadowing going on here related to Markus seeking entrance to the Archives, Magnus seeking the Black Library, and Ephrael being in the Library for most of TTS.

final note about the door, I cannot be bothered to try and find the meaning of the alchemical symbols on the door but they are there and unimportant if anyone wants to check it out.

-

These two books have visible writing.

"Immortal Divorce Court (1)" and "Vamp Dictionary"

Please skip to the next red texted note if you don't want to read Latin lessons.

"Oculus Empyrean".

When I was first watching this episode, I misheard this as "Oculus Imperium" and got very confused because that would mean "Eye control(er)" (or more strictly it would be "Eye's control")

Oculus Empyrean (sort of) translates into "Eye of Heaven". The "Sort of" comes from the fact that Empyrean comes from medieval latin/early middle english, and also because of inflection.

Taking Oculus Empyrean at face value means "Eye Heaven" (unless my Latin is finally slipping as I go senile). This is because both Oculus and Empyrean are in the nominative case.

For non inflection-language speakers: The nominative case is used when a noun is the subject of an active verb, eg.

"The Ball was kicked into a tree" where "The Ball" is the nominative noun.

"Good Girl" for example would have nominative singular Puella (girl) and genitive singular version of Bonum, Boni, (Good) to create the phrase "Boni Puella".

However, that being said, unless listing nouns (the door, the wall, the shelf, and....-) or making a direct relation between two nouns (Jon is a farmer = Jon agricola est), I don't remember a case for multiple nominative inflections in a row; This is why it is more accurately translated to just Eye Heaven.

To actually write "The eye of heaven" in Latin, inflect both Eye and Heaven in the genitive case to indicate a relation between the two (as neither noun is the subject of a verb):

Oculi caeli

(I just swapped Empyrean for Caelum because they both mean heaven) (also, if you check this on google translate, due to Oculi being both the nominative plural, and the genitive singular of Oculus (as is the case for second declination nouns) it will probably translate as "eyes(plural) of heaven")

ok back to the actual episode because ????

The newburgh group is one of the members of the Coalition (Second Inquisition), which heavily backs the arcanum.

Ok so back on the eye real quick

This isn't an alchemical symbol, believe me, I've done multiple hours of research about alchemy today alone (if I had a nickel for every time I researched alchemy in depth for a media series I would have three nickels-)

the closest I could find in any of my sources was

Attramentum Vitriolum (Black vitriol), which lacks the central dot, and Auripigment (Arsenic Sulphide, literal translation is "gold coloured"), which lacks the central dot and is tilted to 45%

We can see here that the eye projects some sort of "red beam" from its... iris? I guess? which then connects into Markus'.

The red beam may relate back to the concept of the Empyrean. We've had our alchemy lessons, we've had latin lessons, time for a mythology lesson for an esotericism trifecta.

Beforehand, when I said that Empyreum means Heaven, I wasn't lying, just simplifying. The Empyrean, in ancient european myth, is the heavens beyond our terrestrial spheres; the empyrean referred to the spheres of existence permeated and constructed from, the element of Aether, the fifth element.

This may explain the symbol of the eye itself, having 5 nodes on a cross representing the 5 elements, but that's conjecture. The important part of this potential connection to the aether is the fact that, in the 5'th century, there was an alchemical theory of "Quintessence", being a similar conceptual "fifth element" of which the heavens were made of.

Quintessence in fact literally means 5th element. Quintessence is also present in World of Darkness lore:

in essence, in Mage the Ascension, Quintessence is basically the fabric of reality. The entire tapestry of reality, all things within, are made of quintessence.

I've already gone on too many tangents so i'm stopping myself from going deeper into Mage.

I can't be fucked looking for another one, also im 90% sure that i'd be barking up the wrong tree because I do not recognise those triangle ones.

Technically one could interpret the boxes with circles inside them as being the sign for urine.

***

Update because I'm dumb:

as people have pointed out, these symbols are Hunter marks, symbols used by and recognisable to Imbued (mildly supernatural hunters).

In my defence, I'm not a hunter, so I wouldn't know.

The three symbols seen are "imbued" (on the eye), Danger (the rectangle one) and "Puppet" (Triangle)

-

as was very predicted by ms WILD who was always wearing gloves.

also from the sheer brutality, the delirium symptoms, the pinning of blame on others, the antisocial personality, claw marks all around the arcanum, and complete lack of surprise at the reveal of vampires existing.

Foreshadowing certainly WAS a literary device-

also would?

-

in the ensuing fight, D is fairly easily overpowered, gains a large neck gash from claw marks, and cuts off matilda's left arm

Remold also shoots with his... cane gun? a phosphorus bullet. Phosphorus is known for like one main thing and it is that it burns like crazy, hence why "no vampire could survive that"

-

I don't think that the reactions of each cast member are meant to actually reflect their willpower scores, except for Git and Spit who totally fit willpower 1.

That being said, time to organise each reaction into the different delirium reactions/willpower's:

Note how Grimal is strong enough to scratch into the tiling of the walls out of sheer fright.

