#or at least i wasn't seeking her out like the others on the list!!!

[dykefever]

btw !!

[vigilante-3073]

Blue Or Pink?

James Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: House makes some observations about Doctor Y/N L/N. He is absolutely certain that she is pregnant with Wilson's child, but something seems amiss.

TW: Pregnancy, mentions of weight gain/breast size/nausea and vomiting/miscarriage, medical diagnosis.

House stood outside the Pediatric unit, watching Doctor L/N-Wilson through the window as she spoke with the parents of a patient. She had been married to Wilson for almost two years and things had been stable.

Normal.

Predictable.

But House began to notice small changes in Doctor L/N-Wilson. At first they seemed insignificant, but then the little nothings turned into big somethings.

First it was the tiredness, she'd whine about being exhausted before resting her head on Wilson's shoulder in the cafeteria. It was nothing special, just an overworked Pediatrician who gave everything to her patients.

Secondly, House noticed a change in how she responded to smells. She refused to kiss Wilson after he drank his morning coffee, the smell making her stomach churn. It could have been an anomaly, but then he changed his cologne. Wilson liked his cologne and had used the same one for as long as House had known him. A new cologne could have been gifted to him, but Wilson wouldn't have used a different scent without some other motivation. It seemed obvious to House that L/N's smell-associated nausea had caused the switch.

Thirdly, it was how emotional she had become. L/N had always been an emotional lightweight with a heart of gold, but House could see a difference in her. She didn't seek out comfort from Wilson on a routine basis, only when she had lost someone or experienced an emotionally taxing case. Then he noticed her coming and going from his best friend's office with red, watery eyes at least once a week. Her heightened emotional state could be due to the loss of some boring little rugrat who drew her a picture of a butterfly once, but it seemed more intense than that.

Fourth thing he noticed was the vomiting, she was very discreet about sneaking away to upchuk in the hospital bathroom, but not discreet enough to escape his watchful eye. She was constantly chewing mint gum or sucking on breath mints while carrying a toothbrush in the pocket of her lab coat.

Fifth thing was an increase in cup size and a sudden progressive weight gain. It wasn't anything excessive, but it was enough to have her clothing fit more snugly before she gave up and bought new clothes.

Sixth was the appointment. Wilson and L/N snuck away to an "early lunch" after talking to Cuddy. They were both Department heads and didn't need to speak to the Dean of Medicine before stepping out for an hour.

The anomalies were piling up into a rather perfect list of symptoms.

Chase made his way over to House, frowning as he stared through the glass, "What are you looking at?" Chase asked.

"Doctor L/N-Wilson," House stated.

His eyes followed her as she separated from the parents, walking over to the nursing station.

"Why?" Chase asked uncertainly.

"She has a parasite," House said, Chase's head snapped in his boss' direction.

"What? How do you know?" Chase questioned, turning to look at her again.

"I just know. It would take too long to explain," House said, turning and walking off.

...

Wilson and L/N sat on the couch in their apartment, her back was leaned against his side and her legs were stretched out across the couch cushions. Wilson's arm was wrapped around her as he flipped through the channels on the television. L/N stared down at her book, turning the page before closing her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"You alright?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Tired," She sighed.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Wilson questioned.

"No, I'll be okay. I like spending time with you," L/N said, eyes fluttering open.

Wilson smiled, pressing a kiss to her head as she returned to her book. He turned his head towards the television before someone knocked at the door.

L/N sat up, setting her book down on the cushion beside her.

"I'll get it," Wilson said, setting the remote down and making his way over to the door.

He opened the door, sighing when he saw House standing on his doorstep.

"Your wife has a parasite," House stated.

"Thank you so much for letting us know. We'll have her admitted for treatment in the morning," Wilson said sarcastically, "Goodnight, House," Wilson stated, moving to close the door.

House stuck his foot in the doorway, blocking the door from closing before pushing his way into their apartment.

"House, what are you doing here?" L/N asked.

"You have a parasite, Doctor L/N-Wilson," He said.

"No, I don't. Go home, House," She said, standing up from the couch and moving to step past him.

"It has arms and legs. It looks adorable in a onesie. Chromosomes of XX or XY with eyes like mommy and glorious hair like daddy. Lucky bugger will even get two Christmases when you two separate," House said.

"We're not separating," Wilson snapped.

"That's besides the point," House said, returning his attention to L/N, "Oh, and I stumbled across this," House said, holding up a document displaying a positive pregnancy blood test result.

"How did you-" She started, snatching the paper from his hand, "Did you break into my office? And my desk?" L/N questioned incredulously.

"I should be saying mazel tov. Congratulations on the little rugrat," House said.

L/N smacked him in the arm, "You're an ass," She snapped, folding up the paper.

"I thought you'd be screaming it from the rooftops," House said.

"Forgive me for being cautious," She huffed, sitting back down on the couch.

"You're almost four months along. Way past the danger zone for early miscarriage," House stated, eyes flickering over her.

House looked up at Wilson, he shook his head, silently pleading with his friend not to continue.

"You've lost a pregnancy before," House said.

"House-" "Three," L/N replied, looking up at him.

"House, get out," Wilson said.

"He was going to find out at some point, James. I'm surprised he didn't steal my medical records already," L/N said.

"Another hospital, too much work," House shrugged.

"Can you grab a copy of the sonogram?" She asked, Wilson nodded, making his way down the hallway before returning with a photograph.

He held it out to House, he took the photo and stared down at it, "The fetus has your nose," House said, "Mind if I keep this?" He asked.

"Sure," L/N nodded, leaning back against the couch.

"Why do you- You know what? Nevermind," Wilson sighed, sitting down beside L/N and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I'll see myself out. Congratulations on the kid," House said, making his way over to the door and out of their apartment.

...

House sat at his desk, staring down at the sonogram as his team discussed their most recent case. House tilted his head, thumb brushing over a darkened area on the scan.

"House?" Cameron questioned loudly.

He looked up to find Chase, Cameron and Foreman staring at him expectantly. House turned the sonogram photo and held it up for the team to see, "New case. Tell me what's wrong with this picture," He said.

Cameron huffed, "We need to solve our first case before moving on to something else. We should do a transesophageal echo to rule out a blood clot and to-" "Sure, but first, tell me what's wrong with this picture," House repeated.

Chase squinted, leaning in closer to view the sonogram, "Looks fine to me. Roughly four months along, I'd say," Chase shrugged, straightening back up.

"Wrong, thanks for playing. You two," House said, looking up at Foreman and Cameron.

Cameron shook her head before letting out a defeated sigh, she leaned in and scanned the sonogram silently.

"The fetus is undersized for gestational age. Can we go now?" Foreman asked.

"Nope. Try again," House said.

"There's a mass," Cameron said softly, taking the sonogram from House's hand.

"Yeah, it's called a baby," Chase muttered.

"No, there's a membrane around it," She said, stepping over to the x-ray view box and holding it up to the light.

House stood from his chair, staring at the sonogram over her shoulder. He took the photograph from her hand, "Do the echo," House said, grabbing his cane and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Cameron asked.

"To locate a pregnant woman," House stated.

...

L/N made her way across the lobby towards the clinic, "Y/N," Wilson called. She turned to face him, "Did House page you?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah, did he page you too?" L/N questioned.

"This can't be anything good," Wilson muttered, hand resting on the small of her back as they entered the clinic.

They made their way over to the exam room House had paged them to.

L/N knocked before opening the door, she and her husband stepped into the exam room, "What do you need, House?" L/N asked.

"You. Hop up on the table," House instructed, pulling over the portable ultrasound machine.

"House, she already has an obstetrician," Wilson said.

"Well, your obstetrician is an idiot," House said, turning on the ultrasound machine.

"I'm going back to work," L/N sighed, stepping over to the door.

"I saw something in your sonogram," House stated.

L/N hesitated, "What was it?" She asked.

"I have an idea, but I need to get a look at the thing," House said, gesturing to the exam table.

L/N looked over at Wilson before reluctantly getting up on the table and laying back. Wilson moved over to her side as she pulled up her blouse.

House squeezed some gel onto her belly before moving the wand across her skin. The soft thump of their baby's heartbeat filled the room as House stared up at the screen.

"Your baby has a roommate... Sneaky little sucker that leaves its dishes in the sink and trashes the place so they lose the security deposit," House said, typing on the keyboard.

"What is it?" Wilson asked, holding onto her hand tightly.

House turned the screen towards them, "A cyst," He said.

"It's solid," Wilson said softly, stomach dropping as he saw the possibly cancerous mass growing in his wife's belly. The oncologist within him already formulating treatment plans and survival rates.

"Sometimes. This week it's solid, two weeks ago it was liquid," House said, holding up the previous sonogram.

"I have cancer?" L/N mumbled shakily, eyes glossing over with tears as she looked up at Wilson.

"Nope, think hairy with a nasty bite," House said.

"A dermoid cyst?" L/N questioned.

"Bingo," House said, "Your baby is small for gestational age, but your fundal height is bang on. Someone else is taking up space," House said.

"Your miscarriages hid the symptoms and the cyst is likely to create more problems as it continues to grow. I scheduled you for a laproscopic removal tomorrow evening and notified your idiotic OB," House continued, putting down the ultrasound wand.

He held up a tissue, allowing L/N to wipe the gel from her stomach. She pulled down her blouse and sat up on the exam table.

"I still want to test your blood for cancer markers, but the chances of a dermoid cyst being cancerous are slim to none," House said, standing from his stool and gathering supplies.

"Your hubby can do all the testing," House said.

He tied the tourniquet around her arm and drew a few vials of blood to test. Wilson stood close to her side, his hand resting against her back reassuringly as they processed the information.

"Did the cyst cause my miscarriages?" She asked softly.

House shrugged, "Probably... The ugly thing is taking up all the beachfront property and keeping it from possible long-term residents. Bad for business, especially if business involves pregnancy," House said.

L/N huffed a laugh, leaning into Wilson's chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. Wilson pressed a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping his arm around her waist securely.

"The baby is going to be okay," Wilson assured, L/N nodded.

"I'll leave you two to do whatever married people do," House said, grabbing the vials of blood and his cane.

"House, wait," L/N said, pulling away from Wilson. She hopped off the table and stepped over to House.

He stiffened as she hugged him before slowly wrapping his arms around her, "Thank you," She said softly.

"You're welcome," House replied.

[enha-doodles]

SLYTHERIN GUYS - MOST-TO-LEAST LIKELY TO FALL IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT | ✧⁺。

Note : AHH I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ONE , I got this as a request in my messages and loved it !! It's my first mtl so I hope y'all like it and if you guys do then I'll probably do more of these 🤭🤭 Also i ranked them first and the reasons are written down in the same order they are ranked :)

Pairing : (mattheo , Tom , theodore , Lorenzo , Draco) x reader

Warnings : cursing , a bit toxicity ? mention of killing in one part

Most likely ↑

Lorenzo

Theodore

Draco

Mattheo

Tom

Least likely ↓

。　　　　✧　　REASONS　　⁺　 　 　。 .

1. Okay starting with Lorenzo I just feel like he's a very fluffy , very poetic , knowledgeable guy (my bros a nerd🤓-) . He really understands and observes people , sometimes it can be a bit stalkerish but eh doesn't matter because it's not like he's one with good intentions , he's in slytherin for crying out loud ? But in the process of this if he sees you and you are exactly his type which is exactly like him then BAM!! You're his new obsession . He thinks he's very smart but he's just gullible in my opinion.

2. Theodore nott . Guy who is just as romantic as he is monotonous . I just feel like because he wasn't loved that much by his "family" he seeks it out where and offcourse he likes pretty girls . So if you're caring , outgoing and basically just pretty he'll fall in love with you very quickly . I also kinda feel like he's a bit naive in those things - like he's the type to date a girl he liked at first sight and if she's not good / cheats on him / acts like she's his mother - then he'd break up and become a manwhore . Still very much up on the list to do it again .

3. Draco seems like a lovesick puppy to me solely because he's never recieved any love properly except for his mother which doesn't really count but whatever. He'll probably fall in love at first sight if you're badass but that doesn't mean he'll admit it ? He'll bully you to get close to you then somewhere between just admit due to too much pressure and teasings from his friends . Don't expect him to apologise tho , i know we're all wise enough for that . And please don't be in gryffindor and dream about a malfoy , like seriously please .

4. Mattheo in my opinion is just a born manwhore so he's not most likely to fall in love at first sight . I just see him hooking up alot but then again there's a chance he might if you're different to him than other girls. But I also feel like he'll mistake his love as a challenge and just blow the whole thing out 😭😭 Plus point if you're a slytherin and you're flirty , that could definately grab his attention and make him fall in love with you and GOD FORBID if you also smoke then you'll probably be married to him .

5. You are either on weeds or highly delusional to even think this man is capable of falling in love . Or you've just read too many fanfictions lmao . Tom is super hardworking and overall a very work oriented person so i don't think he interacts with girls much ? Only to connections that can help him , so yeah he's the least likely one . Forget about frst sight , even a love potion won't make him fall in love . Also I feel like even if he DOES fall in love which would be impossible , but if he does then he'd either ice out the poor girl , kill her or force her to marry him . There's no in between "trying out" bullshit here .

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　 　 　。

TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath

[necrotic-nephilim]

@sasheneskywalker i love when you enable me to ramble about things because oh my god do i have thoughts.

so recently, i made a post discussing the phenomena of DC x DP and DC x MLB crossovers and why they exist and part of that post was discussing how largely speaking, at least half, if not more of the Batfamily fandom doesn't read the comics. if they interact with canon DC material, it's adaptations that are their own sequestered universes and oftentimes not remotely comic accurate or seeking to be. the most obvious example is the Young Justice cartoon. i'm adding a cut to this post because it just got so long i'm so sorry.

a lot of times, when people are discussing the "why" of this oversaturation of fanon-only fandom, they blame Wayne Family Adventures. and i think, to a point, i agree WFA is responsible for a boom in this fandom. but as someone who's been in the fandom long before we had WFA, to me it's the other way around. WFA was DC's way of meeting the demand for this easy-to-get-into, easy-to-consume content about the Batfamily that predicates itself on the comics just enough to be vaguely the same characters, but has a more sitcom, slice-of-life sort of vibe so DC could profit off of this section of the fanbase that otherwise wasn't consuming its primary material. and well, it's definitely worked. not only that, but i have a weird theory that the decline in the MCU also led to the rise in the Batfamily fandom. when you consider the fan content that made the MCU popular within fandom, it's that 2012 "they all live in Avengers Tower and Thor is eating poptarts and Clint is in the vents and there are movie nights every Friday" sort of vibe. those were the fics that were a hallmark of the fandom. and as the MCU has strayed from well... quality content in general, but specifically well-thought-out crossover content where characters can have their own arcs but also exist in a wider story where they clearly care about each other, that fandom was sort of homeless. so where do you go, if you like a superhero found family where you can have villains for angst but also stick them all in one big family-like home for silly crack and have a plethora of options for gay ships? well. you go to the Batfamily. if you write a crack/fluff Batfamily genfic with silly vibes and low stakes instead of say, a fic about a very specific comic issue even if it's a popular comic, you're *going* to get more traction for the former. because the fanbase largely just isn't reading the comics.

and i feel... complicated about this. because on one hand, Don't Like Don't Read has been a tenet of my fandom experience. i'm very pro-fandom and that includes fandom content i don't like. and to an extent, i do think this sort of should apply to Batfamily fanon. i enjoy having my moments with other comic purists, giggling over exceptionally painful OOC headcanons or even facepalming in pain over some content but it is on me to not interact with that content. you don't make fandom a better place by being hostile to fans who engage with canon in ways you don't approve of. and frankly? we as comic readers are not going to get non-comic fans to read the comics by being asshats to them. no one is going to want to pick up any comic if we get a superiority complex about it. and also, i feel like we're all lying to ourselves a little bit insisting comics are so, so easy to get into. they're not. we can just all agree, they're really not. i've been single-handedly helping my sister get into comics, specifically Wonder Woman and no matter how simple i make it, i watch her get frustrated trying to understand what pre-Crisis and post-Crisis and New-52 and Flashpoint and all these things mean and what a retcon vs a reboot is and what a Crisis Event is and what the hell Diana's current backstory even *is*. sure, you can give someone a beginner list of comics to start with and slowly dip their toes in the water but sooner or later, *something* is going to confuse them. comics as a medium straight up aren't going to be everyone's cup of tea. and if someone *just* wants to read silly fluffy fanfiction about the Batfamily, i can't entirely begrudge them for not wanting to take the hours and hours out of their day to understand this medium. it's not an accessible medium to get into. "read this and this, but this run is out of print and this run wasn't collected in trades at all but also make sure you read that event in order and this is a good comic but the backstory in it is retconned and you *have* to read this it's so important but it's also really bad because the author kind of sucks" sounds. ridiculous for someone who like. just wants to read some stuff about Nightwing. sometimes, we all make reading comics sort of sound like a chore, not a hobby.

so my point is, i do extend some grace to Batfamily fanon for existing. i think my biggest gripe is, as i said in my other post, misuse of tags (if you're not creating content about comics, maybe you don't need the comics fandom tag on Ao3, just the all media types umbrella tag) and my far bigger gripe: when panels are taken out of context to support fanon only headcanons. if i could impart *anything* onto the Batfamily fandom as a comic fan it'd be this: if you haven't *read* the comic, don't spread the panel. if you don't even know what comic it's *from*, don't spread the panel. it's fine to use comic panels to discuss your headcanons, but so often i see someone spreading a comic panel from a comic they haven't read, and when asked where it's from, they can't source it. a silly example that comes to mind is a post going around, taking a panel where Dick, in his internal monologue goes "here comes the sun. do do do do." and the post is claiming it's from him getting buried alive. when that panel comes from Nightwing (1996) #140, and he gets buried alive in Nightwing (1996) #127, two completely different moments frankensteined together. if you're going to not read the comics, that's completely fine, but unless you're sure of the source and the context, panels shouldn't be spread around. i'm sick of this specifically happening to Red Robin (2009), with ppl claiming Tim has totally killed people because he blew up some of Ra's' bases, when those panels within context, make it clear he gave everyone time to escape. and in a later arc in that very comic, Tim grapples with the idea of murdering Captain Boomerang, and *specifically chooses not to*, because he doesn't agree with murder, even against the person who has hurt him the most. if you'd like to write fanfiction where Tim is pro-murder and has done some sketch things, i'm totally on board and would probably like to read it. but there's no need to pretend it's canon from a few panels you saw out of context.

beyond that, i think it's not *entirely* correct to say that fanon is harmless. whenever i see very WFA-positive posts, they often default to the argument that WFA is fun and silly, and comic fans are killjoys for not liking it. which. i think is complicated because the issue is, WFA and fanon don't exist in a vacuum. if you like WFA power to you, i don't think it's the worst thing ever, but i do think it's degrading to these characters because honestly? they feel incompetent in the webtoon. it's one thing if WFA was solely a slice-of-life sort of deal, just having silly episodes where Bruce is taking on a PTA mom or they're all fighting for the last cookie. but when WFA attempts to take on more serious plots with these characters, it *fundamentally* falls flat in understanding them. i get it, Bruce comforting Jason having a panic attack because a noise reminded him of the crowbar felt cute in a microcosm, but i'm so serious when i say that storyline destroyed how like. half of this fandom understands Jason Todd's relationship to his trauma. it doesn't understand how he reacts when he's triggered, what coping mechanisms he seeks out, and how he would handle Bruce comforting him. even if i can believe for a brief moment Jason *would* be triggered by something like that, him running and trying to hide and then getting a hug from Bruce to make it okay is just. painful. WFA needs everything to be wrapped up in a nice, neat little bow. so even when it starts to tackle interesting concepts, it makes them fall flat with its need to be soft, low stakes, hurt/comfort. there was a two-parter episode that dealt with the complicated mutual hatred/jealousy between Tim and Damian that *almost* really interested me because for once, it felt like the webtoon wanted to explore canon messy dynamics. but of course, it had to be fixed with one conversation and a hug. you don't mend the *years* of issues these characters have like that. WFA isn't in character because these characters are hyperbole cartoonified versions of themselves to fit within the medium and be a cute happy family.

because that right there, is the crux of it. the Batfamily fanon seeks to simplify the Batfamily and force them into a nuclear family. there are so many fantastic posts on here discussing how the nuclear family-ification of the Batfam is eroding decades worth of complex histories so i won't go too far into that. but what i will say is that there's this need, in the Batfamily fandom, for the Batfamily to exist as a unit. they are a *family*. (honestly i think calling it the Batfamily is a misnomer and has been for years but we're in too deep now.) they exist to each other first, and any teams or friends they have come secondary to this family unit. you can *specifically* see this demonstrated in what headcanons are becoming popular these days. i have an entire lengthy meta in my drafts about how i *loathe* the "the Batfamily meets the Justice League" genre of fanfic because it makes no *sense*. in order to have this genre of fic exist, you must operate under the assumption that no one in the League, or adjacent to the League, knows the Batfamily exists and are thus utterly shocked to discover Batman has kids. and to make *that* work, you have to strip *every single Batfamily member* of such important dynamics and friendships so you can lock them all in Gotham for their whole lives. Dick can't have the Titans, Tim can't have Young Justice, Duke & Cass can't have the Outsiders, Jason can't have the Outlaws, Damian can't have the Supersons, Babs can't have the Birds of Prey, and so on. because if they had these relationships, they would be known to the League. the Batfamily fandom doesn't care about this, it's just "silly fanfiction", it's not trying to be serious. but how can you say you like Dick Grayson as a character if you don't understand the Titans *are* his family? at some points of his life, moreso than the Batfamily even is. it is constantly repeated to us in most comics with Dick how much the Titans mean to him. he *needs* them to be who he is. the same extends to every other Batfamily member, most of which have been full League members at this point. but in fanon, that doesn't matter. the Batfamily are a sequestered unit first, and all of those side relationships are secondary and easy to toss away, if it makes your fanfic work better.

and because they have to be a unit first, you have these forced relationships that dump years of actual canon material for the sake of making them get along. the Batfamily fandom has its favorites and well. it's no secret it's usually the boys. Jason and Tim by *far* stand out as fandom faves so, their dynamic is a heavily explored one. it does matter that in canon they don't tend to get along and especially don't see each other as family. what matters is that you can push dynamics onto them. and so fanon gets all twisted up about which Robin Tim actually idolized as a kid (Dick) and what member of the Batfamily is pro-murder but still an older sibling figure to him and looks out for him (Helena, or if you want the dynamic of once tried to harm Tim but they've reconciled, Jean-Paul) in favor of who's the most popular. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian are always going to be the standouts for popularity, but it's specifically Jason and Tim who are getting fanonized the most. and that's because really, we don't have much canon content of Tim that *isn't* the comics. for Dick you've got Young Justice (tv), for Damian you've got the DCAMU, for Jason you've sort of got the Under The Red Hood movie, but Tim sort of lingers in this limbo. (yes, he's in Young Justce (tv) and Titans (live action) but in neither is he the main character nor given much depth) so, he gets a *lot* projected onto him and has become fanonized. and even with Jason's animated movies, you don't see him interact with Tim, so people build it from the ground up how they want to see it, disregarding of canon comics. i think it's what makes him so popular in the first place- he's malleable into whatever you want or need him to be.

and of course, the fanon ignores other characters in the Batfamily it doesn't know about. i feel like you could create a tier list of Batfamily characters by their popularity, going from the fandom main characters: Tim, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Damian. to the underrated: Steph, Duke, Babs, Cass. to the forgotten about unless they're convenient for a story: Kate, the Foxes, Helena Wayne, Carrie, Selina, Harper Row, Maps, Minhkhoa Khan. to the absolutely unknown: Helena Bertinelli, Jean-Paul Valley, Onyx Adams, the Clovers, Julia Pennyworth. it's not lost on me that the ignored characters tend to be women and people of color. which is both a canon and fanon problem, DC will continue adding interesting characters to the Batfamily, play with them for a few years, then drop them to default to the "Batboys" again. and it's a vicious cycle of the fandom only caring about the "Batboys", and thus people entering the fandom via fanon osmosis won't have content about the other characters, therefore, they won't be interested in those characters enough to create it, and it's just this ouroboros consuming itself, no matter how much canon content we have of these other characters. and it's ridiculous just how large the Batfamily is becoming because of this, which is why i'm a pre-Flashpoint fan, because then the Batfamily was contained enough to actually feel like a family with every character having nuances relationships with each other, but i digress because those thoughts could be their own post.

and the thing about fanon is it doesn't exist in a vacuum. DC has started turning the comics to accommodate for what fans are asking for, because fans will beg and beg for content they're not going to consume. Tim Drake: Robin had Tim as a coffee drinker because that's the fanon accepted headcanon. and the resolution of the recent Gotham War arc was for Bruce to buy this new manor for everyone to move in and call him. nevermind that most of these characters have their own homes and have zero reason to be moving in with Bruce. Tim had his marina in Tim Drake: Robin, Dick has Bludhaven, Cass and Steph have their little side of town in Batgirls (2022), and so on. these characters are being forced together as a unit, as one big happy family living together, to appease what non-comic fans want and it's damaging comic relationships. Robin: Knight Terrors saw Jason and Tim team up and working together, which i've seen varying opinions on but i personally despised. their interactions made zero sense for any of their canon history, but it appeases them being this close sibling relationship that fanon acts like they are. also the fears they faced in their respective knight terrors didn't make sense for either character and *only* worked as a moment of bringing them together so they could reassure each other and have this weird dreamscape bonding moment. the canon is bending itself to the will of fanon rather than building on the pre-existing complex relationships. Tim barely even gets along with his most important team in Dark Crisis: Young Justice because it seems the only important relationships the Batfamily can have is with each other. and when we do see them outside of the Batfamily, it only seems to be to relive the glory days like with World's Finest: Teen Titans, instead of developing them as they currently exist. this isn't recent in the comics, it feels like you can trace it back to the New-52, but it does feel a *lot* worse over the recent years. WFA is fine when it exists in its own bubble, but the simple truth is, DC content never exists on its own. the adaptations will reflect back onto the comics. (the damage the Young Justice cartoon has done to some characters should honestly be studied) and so it does frustrate me a bit when fanon-only or adaptation-only fans act like we're being nothing but killjoys for being frustrated with this. since they don't read the comics, they don't see how the comics are suffering as a result of this.

people argue about what's out of character for the comics they don't even read. i'm sorry, but "bad dad Bruce" is consistently canon. that man is just kind of shitty. when you take someone who has the drive he has, who has this need for the Mission first, who needs a teenager in spandex next to him to keep him off the ledge, that guy is sort of going to be a shitty father figure. he just is. not on purpose or with malice, but when you compare him to any other dad in a big DC family, he sure takes the cake. it's why characters like Oliver Queen tend to *really* fucking hate Bruce for how he treats his kids. Bruce loves fiercely, but he doesn't do well with putting that love first. and his love is a controlling one, he is very particular about controlling how others in the Batfamily are "allowed" to operate. it's what drives the wedge between him and Dick, it's why Steph is never a true daughter to him. (besides the reason of her needing to be a love interest to Tim first, anyway-) i've never understood the massive outcry of people reacting to Bruce kinda being shitty in comics they're not reading. there are some moments that get ridiculously OOC with how cartoonishly evil he is (the whole Gotham War arc and that... complicated mess with Jason) but largely if you want sitcom loving nuclear father Bruce, you have to accept that is a fanon thing, not a canon one. the Batfamily being a nuclear family in *general* is fanon. most of the "Batkids" don't actually see Bruce in a particularly fatherly light and begging for moments where he calls them his kids or they call him dad outside of incredibly specific circumstances is just OOC.

it's getting harder and harder to exist peacefully in this fandom it feels like, if you don't comply to the standard fanon has set. i'm happy people are having fun with their blorbos, even if in ways i dislike, but that "harmless fandom fun" does ripple it's way back to canon, eventually. so i end up pretty tangled with my feelings because are fans at fault for DC making these poor decisions? probably not, but it certainly feels like an unfortunate cause-and-effect situation whether at the end of the day, nobody is happy. and of course, i know some fanon-only fans are striving to be more canon accurate and care about canon dynamics more than others, but for them it's always going to be an uphill battle with the above-mentioned out-of-context panels thrown around and ever-pervasive fanon overtaking anything that's truly seeking to be canon compliant. so really, it sometimes feels like we're all losing.

[streets-in-paradise]

In These Arms - Achilles x (Fem) Trojan!Reader

Warnings: Paris dumped the reader for Helen before she gets to meet Achilles. Includes break up angst + discussion of cheating.

Summary: Heartbroken and publicly humilliated after being abandoned by Paris, you seek peace in the promise of giving up on men without realizing the consequences of his actions would find you one last time.

Turned into a war prisoner and handled to the leader of the myrmidons, the unusual comfort of your master offers you a second chance.

Note: Inspired by two prompt lists by my dear friend @alysinwonderland-at-tea

Angst list - Prompt 4 " Everyone told me you were going to break my heart. I should have listened to them. "

Fluff list - Prompt 2 "I think about you. Ceaselessly."

Tags: @lovelybaka

If everyone else in Troy had reasons for sorrow, on top of theirs you were the most damaged. The man you loved had returned home bringing someone else on his charriot. A stolen queen, woman you didn't have the slightest chance of comparing yourself to given the charm of her famously inhuman beauty. Even when Paris never made any expressed promises priorly, love confessions had once been mutually retributed and you believed in that.

You trusted him going against the advice of many people who attempted to warn you. His own brother had told you that no matter how much he spoke of it, Paris knew nothing about love. Blinded by your feelings, you didn't care, and it turned out the worst mistake of your life.

" Everyone told me you were going to break my heart. I should have listened to them. "

It took you all the strenght you had left not to cry, but at that moment of confrontation it was him the one sobbing in front of you.

" I never meant to! Dear, what I felt for you was real … But it wasn't true love, and I had no way to tell the difference untill I meet Helen. "

You couldn't believe the excuse that was being given to you.

" It was for me, Paris … and because of you I think I will never love again. I gave you everything, but turns out all I am wasn't enough. "

The assumption seemed to have offended him.

" You know I don't mean that! Please, try to understand! "

" What's left to understand? You betrayed your homeland and you betrayed me. You too deserve each other, indeed: a cheater for a cheater … Lovely couple to doom us all! And me the first."

He gave you a hurted look, as if after what he did he still cared for your forgiveness.

" My heart breaks for you, and i am ashamed of myself for the pain i'm causing you … But what can shame do to stop the intensity of love? I would have never accompanied Hector to Sparta if I would have known there I would fall like this for someone else. I couldn't return pretending nothing have happened, and making you live a lie would have been even more unfair than this. You deserve better, I still hold good feelings for you. I swear it on these arms that had comforted you countless times before. "

Paris attempted to pull you closer for a hug, but you stopped him ríght away.

" You humilliated me in front of the entire city! And how strongly I wish I could get granted the mercy of never seeing you again, but Troy is not big enough for that. Blessed is the king of Sparta, who gets the ríght of spreading hate without having to see his wife in the arms of other man every day! Me, instead? I get doomed to watch you smile happyly from afar in the balcony of the palace alongside your mistress for the rest of my life. Do you call that justice, Paris? If that is your mercy, I would rather get your hate. "

In the most twisted way possible, the gods granted at least one of your wishes.

Promising yourself to never love another man ever again after your first love had ended so bitterly, you took the first step into the only path allowed for a woman in your position. With the help of Briseis, who remained your friend despite what happened with her cousin, you seeked to get choosen to take vows in her temple. It was a quick way to restitute your honor in the public eye and be left alone as well. Unfortunately, you didn't get to even try on the priestess robes before the concecuencies of Paris' actions reached you once more.

Greek warriors brought to avenge the husband of his new lover destroyed the temple, killing the priests and taking you prisioner. You would never get to see the great city of Priam again and, despite the sorrow you felt when thinking of your family, that also caused you a dark sense of relief. Because of Paris you have lost everything, even the most bassic of goods such as your freedom. Only after loosing so much, of hitting rock bottom, you had a real chance to be free of him.

Enslaved to Achilles, but liberated from everything you were before, the worst part was having to stand the provocations. The myrmidon enjoyed himself attempting to seduce you, but wasn't forcing you into his bed, and that worked good enough for you in that context.

At one given time you did found his teasing going too far, and only then you became fully honest with him.

" Why did you choose to love a god? I think you will find the romance one sided. "

It made your blood boil, even if you could tell he spoke to you like that because he had no idea of who you were despite knowing your name. Achilles believed to be teasing a priestess and in the discoverment of his mistake you ended up laying eyes on him for longer than you should.

He was wearing the same type of long egyptian styled robes Paris would typically wear in the domestic environment, keeping arms and shoulders covered while fully exposing the torso. It was matched with the same sort of long skirt made of light fabrics opened at the side for more cassual expousure. You could vividly remember he wore a black outfit almost identical to that one during the first night you made love.

And yet, that man looked nothing like him. His sun kissed skin and the sculpted muscles were as contrasting as his blond hair and blue eyes.

" I have choosen nothing, fate forced me to seek shelter in the cult of Apollo after being abandoned by the love of my life. I told myself that, if i could never love again, I could at least give my devotion to the regent god of my city. Because of you I never got to become a priestess, so now i'm a double spoil: rejected for marriage and dragged out of the temple. "

Although standing ríght in front of you, disbelief faded some of the cockiness.

" You won't be rejected here, that's a promise. I had a minor altercate with Ajax because we found you so pretty we both wanted to keep you."

He sat on the ground ríght next to you and observed you with tenderness before taunting you once more.

" Did I ruin your life, or arrived just in time to restaure your faith in men? I don't understand how a girl like you could think of running to hide inside a temple instead of getting herself a better man. "

You answered with the truth, but carefully crafting enough disdain.

" There was nothing I could have done to keep him with me when the competition was the most beautifull woman in the world. The majority of men would have done the same, and that's why I have choosen not to believe in any other ever again. "

Achilles wasn't expecting to find out he was struggling for the attention of the woman that the trojan prince had left behind in his pursuement of the spartan queen.

" Will all mankind pay for the crimes of Paris? That bastard is not even a man. You are so much better without him, consider that perhaps the queen has made you a favor. If he is your reason to give up on men, I have to say it's quite offensive for the rest of us. "

You could tell where his speech was coming and you tried to stop him.

" You would have given me to Ajax if Briseis wouldn't have ran away. I didn't left with her only because I have nothing left to live for. Living in Troy is unbereable for me, but at least here I don't have to worry about seeing them and that's the only perk i expect. Don't try to pretend you could be any different, specially when I'm here because you couldn't find any other more beautifull slave girl to claim yours. "

His hand was then on your face, lifting up your chin so your eyes won't leave his as his thumb caressed your lips.

" I think of you, ceaselessly. If there is any daughter of trojan judged more beautifull than you, I don't need to know and I don't care, because I want you over any other. "

Your hand followed his and pulled down, rejecting his contact.

" Sweet lies won't win me over, not this time. "

It frustrated him, but wouldn't make him desist.

" Would you believe me if I bring you his head on a spear? I can make him cry a painfull death to pay for your tears. Whatever vengeance Menelaus dreams of would be called mercy compared to what I can do to that trojan bastard in your name."

The strange rush of passionate defense encouraged you to reveal yourself.

" Revenge is not on my interest, all I want is to forget. Can you make me stop thinking of the first man who made my heart beat? The moments when we were happy still haunt me like a disease of the spirit, but then I remember someone else occupies my place now and it's like my heart gets eaten raw inside my chest. Pain and regret is all I have for you, son of Peleus. Paris drained me of anything else. "

Achilles got rid of his black robe and wrapped your shoulders with it.

" One night in my arms is all i think that would take me to vanish the memory of that fool from your mind. You haven't yet been loved by a real man: whatever he gave you would taste like few once you would have tasted me."

The fabric was still warm from the contact with his skin and he was holding both sides of it on top of your chest in an attempt of wrapping you tighter.

You didn't try to escape him that time and he used the new proximity in his advantage to trap you in his strong grip, pushing your body against his.

" In this arms you will find happiness again, if you allow me to show you how good I can do just for you. "

[whillywisp]

Part 2 of Finnick being the most amazing dad/doting husband because I'm sure this is just therapy for my darlings with daddy issues and, well, issues🌱

Warnings: a little long, a little angstier today, implied mention of what happened to finnick. But still as fluffy as yesterday.

Part 1 ☁︎

If Finnick was caring and terrified during the pregnancy, multiply that by ten thousand and that's him postpartum. This man was convinced the very air his family breathed was out to get them. He refused to sleep because he was scared something would happen if he dared to get some rest but after you very gently (you yelled) explained to him that he cannot stay up for three nights straight because no Finnick the baby doesn't need to be held twenty five-eight please for the love of god get some damn sleep, he finally got some rest.

Recovering from pregnancy is a whole other nightmare but he made it bearable. Finnick's favourite thing in the entire world, as previously stated, was taking care of you. So you know he was at your beck and call round the clock. He helped you shower, helped you move around, stayed up with you during night time feedings so you wouldn't feel alone. He cooked every meal and made sure you had everything needed within an arm's reach. Sometimes you were so overcome with love for him that you would tug him close and pepper his face with kisses because where on earth would you find someone as gentle and caring and loving in this miserable world as this angel right here? Nowhere thank you.

But it was seeing him with her that had you convinced you saved a country in your last life (well, in this life and while it was group effort—) to be able to witness something so pure and gentle.

Finnick held his little girl like he she was made of the finest glass and would disappear if he so much as breathed too loud near her. His wide eyes traced every movement, every twitch of a muscle, every breath your baby took. If her little hand curling around his made his pretty eyes gloss over, you absolutely saw it and you made sure to tease him about, for which you were met with embarassed smiles but no denials. He wasn't ashamed of loving his family and least of all his baby girl.

But every spring came stained grey from winter's shadow, still lingering around the corner as if seeking spring's warmth too. And Finnick's past, to him, felt a bit like that.

What happened to Finnick was not a secret he carried in his pocket folded up with a list of names who still bragged of their contribution to his survival or hidden behind forced smiles anymore. What happened to Finnick was public and while he is as not at all at fault for it, humiliation and self-hatred didn't have a mind of its own and regardless of the circumstances and the people that were at fault for everything, he still blamed himself, he still dreaded the day his baby, his entire world, found out what happened. And he told you about it of course.

"What if...what if she hates me?"

You looked up from the book you had been reading, glancing at him where he lay on his back. Your daughter, now nine months old, fast asleep on his chest and your voice a little incredulous as you whisper back. "I'm not sure if you noticed but she worships the ground you walk on."

The smile he gives you is forlorn and pressed into the top of your daughter's head. He blinked, looking away from you and in the blink of an eye you had dropped your book, uncaring where it landed and gently craddled his face in your hands, wiping away tears that stained his emrald green eyes.

"Angel—"

"I don't want her to find out," he sniffed, tightening his arms around your daughter, taking a shuddering breath before continuing. "I do-don't want her to find out. She'll hate me. She'll think I'm so weak. I was so weak."

You sighed, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead before wiping away tears that escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Rage and grief burned in your heart with vengeance and you wished, not for the first time, the need to rip those wealthy capitolites to shreds with your bare hands, to make these vile people disappear, praying they'd take the pain they inflicted on him away with them.

But instead you used the same hands and pulled him close, letting him cry into your chest as you wrapped your arms around him and your daughter, whispering quietly but firmly to him. "Finnick Odair, those years of you life were bleak. Those years of your life were harsh. And you were a lot of things during them: broken, hurt, abused. But you weren't weak. You survived, you made sure to survive because you knew you needed to survive to be free. That was your way of winning. And if we raise this baby right, she'll love you regardless, hell even more, when she finds out. I love you and I agree with you on just about everything. But this, this I refuse to because the man i married, the boy I fell for, is a survivor."

He peered at you through wet lashes, sniffling softly as he pressed a kiss to your chest and then the top of your daughter's head: his quiet way of saying 'I love you. Thank you for being my light.' You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding, tightening your arms around your family.