That being said, every character in this scene, including D and Remould (which is why I'm saying that this probably doesn't fully reflect accurate stats) takes little to no action for this first section.

Also, immediately after we see the two elders, both clearly afraid, but still maintaining composure and fighting smart, think back to what D said back in the first audiolog:

"Trust your wits, not your fists"

probably somewhere around 9-10 range. 10 is defined as no reaction, and both are clearly afraid of the situation, but no matter your will, a werewolf running at you is scary.

Willpower 4, the berzerk reaction. As D put it "some may attack with extreme vigour"

In this scene here, we can hear the wound of the knife hissing after it has cut: either this is the knife "enchanted with death magicks" from the Guy Chapman audiolog, or the knife is made of silver. Either way this is called aggravated damage. Unless they changed something in W5 i've not played it.

Also this is probably just like a moth spirit or something, potentially this could be that one auspice that allows you to transport something from the umbra at will? unlikely though

willpower 4, berzerk.

Willpower.... 10? I don't think that this was an uncalculated action, I just think Markus is bad at math and doesn't know the strength of a werewolf.

I mean he had some of the shortest time between sight and thought out action, so at the very least a 7 (afraid but rational).

Also STAKE JACKET IS THE BEST IDEA.

We can assume that these are the spirits that Tilda (who from this point forward I will refer to as Tl;dr) has gifts from. Can't say which gifts, hard to say most things about spirits in general, so yeah.

in Audiolog one, we discussed: Vampires/Ghouls (which we have fought and met) Werewolves (just now fighting) (specifically Black Shuck) Witches/mages (Potentially seen?) Ghosts (wraiths); (Potentially seen?).

The mention of wizards was a specific tale of a witch, which remains unseen, and the "ghost" was that one with the well.

This marks the first named foreshadowed character appearing except for the fiddler/monk at the end of episode one.

Willpower 4: berzerk.

seems the spirit's name is Jambles? even more terrifying, the spirit might be french.

[ohmystaxk]

For there is beauty | Chapter Two: Progress takes time

[MASTERLIST] | [CHAPTER 1] | [NEXT]

Tags/Warnings: No Viktor in this chapter, Academy burnout, Jayce taking care of Reader, Jayce is so touchy, Cait and Reader being girls (I love my babies, your honor!!), Accidental fake dating, Accidental flashing, Not Beta Read.

Summary: After meeting Viktor at the library, it was time to head back to Jayce and Cait. Another day in your routine, just like any other, except you started feeling the effects of burnout after months of working hard.

Suddenly, Cait asks a question that makes you answer in a very shocking way. Why did the girl have to be so curious?

I have created playlists that I encourage you to listen to while reading (spotify, yt music and apple music) this fic!

spotify yt music apple music

Tracklist:

1. Vienna by Billy Joel 2. Matilda by Harry Styles 3. Birds of a feather by Billie Eilish

You knocked on the door three times. The books were still in your hands as you heard footsteps approaching from the other side. The door slowly opened, and in front of you stood Jayce as he looked behind him. His cologne was the first thing you noticed, perhaps it had been the sudden start to your day, but you did not remembered him wearing that cologne. He finally turned his head your way.

“There should be a pencil there somewhere.” He spoke to who you could only assumed to be Cait. His eyes met yours, and his teeth flashed as he smiled. You always liked the tooth gap on his front teeth, and you especially liked how sharp his canines looked. “Hey, you’re back!”

“Told you I wouldn’t take long.” You shrugged, tilting your head to the side waiting for him to let you in.

Jayce nodded, he leaned over and took your books from your hands. “Come in, eat your food before it gets cold.”

He smelled like bergamot, with a hint of rosemary and cedarwood.

“Are you wearing the cologne I gifted you?” you asked with a grin. To that, the man nodded with a frown.

“Yeah. I ran out of mine.” Jayce opened the door wider, giving you space to walk in. “You have good taste.” He kicked the door closed behind him.

“When do I not?”Jayce laughed as he trailed right behind you.

You reached your workbench and sat down on the stool. He put down the stack of books on the table.

When you placed down your bag, you started fishing for your notebook. The man turned around and headed towards Cait, the girl had sat down on a stool next to Jayce’s workbench, taking a bite from her food as she seemed to write things down on a piece of paper.

“So, Cait.” You started, placing down your notebook and a pile of your research notes on the table; your pencil had been the last thing. “No strange women today?” You could not help the grin that appeared on your lips.

“Nothing to report.” She said once she finished her bite.

“Good.” You nodded with a smile when Jayce narrowed his eyes at you.

“Well, except that he didn’t get a discount this time.” Cait leaned over the bench, writing some more.

“Oh, really?” You opened your notebook, flipping through the pages.

“The lady at the counter was not there today.” Cait then took another bite.

“She was sick,” Jayce explained and grabbed his food, as well as yours, and walked to you. “So, the older lady was in today.”

“What a shame, could’ve tried charming her pants off to save yourself a pretty coin.” You reached for the book on top of the stack, but Jayce placed the food in front of you and pushed the stack away from your reach.