You weren't lying when you said your daughter worshipped the ground he walked on. He was her hero. She followed him around the house since the minute she started crawling, screamed for him every morning and only calmed down when he picked her up and out of crib and in the most Finnick fashion, loved you in her gentle ways. She got that from me, he would say smugly as you had to eat another fistful of mushed baby food because of course your daughter picked that her way to show her love for you after having seen Finnick feed you fruit earlier. You would glare at him over her little sprout hair, identical to the one his hair was tied into on her highness' orders, your heart threatening to explode in your chest from the sheer amount of love it was filled with.

Your daughter was not only growing up to be the most precious child in the world, but she was also terrifyingly bright and understanding, even at such an young age. On days she noticed Finnick's need to be quiet or when he was too overwhelmed by everything, you noticed her making a conscious effort to stay quiet and keep her noises to a minimum. If Finnick needed time alone, she wouldn't bother him but spent her time with you, telling you about how daddy needs his quiet time and you had to hold onto the cushion behind you on the couch to hold back from crying, completely baffled at and extremely grateful that you both were raising an angel like her. But you weren't all that surprised when you thought about it a little more deeply. She was, after all, her daddy's little girl.

The day she starts kindergarten feels like the most emotional episode of the worst soap opera possible because you woke up to them...crying. And saying their goodbyes as he tearfully packed her lunch and did her hair, as if she was off to war. And it took quite a while to coax them both out of the house because I love you both but we cannot be late on the first day you guys please. But on the walk to kindergarten it was peaceful and full of laughter, because they could both pretend this was just their morning walk.

But of course, the tears were back when the gates closed with the promise of keeping them separated for three hours.

"What if she gets hungry and can't open the lunch box?"

You frowned looking up at him, shaking your head. You both were standing outside the gates to the school along with other worried parents, some taking a break from said worrying to side eye you both, something you had learned to tune out years ago.

"Finnick, she showed us she can open the lunch box just fine before we left home."

"But what if she can't here?" He insisted, looking down at you like you were the insane one for not considering that scenario. You sighed, grabbing his hand and tugging him away from the gates, trying to ease his worries.

"I promise you if she needs help with that, she will ask her teacher," you smiled at him, pecking his lips gently to stop him when he opens his mouth to voice another bizarre worry. "She'll be fine. She's our kid, she'll be perfectly fine."

He cracked a small smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you both start walking back, giving in with a small chuckle. "Yeah, okay. Maybe we should get a puppy to keep us busy now since she wants to do all grown up things go to scho..."

You look up at him as he suddenly trails off, confused as you catch him staring at something thoughtfully in the distance and follow his gaze to freeze against him slightly. In the distance, still as grey and imposing as ever, was the abandoned building which once held District 4's career academy. Strange feelings that always came with seeing it, both good and bad and nostalgic, make you tighten your grip on his hand and his around your shoulders.

Less than a decade ago, only a few metres and a small canal away from the kindergarten that your daughter now attended, children like her were being trained to kill, you and Finnick being a part of them. The thought of that still makes your blood run cold but the relief that rushed in right after, knowing your baby would never have to do that, is enough to let go of another hour of the countless you had spent in there, training to survive a system bigger than the arena could ever be.

You took a deep breath, forcing to maintain your light tone as you forced both of you to continue moving. "Heard they're building another school there, to keep the spirits of learning still alive and all that."

He smiled, kissing the top of your head fondly. "And I assume you want to help out in that?" The cheeky smile you had given him was answer enough but for him, it was like a sigh of relief, of brighter days no longer stained with gloom of his past.

People and places had changed to accomodate this new change, this everlasting spring, and maybe he was looking forward to letting his soul do the same too.

A/N: i agree this might've gone slightly offtopic in certain places but bare with me. I can't decide if want this to be the end or write more. But I hope you enjoyed this regardless of these things. All my love 🌱

[tyrantisterror]

What are your top favorite fairy tales? Either classic literarily stories, adaptations of literary fairy tales, wholly modern fairy tales, or even just stories that you think are structured like fairy tales. (Roald Dahl books, Studio Ghibli movies, even Shrek and Puss in Boots movies, etc.)

That is an unfathomably vast genre of fiction to try and condense into a ranked numbered list. I think... I think that may be impossible to actually answer as requested. But I can ramble about some of my favorites I suppose.

Let's do this sorta like the Oscars and divide things into categories.

Category 1: The Heavy Hitters

Some fairy tales are significantly more famous than others, so this category is for them: the heavy hitters, the classic fairy tales that are most well known, as defined by my own nebulous perception of which fairy tales are more popular than others.

Of the heavy hitters, my favorites are Little Red Riding Hood and Jack and the Beanstalk. Little Red Riding Hood is such a spooky story no matter which telling you're looking at, and has contributed a lot to both the fantasy and horror genres thanks to its simple yet evocative premise and visuals. Jack and the Beanstalk, meanwhile, is just a really solid story of a trickster fool, which is one of my favorite archetypes in all of fiction. Love a good trickster fool.

Category 2: The Obscurities

As I said, this ask is covering a HUGE amount of fiction in its topic, especially since the border between a fairy tale and, like, ANY folklore isn't really well-defined (not in a way anyone can agree too, anyway). But there are a lot of obscure folktales I love that are at least sometimes lumped in as fairy tales, and I'm gonna list them here:

The Lambton Worm - a classic tale of dragon-slaying and getting fucked over by prophecies

The Lindworm Prince - queen can't concieve and consults a witch, ignores witch's directions, gives birth to human baby and dragon baby. Dragon baby grows up and demands a wife before human baby can get his, and a clever girl decides this is her chance to get rewarded for monster fucking.

Maud and the Dragon of Mordiford - the story of a girl who adopts a dragon only for it to end tragically, which inspired one of the novels I'm gonna write one of these days

Tam Lin - the story of a woman who wanted that elf dick and wasn't afraid to do some weird shit to get it

Biancabella and Samaritana - a story about a girl and her sister who is a snake because her mother had trouble concieving

King Odd - a story about an odd king who's actually an exiled fairy queen in disguise, and the man who wins her heart after surviving her attempt to execute him. It's like a Nordic medieval Tenchi Muyo.

You've probably noticed some themes about my favorites right now - lots of stories with dragons, people being transformed into monsters, and heroes who are into that monster shit.

Category 3: Archetypal Pieces

Ok, so for this I'm going to focus less on individual folktales and more on recurring plotlines, character types, and story beats, which you begin to notice the more you read up on Fairy Tales in part because many of the more obscure ones take beats from ones you're probably more familiar with and mix them together in new ways. So, my favorite plot beats in fairy tales:

Any sort of monster, obviously

The villain who literally removed their heart out of fear of being vulnerable

The baleful polymorph (i.e. a human who inhabits a beast/monster body against their will)

Monsterfucker protagonists

Trickster Fool protagonists

Disobedient Girls (examples: Little Red, Goldilocks), though I don't like how this archetype is treated

You want to have a baby and seek a witch and she gives you VERY SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS which you ignore because you really want this baby and oops you've got twins and one of them is some sort of monster good job asshole

The hero helps three (or more) people/creatures in need, and when shit hits the fan, they return the favor

Category 4: Modern(ish) Adaptations

Our penultimate category focuses on adaptations of fairy tales from, like, the 1900's on - anything made in a century I've lived in part of, basically. These arguably shouldn't be divided from "normal" fairy tales, but my brain regards them differently than, like, Victorian era fairy tale retellings, because hey, I lived in the age of these, more or less. They're "modern" for whatever nebulous definition of that word my brain's decided on.

And there's a lot for me to put in this category. Sleeping Beauty might be my favorite of Disney's fairy tale retellings, though Beauty and the Beast is a strong competitor for that role (and maybe Mulan, if we count its source material as a fairy tale, but I'm not sure we can). I think overall I like Sleeping Beauty's more stylized animation and character designs as well as its less conventional story-telling structure a bit more than B&B's, but Beauty and the Beast is still gorgeous and kind of perfectly scripted, so it's a tough competition.

My alltime favorite adaptation of fairy tales, though, would be Jim Henson's The Storyteller:

Using the magic of 1980's muppeteering, it adapts several fairy tales, many of which are more on the obscure side, and sometimes mashes a few different ones together to make sure each episode has a good three act structure. It's wonderful and fully captures the weirdness of fairy tales, while also having a lot of heart - The Heartless Giant is my favorite of the whole series.

Category 5: Works Inspired By Fairy Tales

I almost lumped the following stories into the above category, but while the division is, again, purely in my mind, there's something different about modern works that claim to adapt fairy tales 1:1 and ones that take fairy tale characters or concepts and throw them in entirely new tales with different directions, so that's what our final category will be.

I've gushed about Puss In Boots: The Last Wish enough that I don't think it'd surprise anyone that it would end up here - the same goes with the works of Rankin Bass, which is why I doubt anyone is surprised I'd put The Last Unicorn here too (technically based on a book, but it still fits the "has big fairy tale vibes despite not being based on one specific one" that I'm using to justify this category).

Pan's Labyrinth would also go in this category, with a protagonist who's both a trickster fool AND a disobedient girl, as well as a beautifully gothic take on fairy tale motifs. I'd put Company of Wolves here as well, being a very multifaceted riff on the Little Red Riding Hood story and a movie that sets both my analytical and creative parts of my brain on fire each time I want it.

I'd also put The Path, a short video game explicitly inspired by Company of Wolves, on this part of the favorites list. It's a game about, like, a DOZEN or so different takes on Red Riding Hood and her story, all with different flavors and subtext to analyze. It's unsettling but good.

Dimension 20 had a whole season focused on a horror-themed crossover of fairy tale characters called Neverafter that was fantastic, with one of the best riffs on Little Red Riding Hood I've ever seen, Puss in Boots and Pinocchio working together as con artists, and a vampire Snow White, so yeah 10/10 there, no notes.

And while I've only seen scattered bits of it, what I've seen of Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, a sequel series to Disney's Rapunzel adaptation, is pretty great, though maybe I just think Cass is hot.

If you put an angry woman with a sword in your work of fiction I will at least stay for a few episodes to see what you do with her.

Given how much it consumed my brain in so little time, Revolutionary Girl Utena has to rank among my favorite Fairy Tale things ever - like, this is too chaotic a list to really rank things, but if I were to try, it'd at least be in the top 10. The same is true for Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods, which in addition to being a big fun crossover between a bunch of the Heavy Hitter fairy tales, is also one of the best musicals ever written - and indeed, one of the best stage shows of all time.

Shit, where do I put A Midsummer Night's Dream? It feels like it should be here, but it predates the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson, whose works my brain categorizes as "old fairy tales" rather than "modern fairy tale retellings." Well, it'd be somewhere among these categories, being one of the best tales with fairies in it ever told.

The Princess Bride would be up high like Utena no matter what - it's one of the best works of fiction about love that we've got. Same goes with Galavant, which I consider its spiritual successor, although I think one could argue Galavant isn't specifically a fairy tale pastiche and is more just a lampooning of fantasy in general.

Oh, and The Hazards of Love, a concept album by The Decemberists, should be here too. That's the last one I can think of right now, but I'm sure I'll think of a few others later that I like enough to regret not putting on here.

[sleekervae]

The Bride [0.2]

Masterlist

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: Billy and Eleanor reunite in Silver City.

Warnings: foul language, mentioned racism

Word Count: 4,458

Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer

Life didn't get much easier for Billy. His stepfather's reckless spending on brothels and alcohol left them with dwindling funds, worsened by the bank's refusal to extend more credit. Forced to seek new opportunities, the Antrim family packed up and headed to Silver City.

Billy learned of a town called Silver City, and after the sudden and tragic death of his friend Carlos, he didn't find much more reason to stay in Santa Fe. It was about an arduous journey, a week-long trek through scorching heat, relentless mosquitoes, and the ever-present danger of snakes. Yet, despite the challenges, they finally reached Silver City, hopeful for a fresh start and a brighter future.

Though as it turned out, opportunities in Silver City weren't so good either.

While Kathleen embarked on a new restaurant venture, Henry flitted between jobs, proving too finicky and fragile for any substantial work. So Billy helped out where he could, working odd jobs here and there, and playing rounds of cards to make some more money. Sometimes he won big, other times he lost hard.

But at least he wasn't alone. Along the way, Billy crossed paths with Jesse, an older, more weathered individual with a cynical outlook on life. Jesse and his circle shared this perspective, yet Jesse saw a reflection of himself in Billy. Taking him under his wing, Jesse offered his help wherever he could.

Silver City was still a sprouting town, with newer businesses opening all the time. One of those businesses was a saloon, indistinguishable from the other dusty timber buildings around. But on the entire way over, Jesse was trying to talk the nerves out of Billy. He had reluctantly agreed to join up with Jesse's cattle rustling ring, he desperately needed the money after all. Joe had caught consumption, it was just another expense piling on top of all the other expenses his family had accumulated.

"Don't look so spooked, Billy," Jesse slapped him on the back, "You look like I'm taking you to you're fuckin' execution,"

"I'm not spooked," Billy assured him, but on the inside he truly was. He'd never been involved in any type of criminal behaviour, and while he knew it was wrong, he was also extremely desperate.

"You gotta get a better poker face," Jesse chuckled, "Don't worry. I'm gonna introduce you to a friend of mine,"

"What friend?"

Jesse's smirk only got wider, "You'll see,"

They strolled into the saloon, already filled with dusty, gnarly cowpoke, the distinctive smell of bitter whiskey and smoke immediately filled Billy's nose. There were a couple girls standing over card tables, watching with lacklustre while the men played silently. The energy at the bar was matched, men drunk and rambling amongst each other while bartenders poured and sweated over his glasses.

Jesse and Billy took up a spot at the bar, and Jesse gave a sharp, short whistle to get one of the bartender's attention. He motioned for two glasses of whatever they had.

"So, where's this friend of yours?" Billy asked, dark eyes darting across the crowded room.

Jesse took a brief look around as well, his smile growing when he spotted his friend, "Over here," he pointed out a young woman clearing empty glasses from a poker table. Her back was turned to them, her hair tied up tight in a ponytail, small and petite but she moved quickly.

Jesse led Billy over, "Billy, I'd like for you to meet my girl, Ellie," he grinned.

The woman turned around, her eyes rolling as she turned; and as she did, Billy swore his heart may stop.

"Jesse, how many times do I have to tell ya to stop telling everyone I'm your girl --?" Eleanor's words stopped short when she laid eyes on Billy, any inch of vexation in her suddenly vanished, leaving way for only disbelief.

Billy was equally stunned. Of all the places he'd hoped to find Eleanor again, this saloon certainly wasn't one of them. He had so many questions, how did she get here? How did she know Jesse? And what did she possibly have to do with cattle rustling?

Jesse was hardly the wiser to either of their shock as he continued talking, "Oh, come on Ellie, ya know I say it with the most respect and admiration or ya,"

Eleanor quickly resolved herself of her stupor and picked up her tray of empty glasses, "That's you all over, innit' Jesse? A perfect gentleman to every woman in town," she huffed, "Erm -- who's your friend?"

Play dumb, got it.

Billy nearly jolted as Jesse slapped him on the back, "This here is Billy. I'm taking him under my wing, so to speak," he grinned.

Eleanor scoffed, looking to Billy again, "And may God have mercy on your soul. Aren't you a bit young to be a cattle rustler?" she asked him.

Billy finally found his voice again, clearing it briefly as he spoke, "Aren't you a bit young to be working a saloon?"

"Touché. I'm Eleanor... or you can call me Ellie," she nodded to him.

"Billy," they all suddenly turned when a bartender shouted out.

"Ellie! I need them glasses lickety split!" he called, "I don't pay you to chat to the customers!"

"I'm coming, David! Keep your britches on!" she started for the bar, turning to the boys briefly as she muttered, "Meet me behind the building in ten minutes. Oh, and Jesse -- you're paying for those drinks this time,"

Jesse simpered, "Yes ma'am," and they watched her go back behind the bar.

Billy took a nervous sip of his whiskey, the singeing after taste barely left a burn on his mounting curiosity.

Sure enough, ten minutes later the three were cloistered in the shadowy alley, away from any prying eyes or ears. They had to be quick before Eleanor's boss would notice she was missing.

"Here," she threw a map at Jesse, "The cattle are gon' be on the North-East side of the property, just out by the forest. You'll have plenty a' cover there. But you gotta' move fast: there's two minutes in between shift change with the guards,"

"You don't gotta worry," Jesse assured her, "We'll be in and out before they know what hit 'em,"

"Good. Now, how about my money?" Eleanor's gaze darted between Jesse and Billy, her expression unreadable.

Jesse leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips, "Don't worry, darlin', you'll get your cut. Just as soon as our business is complete," he replied, a hint of menace underlying his words.

Eleanor's jaw clenched, but she maintained her composure, "I expect nothing less," she retorted, her tone firm, "Now get outta' here, before someone sees me talking to you,"

Jesse laughed, "You're too uptight, Ellie. We should go riding together sometime," he tilted his hat down, his eyes darkening, "Might relax ya,"

A familiar feeling swirled in Billy's chest: disdain, distrust, perhaps even a hint of possessiveness. He didn't like how close Jesse was getting, and given the unamused glare on Eleanor's face he understood that she didn't take too kindly to his advances either.

"You know the deal, Jesse," she drawled back, "I'd hate to have to tell the boss that you or any of the guys were giving his spy a hard time,"

And with that, Jesse put his hands up and stepped back, "You made your point. I'll have your money by the end of the week,"

"Alright," she looked to Billy again, "Don't get yourself killed," and she extended her hand to him.

"I'll try my best," Billy forced a brief smile, shaking her hand while taking the piece of paper she had clenched in her palm. He shoved the paper into his pocket before Jesse could catch on.

Eleanor left without another word, her icy exterior faltering the moment she had her back turned. Her heart raced, her knees tingled with every step she took. She had only dreamed about the day she might find Billy again, she just didn't realize how he'd be so wrapped up in her business.

Billy walked with Jesse, the note still clenched tightly within his pant pocket. He was ever so curious to read it, but he saw the way Jesse looked at Eleanor; he didn't want to get in between anything that didn't involve him.

"She's cold as ice, but she's smart as a whip," Jesse sighed, "We've made good money off her,"

"She's... pretty intense," Billy muttered, "Doesn't seem to like you very much,"

Jesse laughed under his breath, "She likes to put on a hard edge. Fact is that girl owes me her life," he then looked to Billy, his attitude turned cocky and cold, "... and she knows that," he started walking towards his boarding house, "I'll come get ya in the morning, get some sleep,"

"Alright," and he watched him walk away. Billy waited until Jesse had disappeared around the next building before he pulled out Eleanor's note. There was no message, just a building name and a time scrawled in pretty writing.

The Imperial Hotel stood grand and imposing, a beacon in Silver City, its doors welcoming a steady stream of transient souls. Eleanor stood beneath the awning, wrapped in a shawl against the evening chill, her brimmed hat shielding her eyes. She lifted her gaze at the sound of approaching footsteps on the gravel.

Billy's figure emerged from the shadows, his steps measured and wary, illuminated by the soft glow of scattered lanterns and moonlight. Eleanor stepped out from the building, she felt as though she was in the presence of an approaching ghost. She hadn't seen him in a year, yet he looked different. Weathered and worn.

"My god," she gaped, "You look like shit,"

Billy scoffed back, "Why, thank you. I feel like shit," he smiled nevertheless. Eleanor smiled back, it was the first time today she felt relatively... happy.

The hotel clerk was down for the night so Eleanor invited him inside. Billy noted how she didn't have much with her, the bed spread hardly appeared to be touched. He took a seat in a miscellaneous chair while Eleanor poured two glasses of bourbon.

"David couldn't pay my wage one day, so he paid me in whiskey," she sighed, handing him one of the glasses, "Straight from his 'private collection'. Cheap old bastard,"

Billy took a sip from his glass, the taste was bitter and burned while he nostrils became singed from the strong scent. Nevertheless he watched Eleanor take a seat on the bed, kicking off her boots and folding her legs like a young child.

"So, what brings you to Silver City?" she asked.

Billy shook his head, "You want the short version or the long version?" he asked.

"Whichever is less likely to cause you a headache," she said.

So Billy summed up... well... everything. Carlos was murdered, Antrim was a fraud, money was drying up so they had to move on. His mother was slaving away at a new restaurant, his step-dad was a penniless deadbeat, and his little brother had fallen very ill. Hence why he was entertaining Jesse and this cattle rustling business so he could get medicine for Joe.

Eleanor watched him talk, she noted how deflated he became the more he talked, he was missing that spark of mischief and optimism when they'd first met. He was so beaten down, scraping at the sides of the barrel trying to make his way back up. She felt for him, couldn't imagine the kind of shit he'd had to put up with.

"Jesus Christ," she shook her head, "I'm so sorry,"

He shrugged back, "It ain't got nothing to do with you. Ma says God has a plan for all of us, whether or not it's long or short... it's not up to us,"

"But it doesn't change the fact that he's your little brother, he deserves a chance to grow up, just like you," she replied.

Oh, he knew. He knew damn well how unfair it all was. Joe never did anything to hurt anyone, so why was he suffering so?

"Yeah, I know," he muttered, wanting to change the subject, "What about you?" Billy then asked, leaning forward in his chair, "How did you get here?"

She sipped her drink, pondering how much to tell, how much to leave out. Overall, she had traveled from town to town, living on whatever provisions she could scrape up while trying to survive as a single woman in the blistering terrain. She'd been approached, propositioned, threatened, nearly robbed how many times, and every time she dodged out of the fire until she got to Silver City.

"Jesse found me sitting outside the hotel down the street; they wouldn't let me board unless I had a man to escort me," she explained, "He offered me a job, a place to stay, I was desperate so I said yes,"

"What came first? The saloon or the ranch?" he asked.

"The ranch. Billy Matthews needed a care woman to do the cleaning, cook for this cowboys, and Jesse and his gang needed an insider who knew where the cattle were gonna' be," she replied.

"S'pose you're lady-like enough you can actually get away with it," Billy noted, a small, teasing grin tugging at his lips.

Eleanor rolled her eyes, "I suppose so," she simpered, "The saloon came later, a fall back just in case something... happened. It's a good cover for passing information,"

"And it affords this place?" he asked, wagging his finger around the room.

"I'm in town three nights a week. The rest of 'em I live out on the county line," she replied.

"County line?"

"Lincoln county," Eleanor glanced out the window, the town near-pitch black under the rain of subtle stars, "Jesse and 'em have a house out there. No one knows, no one checks on 'em. Kind of like a secret lair of sorts," she chuckled at the end.

"And they keep you safe?" Billy asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, "They're all outlaws and criminals, but they've shown me more decency than any man ever has. Barring yourself, of course,"

Billy tried to smile, but he couldn't help but sense the deflection in Eleanor. She was grateful to be alive, for the money she had and for how Jesse took care of her, but she didn't seem happy. Happy with life, herself. Billy only saw her truly happy once, no worries and at ease in his old home, tossing cards at each other and staring at the stars.

He came to sit beside her on the bed, staring out at the sky just like she was. The night glistened in silver dots, there was not a soul to be had on the streets below, and beyond the town the horizon of the desert called, beckoning to be explored for new adventures.

"What do you want, Eleanor?" he asked, his tone soft and cautious, "In life?"

She sighed softly, turning her gaze to meet his, "I want to step outside and not have to feel the urge to look over my shoulder all the damn time," she replied.

"Is the captain still looking for you?" Billy asked.

"I guess so. I haven't heard anything. But I also don't want to give anyone the power to hold... things over me," her gaze was dark, her deflection growing. Though Billy had a feeling she was talking about him, maybe that was why she didn't want Jesse to know about them?

"What about you, Billy? What do you want in life?"

Billy didn't have to think very hard about that one, "A good night's sleep," he said, "Because if I can sleep, I know I'm not worried about anything,"

Billy and Eleanor sat in silence, their breaths mingling in the stuffy room air. Billy’s mind raced with the reckless notion of grabbing Eleanor's hand and running away, leaving behind the suffocating constraints of their lives without a care. Meanwhile, Eleanor couldn't tear her eyes away from him, marveling at the way the moonlight highlighted his sharp features, his eyes sparkling with a warmth that made her heart flutter. She yearned to bridge the gap between them, to taste the promise of his lips, but the moment felt fragile, precarious. So, instead of voicing her desire, she pointed to the sky, her voice barely a whisper as she asked:

"Can we see Orion's Belt from here?" Her question hung in the air, a delicate thread connecting them, while the words they truly wanted to say remained locked inside.

Billy snapped out his train of thought, immediately sitting up and glancing out the window, "Yeah," he pointed off in the distance, "Those three stars, the little bright cluster. You see it?"

Eleanor nodded, though peripherally she kept her gaze on Billy, "Yeah, yeah I see it,"

Sure enough, Jesse came to get Billy the next morning. Billy was a ball of nerves all day, right up until he rode with Jesse to the edge of the forest and met up with another group of men. This was Jesse's gang, ten or thirteen brutish men, hankies drawn over their noses, whips and guns holstered to their belts. And while they were at first skeptical of Billy's appearance and know how, they let him join in.

Billy kept his focus as sharp as possible, but he couldn't shake the notion that this was the gang, the group of thugs that were taking care of Eleanor. As they yipped and herded the cattle along, Billy could just spot Matthews' ranch house off down the hill. He could picture Eleanor in his mind, peaking through the window, watching him and the others make off with the herd in the blink of an eye. And they were fast enough that they got away with it without so much as a twig snap of trouble.

And while the money Billy was paid was good, it wasn't enough to make a difference. Joe was too far gone, and in only another week he passed away. Kathleen was devastated, and despite her justification for God's plan, watching her youngest son be buried only made her more heartsick. Billy wanted to stay as strong as he could for her, that being said he was angry. Angry that Joe was taken so soon, angry at himself for not getting the medicine in time. Angry at Antrim for showing up at the last moment to beg and make his case for how he was a changed man. The only relief he had was finally being able to kick Henry Antrim out of their lives once and for all.

Despite his grief, Billy still had work to do, bills to pay. He continued running rustling jobs with Jesse for money, all the while practicing his shooting out in the fields. Jesse was much more of a practiced gunslinger, but even he had to admit Billy was a great shot. As far as he knew, Jesse didn't know about a thing between Billy and Eleanor. And while he doubted he would ever hurt Eleanor, he knew how rough Jesse could be, he didn't want to put either of them in a position to be hurt.

On his off days, Billy would go down to the saloon to see her, just talk to her. It was relaxing, she was relaxing to be around. They talked as if no time had passed; Eleanor would spill some of the gossip about the saloon's patrons while Billy would tell her the stories that he'd picked up on his travels. It got to the point Billy's visits would be the absolute highlight of her day, a shred of flickering happiness within her weary spirit.

Things turned rough yet again when Billy learned of his mother's sickness. Consumption, just like Joe. And while Kathleen was a devout catholic woman, even she professed how she wasn't ready to go yet. Billy shut down more and more, devoting his time to care for his mother, to make sure he was comfortable and at ease. He stopped coming to the rustles, stopped seeing Eleanor. All that mattered to him was his mother, she was the only family he had left. But just like his dad, just like Joe, his mother slipped away too.

Billy was the only one left now.

He wasn't the same, and despite Jesse's coaxing, despite Eleanor's promising that he would be alright, Billy didn't feel alright. He felt desperate, alone, and without many options. So, when Jesse offered him to help rob the home of Chinese family, Billy took his chances. It would be one job. One quick job to get him started, and then he'd pick up the piece from there.

Of course, no job ever went smoothly, and soon enough, Billy found himself in court, being sentenced for armed robbery. Eleanor sat in the back, her heart heavy and breaking as the verdict was read. Billy wasn't a criminal; he wasn't like Jesse. Jesse, the coward who couldn't even bother to try and save Billy, left him in that house alone at gunpoint. Eleanor's grief for Billy quickly morphed into anger —anger at Jesse's stupid plans, anger at Billy for being so easily influenced, and anger at the judge, who she knew was fully on the take.

Eleanor wasn't sure what to do from here, so she did what she was used to: keep her head down and work until she could move on. It was the way her life went; she found her people, got comfortable, and then something would happen to uproot her. Billy was going to spend the next three years in jail, and she wasn't content to slave away in Billy Matthews' ranch for that long. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted, but she was sure she wasn't going to find it in Silver City.

She said goodnight to David and started back to the hotel, the quiet night wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. The soft glow of lanterns cast long shadows on the deserted street, and the faint smell of smoke from nearby fireplaces filled the crisp air. The only sounds were the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant hoot of an owl, making her footsteps seem unusually loud. As she walked, Eleanor couldn't shake the heavy thoughts of Billy, but the serene surroundings offered a small measure of solace.

"Ellie," she stopped dead in her tracks, turning to find Jesse leaning against an awning post, hat missing, hands deep in his pockets, a solemn look on his face.

"Jesse," she muttered with disdain, "What do you want?"

He stepped out from the shadows, his lean figure illuminated by the pale moonlight. "I guess you heard about Billy."

She scoffed bitterly, "Yeah, I heard. Heard how you left him for dead on the Chinaman's floor. Nice work, hero." She turned on her heel and kept walking. Jesse followed her.

"Well, it was either one of us or both of us," he caught up to her. "I thought he was right behind me!"

"And he wasn't, was he?" she huffed back. "That's just you all over, Jesse. I wish you'd told me what you were doing so I could talk your dumb asses out of it!"

"Well, I wish you'd told me about you and Billy, and yet here we are," he hissed back.

She stopped again, whipping around to glare at his smug expression. "What are you on about?"

"I know Billy comes to see you. I see him do it. I see how different you've been since I brought him to you," he dropped his voice to a gravelly whisper.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Whatever you think is going on in your feeble little mind, drop it. Nothing is happening, not with me and Billy, and certainly not between us!"

Jesse's gaze turned cold. "I saved you. You'd be dead if it weren't for me, Ellie."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself. This is not about us!" she snapped.

"What's it about then?" Jesse asked.

"We have a working relationship, that's as far as it goes!" Eleanor exclaimed. "You did with me what you do with everyone: bring new people into the gang and train them, protect them. You didn't protect Billy. You failed him, Jesse. Now he's gonna spend the next three years chipping jib rock and fighting over bread rolls with other inmates. Congratulations."

She turned to leave again, but Jesse moved quickly. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back. "Hey!"

"Don't you walk away from me, woman!" he seethed.

"Let go of me!" Eleanor growled, her mouth agape, eyes wide with rage.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll scream so fuck'n loud I'll wake up God himself!"

Despite his anger, Jesse knew how devious and petty Eleanor could be. He begrudgingly let her go, sniffling and wiping his nose from the cold. "I don't want to fight with you, Ellie. You know I care about you."

"… I know," Eleanor conceded. "What do you want from me?"

"I'm sorry I grabbed you," he nodded. "I'm just… you're right. I failed Billy. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him," he wandered over, kicking at the dirt and rocks. "He's like a little brother to me, ya know?"

"I do know," Eleanor nodded, her voice calmer, demeanor gentler. "I could see how you guys worked together. But being a brother and friend means protecting your own. Billy's not ready for this kind of life, Jesse."

Jesse shook his head, his gaze softening. "No one's ever ready, but we don't have a choice," he replied. "I'll come see you tomorrow. Let me know where Matthews is moving the cattle." He started walking away.

Eleanor watched silently, the tension, pent-up rage, and frustration melting away into a deep, aching sadness. She knew Jesse better than he knew himself, knew how much he was blaming himself for this. She should have seen it too, should have warned Billy not to fall in with Jesse. But even she couldn’t have predicted how things would unfold.

She looked up at the night sky, her eyes finding the familiar cluster of stars that made up Orion’s Belt. It was said to symbolize the eternal resting place of Osiris, and she wondered if the rest of the stars were other souls at peace. Maybe her mother was up there, staring down at her. Maybe Kathleen was watching her eldest son falter at the hands of poor influences.

Eleanor wasn’t a religious woman, but she said a silent prayer to those stars. Was she expecting an answer? Certainly not. Was she hoping for some shred of a miracle to get her out of this mess? Just maybe.

[bonefall]

do you have a quick link to information about Brokenstar, Runningnose, and Skypelt? I'm curious about the story behind Runny's acorn necklace and I want to read about Brokenstar becoming SkyClan's guardian, and how he was able to follow Firestar/help him restore SkyClan. i've been having a hard time finding it

I need to finish (or at least *reasonably complete*) the SE where Fire and Broken go to resurrect SkyClan. That is called Firestar's Quietus. Brokenstar's origin, which completely replaces Yellowfang's Secret, is called Brokenstar's Cataclysm and that's another one I need to complete.

The exact story has undergone a lot of revision SO I'm gonna take a quick break to try and compile some Best Hits of BB!Runningnose's and BB!Brokenstar's dynamic to get you up to speed, and make a definitive list of what's currently canon to Better Bones

And, because this is DEFINITELY the change that raises the most eyebrows and it's a good opportunity to make an intro,

"Elder Bones, what's all this I hear about your Not-Totally-Evil Brokenstar?"

He's still evil lmao, but he's not BORN evil in BB. NO ONE is.

BB is a story about culture. It's about a lot of things, family, anti-authoritarianism, xenophobia... but at its core, Better Bones is about how people impact culture, and how it acts on people.

Something I realized early in this process is that Canon Brokenstar, who is a born-evil punishment for SkyClan's exile (this is CANON, go re-read Yellowfang's Secret if you don't remember!), only made worse by abuse and enabling, does not effectively tell a story about culture.

Depending on your reading, Canon!Brokenstar is either a cosmic horror story or one about abuse. Could Yellowfang have saved him (and ShadowClan) with love? The book implies no, it was his destiny, just the medcat den was hers.

But looking at Canon!Lizardfang who let him get bullied*, and Canon!Raggedpelt who enabled him every step of the way as Sagewhisker held Yellowfang back, you could also read it as someone who was treated so horribly that he did horrible things to others. That he wanted respect and this is how he got it

So, okay, you could read that it's the fault of this bad woman, bullying, and this overly permissive dad that he became a baby killer. Problem solved?

HOWEVER... the Erins also refuse to actually write about people who unironically love his philosophy, because they don't want Brokenstar to be systemic. Blackfoot, the posterboy for a Broken-supporter, gets to reckon with how sad his childhood was and how he was only ever a mislead kitty who Truly Loved His Clan, as opposed to Brokenstar, who was Born Evil And Did Not Truly Love His Clan.

Blackstar's greatest flaw wasn't xenophobia, or hatred. He wasn't groomed by a society that glorifies violence and pushes a might-makes-right mentality. He just followed The Bad Person. With the death of The Bad People, society is fine :)

This is a recurring dichotomy. Leopardstar was good all along, Tigerstar was bad all along, Needletail was good all along, Darktail was bad all along. The Erins are not telling a story about how Clan Culture produces villains, or how it makes good people do terrible things, they tell stories about treacherous Evil People who always had a seed of badness inside of them.

-Onestar's Confession, Page 704

This is their guiding philosophy, and it's what Better Bones sets out to reject.

So, Brokenstar.

I realized while drawing him this one time that I was making him look too much like Tigerstar. Charismatic and puffed up, ready to twist the code to fit his own ends. Then it hit me-- why am I telling the same story twice?

BB!Tigerstar is the inheritor of Thistle Law, apprentice of Thistleclaw, with a backstory where he was a lonely, abused child and seeks respect to fill that hole. He's getting all sorts of reduxes to explore him, and the way that violent ideologies recruit (and prey on) angry and lonely people. Why should I just... have two Tigerstars, but one of them is explored less?

AND, I would waste the fascinating idea that Brokenstar is a manifested curse. Why remove something so cool, when instead, I could lean into that...? Then I started to realize...

Why didn't they ever connect Brokenstar to the resurrection of SkyClan, if he is this manifested curse?

So, enough preamble. Come below the cut and I'll tell you about the story in Better Bones so far...

BB!Brokenstar is not born evil. He is born angry.

He was ALWAYS going to happen. His birth, his ambition, and his fury were inevitable.

This is a curse that was laid generations ago, at the end of Ripplestar's Rot.

The last-ditch attempt to save SkyClan was literally crushed by StarClan itself, blasting the base of the blighted 5th Tree of Fivetrees and sending it toppling down to smite Ripplestar.

That tree was the symbol of SkyClan and their place in the forest. All the love, comfort, and memories that they had ever put into that oak had a power of their own-- and they took form on that night.

Brokenstar is not the only "entity" of this type. Star Flower, eons ago, was another. BB contains many new types of entities beyond, and even adjacent to StarClan. Gods, curses, guardians, other religions of equal standing...

But he needed to be born to someone. In return for Dawnstar's kindness, taking in Cloudstar's young children (Re: Ripplestar's Rot), ShadowClan would be the eye of the storm.

And it would be a Cleric who bore him, just like Larkstripe, who had been cruelly separated from her only kitten.

Yellowfang, Shroompelt at the time, this was before her Dishonor Title, saw when he was born that he was furious. She'd never seen a newborn look so angry.

In Brokenstar's Cataclysm, she only gets the opening chapter. It's enough to establish how Sagewhisker pressured her into the role, the lengths she went to in order to keep this secret, the reason for his name despite it not matching his tail.

NOTE: Brokentail's name, Kanochswash, means Broken-in-half-tail. He has two breaks in his tail, making three segments. It matches the way the oak was broken, once at the base, again against the rock, but it is actually obvious in Clanmew that his name does not refer to his tail.

Or, it's obvious to Lizardstripe at least... who is VERY different in BB. Old followers will know, she is a very loyal friend of Bluestar herself, and a member of her inter-Clan friendgroup, the Forget-Me-Nots.

She really doesn't want to be in this situation, doesn't LIKE being a mother, and Mudfoot is unhelpful... but she's the most perceptive of the Forget-Me-Nots. She hears that name, sees Shroompelt's distant eyes, and it clicks. She sometimes looks for things to complain about so Shroompelt has an excuse to stay in the den for a while.

But Lizardstripe is not raising Brokenkit. Raggedstar is. Raggedstar is Brokenkit's Mi, and Raggedstar alone. He's pointedly adamant about that, and as soon as Brokenkit doesn't need round-the-clock suckling, he started sleeping in the Leader's Den with dad.

Unfortunately, being the golden child of the leader did not pair nicely with Brokenkit's short fuse.

And he made a little friend.

What first drew Runningkit to Brokenkit was that he was very large. Runningkit LOVED pissing off one of his siblings, and then hiding behind his bestie who was younger than them but already as big as a stump.

When Lizardstripe tried to do anything about this, Raggedstar would get pissed off at her, insisting that his son needed to be with his friends.

Together, the two of them learned they could do whatever they wanted, as long as they stuck together. With Runny's brain and Broken's brawn, they weren't even a year old and already unstoppable.

And their idea of "unstoppable" was... mostly getting seconds when they'd already eaten and pushing against the horrors of bedtime. Sneaking out and collecting acorns. Being allowed to practice with the warriors.

Even better, since being the leader's kitten meant everyone tended to be extra nice to Broken to butter up to Ragged.

If they got what they wanted, they were sweet to adults. But from watching her son, and from being friends with Lizardstripe, Shroompelt knew that they could be vicious when they wanted to be.

And from a young age, Brokenkit knew that he needed to become Brokenstar... and Runningkit promised he'd get him there.

You might be noticing something.

Brokenstar was always loved, very, very much.

Spoiled? Absolutely. A little bully? You bet.

Not yet more than the sort of things angry, spoiled kids get up to.

The point I'm meticulously building here is that BB!Brokenstar WAS LOVED, and he loved in turn.

It won't stop what is about to happen.

Brokenkit was only a few months old when his father became leader, after Cedarstar was killed in the war with WindClan. Heatherstar wanted the Mothermouth Moorland; a floodplain just beyond the Carrionplace, which grows flax and many other medicinal flowers.