“A bit more decorum, please.” Jayce tilted his head towards Cait. You raised your hands and smiled at him with tight lips, guilt on your features.

“My bad.” You said, crossing your leg on top of your thigh, and putting your hands down to fix the wrinkles on your skirt.

Jayce’s eyes followed your movements and then quickly shifted back to your food.

“Please eat before it gets colder.”

With full stomaches, the three of you began working. You and Jayce talked, and he would write on the chalkboard as you looked at the notes you wrote the day before. During that time, Cait would work on her homework, sometimes speaking up to ask for some help here and there. It was a routine, one that worked so well between the three of you. Jayce would sit down once in a while, his back to the bench as he leaned back, his elbows on the surface. You would stand up and pace around the room with your notebook in hand and your pencil tapping your forehead. Then the words began to look foreign as you tried to read them again, and again. You sighed heavily, turning around too quickly and tossing your notebook and pencil harshly on your workbench.

You walked to the glass door of the balcony, opening the doors, and going to lean over the railing. At this point, sunset was beginning to set. Time always went by faster when working on Jayce’s project. The complexity caused your brain to shut off the outside world. You decided it was best to simply take a break out there, the fresh air hugging your lungs so well.

Then you glanced to the horizon, from where you stood you could see parts of Zaun. A chill went up your spine, you could hear your father’s voice in the back of your mind. ‘ We have to work five times harder than they do. We have to show them who we are.’

A hand came to your lower back, you felt another shiver as you felt fingers trailing up to rest between your shoulder blades.

“You doing okay?” Jayce leaned his arm against the railing, leaning close to you.

You let out a sigh.  Closing your eyes tightly.

“It still feels surreal.” You let your head hang low.

“What does?” Jayce’s hand went down to your lower back, staying there as he leaned over even more.

“Making it out.” You said, the words tasted wrong in your mouth. “I know how much my parents have worked to give me a good life, one better than the one they had in Zaun.”

Your mind brought you back to when you were only eight, hiding behind the door of your bedroom as you heard your father talk with someone.

“Do you think this is easy? Do you think I am not scared ?” Your father spoke, hand slamming against the old dining table . “I have a wife and daughter to take care of, my priority is them. I care about this place! But I will not put them at stake here, I was given an opportunity, so I will take it.”

There was silence, a deafening one as you heard your father’s heavy breathing. Followed by a heavy sigh.

“I know.” The voice came from another man, you don’t remember his name anymore.

“I am tired of working in the mines, V. I am tired of coming home and barely being able to make ends meet with the poor fucking excuse of a payment I receive. Zoila is growing sick, I need to get them out of here.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t want to disappoint them.” You whisper, holding the rail tightly with your hands.

“You don’t,” Jayce says back softly, his hand traveling to your right shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “They know how hard you work, just how much you put into your studies.”

“I have worked on this for months, Jayce.” You turn to meet his eyes, and you want to look away. He looks deep into yours, he shows a softness and worry in them. “The words are all meshing together, they don’t even make sense.”

“You have to remember why you are doing this. Progress takes time.” He smiles gently at you, giving you a small shove.

You notice the sun starting to set, the golden glow making his skin vibrant. His eyes are even lighter, they shine like honey as they stare back at you. You can’t help when your eyes fall on his lips, a nice plumpness to them. You force yourself to glance back at him, but his eyes seem a bit darker now.

“I’m heading home!” Cait’s voice breaks you out of Jayce’s hold. You turn to look at the girl as she looks up from her spot, her eyes widening a bit. “It’s getting late.” She points out.

“I’ll walk you home.” You say, turning around and heading back inside. “I will work on this tomorrow.”

“I will take her home. Is closer to my place.” Jayce spoke from behind you.

“I want her to take me.” Cait put her bag across her chest, and her bright blue eyes stared at you. “If that is okay?”

Jayce stopped next to you. He looked at the girl before looking at you, he placed both hands on his hips.

“Sure can, Cait.” You said with a smile. You started grabbing your bag and putting everything you needed back inside. “I will probably stop by my parents’ on the way back.”

When you finally had everything ready, you turned around, bumping into Jayce.

“Don’t get home too late, alright?” You said, and took a step to the side, but he was just looking at you, his head tilted to the side. You frowned, narrowing your eyes as his eyes softened a bit. Oh, of course . “You are impossible, Talis.” 

You rolled your eyes before you stepped on your toes and leaned forward, placing a hand on his chest for support. You could see a smile forming on his lips as you placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

“That’s better, doll.” He placed a kiss on your cheek. “Say hi to your mom for me.”

You slapped his chest and stepped back. It had become a habit of his since he was fourteen, to kiss your cheek goodbye. ‘ My mom told me it’s polite .’ He had told you that it was something older people did when greeting or when leaving where his mother was from. And it is something he always did from then on.

“Tomorrow around the same time?” You walked past him.

“Yeah, I will pick you up. Will you stay over at your parents?”

“Yeah.”