It was something the two clans had fought over before, that IS the code's Right of Challenge, but Heatherstar wanted all of it. She'd even killed the practice of tunneling to dedicate all of her forces to take it.

If you are not strong enough to keep something, you do not deserve to have it. This is what the Code says.

And strength is what Brokenkit quickly learned.

Taking extra bowls of food means nothing in the fall when the prey grows fat, but ShadowClan's marsh freezes fast.

You can't whine up a second bowl when not everyone even got a first.

Do you defend your territory? Or focus on survival? When the challenges are frequent, you have to go without eating to defend them.

And yes, you're hungry, but it's for a reason.

Brokenkit wasn't out of kithood when he saw his first death, because people were already dying before he was born.

In skirmishes, in hunting accidents, to infection because they didn't have enough herbs. Starvation in winter.

From a very young age, he was taught this is the way of Clans, and this is because of WindClan.

And his ambition to become deputy only became stronger. Runningpaw hatched a plan to get into the Cleric den, against Shroompelt's will.

Brokenpaw got into fights at Gatherings over ShadowClan's honor, enthusiastically bowled into battle against WindClan raids, became Raggedstar's best little rat hunter.

And he saw clanmates he loved dying.

Over many years, through his warriorhood, into his deputyship.

Cloudpelt, Foxheart, Toadskip, Nutwhisker. Lizardstripe was killed during an event called Heatherstar's Last Stand, her neck snapped by the WindClan warrior Flytail.

Heatherstar died, and her much more reasonable and peaceful deputy, Tallstar... continued to keep the Moorland she won.

ShadowClan went through that last winter, again trying to win their land back, but beaten so hard they couldn't mount a resistance. More cats collapsed in the snow, Mudfoot was one of them.

WindClan won. The land was theirs now. Out of his magnanimity, Tallstar reached out to Raggedstar and made him an unprecedented offer. He would give him a tax of rabbits, for peace. ShadowClan would stop attacking, and formally acknowledge that WindClan was the victor of the war.

A peace deal, a surrender.

Tallstar didn't have to do that. If his Clan won, it was his land in the eyes of StarClan. He had no obligation to reach out in this way, and Raggedstar acknowledged that.

But it made Brokentail SICK.

He couldn't believe that Raggedstar was going to buy this, let WindClan keep THEIR LAND and just send them back some of their own rabbits. What happens next?? What if WindClan decides to come further south, what then? What will Tallstar ask for next? What price will his warriors pay for the blood they spilled?

And this is the moment that Brokentail kills his father. On his last life, frail and weak after an entire life of fighting, he decided that the last kindness he could give him was a quick death, preventing him from taking that deal.

Runningnose sprang into action as soon as he'd been told about it; helping him to cover up the murder.

And together, they turned to TOTAL war.

Once, as an apprentice, Brokenstar recalled the words of a warrior at a Gathering. A parable of thistles-- how they don't care what attacks them. They don't hold back. How they will choke out the whole field who they can thrive.

Is that not the conclusion of Might Makes Right? If you can, you must, before they do it to you.

An apprentice becomes a warrior-- stop that from happening.

Don't let your enemies escape to fight again-- kill them when you have the chance.

Their herb stores are just as limited as yours-- dwindle them with infection and poison.

WindClan Must Pay, every single one of them. All the Clans are tomorrow's rivals, they have to go too.

Everything is for ShadowClan, and he was LOVED for it.

well.... by many.

This is about Brokenstar and Runningnose, but I must mention that there's also a lot of people who oppose him. Who realize this as evil. Nightpelt, Cinderfur, Deerfoot, Dawncloud and Stumptail are some of them.

And, importantly, Shroompelt was one of them. Whenever she learned of some code-breaking thing they'd done, she would make waves about it.

The word of a Cleric has an immense amount of weight, and it prevented Brokenstar from ending this war once and for all.

So Runningnose, as always, constructed a plan. Brokenstar decided it was a sacrifice that must be made.

Marigoldkit and Mintkit (kits of Rowanberry and Clawface) were in the Cleric's den for an infection.

Marigoldkit was a blind girl, and very fussy about taking her medicine.

Shroompelt would serve it to her in a berry capsule, either knout or rasp, a naturally red berry one.

Runningnose simply swapped her medicine with yew, and made sure that Mintkit was able to witness his sister being fed red berries over many days.

When Marigoldkit died, Mintkit was a distraught child who could only communicate that Shroompelt fed her "Red Berries," like the ones he'd been taught to stay away from.

Shroompelt IMMEDIATELY turned on Runningnose, accusing him of killing a blind kitten.

And he turned it on her. She'd fallen right into his trap. "You did this! You've been wanting us to stop fighting WindClan, and now you've stooped so low that you're trying to get rid of StarClan's only other messenger! You've killed your own nespring!"

Many cats of ShadowClan had completely lost patience with her before this, and were now shocked to see that she'd do such a thing. While some suspected the truth, in the end, Brokenstar's word is law.

And his law was that he would show mercy on an ex-Clanmate. But from here on, her name was Yellowfang, so that the world may be forewarned that StarClan rotted her teeth from so many lies as she walked in exile.

Brokenstar's Cataclysm ends on the WindClan Massacre. A bloody event where well over a dozen cats are slaughtered, and Brokenstar resurrects an ancient practice at the bellowing request of his warriors-- Kitten Stealing.

(The only time BB!Brokenstar uses a child soldier is during this battle, apprenticing Badgerpaw early so that he can participate in the all-out assault.)

With WindClan gone, he turned his sight on the other two. The Clans were cursed to die as they lived-- overpowered by a stronger, more bloodthirsty tyrant, violently driven out just as SkyClan had once been.

From there, the rest is very close to canon. Brokenstar is deposed by a coup, one that NEVER would have succeeded if it wasn't for Bluestar and her apprentice, Firepaw. The Curse is thwarted by change. Cats of different Clans working together in the name of righteousness.

Bluestar could have gone, grabbed the kits, and come back, but she knew that WindClan would never be able to return if Brokenstar was still in power.

This time around, ShadowClan's plague was intentional. Runningnose infected Nightstar on purpose.

He wanted to eliminate a weak leader... and a treacherous rogue who had defied his own.

Collateral damage was acceptable, if it eliminated as many of Nightstar's supporters as possible.

And yet, his brother Deerfoot survived. Sentimentality? Just luck? Who knows.

If Runningnose has any regrets for anything he's done, it's only this. That he cleared out ShadowClan for Tigerstar's rule.

He approved of him at first, interpreted signs to benefit him, even killed for this old ally of Brokenstar...

but Tigerstar's goal was to abolish ShadowClan, and make a TigerClan of his own. Brokenstar never wanted this, and neither did Runningnose.

What Runny really wants, more than anything, is what Brokenstar wants. Destroying WindClan is a bonus, eliminating all of their enemies is anger that they were able to obstruct him. Runningnose thinks he loves power, but what he REALLY loves is his ability to get Brokenstar what he wants.

Everything he's ever done has been in pursuit of that goal. He doesn't care that he'll be going to the Dark Forest in the end, that's where Brokenstar is going to be. Hell is wherever he isn't.

In life, neither one of them knew anything about the curse, or destiny. Brokenstar reconnects with memories in his death.

And he started having dreams of SkyClan, which he communicated to Runningnose through channeling.

I'm working on the full outline of Firestar's Quietus right now so I'm going to be a bit more brief;

Runningnose got Firestar involved on this quest because he's a little goody two shoes. Of COURSE he would agree to help... that's who Firestar is.

He brings him to the moonstone, where a scene similar to canon plays out where StarClan tries to encourage him to go back to his Clan and ignore what he now knows.

And, of course, he tells them to shove it.

Firestar's Quietus is a book about righting wrongs. Brokenstar as a curse means that what he needs, in the end, is peace.

The peace he needs is the knowledge that SkyClan will be saved, and that it will survive.

Runningnose is willing to let him go, in order to get what he needs. He passes off an acorn necklace to Firestar, so that he can channel him with ease on his journey

In this gesture, it becomes real that he will go to an afterlife without him. After all he'd ever done and been through.

So, he hesitates before handing it off, but makes Firestar promise to take good care of it.

On this journey, Brokenstar and Firestar do a lot of bickering about how SkyClan should come back. The sort of values they should have, who should lead it...

But in the end, Brokenstar realizes, they will be something new. They'll choose their own path in life, because that's what it means to be alive.

And his final action is to face The Rats, now supernatural creatures of their own, finally dispelling the threat that faced SkyClan.

Having done his job as a Guardian, he can finally rest. His necklace is buried overlooking the Gorge, returning SkyClan's guardian to them.

Eventually he falls during AVoS, in Darktail's attack, killing several of the kin and their rebels and allowing Leafstar and co a chance to escape.

For more on Skypelt, see this little guide I made on the afterlife locations. Hopefully one day I can clean this up into its own entry.

More stuff to check out (that I found while searching for other posts but are cool and I'm re-sharing);

Jaggedtooth isn't a villain anymore

"What's your favorite ShadowClan-adjacent change?"

First post I made on Tigerstar's Paws

Brokenstar's two honor-kits, Littlecloud and Rowanclaw

On curses and anger

"What does Runningnose think of the other TPB Clerics?" Hates em!

A rundown on all ShadowClan leaders post-Ripplestar

Cedarstar sketch

First post on StarClan Technicality Brokenstar lmao

IN-DEPTH QUESTIONS ABOUT SKYPELT

Some specifics on the religion/entity/magic mechanics in BB

[hellomynameisghostface]

Who Was The Best Ghostface?

Ranking all Ghostface killers from the "Scream" movies in order of who was the best at being Ghostface, in my opinion. Taking into account a few factors; who had the better motives, how much they contributed to the attacks/killings, how far they got in their plan and how well they executed it and possibly some other factors. Some might out way the others but I'll try to explain my thoughts as best I can. So let's get started. 13. Jason Carvey: while his motive was fine, it wasn't one of the better ones. It was just a continuation of Amber and Richie's pretty much. However, since he was one of the opening kills it makes sense why they wouldn't waste a good motive on him and Greg. The fact he was found out and killed so quickly proves he's the worst Ghostface so far though.

12. Richie Kirsch: this really depends on how you watch and analyze "Scream V" but from my point of view, Richie didn't kill anyone. The only confirmed attacks to be him were Sam and Mindy which both failed. The directors have already said in interviews that he barley did any of the work and Sam even mentions in "Scream VI" that "he made his girlfriend do all the killing." Like many fans of the franchise, you may be thinking "how could she possibly know that?" It's not that hard to figure out when for most of the movie/attacks Richie was with Sam or close by and with Gale's investigation instincts she could've easily found out where Amber and Richie were most of the time. Example: going to the hotel Richie was at and asking when he arrived there and if he left would help figure out if he actually participated in the killing of Judy and Wes. He basically let someone much younger than him do all the dirty work and pull the strings while thinking he was in charge the whole time. It would've been different if he betrayed her in the end like a couple of other who made it higher on this list but he never even got the chance. His motive was good though but not good enough to save him from being this low on my list.

11. Stu Macher: okay, I know this is going to piss people off because he's one of the originals and a fan favorite so everyone hold him up on a pedestal along with Billy but again, like Richie, I guess it really depends on how you view the movie. Stu does the least amount of work and on top of all that he makes the mistake of trusting his partner and by doing so is almost killed and betrayed by him. Roman even mentions in "Scream 3" that he suggested Billy get a partner to frame in case he's caught. I have no doubt in my mind if they were successful that Stu would've ended up dead or in jail anyway.

10. Quinn Bailey: she was a pretty decent Ghostface but honestly, I don't know how far she would've gotten if her father wasn't a detective or helping her. Faking her death was smart because not only does it take her off the suspect list but it allows her to do kills while her father and brother get alibis but again, without her father being a detective it would've made it much harder executing her fake death so because of that she still pretty low on my list but higher then they others because she actually did a decent amount of the dirty work and wasn't betrayed by her partners. Although it's widely disliked in this fandom, I actually liked their motive and the fact that it was a family seeking revenge, not just a parent or sibling.

9. Ethan Landry: I decided to put Ethan a place higher than his sister because he seemed more aggressive and willing to me. He killed Quinn's hookup and then proceeded to take on three people (Sam, Mindy and Anika) at once and wounding two of them and then killing one of them. While not factual, I think he would have made it further without his father's help than Quinn did because while Wayne was the brains behind it I feel like he didn't help Ethan quite as much as Quinn.

8. Wayne Bailey: since he was the mastermind and brains behind these attacks I think it's fair to place him above his kids. Being a detective put him at a higher advantage as well. Not only was he an aggressive Ghostface but I think his plan was well thought through and executed fairly well and as already mentioned, I actually really like their motive even if it's just another version of Nancy's motive from "Scream 2."

7. Billy Loomis: his motive was to kill Maureen because she was sleeping his his father causing his mother to abandoned them. Which would've been okay if it stopped there but he kept going. It would've made sense if he tortured Sidney while Maureen was still alive. Since she's dead, what's the point? Sidney didn't do anything. At this point their just doing it for fun, I guess? Which is fine, I guess. I can look past that. What puts him kind of low on my list is that he and Stu start stabbing each other to paint themselves as victims before they kill Sidney and Neil. He was carrying out his plan pretty well before that. He killed Maureen, framed Cotton and got away with it for a whole year which is why I let him be a little higher on my list than I originally wanted him to be.

6. Charlie Walker: this is another one that kind of depends on how you view and analyze the movie but in my opinion, Charlie kills everyone in "Scream 4" besides Trevor. With that, he's already a great Ghostface but what knocks him down to seventh place for me is that he was so blinded by his infatuation for Jill that he trusted her to wound him instead of doing it himself, leading to her betraying him and ultimately resulting to his death.

5. Mickey Altieri: I'm putting Mickey right before Charlie because they're situations are very similar. While Nancy helped Mickey more than Jill helped Charlie, I think Mickey still did most of the dirty work but mostly because he wanted to since it's implied he was already a serial killer prior to the event of "Scream 2." Like Charlie he was betrayed by his partner but unlike Charlie it wasn't due to him being blinded by love or anything like that. It was rather sudden and caught him off guard. Ultimately, trusting a stranger and it leading to him being betrayed and almost murdered instead of staying on guard and killing her first loses him points. Plus, his motive was stupid and I didn't like it at all.

4. Nancy Loomis: her motive is rather simple but it's one of the better ones: good old fashioned revenge. She was also smart enough to get someone on the inside (Mickey) because she obviously couldn't been seen by Sidney. She was also partnered with someone who was already a serial killer so it was smart of her to kill him before he could turn on her. Plus, his motive would've more than likely fucked her over which she was very much aware of.

3. Amber Freeman: as I already mentioned when talking about Richie, I believe Amber did all the killing (or at the very least, most.) The directors/writes have basically confirmed in on and off screen that she was the mastermind but let Richie believe he was in charge and did most of the work. She wasn't manipulated into doing the killing, she wanted to and you can see that with how excited she gets after her reveal. She was the one who informed Richie Sam was the daughter of Billy Loomis and she more than likely told him to take Tara's inhaler because the spare one was at her house and she knew Tara would have to go there to get it (Richie literally says "I can't believe this worked" as if he doubted Amber.) Amber also killed a legacy character and wounded the other two. She took on Sidney and Gale, two full grown women, at the same time and even though she ultimately ended up dying she did some damage. Her motive was 10/10 for me. I don't know why people hate it because they literally sound like Amber and Richie complaining about it. She was a child carrying a full grown man. That's embarrassing, which is why Richie is so low but it's iconic for Amber to accomplish so much for being so young.

2. Roman Bridger: he was the only Ghostface to go solo which means he did all the work. He deserves the recognition doing it all himself and getting as close as he did. He also technically started it all by convincing Billy to kill Maureen. I know a lot of people, including the cast, thought it was random for Roman to be Sidney's brother but I think it makes so much sense and I think they executed it well. The storyline wasn't anymore random than Billy having a daughter that no one knew about for years but Amber found out like nothing.

1. Jill Roberts: in my opinion, she is the smartest Ghostface and quite frankly the best when it comes to planning and getting away with it. Sure, she made Charlie do all the Ghostface killings and kills only Trevor and her partner but that's the genius part. Her goal was to become the new Sidney so she had to keep her hands clean as much as possible. She was the only one smart enough to not let her partner wound her and instead betrayed him before he could her. She killed everyone (or so she thought) before beating the shit out of herself and making herself look like the victim. She's the one who got the closest to killing Sidney and getting away with it and shes the only Ghostface to not scream like a maniac when she “comes back” after being seemingly killed. Her motive was 10/10. I remember watching "Scream 4" for the first time and thinking how relevant it was at the time and it's only gotten more relevant with time.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi! can i get a match up for obey me?

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: straight

Appearance: Pretty tall standing at 5’8 or 172 cm. I have brown hair with highlights. I mostly dress and do makeup in the style of trad goth. I have blue eyes

(MBTI &/or Engram if you would like to take the tests and add it) : INTJ

Personality: I’m more reserved. I don’t like to be around people much usually because most people in my area do bad things. I don’t mind social interactions though. I can be extroverted when with the right people. I have a low social battery and can be known to sort of zone out or want to leave places after a bit. I have adhd so if someone does get me talking about one of my interests I will be very excited and talk for a longer period of time. I also tend to be very paranoid due to personal matters.

Likes (at least like three things): Horror movies, cars, baby food, ice skating, sewing, acting, comics (specifically walking dead), reading, learning new things, music (goth music on top), films and tv shows in general, and men (lol)

Dislikes (at least three things): coffee, waking up early, and people who start drama and do bad things

Extra fun fact (this is about whoever you are describing to me): I’m a professional scare actor and I also do theatre acting.

~~~~~ MATCHUP ~~~~~

Obey Me!

Barbatos

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Barbatos was a quiet man who kept to himself a lot. He preferred to associate himself only with Dia and Lucifer, though the other brothers came and went on that list of people he would deal with.

When you came into his life, he was skeptical. Dia had set you two up on a date since you were both entirely withdrawn.

After the date though he did seek you out again if only to hear you talk about your interests, you had a glow about you when you were enjoying something.

As time passed, Barbatos learned more of your tics and traits; at social gatherings, he would find an excuse for you to leave or help you plan the most direct way to get out of something.

Where you were controlled chaos for Barbatos, he was what kept you organized and sane.

When he visited the House of Lamentation to deliver news to Lucifer, he would stop by your room to talk briefly.

Barbatos really liked your style. It suited you, and he felt he could compliment you.

This man is very analytical and always looks for the best possible outcome.

Once you two were dating, he had even more of an excuse to take care of you and assist you in all manners of life. He even took on learning how to do your makeup for you.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

One of Dia's balls was in full swing, the music loud, and so many bodies crammed into a room. You were growing tired and restless, not liking all the close contact. As you began to overthink and panic about your escape, your partner appeared next to you. Barbatos extended his arm and helped guide you close to a balcony. The fresh air sounded nice, way nicer than everything in there. "I am sorry, dear, I can't help you escape yet; Dia plans to showcase all exchange students here shortly." You nodded briefly, just happy to know he did care about you.

As the music died into a slow dance, you turned to look at Barbatos, who was already staring off into the distance. He wasn't needed now; Dia was handling the event well, so this extra moment with you could exist. When he felt your eyes on him, he turned and picked up on the music. Extending his hand to you, he gracefully began to walk you around the balcony in a waltz. As you two danced, you felt light and at ease, Barbatos never judged you and always wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

Once the music ended, Barbatos bowed and took his leave, not before reminding you to come in soon for the speech. When you heard Dia speaking, you walked in and immediately found a spot next to Barbatos. Once the ceremony and the speech were done, Barbatos had a hand on the small of your back, helping lead you out of the crowded hall. Once at the entrance of the castel he spoke, "Remember to stick to the lit roads on your way back, as soon as we finish politics with the other demons I will come and visit you at the House of Lamentation." You smiled and decided to grace his cheek with a kiss. Barbatos never let his smile leave his face for the rest of the night.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(It was raining in the Devildom. Everyone was having a big slumber party at the castle. Everyone was in small groups. You and Barbatos were huddled in a corner, looking over your lines for a play that the school would be hosting.)

Barbatos: No, you should say it more like this.

Y/N: I could, but what about here? The character is obviously feeling sad where. If I said it like that, I would sound indifferent.

Barbatos: Why would that matter, love?

Y/N: Well, Barbatos, let's say I was on the verge of death. Would you sound sad and distraught or just indifferent?

Barbatos: Ah, I see, I would sound sad. However, this is a close friend who is dying, not a lover, and I can tell you for sure if any of the brothers were dying, I would be indifferent.

Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, and Satan: HEY!

Lucifer: Dia, when has Barbatos ever been that happy?

Diavolo: I am the best matchmaker, aren't I? Maybe I should do you next.

[blueraineshadows]

Brothers Part 12

Garreth Weasley 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Oscar Weasley

A love rivalry between two Weasley brothers. Oscar is an OC created by @eternalremorse and used with her permission.

🔞 NSFW series. Chapter Master List.

Chapter Twelve - Birthday Boy

A cheer erupted from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and MC looked up from her bowl of porridge to see Garreth arriving, his cheeks flushing pink as he grinned at his fellow housemates. A few party popping crackers were let loose and confetti sprayed upwards, fluttering down over Garreth as his friends all began to sing Happy Birthday to him.

MC smiled as she watched, chuckling as he made a little bow once the song had ended. Gifts and hugs were thrust upon him as he tried to take a seat, and then there was a rousing call for him to give a speech. After all, it wasn't every day that a young wizard came of age.

"Oh, I would just die of embarrassment if you made me do this," Poppy giggled as she craned her neck to get a better look. "The whole school is watching him! Poor Garreth."

It was nice to have her friend sitting with her at the table for a change. More often these days, Poppy sat with Sebastian, which was understandable, but MC missed her being there beside her.

"Poor Garreth?" MC scoffed as she watched him climb up onto the bench so he could stand above everyone else, his arms held out wide as he grinned. She smirked. "He's loving every minute of this. Look at him."

"Ladies and gentlemen, students and professors," Garreth began, with a nod towards the faculty table. Professor Black looked like he had just swallowed a live Billywig, and Sharp appeared to be getting ready to hold his head in his hands. "I would just like to take the opportunity to thank you all for your kind wishes on this most joyous of days, although being woken up with exploding snappers being thrown onto my bed was not how I expected my day to begin."

A rumble of laughter sounded from the Quidditch lads, and Garreth gave them a rather sarcastic round of applause.

"At least you had your pants on this time, Weasley!" Leander called.

More laughter erupted, and Professor Black was on his feet, a rather red-faced Professor Weasley trying to reassure him as she, too, got to her feet. MC and Poppy exchanged a glance before chuckling themselves, MC trying not to picture what that scene might look like or how fluffy and messy Garreth's hair would look when he woke up. She cleared her throat and stirred her porridge aimlessly as Garreth continued his speech.

"Seeing as it's my birthday, and I am now officially an adult, I want to take the opportunity to invite you lovely lot to the Three Broomsticks this evening for some good old-fashioned fun. All in good taste, of course."

He hastily added that last part with a wink as he saw his aunt hurrying down off the dais towards him. Hands grabbed at him to get him down, and he almost toppled in his haste to perform a courtly bow with extra flourish as Professor Weasley began to scold him. The cheer that erupted was deafening as he jumped down, and MC shook her head and laughed.

"You are going tonight, aren't you?" Poppy asked.

"Of course," MC said, returning to her porridge. "Garreth would never forgive me if I didn't. Besides, I've spent the best part of the last few days helping him and Sebastian prepare those special brews. I want to have fun sampling them, too."

Poppy grinned and clapped her hands together. "Oh, it's so exciting, and I am so glad to see you getting out and having fun. I was worried you might not go, you know, because of Oscar..."

MC's smile slipped a little as her gaze returned to the Gryffindor table, her eyes seeking out a different head of red hair. Yes. Oscar.

He was laughing with his friends as they continued to lavish attention on the birthday boy, looking as handsome as ever, and her chest tightened. She had been avoiding him, holding off the inevitable time when they would have to face each other properly again. She knew it had been the right choice to leave him, but that didn't mean it was easy.

Oscar's head turned, and his lovely blue eyes met hers. Their gazes locked for a moment, a flicker of sadness and longing in his that made the tightness in her chest increase. She felt her cheeks warm, remembering softer moments shared with him, but they were over now. She managed a small smile, polite and maybe a little sad, too. Then, she dropped her gaze, not wanting to prolong eye contact.

It was the most interaction they'd had since she had ended things, and she knew it would be impossible to avoid him at the party later. She didn't want to make things awkward, nor did she want to fall out with him. She had needed the space apart, but would it hurt to be friends? Would he want that?

Finishing up her breakfast, she got to her feet with the intention of getting some library time before her first class of the day. As she passed by the Gryffindor table, a hand shot out to grab her arm, she halted and looked down into twinkling, green eyes. Garreth’s smile filled his face, and she couldn't help but return it.

"Happy Birthday!" She said, her smile turning into a laugh. "Great speech, by the way."

"Why, thank you!" He got to his feet, arms spread open, fingers gesturing for her to get closer. "Come on, where's my birthday hug? You're not escaping out of here before giving me one."

MC stared at him, lips parting. It was just a hug, nothing to get all worked up about, they had hugged before. And yet, her cheeks warmed as she stepped forward into his arms, her hands gripping lightly at his back as he enveloped her in warmth and a tight squeeze.

He rocked them slightly, his scent filling her nose, her body far too aware of being pressed against him, especially in front of the whole school. It didn’t make her panic, though, or feel the urge to pull away. If anything, she wanted to lean into it more, burying her face into the warm, inviting crook of his neck and soaking up the safety she knew she would find there. Instinctively, her fingers gripped the back of his robe a little tighter, subtly squeezing him back.

He made a humming sound of content and then pulled back, a wide grin on his face, their eyes meeting with softness. "Best birthday hug so far."

"So far? Are you planning on receiving many more, then?"

"What can I say? I love a cuddle, and today is the perfect excuse to indulge in some," he said.

Evidently, as his arms were still loosely around her. It was very difficult to not be caught up in their effortless warmth. Ever since the moment they had shared with the Thestral in the forest, there had been an even stronger closeness between them. It was unspoken, but definitely there.

Realising their embrace had probably lingered for too long had her eyes straying over Garreth’s shoulder to where the Quidditch boys were sitting at the table. Oscar was watching them with those lovely, blue eyes of his. Only they weren't sparkling with his usual good humour and charm. They were sad and dull, narrowed as he watched them. MC became all too aware of how closely she was standing with Garreth, and despite her and Oscar parting ways, guilt still pulled at her.

MC cleared her throat and slipped out from Garreth's arms, giving them a little squeeze before she stepped back, smile fixed in place.

"Can I come and find you later before the party?” She asked, wanting to give him his gift in privacy.

"Of course!” He beamed. “I will be collecting the party brews later this afternoon after classes. You know where to find me.”

Indeed, she did.

....*....

The common room was cosy with a roaring fire, and students were milling about. Oscar rubbed his hands together, warming them up after walking back from the beast enclosures. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, but he had enjoyed being outside with the animals. There was something very enjoyable about spending time there lately, and he had found himself returning often.

As he passed by the fireplace, he caught sight of Garreth perched in his favourite spot, his journal open, and his head bent forward as he wrote in it. Beside him sat a box of Honeydukes sweets, no doubt a gift, and Oscar's lips twitched with a smile. He remembered many birthdays before this one where Garreth would get so excited to see boxes of sweets waiting for him.

Before they came to Hogwarts, Garreth would leap from his bed on his birthday, not even pausing to pull socks onto his feet against the freezing cold, before bounding down the stairs to see what waited for him on their scrubbed kitchen table.

Garreth always found the joy in life. Their family were by no means well off, unlike other pure bloods. They were simple farmers with a modest home. While gifts were more practical or homemade, Garreth found them pleasing enough, his eyes lighting up and his smile wide as he hugged his thanks. Even now, a proper adult as of today, Garreth accepted the love and attention bestowed upon him with smiling eyes and returned every hug and best wishes with enthusiasm.

Oscar paused to study his brother for a moment, a man now, his shoulders widened, and his legs long. His freckled hands blessed with long, graceful fingers, his normally rounded cheeks slimming down into chiselled, handsome lines that made girls turn to look. He had never thought to envy his younger brother before. But today he did. He envied his jovial outlook, his ability to look on the bright side. He envied the light-hearted outlook he had with no pressure on his shoulders to be the best. He was grateful for his lot, warm and generous, with a heart so big he had room for anyone who was willing to share it.

No wonder MC looked at him the way she did.

Oscar swallowed down the disappointment, still trying to come to terms with the loss of MC, and it wasn't helped when he witnessed moments such as this morning in the Great Hall. Garreth had received hugs from fellow students, but none had lingered as long as the time MC was in his arms. Their eyes had only been for each other, their smiles lit with the same soft warmth.

Oscar had noticed she could barely look at him, and it felt like a punch to the gut. He missed her.

Attempting to push those thoughts to one side, he moved around to lean over the back of the settee, reaching to ruffle his brother's soft locks and he got the familiar slap to the hand. He grinned at twinkling green eyes.

"How's the birthday going, brother? Are you all ready for tonight?"

"Absolutely! The brews are ready if you want to make a purchase before we head out," Garreth said, closing his journal and pocketing his pencil. “I'm going to fetch them shortly.”

"Purchase? But, I'm family! Surely, I qualify for a freebie."

Garreth chuckled and shook his head. "Business is business, Oscar. Seb and I worked our socks off to get those brews ready. We expect to turn a profit tonight, and we won't do that by giving them away for free, family, or not."

Oscar eyed Garreth as he stood, pondering over this underground potion business he had on the go. Instead of complaining about their family’s lack of gold, or just going without as they had often been forced to do growing up, Garreth was taking matters into his own hands and trying to find his own way. Oscar wasn't sure he liked the idea of him doing it with that smug Slytherin, Sallow, but he was proud of Garreth nonetheless.

"Carry on like this, brother, and you'll be putting old Pippin out of a job," he said.

Garreth came around the settee to stand with him, a little smirk on his lips. He gave Oscar a wink. "Maybe that's the grand plan."

Oscar chuckled and put his arm around his shoulders as they headed for the dormitory stairs. If it was his grand plan, he didn't doubt him. He was sure Garreth could achieve whatever he put his mind to, and Oscar would support him in any way he could. What else were big brothers for?

....*....

With two varieties of alcohol punch brews on offer, Garreth was feeling rather pleased with their efforts as he and Sebastian finished off filling the potion bottles and putting them in little crates. The profit to be gained if they sold them all would be worth the hours spent.

The cheeky grin he shared with Sebastian as they looked at their hard work was worth it, too. Despite the grumbles from Oscar and Leander, Garreth appreciated the friendship he had developed with Sebastian and wasn’t about to give it up.

"This has actually been rather fun making these," Garreth said. He gave his Slytherin friend a pat on the back. "I appreciate all your help, mate."

Sebastian smiled and rubbed his hands together. "I've had fun too, if you must know. I wouldn't be opposed to doing this more often, especially if we cash in. I've got some ideas on some other potions we could offer if you fancy it."

"Sounds good to me," Garreth nodded. "Let's get these stowed away safely ready for later, an enlarged pocket charm should do the trick. We can take some each and sell them quietly. Best not upset Sirona after she has generously allowed us to take over the Broomsticks this evening."

The rarely used bathroom continued to be their brewing hiding spot, but if they were going to do this long term, they would probably need to find a better place of operations. Garreth was thinking over some options when the bathroom door opened, and they both turned to see who had entered, their eyes wide with panic at the prospect of being caught.

It was MC, her smiling face a most welcome sight as she closed the door behind her. She had a parcel under her arm, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a green ribbon, that she held up with a twinkle in her eye.

"Hello, gentlemen. I have a special delivery for the birthday boy," she said, coming closer towards them and eyeing the little crates. "Oh, these look good. Are you all done? I was going to offer my help."

"Yep, all done," Sebastian said, fluffing the hair on the back of his head. He looked between her and Garreth and smiled. "In fact, I might leave you to chat and get going seeing as we're done here. I have some other errands to run before dinner."

Garreth caught the cheeky wink Sebastian flashed at him before he headed for the door and felt his cheeks warm as he realised that Sebastian probably didn't have any errands at all, he was merely giving him a moment alone with MC.

As the door swung shut behind Sebastian, Garreth turned his gaze to her, his tummy fluttering. She was looking lovely, her hair partly pinned back from her face with soft strands framing her pink cheeks. She held up the little parcel towards him with a shy smile.

"This is for you," she said. "I wanted to give it to you before everything got all crazy with the party."

"You didn't have to do this," he said, taking the parcel from her with a pleased smile. "My lovely hug this morning was like a gift in itself."

Nevertheless, he tugged at the green ribbon excitedly and slid it free before tearing open the brown paper to reveal a leather bound book. The cover was soft and supple beneath his fingers, the leather of fine quality. Opening the book revealed smooth, blank parchment pages, and he looked up at her in surprise.

“It’s a new journal,” she said, biting her lower lip nervously. “I noticed how quickly you were filling your current one up, and I thought I would get you a new one for all these new potion ideas you keep having.”

He looked down at the journal again, his heart swelling. She had noticed such a thing and acted on it. Something that was so very personal to him, and she cared enough to respect and encourage it. He closed the book with a soft thump, his fingers smoothing over the soft brown leather. Then, a gasp left his lips at the monogram imprinted into the corner of the leather, his own initials - G.W.

“You put my name on it,” he said softly, tracing his initials with a fingertip.

She smiled, her cheeks pink as she nodded, and then she stepped forward to flip open the front cover. “I also wrote on the inside, I hope you don’t mind.”

“For Garreth, on your seventeenth birthday. You may have come of age, but don’t stop dreaming. I believe in you. Happy Birthday, love from MC xx”

Garreth read over the words a few times and actually felt his throat tighten up at the sentiment. She believed in him, and not only that, she had written the words inside his new journal where he could see them every day. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would form. He took a breath and rubbed his fingertips against his forehead as he tried to get a grip on the emotions swelling in his chest. How could one person make you feel so much?

“Is it alright? Was it too much?” She touched her fingers to her lips, her eyes worried as she looked at him. “You can remove my words if so…”

He met her gaze, eyes actually stinging a bit, and he blinked back the dumb tears as he pressed the journal to his chest.

“I love… it, I love it,” he said thickly, almost spilling out the truth of what was hidden in his heart.

He loved her. He loved her for being so warm, so thoughtful, for being the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and sticking by him. There were so many reasons he could list as to why he felt her in every beat of his heart, but right now, he loved her for believing in him and putting that statement down in ink.

At her little sigh of relief, he pulled her in close, crushing her to him in a bone squeezing hug that still didn’t convey the mass of feelings in his chest. The journal was gripped firmly in one hand, his other hand had found its way into her hair, the locks soft as they spilled through his fingers. He buried his face into it, breathing her in as he held her tightly, their bodies pressed so close he could feel the soft curves of her breasts crushed against him. He heard her soft gasp, felt her hands grip his robe as she hugged him back, his face nuzzling close to her ear. He closed his eyes, suspended in time as he held her, not wanting to let go.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he whispered, his breath teasing at the hair around her ear. “This hug beats all other hugs today, including your one from this morning.”

She shivered, her hands clutching at him more tightly, her breath a soft rasp near his own ear. He wasn’t sure, but had she whispered his name? His blood seemed to sparkle and fizz at the thought. Holding her was feeding the addiction, he couldn't get enough and always, always he wanted more.

His fingers pushed deeper into her hair, the tips grazing against her scalp as his lips pressed to the delicate shell of her ear. Emboldened by the fact that she wasn’t pulling away, he pressed further kisses over her ear until they found the delicate skin underneath. She was trembling, the fresh scent of apples filling his nose as he savoured her softness under his lips.

Breathing a little faster now, his lips moved to her jaw and the soft curve of her cheek before pressing slowly and softly near the corner of her mouth. It was bold, his heart racing, but he just couldn't stop himself.

“Garreth…”

He heard her properly that time, her breath hot against his face as she breathed just as hard as he did, her hand had cupped his face and her lovely eyes burned so close to his that there was no way he could stop himself before his mouth claimed hers.

The soft press of his lips was met with an eager press of her own, the kiss lingering with an aching need that had him seeking for more. Kissing her again and again, starved and hungry for that sweet softness he had been craving for so long. Daring to swipe his tongue against her lower lip was so worth it when he was rewarded with her soft moan, her lips parting to welcome him and he didn’t hesitate before sliding his tongue into her mouth with a moan of his own.

Her response was almost overwhelming after waiting so long to experience this kind of intimacy with her, their bodies couldn’t be any closer and she clung to him, their kiss deepening further until there was nothing else but her. So lost in the feel and taste, Garreth didn’t realise that they were moving until they hit the wall with a thud, MC pressed up against it as his hips pinned her tightly.

He didn’t want to stop, his body was aflame with want for her, but he paused, pressing his forehead against hers as they both tried to catch their breaths. His thumb traced her cheek, sliding down and over her lower lip that was damp and swollen from his kiss.

“Wow…” he whispered. “That was… I could do that forever.”

Her eyes were glazed with a fire that called to him as her lips curved into the sweetest smile. It made his ache sharpen, and he pressed another kiss to those soft lips, already craving more. Her eyes closed, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as he nibbled at her lower lip, but as she opened her eyes, he could see the hesitation. That fiery haze was clearing, and he knew what she was going to say. He pulled back, fighting the disappointment that was about to sweep over him as he nodded.

“Garreth, I…”

“It’s alright,” he said, seeking out her hand and holding it firmly in his grasp, bringing it up against his chest where his heart thumped a maddening beat. “I know, it’s too soon. I understand.”