Cait and you were not far from her home, the two of you talked the whole way there. You asked her about school and how that was going. She asked you about your research and noticed how stressed you looked back in the workshop. You joked with her, and you even stopped on the way to grab pastries for the two of you. Caitlyn liked being around Jayce, and so did you, but even you were aware of how nice it was to just be around her. Just two girls talking about everything and nothing at all. She was smart, witty, and always so curious. And for her, it was nice to just be able to ask you about things only you understood.

“Oh! And you should have seen her face when I shot right in the center.” She smiled big, her eyes widening as she spoke. “The target was so far, and I still hit it .”

“That’s great!” You shoved her playfully, smiling wide as you could not help but laugh at her enthusiasm. “I told you, no one will be able to mess with you.”

“Thanks,” She took a bite from her pastry.

“So, when do you have your next lesson?” You took the last bite from yours.

“Next week.” She cleaned her lips with a napkin.

“Well, you have to tell me how that goes.” When you said that, she nodded, but not before she went quiet.

Cait looked at you, then looked away. She held her pastry closer to herself.

“Is something wrong?” Your voice softened, frowning as you leaned down a bit to catch her face. “You can tell me, you know?”

“How come-.” She paused, looking your way this time. “How come you and Jayce are not together?” Her question made your brain go blank.

You stopped in your tracks.

“What?” You laughed in confusion.

“I mean, you two are always together. As friends . But, you like him, don’t you?” The question finally settled, and your heart started beating fast as you felt heat rush to your face.

“A-are you pulling my leg?” Another laugh escaped you. “Real funny, Cait.”

“No, I mean…Jayce always talks about you, all the time . And when it’s just you and me, you also talk a lot about him.” She explained.

“That’s because we care about each other. Friends talk about one another.” You walked to the trash can near you, and dumped your napkin.

“Do you talk about me?” You suddenly choked on your spit.

“W-we do…” She narrowed her eyes at you. “Okay, you got me there. But Jayce and I are just friends , we have known each other for years now. And yes, we are always around the other, but it’s because we are lab partners, we work together.”

“He is always a little too close to you.” She grimaced at the words.

“That’s how Jayce is, he is just a big…physical-touch type of person. Me, on the other hand, not so much. But he is always so…touchy?”

“Three ‘buts’ so far,” She took another bite and placed a hand on her hip. “I saw you two at the balcony, that seemed pretty close.”

“He was trying to comfort me. Listen, Cait. You have not seen Jayce when he actually likes someone. He is all smiles and compliments, he uses every charm in the book. He gives them this…stupid smile that shows his teeth, and he laughs as he tilts his head while he gives them the eyes -.”

“The eyes?” She frowned with confusion.

“Don’t worry about that.” You quickly realized where you were heading. “I don’t like Jayce. And he doesn’t like me, we are friends.”

“Well, it sounds to me like you do.” She shrugged with a sly smile.

You rolled your eyes, more heat on your face this time.

“Let’s get you home before your mom gets someone to come looking for you.” You looked away as you started walking again. Then you heard a gasp, you turned to look at Cait.

“You do like him!” She said a little too loud for your liking, pointing a finger at you. You quickly signaled her to keep quiet.

“No, I do not.” You shook your head.

“Yes, you do! For how long?” She ran to the trash can and threw her pastry away.

“Okay, I am going to keep walking.” You heard Cait quickly sprint your way.

“Why are you trying to avoid my question?” She frowned. “He likes you, I can tell.”

You sighed heavily and brought a hand to your face.

“I don’t like Jayce.” You felt your heart throb painfully as you said that.

“Why not?” She walked in front of you, turning to face you as she walked backward. “It’s not like you are not always jeal-.”

“Because I already have a partner!” You blurted out, both of you stopping in your tracks. The two of you stared at each other in shock.

“What!?” She frowned as she stared at you in utter confusion.

“Huh?”

“D-does Jayce know?” Her voice lowered, leaning forward as if the conversation was now a secret.

“N-no, he doesn’t and you can’t tell him, alright?” You pointed at her.

Why does she have to be so curious?

“Why not?” She crossed her arms at you.

“B-because…” Fuck, why would Jayce not know? You wanted to hit your head against a wall. “Because you know how he is.” Great work, genius.

“Which is?” She narrowed her eyes, arms still crossed.

“He is protective, he will want to know them, maybe even test them or something.” You wanted to keep walking, to get back to your parents’ house and fall face-first on the couch.

“Who is it?” Cait asked, and you should have known she would. “I won’t tell him. I promise.”

You knew people, you had a couple of friends from the Academy. But you were sure Cait knew most of them from when she would tag along with you and Jayce at the Academy, it had to be someone she didn’t know. You tried to think, of someone, just anyone. Then there it was, your mind flashed you those amber eyes you would see during lectures, of that pretty shade of brown hair, and of the two moles adorning his face.

“Viktor.” You said, feeling proud of yourself for quickly coming up with a name.

“Counselor Heimendinger’s assistant?” As soon as she said that, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“You know him?” You felt the heat from your face completely leave. “H-how?”

“I have seen him whenever I go with my mother to some meetings.” She scratched the back of her head, head tilted to the side as she raised an eyebrow. “Is he not…a bit too quiet?”

“Just a little, but he is nice.” You shrugged, a guilty smile on your face. Please forgive me, Viktor. “But, you can’t tell Jayce! O-or mention me to Viktor.”

“Well, I don’t talk to Viktor. But, why should I not mention you?” This time you started walking, and Cait followed you immediately.

“I will tell you later, let’s just get you home.”

When you woke up the next morning, you almost forgot you were not in your apartment. The old bed creaked as you stretched out your limbs, the springs digging into your ribs. You sat down on the bed, your old room was still how you left it when you moved out. Old posters of science fairs, drawings, and paintings you and your mother made together. On your nightstand sat two picture frames, one of you and your parents when you were about fifteen. The other was of Jayce with an arm wrapped around your shoulders, both of you with big smiles as you held a science fair award; you were sixteen, and was Jayce seventeen. You kept forgetting to take them with you.

You stood from your bed, your mother’s night dress falling down your thighs. You walked out of your room, the smell of food overtaking your lungs, making your stomach growl. You turned the corner to the kitchen and immediately paused. Seated at your kitchen table was Jayce, a cup of what you knew to be coffee in his hand. Your mother was at the stove, she laughed as Jayce said something to her. You normally did not care about what you looked like in the morning, Jayce was used to seeing you in your nightwear, but your mother was a different story. The nightgown was long, but not too much, it was loose, but the color was off-white, and it was too thin for your liking. It was the first thing your mom had pulled out of the drawer, you were just supposed to sleep with it. You took a step back; you still had time to go and change.

Then the wood floor creaked under the weight. And Jayce turned to look your way, a smile on his face.

“Hey, you are finally awake.” He looked back towards your mom, but not for long. His eyes flicked a little too quickly towards you.

Don’t say anything. You mouthed at him, widening your eyes while you pointed at him.

Jayce cleared his throat, his eyes falling on the nightgown. You knew he would not shut up about it, and would probably tease you later. It was your mom’s fault for not simply giving you a shirt and pants, or at least something of your dad. Well, no, you should have just dressed up before coming out here.

“Good morning, baby. You woke up right on time.” Your mom was still facing the stove. “Jayce here was telling me about the progress on the Jet Tech.” She waved the wooden spoon around, and some liquid flew in the air.

“Hextech, mom.” You sighed. “Good morning.” You looked back at Jayce and to your surprise, he was still looking at you, but when he realized you saw him. He cleared his throat again, focusing his attention on his coffee.

“How about you take a seat and I can-.” Your mom cut herself off, you looked at her and watched as her eyes were wide, quickly making her way to you. “Actually! Help me with something.”

You frowned as your mom grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around and making the two of you walk back toward your room.

“What do you need-.”

“Baby, the dress is a bit too see-through.” She whispered to you, and you immediately felt your face grow hot.

“What!?” You choked out, trying to look behind you, but Jayce was downing his coffee.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice which one I gave you.” You hurried to your room, swinging the door open and going straight to the mirror.

“Is this even meant for sleeping?” You spoke with horror as you noticed how sheer the dress was.

“Well…” Your mom leaned over the door frame, also looking at your reflection.

“I don’t want to know.” You hid your face in the palms of your hands.

“I will go and serve you both some breakfast.” She closed the door behind her.

It was no wonder Jayce was staring, even with the loose fabric, you were able to see underneath it. With dark lighting, it looked normal and modest. Just, not with the sunlight coming from the kitchen. You had practically flashed Jayce on a random morning, at your parents' house. You groaned into your hands.

What a way to start the day.

Taglist: @mommymilkers0526 @crvcified-kinx @night-fall-moon

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[sleeplesssmol]

HC: What if Vertin is actually less human presenting but it's harder to tell because of her suit?

For example, there are a lot of human passing arcanists like Sonetto, Matilda, Melania, etc. Then there are arcanists like Shamane and Pavia where you see them reveal inhuman qualities at Insight II. Even further down the line you have Getian and Jessica. Arcanists vary so much in shape and size (not unlike humans tbh who also have a lot of variation among our species).

Here is what I conjured up:

Vertin's Silver/gray hair and eyes have a reflective quality to them so they reflect the color of things around them. This would also explain the inconsistencies in her hair/eye color. Her hat reduces the effect since it covers her head and she usually hides on eye. This way humans don't freak out as their talking by then changing color due to changes in light around them. You'd also end up staring at your own reflection in her eyes if you stare too hard.

If you could take a mirror and weave it into threads, that's Vertin's hair. Eyes have similar effect, they're like pools of liquid mercury.

Vertin might be able navigate through dark caves, labyrinths, and streets at night because she has a better night-vision than most. If you shine a light on her in the dark, her eyes do a that thing where they light up a like a cats. Just Sonetto lighting up the kitchen with her wand and Vertin's there nomming Picrasma candy like a naughty cat who got into the treat jar.