“I’ve already hurt him once,” she said with a wince. She shook her head regretfully. “I can’t stomp on him further. It’s not fair. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, cupping her face again, swallowing down his disappointment. “I understand. Oscar is my brother, I don’t want to hurt him either. I lost control of myself. It’s me that should be apologising.”

“No,” she whispered, her fingers tracing over his cheek. Her touch was feather-light as she explored the shape of his face, trailing over his eyebrows and nose, her thumb brushing over his lips as she followed the movements with her eyes. “Don’t ever apologise for kissing me like that, Garreth. I could never regret such a thing…”

He stared at her, holding his breath. “What does that mean?”

“It means that this is everything I knew it would be, but we have to wait,” she said, biting her lip. She met his gaze, her eyes searching for understanding. “We can’t hurt Oscar. Let’s just give it some time.”

This was all sensible talk, of course, but he wasn’t sure he had the patience for it. Especially now he knew what it was like to kiss her and hold her like this. She didn't regret it, she wanted it too. The urge to jump and cheer was so vivid it almost brought tears to his eyes.

His joy would be his brother's pain, though. She was right. The thought of stopping was unbearable, unthinkable.

What if they didn't have to stop?

“We could be discreet,” he said hopefully, a smile lifting his lips. His eyes twinkled at the idea, his fingers sliding up into her hair again to cup her head. “When we are alone, we can be like this. We can keep it our little secret for a while. What do you think?”

To have her in his arms like this and face the prospect of giving it up tightened his chest. He held her closer, begging with his eyes and gentle strokes in her hair. This is what he wanted. It was everything. It would be the best birthday ever if she agreed to be his.

He could see the cogs turning in her mind as she thought about it, a war raging behind her eyes that he wanted to win. Of course, he loved his brother, and hurting him would be the last thing he would want to do.

But this was her.

He had wanted her for so long, and Oscar knew it. He wouldn’t have told him to stay away from her if he didn’t. Was it so wrong to want to win for once? Oscar always came out a winner. When would it be his turn?

“Can I try and convince you?” He grinned. He bent to press a kiss to her lips, trailing his mouth to her jaw and savouring the soft gasp she made as he pressed teasing kisses to her throat, his tongue sliding against her skin in a daring taste. The soft sound she made as he gently sucked her neck was everything.

“You don’t need to convince me,” she said, her voice a little breathless as she guided his face back to hers. “But this is what I mean about having self-control around other people. If I say yes to you, and we do this, we can’t touch each other in public. Nobody can know about this…”

She groaned and put her hands to her face. “Oh, Garreth, we would be lying to everyone! Can we really do that?”

“It’s not lying,” he said, gently removing her hands from her face. “Not really. We’re just keeping it for ourselves for a while. A special secret just for us. But, if you really don’t feel comfortable with it, then we don’t have to. I would never make you do anything you didn’t want to do, MC. No matter how much I want to be able to kiss you. I’ve waited this long, I can wait for a while more.”

“How long have you been waiting?” She asked, her voice almost a whisper.

He felt his cheeks warm, his gaze flicking down to where his hand was still holding hers before lifting back to meet her eyes. “Since you asked if I could write to you over the summer break,” he admitted.

He had been delighted when she had slipped him her address, even if it did mean he had to commit to actually writing letters, he didn’t mind doing it for her. Every letter she had sent he had saved, they were all in a large envelope that he kept safe, returning to them every now and then to read over what she had written. Along with all the mentions of her in his journal, he’d never written so much about a single person before.

So much of her was threaded through his existence. His writing, his art, and his everyday thoughts were all circled around her. Even the air he breathed needed to carry the scent of her these days.

“I kept all of your letters, you know,” she said. “Every single one I saved. My favourite is the one with the hummingbird drawing at the bottom. It’s so beautiful.”

His lips curved into a shy smile. “Well, they are beautiful birds. Small and mighty, a bit like you.”

“Oh, Garreth,” she said, shaking her head, a fond smile on her lips. She kissed him again, a soft brush of lips. She stayed really close, their noses almost touching as she met his gaze. “Do you think you can keep our secret during the party tonight?”

“So, that’s a yes? We’re really doing this?” He asked, eyes lighting up.

She nodded, smiling. “We’re really doing this.”

He made a whooping sound of delight, giving in to his joy, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist to lift her clean off her feet and swing her around. She laughed, her arms finding their way around his neck, the feeling that she was right where she belonged strong in his heart.

….*....

“You are looking rather cheerful this evening, MC,” Poppy said as she smoothed her hand over her dress and smiled at her own reflection in the looking glass of the ladies' toilets. She threw MC a curious glance. “What’s put you in such a good mood?”

MC’s smile was secretive, the warmth in her eyes fed by the glow that was desperate to burst out of her chest. She touched her fingers to her lips, still thinking about Garreth’s kiss from earlier, and couldn’t help the wider smile that lifted her lips. It was so tempting to admit the truth and tell Poppy what had happened in the bathroom earlier, but she held back. Her and Garreth had promised to keep it their secret for now, and there was something very special about it being just for them.

“I’m just enjoying the evening,” she said, adjusting her blouse. “It’s time to move on.”

“Oh, does that mean you are going to dust off the top five list? Who will be next for a kiss?” Poppy giggled, her eyes narrowing with interest.

MC’s blush was dark, and she waved Poppy off. “Don’t start with that nonsense,” she scoffed. “I thought you would have forgotten all about that now you have Sebastian.”

Poppy gave a little sigh, her mouth twisting thoughtfully. “Maybe. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Seb is lovely,” she said carefully. “But, I’m not sure if it’s really anything long term.”

MC gaped at her. “But… Poppy, you slept with him!”

“I know, and it was so good. I don’t regret Seb being the first at all,” she said, her cheeks flushing a bit. Then she shrugged, her face turning regretful. “I just don’t see him being the last. Something just doesn’t feel right, and I think he knows it, too. Please, don't be angry. I wasn't sure how to tell you.”

A wave of sadness washed over MC. Her two best friends together seemed like the ideal situation, but the thought of them not being happy was the last thing she expected to hear. She stared at Poppy, thinking over the bright eyes and flushed glow she had been sporting lately and wondered what had gone wrong. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so hard to imagine, especially after the way things had ended up for her and Oscar.

It was hard not to have the initial instinct to defend Sebastian. He had been hurt enough, and she didn’t want to see it happen again. Looking at Poppy, a girl who had been her first close female friend, she wondered if she would be able to choose a side if it came down to that. She could only hope that Poppy was right in her assumption that Sebastian felt the same way.

“I'm not angry, Poppy,” she said, placing her hand gently on her arm. “But, you need to talk to him. The longer you leave it, the harder it gets. Trust me.”

“I do plan to speak with him,” she said. “But not tonight, and don’t you say anything to him, either. I know how close you two are.”

“I won't say anything, I don’t want to get in the middle of it,” MC said firmly. She had enough problems of her own without getting tangled up in theirs. “Come on, let’s get back to the party. I haven’t bought my special brews from Garreth yet.”

Poppy smirked and pulled two little bottles from her dress pocket, holding them up with a wiggle. “It’s a good thing I thought ahead then,” she said, handing one to MC. “Bottoms up!”

Downing the little drink, MC gasped and coughed, putting a hand to her chest as the brew burned all the way down. “Bloody hell!”

Poppy giggled through her own spluttering before grabbing MC by the arm. “Come on, let’s go and dance. We need to find you a boy to kiss as well.”

“Poppy, no…” MC protested, but it was pointless. Poppy may be small, but she had no problems dragging MC back out into the pub where the band was in full swing.

The Three Broomsticks was packed to the rafters with students and locals, and the band was playing music that got your feet stomping. There were already plenty of patrons dancing, the atmosphere one of good-natured fun with paper streamers decorating the room. The bar was busy, two or three people deep in places, and Sirona looked rushed off her feet, but her smile was wide as she served her customers.

Despite the crowded pub, MC was already seeking out the whereabouts of Garreth, finding him holding court with his friends. His gaze immediately locked with hers, and he gave her a soft smile. Ever since she had arrived, they had been catching each other’s eyes across the room, unable to stop seeking each other out as the memory of their kiss played out in her thoughts. A line had been crossed now. All she could think about was having another taste of his kisses, her gaze pulled to his mouth, her body warming with an ache that pulled hot and fierce.

Did it show on her face when she gazed his way? Their eyes would meet, and that ache would flare, her lips twitching at the corners before she dipped her gaze away, that little smile lingering on her lips.

It was impossible. He was so close and yet so far, within reach and yet he was like forbidden fruit, her hands fidgeting with the need to feel his warmth, but held back out of respect for the boy who was at his side.

Oscar had been near him all evening so far and she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to speak to him yet, putting it off and keeping her distance from both Weasley boys. All she could do was stare at Garreth with longing and wait for their next stolen moment.

In the meantime, Poppy had pulled her to the dancing area, joining the throng of people taking part in a dance that saw them switching partners as they moved around the space. They started by dancing together, Poppy’s earlier worries over Sebastian seemingly gone as she twirled and skipped with MC.

As the partners moved to switch, Poppy giggled and shoved MC right into the arms of a tall, dark haired chap who gave her a huge smile before twirling her around. He looked vaguely familiar, a seventh year Ravenclaw if she wasn’t mistaken, but before she could get a chance to speak to him, the couples were swapping again, and she found herself in the arms of a pretty, blonde witch.

The dance was fast, and combined with the effects of Garreth’s potent brew, MC was breathless and flushed when she found herself in the arms of Oscar. Breath catching, she stared up into his familiar blue eyes, his hands warm and firm at her waist as they spun in the dance. His smile was aimed at her, as disarming as ever, and she gave him a hesitant smile in return. The last time she had been in his arms, it had been far more intimate, but that was behind them now.

“You look lovely,” he said near her ear. There was something dark and longing in his eyes as she looked up at him, and she swallowed hard, resisting the urge to pull away from him.

She lowered her gaze, unable to look at him as the weight of Garreth’s kiss lay over her. That was where she longed to be, after all, with Garreth, and she feared the truth would be laid bare in her eyes. It should be Garreth’s hands at her waist, leading her in a dance like he had that day in the centre of Hogsmeade.

Oscar's fingers gently caught her chin, tilting her face up towards him. “MC…”

“Don't,” she said quickly, the look in his eyes saying more than enough. It made her chest squeeze, fearing she might have to say the words that had hurt him all over again. “Don't say anything, please.”

The effort to hide his disappointment played out across his face, but he nodded, continuing on with the quick steps of the dance until she was whisked away into the arms of another, his words swallowed down and left unspoken.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she met his gaze. Whatever he had been about to say was better left unsaid, no matter how difficult it was to see the loss on his face. It was time to move on.

Losing the enthusiasm for the dance, MC excused herself from her partner and made her way from the dance floor, a tight band squeezing around her chest. The air felt too hot and restrictive, the noise and press of bodies had become overwhelming and she needed some air.

The night sky was littered with stars, the air crisp and fresh against her flushed cheeks as she sought a moment in the darkness, the soft glow of various lights in the village adding to the cheerful charm of Hogsmeade. MC rubbed her arms, her skin chilled through the thin fabric of her blouse, turning as the door to the pub opened again behind her.

Garreth appeared, alone and so very handsome in his burgundy shirt and dark, grey waistcoat, his mop of hair tumbling about his freckled face. He paused, a hesitant smile on his lips as he regarded her.

“I saw you with Oscar,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. As he spoke, his breath misted in the cold air. “I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

The urge to run to him, to throw her arms around him and bury her face into his neck, seemed to consume every nerve ending in her limbs. She flexed her fingers, forcing her feet to remain planted on the well-worn cobbled street. Someone could see, and lips would whisper. Keeping the secret was going to be harder than she thought.

“Can we sneak away? Do you think we would be missed?” After asking, a small laugh slipped past her lips, and she shook her head. “What am I saying? You're the guest of honour, of course you will be missed.”

Garreth smiled and moved closer towards her. “If that's what you want, just say the word, and we will go.”

He pulled a hand from his pocket, reaching out to touch his fingers to hers. His eyes held more warmth than any flame as he looked at her. They could go right now. She pictured it, grabbing his hand and running to the nearest Floo point. They could be gone in moments, their lips free to kiss, their hands free to hold each other away from all the prying eyes.

But she wasn't so selfish that she would drag him away from his own birthday party.

The door swung open again, and Leander stumbled out, laughing as his friend Elijah staggered out behind him, chasing off any imagined dreams she may have of making a sneaky getaway. Clearly, they had been indulging in a few of Garreth’s potent brews and were well past the tipsy point. How everyone was going to sneak back to the castle without being caught was a mystery MC didn't fancy solving.

“There he is! Hey, birthday boy,” Leander cheered, pointing at them. He took in the scene, and MC went to remove her fingers from Garreth's, but he grasped them tighter as he turned to look at his friends. “What are you up to, Garreth, eh? Are you trying to get yourself a birthday kiss or something?”

Elijah chuckled and nudged Leander's shoulder. “I thought Nellie was going to do that.”

Leander shook his head and put his finger to his lips. “Shh, no. Nellie wants to, but Garreth wants to kiss MC, but that's a secret. Don't tell her. Or Oscar…”

MC looked at Garreth with an eyebrow raised. So much for being discreet. He gave her a sheepish look and rolled his eyes.

“Fuck sake, Lee. Can you not keep your trap shut for five minutes?” Garreth grumbled.

Leander still had his finger over his lips, giggling as him and Elijah swayed on their feet. “Garreth, shh. She's right there.”

Elijah mumbled something about leaving them to it and pulled Leander back towards the door, both of them almost falling over their own feet as they managed to get the door open in another fit of giggles.

MC removed her hand from Garreth's and folded her arms, trying to give him a stern look, but it was hard. He looked too adorable standing there looking guilty, his cheeks flushed pink.

“Did you tell Leander about us?”

“No, at least not what happened today, but Leander has known how I feel about you for a while.” He was fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat, the toe of his boat scraping against the cobbles. “I'm surprised he hasn't blabbed before now to tell the truth.”

“I see,” she said, tilting her head slightly. She narrowed her eyes, pretending to ignore the flutter in her tummy at his admission of having feelings for a while. “So, Nellie wants to give you a birthday kiss, does she?”

Garreth shook his head, green eyes earnest and wide. “I wasn't going to let her, MC. I swear it on the sword of Gryffindor. You're the only girl I want to kiss.”

MC fought back her smile, the tightness in her chest seemingly gone as she looked into those green eyes, the sweet natured person behind them holding a magic aura that just seemed to make everything feel that much lighter and safer. Whenever she felt lost, he pulled her back, his light a warmth she couldn't help but follow.

It was so easy to believe him. There was no doubt that he wouldn't let Nellie kiss him, and even though the very thought of it made her tummy twist with envy, she felt safe that it wouldn't happen. She felt safe with Garreth.

“So, I don't need to be hexing Miss Oggspire just yet, then?” She teased.

“No need at all,” he said.

He took her hand again, lifting it to his lips so he could press a quick kiss to the back of it, and smiled, green eyes twinkling now. “A little taster for what I want to do once we can be alone. For now, let's get back to the party before Leander tells the whole pub I want to snog you silly.”

MC smirked. “Maybe I will get to hex someone after all if he does.”

He chuckled and took her arm. “Come on, let's get you a drink. There will be no need for any hexing. You leave Leander to me.”

….*....

To dance with MC, just a simple touch to her waist and a look into her eyes, and all the feelings Oscar had been trying to push down came bubbling back up. He still wanted her.

Stupidly, he had taken it too far and touched her face, opened his mouth, and nearly made a fool of himself. The swiftness with which she had shut him down told him plenty. There would be no going back.

There was no escaping the lingering glances between her and Garreth either. Maybe it was because he was looking for it. Garreth’s journal and Trixie's words still plagued him, and he couldn't help but watch out for little signs. They were circling each other, staying further apart than usual, and yet their eyes seemingly found a way to keep a connection.

When MC had left the pub after their dance, he had fought against the urge to follow her, and then Garreth had made his way towards the door instead. Oscar watched his brother disappear after the girl he had lost and shook his head. It would be like holding back the tide trying to deny what was under his nose, and he really wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Jealous, perhaps, jealous and annoyed that his own brother would take his girlfriend. Torn, because of his natural instinct to want his brother to be happy, too. He knew Garreth felt inadequate at times, and Oscar had wished for him to find his way. Why did that have to be with MC, though?

Wallowing in his own self-pity, Oscar headed for the bar in search of a whiskey. Drowning his sorrows was likely a dumb choice, but right now, it seemed to be in order. He was on his second shot when a familiar waft of perfume filled his nose, and he looked down at a pair of eyes currently settled as a deep, midnight blue. Trixie always had a smile for him, those pretty little lips curved upwards with sinful promise.

“You always look pleased to see me, Trix,” he said, twirling his glass on the bar top. “Can I get you a drink?”

Her smile widened a touch. “I'll take a whiskey, seeing as you're offering.”

Oscar signalled for another shot and leant against the bar, eyeing the dark-haired girl beside him. He didn't flinch back as she lifted her hand and gently brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead.

“Why so sad, Oscar? It's supposed to be a party,” she said softly.

“You were right,” he said with a sigh. “I think MC and my brother are inevitable.”

“I'm sorry, honey,” she said, her hand lingering to touch his cheek. “Try not to let it bring you down, though. Sometimes, things don't work out how we want them to. We just have to find ways to move on.”

There was something very sad behind her eyes when she said this, and it made him study her thoughtfully. She had always been a means to an end if he was being honest, a tumble in the sheets, and then gone. She had never been one for the deep and meaningful side of things, and yet lately, she had been softer than usual.

It was a side of herself she rarely showed. He felt bad for using her, his realisation from the other day catching up to him. His actions had consequences, and he wondered if he had ever hurt her feelings. If he had, she had never shown it. Trixie was always hanging around near the Quidditch ground, and she always had a smile for him. They had never made any promises to each other, and that way, nobody should have gotten hurt.

The whiskey glass appeared on the bar for her, and he reached out to pass it along, her own hand moving to pick it up, too. Their fingers brushed, eyes meeting with a smile.

“Is that what you did after us?” He asked. “Did you just move on?”

Trixie merely smiled and held up her whiskey glass in salute. “Here’s to moving on,” she toasted.

….*....

Garreth had been urged up onto a table top in full view of everyone, the band playing along as the pub sang Happy Birthday to him. All the attention was becoming a little overwhelming after a whole day of it, and all he could think about was MC’s suggestion about slipping away somewhere on their own. His eyes sought her out in the crowd of school friends around him. Her smiling face was the only one he wanted to see.

As the clapping and cheering thundered around him, he jumped down from the table and saw Nellie Oggspire waiting eagerly for him. A momentary flicker of panic lit through him after what Leander and Elijah had mentioned, his eyes glancing at her hopeful eyes and smiling mouth. There was nothing wrong with Nellie. She was perfectly lovely, but there was only one girl for him. Just as he was pondering how to put her off in a gentle, kind manner, a flurry of brunette hair and strong arms saw him being pulled away through the crowd.

“Come on, birthday boy,” Sebastian chuckled, slapping him heartily on the back. He leant in close to Garreth to speak quietly into his ear. “That was a close one. Nellie nearly pounced on you then, and you don't want that when a certain Hufflepuff is giving you the soft eyes. MC has been staring at you all night. Got something to share, Garreth?”

Garreth gave Sebastian a side-eyed look, his cheeks colouring up wonderfully as they pressed through the crowd. Relief at avoiding Nellie mingled with the realisation that it would be very hard to keep this secret from Sebastian.

“I don't know what you mean,” he said carefully. “Thanks for saving me, though. Nellie is lovely and all, but not my type.”

“Don't you worry, mate. I've got your back,” Sebastian said with a grin. “Why don’t you ask MC for a dance?”

Garreth glanced over to where Oscar was chatting with Trixie. They were laughing, Oscar leaning in close, his most charming smile on his lips as his hand touched her elbow. Ever since he had spotted them together, he had felt tense and agitated. He wondered if it was jealousy. After all, it wasn't that long ago that he had been sneaking into broom cupboards with Trixie.

It wasn't jealousy, though. No. He was pissed off.

Garreth had been the master of restraint all day since his kiss with MC in the bathroom and all to save the feelings of his brother. Well, Oscar didn’t look too bothered now, with his hand tracing up Trixie’s arm.

“Your brother just can’t help himself, can he?” Sebastian said, following the direction of Garreth’s gaze. “I hope that wasn’t going on whilst he was with MC. Trixie is always sniffing around him.”

“No point worrying about it now,” Garreth said with a sigh, turning to search out MC. “Where is MC? I might just ask her for that dance after all.”

Sebastian patted his shoulder and smirked. “Go get her, Weasley.”

Approaching MC shouldn’t have made him nervous, but he could feel the tremble in his hands as he drew nearer. He felt like everyone was watching him as he put a tentative hand to her elbow. Maybe Oscar would come and drag them apart, try to stop them. Garreth would like to see him try. He would fight for her this time. All that training with Sebastian had given him a boost of new confidence.

MC's eyes met his, a smile lifting her lips as she turned from her chat with Poppy. “Hey, Garreth.”

“Erm, I was wondering… May I have the next dance?” He asked, holding out his hand towards her.

The seconds seemed to stretch as she looked down at his hand, her teeth catching at her lower lip in a way that made him want to snatch her up and run away with her. Poppy was watching, her face splitting into a wide grin as she gave MC a gentle nudge.