Then what about her suit? Maybe Vertin can temperature regulate like Sonetto, AEB her crossing the dessert in it, but she's sensitive to sun? The actual UV is bad for her skin if she's out there too long. Also her hair color is not good for protection either since she has negative melanin (this would also go for her eyes and be another reason for hat).

Or you could go further off the deep end. Embrace the arcanists blood!

What if Vertin barely even has body hair so she's more vulnerable if she doesn't cover up? What if you can see arcane shenanigans under her skin so she covers it up in public? Like her veins being a weird color instead of the blue-green humans are used too. Or maybe it's her overall body type in general?

Sonetto's parade uniform is shows off more skin. The Foundation...knows that she's pretty. They know what they're doing. There was even a trail about them using pretty girls as a distraction toward the beginning of the game. While her normal uniform covers up everything, the Foundation can make exceptions.

So what if Vertin's body doesn't conform to what humanity accepts? She has a lot of androgynous features and a lot of humans we see in-game like to put things in boxes. However, there's no box for people like Vertin who show a mixture of masculine and feminine features (although we see a more than few arcanists carry these traits). Because the Foundation wants humans to feel comfortable with arcanists, it's easier to only show off things they'll accept and quietly tuck away the things that they might not be as open too. Now that Vertin isn't a little kid anymore, those contradictory features are going to be more obvious. While Vertin is free to pick her own outfits, the stigma is still there. It actually gets worse with each Storm too.

In a world like that it might be easier to navigate to cover up as much as possible so people don't have time to dwell on what you look like underneath. Perhaps arcanists don't have that same obsession of what's going on underneath other people's clothes but they are subjected to it.

What if arcanists react to the full moon? Pavia needs to howl at it. Sonetto gets restless. Druvis NEEDS to bask in it and won't be interrupted. Then how does Vertin react? Turning into an Udimo? Big naps? Or she doesn't sleep at all. She becomes a menace! Becomes super strong! Or just lays on the floor and cries.

I forgot where I was going with this but here we are.

Embrace the arcanist blood and give me your "arcanist Vertins"! I will consume.

[possiblylando]

HUNTER THE PARENTING: WHO IS THE GHOUL? (CHAPTER 5 VERSION)

Alright lads attempt to at sussing out the ghoul. Now we must first establish the ground rules I am following with this theorization. 1. There are at least 2 infiltrators currently present in the chapter house (Matilda & The Ghoul) 2. Our 2 infiltrators were working separately. (There is currently no evidence the Werewolves & Vampires are working together as such the Ghoul and Matilda working together to achieve their goals while knowing each others identities is highly unlikely.) 3. The Ghoul is present within the chapter house at this moment (This is an assumption based on the fact HTP is still a story. The ghoul just not being present would be weird and arguably bad writing as it would be a needless subversion that accomplishes very little in the story except having our main characters run around like headless chickens.) 4. The Ghoul is not anyone who has already died. (Similar reason in #2 as that would be odd writing to have the Ghoul be killed by Matilda unceremoniously. This is possible however I doubt it. This is essentially just to establish that I do not think the Ghoul is Fatigue.) 5. The present or lack of presence of the Delirium is not a deciding factor in who is the ghoul or not.* (While present in older editions, in 5th edition the Delirium is able to effect more supernatural creatures. As such someone exhibiting the Delirium during the Matilda fight does not discount them from being the Ghoul.) *If you wish to see more about the Delirium there is a good post on reddit which categories who we see and dont see under the effect of the delirium you can see it here; Delirious Eyes Guide Reddit Post

6. THE FLY IS NOT THE GHOUL WE ARE LOOKING FOR IN THIS SITUATION! (There is a very funny and horrifying theory that there are fly ghouls present throughout the series. If you wish to see more of that theory you can see it here; Fly Ghoul Reddit Post ADDITIONALLY! I will be using the timeline I've established in this post for many of the assumptions and theories made here. My own Arc 2 Timeline Tumblr Post

It's not necessary but if you want that companion piece it is present.

ESTABLISHING RULES COMPLETE!

Now we can start by ruling out the group who I am certain are not ghouls.

D, Kitten, and Marckus are not ghouls. No further explanation needed.

Matilda is not a ghoul; She is a werewolf thus excluding her (technically) from the conversation.

Occam is a solar sorcerer which would make him highly resistant to being ghouled. Additionally if he was a ghoul he would have already given the information to the regent.

Blacklaw is not a ghoul for the same reasons as Occam minus the solar sorcerery bit. Additionally it would be too convenient for the one major detractor of the D-Clan to be the ghoul. It would essentially be; Well he's bad and also the ghoul so there's no nuance there.

Next the characters whom I am mostly certain are not ghouls.

Fatigue is dead and thus him being the ghoul would be weird writing.

2. Brok follows the same reasoning as Remold with the addition that he was with Remold & Security for the entirety of the time when Occam was first attacked. Further more I do not believe Giles is the Ghoul. 1. His boss at the 99p store is already a ghoul (assumably; It's possible she is a vampire though its doubtful) and there seems to be no acknowledgement between them of such. 2. He was with Brok for the entirety of the time when Occam was attacked. Thus he would not have been able to give Grimal orders. Additionally I do not believe Harry is the ghoul. 1. He was with Marckus during the period of time in which Occam was attacked and thus would not have been able to give Grimal orders. As such these two are; Possibly ghouls but ultimately unlikely.

This leaves our actual list of ghoul suspects. 1. Elise 2. Simon 3. Grimal 4. Gloria 5. Amanda

Lets go over the evidence for each. ELISE

Elise has a lot of evidence stacked against her. 1. She stole from Giles and which ended up being a major crux in Occam's attack. 2. She gave Grimal the smokes and told her to find a place to cool off [Grimal claims not to remember this portion] 3. Elise was alone while Occam was being attacked and thus would have had open reign to move wherever and do whatever in that time. 4. As we now know due to Chapter 5, The chapter house map takes place AFTER Occam was attacked (due to Matilda being in the kitchen) which means Elise's position on floor 2 could've been her heading away from the security room after finding out Grimal did not have the hunter Data. 5. She gave Grimal her hair tie to hide the sunburn from Grimal attacking Occam. 6. D chose to interrogate her first which suggests he found her most suspicious (or that he thought she had the most useful information). Our next Candidate; SIMON (Spit)

Simon does not have as much evidence directly against him but he is still highly suspicious. 1. He was alone while Occam was attacked which would give him the ability to give Grimal commands. 2. He has been acting oddly all night. Giles claims this is because Simon is out of Ritalin. However as was established with Guy; The Regent is not exactly good at keeping her ghouls topped up. It's possible he was exhibiting symptoms of Blood withdrawal. 3. He filled his goblet with blood out of the line of sight of everyone else. It's possible he did this to switch his blood so he can not be identified as a ghoul. (However I do not know how he would do this.) 4. He was singled out by Fatigue as being rather unusual. It's possible Fatigue suspected him of being a ghoul (or some other afflicted being) and wanted to help him. (This could also just be Fatigue being a good guy and trying to help someone he could tell was suffering an episode) 5. He was under heavy effects of the Delirium (Lasted atleast the entire length of Audiolog 4.1 and until he was put into THE COLD TESSELATION) which would suggest he has every low willpower. This would make him especially susceptible to being ghouled. 6. He left the Security group early on to look for Giles' smokes since he claimed to have an idea of where they were. Next up; GRIMAL

Grimal has the most evidence against her. 1. Grimal was the only one (Aside from Matilda, who as previously established, Is not the ghoul) who was present in the security room at the time of Occam's attack. 2. She had a pre-established tendency of sneaking around the Arcanum vents and thus would know about and would be able to utilize the vent into the archives. 3. Grimal had a burn scar on her hand which suggests she was burned by Occam's solar sorcerery. She assumes it was a lighter burn however the length of the scar suggest it was Occam. This means Grimal attacked Occam and stole the Hunter Data. 4. Grimal already has pre-established ties to freedom and her lack of it. She is jealous Kitten has no arcanum oversight even saying he should be happy that he doesnt have to deal with it. 4a. In audiolog 3.7 Kitten talks about wanting to help the chapter house ghoul. Due to his connection to Grimal (due to being her EX) this would help further establish both of their characters in such an extreme situation. 5. Grimal has been established to be very physically strong. She was able to lift/carry Marckus (Who is like 6'5'' or some ridiculous shit) in Audiolog 3.3 and was able to CLAW THROUGH BATHROOM TILES (This was right before Matilda attacked; 43:21 in the C5 video if you want to check for yourselves)

Furthermore she was able to survive a direct (probably) full strength hit from Matilda and still had enough energy to drag herself away.

As has been established several times; Ghouls get increased physical abilities just by being ghouls so its possible her strength and durability are a result of that. (She could also be built different but due to the BATHROOM TILE CLAWING I doubt it) 6. Remold chose her and Amanda to "interrogate" first which suggests he found the two of them the most suspicious. (However due to them both being women this could be Remold being a misogynist.) FURTHERMORE OUTTHERE EVIDENCE 7. There are theories that Grimal intentionally put the hunter data in the smokes when she took them from Matilda and threw them to Giles. However I do not believe this theory as it would require a slight of hand skill Grimal has never previously shown. Additionally we know Grimal is very emotional and was clearly angry while throwing Giles the smokes. Evidence AGAINST Grimal being the ghoul. 1. Grimal has no memory (or atleast claims to have no memory) of the time Occam was being attacked. This suggests she was under the influence of the ghoul while she attacked Occam. However I do not believe this is entirely solid evidence to her innocence (As I will go into more later). Next we have; GLORIA

Gloria has very little solid evidence as to her ghouldom. 1. She was alone during Occams attack which would give her ample opportunity to give Grimal orders. 2. She was suspiciously quick to appear at the Archives (As if she knew Occam had been attacked already) Finally; AMANDA

Amanda is in the same boat as Gloria. 1. Her location before Occam's attack and during it are unknown. Matilda was not with her after Occam's attack due to her going to security and ending up with the smokes and hunter data. As such she would have been anywhere at the time of Occams attack which would have given her the chance to give Grimal orders. 2. Remold chose her and Grimal for "Interrogation" which suggests he found the two of them the most suspicious. (Thought again; Could just be Remold Misogyny I'm not sure) 3. Due to being a cleaner she could've been a ghoul before being hired and found a way to get into the Chapter House via getting hired. Bonus! 4. She mentions 'I'm just processing the fact Vampires are real' which could suggest either that she isnt the ghoul (due to not knowing vampires exist) or she is the ghoul (and is lying about not knowing about vampires to cover her tracks). This piece of evidence is completely pointless as it proves and/or disproves NOTHING! So... Of our 5 suspects; Who is the ghoul?

From most to least likely I would order our suspects as such. 1. Grimal 2. Elise 3. Simon 4. Gloria 5. Amanda We have a few potential routes. 1a. Grimal is the ghoul and DOES NOT remember attacking Occam. 1b. Grimal is the ghoul and DOES remember attacking Occam (And is lying). 2. Someone else is the ghoul and gave Grimal the orders to attack Occam. Now heres the truth nuke; I think 1a is what happened. We know the Chapter House Ghoul's Master is the Regent. Since the Regent is a 7th generation vampire (established in the kevin audiolog) this means she likely has ATLEAST the 3rd dot on all 3 of her base Tremere disciplines. 5th Edition is PROBABLY the version they're taking the most inspiration from for the vampiric abilities in HTP due to the older edition rules for Dominate being much weaker at lower levels.

These classic rules would not allow for the ghoul to issue any orders to Grimal as complex as crawling through the vent, attacking occam, then stealing the hunter data. However the 5th edition rule set would.

All of this is just to establish why I think 5th Edition's rules are the more accurate ones in the HTP verse. Heres what I think is happening in situation 1a. Grimal IS the ghoul but she did not willingly attack Occam. I believe she was forcefully turned into a Ghoul and may not even be aware of it (Thought she might be). The Regent implanted an order into Grimal's head using the Submerged Directive ability and removed/changes Grimals memories of being a Ghoul using The Forgetful Mind. So lets play this out. 1. Grimal is ghouled and turned into a sleeper agent. 2. When backed into a corner w/ the D-Clan's arrival Grimal's Manchurian candidate memories activate and cause her to attack Occam and steal the hunter data. (I believe the orders are something like 1. Protect your identity as a sleeper ghoul; 2. Steal the hunter data & return it to the regent) 3. Grimal returns to the Security room and forgets about her activates while in the Archives. She puts the Hunter Data (probably just somewhere on the table, maybe even in the smokes I'm not sure). 4. Matilda enters the room and sees what's happened and snatches the data and the smokes. 5. After Matilda leaves, Elise enters security and sees that Grimal has been burned. Elise wants to protect her friend (she might believe Grimal is the ghoul or was just controlled by the ghoul) so gives her the hairband. 5a. It's possibly Elise would've tried to divulge this information but she kept getting interrupted both by the Blacklaw D-Clan scuffle and Marckus barging in on her and D's interrogation then again when Remold wouldn't let her speak after Grimal's burn was discovered. Alright then what of the other options; I think 1b is the least likely option as everything surrounding the Chapter 5 Grimal reveal suggests Grimal really doesn't have any memory of the events. If Elise is the Ghoul Elise as the ghoul is rather straight forward. She robbed Giles, Gave Grimal the Key and Smokes, Used Dominate on Grimal and made her attack Occam and steal the Hunter Data, She then got to security too late and found the Data was already gone (taken by Matilda). If Simon is the Ghoul Simon went to look for Giles smokes which could suggest him being the ghoul. If he claimed to know where the smokes were that could mean he met with Grimal in the security room after Elise gave him the smokes then he gave Grimal orders. He returned to security later and found the Data & smokes gone (again, taken by Matilda) which then causes him to start panicking. If Gloria is the Ghoul Same story as Simon. She entered security after Grimal and gave her orders. She then left (perhaps returning later to find the data and smokes gone) and lingered around near the Archives being worried about Occam's safety. If Amanda is the Ghoul Same story as the past two. During the time she wasn't with Matilda she gave Grimal her orders, probably going to get the data later when Matilda wasn't around. I think Amanda is the least likely because she hasn't gotten enough focus to suggest she's the ghoul. Additionally if Amanda is the ghoul she probably would know the Data was hidden in the smokes and might've made more of an effort to get them from Matilda. CONCLUSION! From most likely to least likely I believe the options are as follows 1. 1a (Grimal is the ghoul and isn't faking memory loss) 2. 2(Elise) (Elise is the ghoul and manipulated Grimal) 3. 2(Simon) (Simon is the ghoul and manipulated Grimal) 4. 2(Gloria) (Gloria is the ghoul and manipulated Grimal) 5. 1b (Grimal is the ghoul and is faking memory loss) 6. 2(Amanda) (Amanda is the ghoul and manipulated Grimal)