“Oh, how charming! MC would love to, wouldn’t you?” Poppy gave MC another nudge with a little giggle. “He even has freckles.”

MC’s face flooded with colour, delicate pink staining her cheeks and neck as Poppy continued to urge her forward. Garreth gave them both a puzzled look. What did his freckles have to do with anything?

However, MC was placing her hand into his, handing over her mug of Butterbeer to Poppy as she gave him a shy smile. “I would love to dance with you,” she said softly.

It was the perfect excuse to be able to place his hands on her, holding her waist and her hand, as they twirled about the floor. Joining in with many other couples doing the same, it was easy to get lost in the crowd, and he risked holding her a little closer.

“What’s so special about my freckles, then?” He asked, leaning close to her ear to speak above the music.

He caught her smile as she leaned in to answer. “Would it interest you to know I have a ‘thing’ for freckles? I find them very attractive.”

“Is that so?” He lifted his arm to twirl her around, his arm sliding about her waist to hold her even closer. “Then it might interest you to know I don’t just have freckles on my face.”

His mouth twitched in amusement as her wide eyes glanced down at his chest. He brought their clasped hands up between them, displaying the back of his with a playful smirk. “I also have them on my hands.”

There was that gorgeous smile of hers, her laughter bringing the sparkle out in her eyes. It felt good to see it, even better knowing he was the one who put it there.

Her smile faded, though, as her gaze drifted towards the bar. A shadow flickered in her eyes, and he turned to look at Oscar and Trixie still there together. He felt his stomach tighten, and he turned them both so MC had her back to the bar.

“Just keep your eyes on me,” he said softly. “I've got you.”

They moved with the music, their bodies grazing against each other in the most teasing of brushes, each touch building on the flame that flickered inside of him. She did as he said and kept her gaze on him.

As the song came to an end and they paused to clap, MC moved as if to leave the dance floor. Garreth reached for her, his hands sliding about her waist from behind, tugging her back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, his mouth dangerously close to her ear. “That was only half a dance. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Garreth,” she gasped, twisting to look at him. “Isn’t this a little daring? People can see us, you know.”

Oscar could see, more like, but Garreth found he didn't care. He turned her fully so that she faced him, his hands securely holding her waist now. “One more dance with me, or we can sneak out of here. Either way, I fully intend on keeping my hands on you.”

His heart was racing at his boldness. He didn't want to push her too far. However, he couldn't seem to hold back. He was tired of holding back for others.

“Oh, really?” She said, her eyebrows lifting. “You're sounding rather confident, Mr Weasley.”

He leaned in, eyes fixed on hers, his blood on fire as his hands subtly squeezed her waist. “Are you telling me you don't want more of what happened earlier?”

Her hands gripped his forearms, her eyes darkening as her chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. It was fascinating to watch, and so very arousing. That delicate pink blush stained her cheeks again, and her lips parted so invitingly that he was barely hanging on to his restraint. How many nights had he lain awake fantasising about her looking at him in this way? He’d lost count.

The music started up again, and her hands slid up to his shoulders as they began to move. Her eyes never left his, and when he twirled her around, their fingers sliding against each other’s as he held their hands above their heads, she immediately locked gazes with him again when he pulled her in close. She had not spoken again, merely choosing to dance as the tension slowly built between them.

His hand splayed out against the small of her back, fingertips grazing the waistband of her trousers as her hips moved with the music. Slowly, the other dancers were beginning to fade out. The pub was packed full, and yet it felt like it was only them in the room. Leaning in, his head next to hers, he felt the tickle of her hair against his cheek. The floral tones of her perfume were intoxicating, his eyes drawn to the graceful curve of her neck, the smooth skin just begging to be kissed.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to kiss you,” he said. “Everyone else be damned.”

“Then I guess you had better get me out of here,” she murmured softly.

His heart hammered against his ribs, her eyes deep pools of longing that promised to drown him. “Meet me outside, across the street from the entrance. Five minutes.”

She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Garreth shifted back, lifting his arm to twirl her once more before pausing to bend and press a kiss to the back of her hand in a polite, courtly bow. He lifted his eyes to hers, his gaze loaded with the promise of their meeting.

With one last longing look, he let her hand go and left her. He needed to find Sebastian and make his excuses. It was time to get out of here.

….*....

She was breathing far too fast, the air in the pub suddenly very hot as she pushed her way through people towards where she had left Poppy. It wasn’t panic that was making her chest thud wildly. It was anticipation. Her blood thrummed with it as she arrived beside Poppy, and her cheeks flushed.

“Will you be alright if I leave?” MC asked, pressing her hands to her cheeks in an effort to cool them. “I’m going to call it a night and head back.”

Poppy grabbed her arm and pulled her into a quieter corner, her lips twisting up into a smirk. “Please tell me it’s because you’re leaving with Garreth.”

“Whatever do you mean?” MC moved her hand to her forehead, trying and failing to look innocent.

“Pfft, are you kidding me?” Poppy chuckled. “I genuinely thought he was going to kiss you on that dance floor. You could barely take your eyes off each other. And now, you're in a hurry to get out of here. Come on, you're not fooling me.”

MC winced. “So much for being discreet,” she groaned. “Okay, yes. I'm leaving with Garreth.”

Poppy gasped, grabbing her hands as a huge smile split her face. “I knew it! Sebastian has not outright said anything, but I am not silly. Garreth is on your kiss list, isn't he?”

MC felt the heat scorch her neck and bloom on her cheeks. She nodded, biting down on her lower lip. “I want to kiss every freckle he has,” she confessed. “All of them. Every single one.”

Poppy squealed in excitement and hugged MC, practically jumping up and down. MC hugged her back, a little relieved to have finally admitted it out loud to someone. There was still the nagging doubt, though.

“Does this make me a bad person?” She asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I mean, is it too soon after Oscar?”

Despite seeing Oscar getting cosy with Trixie at the bar, that nagging guilt still plagued her. Telling herself that she didn't care what he did now, she tried to forget the image of him touching Trixie on the arm. She would be lying if she said it didn't sting a bit. Her gut feeling had been right all along. It wasn't meant to be.

Oscar seemed able to move on, which meant she should be free to do the same. Garreth was waiting for her. All she had to do was reach out and take what her heart craved.

Poppy's smile faded slightly, and she took hold of MC's hands again. “Does it feel wrong to be with Garreth?”

“No,” MC shook her head immediately. “It feels right and has done for a while. I just didn't want to hurt Oscar more than I already have.”

“Oscar is a big boy. He will be just fine,” Poppy said, patting her hands. “You weren't together that long, and it wasn't too serious. We're young, MC. We are discovering ourselves and what we want, and that's okay. You need to do what feels right for you, and if that means you leave here with Garreth tonight, then you go for it.”

MC swallowed against the tightness in her throat, squeezing Poppy’s hands gratefully. “I love you, Poppy.”

Poppy smiled. “I love you, too.”

Poppy's eyes then lit up mischievously, and she opened her little bag, digging deep before pulling out a small vial of potion. She slipped it discreetly into MC’s hand. “Take this with you. Just in case.”

“What is it?” MC opened her hand to take a look at the pale, pink potion. Poppy covered her hand back over it with a smirk.

“Let's just say you will need it if things get particularly hot and interesting between you and Garreth,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling. “It will stop you cooking up a little Weasley.”

“Poppy!” MC gaped, her whole body flushing as she clutched the little vial to her stomach, glancing quickly around them. “For Merlin's sake! Where did you get this?”

Poppy smirked. “It's sensible to be prepared, MC. Sebastian and I took precautions and made sure to have a ready supply, as should you, if you want to take the next step. Even if you don't use it tonight, keep it on you. Make sure you drink it the same day you let him take you. It should cover you for 24 hours.”

MC felt a rush of heat, titillated at the feel of the potion in her grasp, a sensual throb pulsing between her thighs at the thought of Garreth taking her. She smoothed her thumb over the vial and then slipped it into her pocket, taking a steadying breath.

“Thank you,” she said, nodding.

“Go on,” Poppy said, nodding towards the door. “I will cover for you like you did for me, so don't worry about coming back to the dormitory tonight. If you want to stay with him, then stay. Even if you just sleep. Be happy, MC. You deserve it.”

With one more quick hug, MC left Poppy in the Three Broomsticks, heading out into the cold, night air to meet with Garreth. Her pulse fluttered in anticipation as she hurried across the cobbles to where Garreth was waiting against a stone wall.

He held his hands out towards her, and she took them, letting him pull her close against the lean warmth of his body.

“It's not quite midnight,” he said, his arms circling her waist. She put her arms around his neck, fingers curling into the soft locks of his hair. “That means it's still my birthday. I was thinking, how about another one of your amazing hugs? Maybe it will be even better than this afternoon.”

Pressing herself up against him, MC smiled before touching her lips to his. She felt the excitement, the heat that stirred deep within her, and she didn't doubt it at all. This is where she wanted to be. “Take me to your dormitory, and I will see what I can do.”

She heard his breath catch, his darkening green eyes staring intently into hers.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, that feeling of safety that came from being in his arms only proving just how sure she was.

“I just want to be with you,” she said softly. She brushed the wavy strands of his hair back from his forehead, savouring the feel of it sliding through her fingers. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay,” he smiled. He held her tightly. “Hold on to me and relax, MC. I will get us to the gates of Hogwarts.”

MC clung to him, her head against his shoulder as she felt the thick swirl of his magic envelope them, and Hogsmeade vanished in a dizzying spin of black as he Apparated them away.

To be continued....

[bountydroid]

Butterbeers and Soft Smiles

The long-awaited part 2!

Aesop Sharp x Professor!reader

Description: There is a new Muggle Studies Professor at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her bubbly personality was nearly the opposite of Sharp's own, but little did he know, she has a soft spot for men like him.

Part 1

Notes:

Y/l/n = your last name

Y/n backed off a bit after Aesop got her flowers, content with her progress with him. She exchanged niceties in the hallways and made conversation with him at mealtime but stopped seeking him out. This wasn't because she lost interest in him, but because of the advice of her dear friend Mirabel.

"He is a loner; you'll burn him out. Try and give him some space so you don't mess this up." Mirabel explained during one of their late-night gossip sessions.

So that is what she did.

Unfortunately, Professor Sharp had yet to learn what to make of this new behavior. Did she not like the flowers? Did he do something wrong? He pondered every free chance he got. He decided to focus on his students to distract himself from his worries.

After a few weeks of quiet, he finally had enough. At the end of the day, after classes had finished, he made his way to her office.

He cleared his throat as she looked up at the man in her doorway" "Ms. Y/l/n." He shifted nervously when they made eye contact.

"Mr. Sharp!" She exclaimed excitedly, smiling from ear to ear. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

Her excitement settled his nerves a bit. "So I didn't do something wrong." He thought to himself as they stared at each other in silence.

"I was just thinking about you." She says, causing Aesop to blush. "Would you like to get a butterbeer with me tonight?"

"I guess I have time." He stutters out, trying to hide his excitement.

Y/n smiled deviously at the sight before her. Obviously, her feelings were reciprocated, and she couldn't be happier at this revelation.

-

Y/n made her way into Hogsmeade with Sharp limping close behind her as they search for an open table.

"What can I get you?" Sirona smiled as she looked between the two.

"Two butterbeers." His voice rumbles as he orders for them both.

Y/n can't help but smile at him. He's getting bolder.

After a few butterbeers, Aesop starts to loosen up, laughing with Y/n as they talk about the troublesome Weasley boy. "I am hard on him, but I have to say he is creative!" He laughs as he takes another sip.

"You should see him in my class! He can't sit still! At least he can be active during potions." Y/n retorts, taking in the sight before her.

"I think I may have hit my limit," Sharp says as he stares at the bottom of his flagon.

"Right." She responds, sounding slightly deflated. "Let's do this again next week?"

"I would like that." Aesop bushes as he smiles at her.

Before he can get up, she reaches across the table to put her hand on his. "I really enjoyed myself today, Aesop." She whispers, looking deeply into his eyes.

He pauses for a second, surprised at the sudden contact. Before he has the chance to respond, Y/n stands up from the table, pulling him up with her.

"I enjoyed myself too. I haven't had this much fun in a while." He says as he takes her other hand in his, eyes flickering to her lips.

"You can kiss me." She whispers boldly. "'I'd like you to kiss me."

His mouth opens slightly in surprise at her fearlessness. He freezes. It has been a long time since he has kissed someone.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Y/n says, sensing his internal struggle.

"I do want to." He whispers, shifting his feet side to side nervously, eyes staring into hers.

At his confirmation, she quickly pecks his lips, not wanting to push him.

Aesop puts his hand on her cheek for a moment before he pulls her back in and deepens the kiss. Y/n can't help but smile against him.

She can't wait to see what the future holds for them.

tag list: @mothgirl-is-tired @dontbethatguy20

[shy-urban-hobbit]

21 with Lambden from the touch list, i need more Lambert getting hugged from behind, if you want to! <3

This one went a little angstier than I intended!!!

CW for child death.

Lambert placed his last blade in its holster after checking them all over - again. Try as he might, he just couldn't get his brain to stop and he was pretty sure the infernal organ was doing it purely out of spite at this point.

His thoughts just refused to quieten down, running around his head like panicked rabbits and making him extremely irritable. It wasn't the first time - there was a reason he had a reputation for having a rather short fuse - and he was loath to admit that Eskel and Aiden might be right when they said it was because he cared too much. He got angry when one of his experiments failed, angry when his loved ones got threatened or hurt and downright furious on behalf of the little boy he'd been and all those alongside him who were long since dead. Right now they weren't the children at the forefront of his mind though. Everything was revolving around the tiny little thing who had peered up at him from behind her father's legs - her twin sister having been snatched days ago by a bruxa. Her, they'd managed to dispatch no problem, the girl however....she was gone long before they'd arrived, half turned and half mad with it. Aiden had had to be the one to deliver the killing blow after Lambert hesitated a little too long and got a bite to the arm for his trouble. Her father had wept but placed no blame on them, claiming he already knew in his soul what had befallen his daughter after so long, but even false hope had been better than none at all.

He heard the other approach him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and draping his body across Lambert's back as he knelt behind him, "I can hear you overthinking." Aiden said, hooking his chin on Lambert's shoulder.

Lambert gave a mulish hum in response.

"The girl again." Aiden sighed, tightening his grip slightly, "You can't keep torturing yourself with 'what ifs' pup, you haven't rested properly in almost a week. There's nothing we could have done differently."

"We don't know that." Lambert snapped, "Maybe if we hadn't lingered on the road we would have reached the town sooner, if we'd found where that fucking thing was hiding quicker."

"Oh, so Wolf mutagens come with clairvoyance now?" Aiden asked in the no nonsense tone he used when he wanted Lambert to listen rather than actually provide an answer, " We could have done all that and the outcome would still be the same if the bruxa had struck a week, even a day earlier than they did."

"... doesn't it ever bother you?"

"Of course it does, you think I'm not haunted by the ones I couldn't save? I can't do anything to change that, but what I can do is make sure I'm fit and ready for the next one. Something which you are not doing by letting it eat away at you."

Lambert tensed but made no move to try and pull away as Aiden gently grasped his chin, turning his face towards him.

"Lambert, you're going to be no good to the next child you can save, or me, if you go into the fight exhausted. Try and meditate for awhile at least. For them if not for me?"

Lambert threw him an unimpressed look, "Dirty trick, Aiden."

"Is it working?"

It actually was. Now that he'd been given permission he hadn't realised he'd been seeking he felt himself relaxing against the other in increments. He made a small noise of protest and grabbed at one of Aiden's hands when he felt the other shift.

"Not going anywhere, just making us more comfortable."

Lambert let Aiden manhandle him until he was sat between the others spread legs, fully reclined against Aiden's front, who had one arm wrapped around Lambert's chest as he made himself comfortable with his back against the tree Lambert had first situated himself by. He slipped further out of meditation and into true sleep as the sounds of Aiden's breathing and heartbeat - the sounds of Aiden just being alive - coupled with the Cat's free hand cradling his face to run fingers through the hair at his temple caused his thoughts to - for now at least - quieten down one by one.

[sorcerous-caress]

Reflection | Minthara - Gale

[Smut, angst, drama, fluff, cheating, nb!reader]

[Reader cheats on Gale with Minthara, both know.]

It should bother you, shouldn't it?

Unfaithfulness wasn't something to pride yourself on. But you've never tasted anything sweeter before. It was so inviting to indulge in. How could you ever resist your wandering eyes.

The subtle curl of her lips when she sees you, the lingering scent of her body soap whenever the two of you happen to bathe at the same time after a day full of ruthless battles.

The longing look she gives you when you offer to help wash her hair, those sighs of pleasure escaping her lips as she leans into your skilful fingers, messaging at her scalp.

How soft her hair is, white strands with grey undertones smoothly gliding through your fingers.

Her offer to help you with your back afterwards, the way you hide your lower body inside the river of water from her wandering gaze. Thighs rubbing together underneath the stream as you feel her hands on your bare skin.

But it doesn't bother you, not in the slightest. 

Maybe that's what's eating you up at night, how bothered you are by your lack of care towards it.

You like Gale, you really do, he is a very sweet and nice guy. You were the one who convinced him to stay after all, at that same camp celebration long ago.

You could come up with excuses, an endless list of justifications for your sudden change of heart.

He is too power-hungry, or he talks about Mystra too much. Maybe it's the fact he still wore her matching earring or the fact he still spoke of her with great reverence and admiration despite her heartless demand for his life in exchange for her forgiveness.

Or maybe the fact that despite his words, you can see how rushed he is to commit to this relationship.

As if you can even call it a relationship, a courtship might be the best term to describe it. Even with Gale's added requirement of complete monogamy during your said courtship.

Your companions respected that, some begrudgingly with snide comments about what's the point of a courtship if you're going to be exclusive from the start, others with more heartfelt comments that wished you the best on your road onward.

It reminded you too much of the comments strangers would tell a newly wed couple.

To say it was suffocating would be an understatement. You didn't realise just how much Gale expected of you when you agreed to this.

Whenever you'd tell him that, sugarcoating your worries the best you could at how fast he was rushing the both of you into a fully committed relationship, he'd simply brush your concerns off.

You barely knew the guy, and he was acting as if the two of you were to be wed the second you stepped foot into Baldur's Gate.

Well, at least someone in camp did share your thoughts. Completely understanding your point of view.

"The wizard's ego blinds him to reality, very typical of his kind." Minthara would tell you as you seeked comfort in her company, too fed up with Gale after another attempt at getting him to lay off a bit.

"He says he loves me, but I'm not sure what is there for him to love when he barely knows me." It tasted sour in your mouth to admit out loud, as if you should be grateful for getting love in the first place.

"What I want to know is why are you so keen on entertaining his delusions?" Her raspy voice resonated with you, for such a voice with a dangerous edge, it never failed to put you in a trance of peace.

You looked up at the night sky, the real night sky with all of its flaws and endless darkness. Very unlike the beautiful magical stars filled skies Gale could make appear with a snap of his fingers, the illusions he so effortlessly covered every blemish of nature with.

"What else do you suggest?" When you lowered your gaze, you were met with her eyes. She was admiring you as you admired the moon.

"If the wizard is inadequate at satisfying you, then you should seek your own fulfilment with another." Minthara's fingers gripped your chin, turning your face fully towards her.

"As if Gale would allow such-"

"He's a male. You do not ask for an allowance from such creatures." She interrupted you with a firm tone, frowning with disapproval "If anything he should be grovelling at your feet for failing at his only purpose, I've seen mistresses behead their husbands for much less offences."

You sigh, "this isn't the underdark, Minthara."

"Yes." There's clear disappointment in her tone, a hint of longing. "Things would have been very different if it was." Her fingers slowly move from your face, lower and lower as they graze your neck. Fingertips pressing at the left side, right where her own tattoo is.

-

Those words echoed through your brain for the next few days, the promise of how different things would be, still could be.

On the surface, Gale and you grew more and more closer to each other. Dinner dates with home cooked meals, stargazing and his seemingly endless source of love poems. 

But on the inside, your hearts couldn't have been further apart. You felt unheard, your needs and preference ignored for the sake of living the true classical romantic dream he so longed for.

The mortal exclusive romantic things you couldn't do with a goddess.

Sometimes you even felt like this was a downgrade from your previous friendship before, at least then he saw you as a whole capable person and shared his own magic theories to you, seeking your wisdom or knowledge. Even if you weren't versed in magic, he'd still appreciate the perspective from an outsider.

Yet these days, you're only his partner. Not the person he confides and jokes with, not the person he has light-hearted conversations with. But just a romantic partner that he gets to live a romantic fantasy with. 

Who is he trying to impress? It certainly wasn't you. Was he just trying to prove something to himself? To prove that he is still capable of something long gone? To prove to the universe that he still knows how to love. 

That his decision to stay after sneering at you about how much of a bad influence you are to him at that celebration was a good choice because he ended up with true love. Love justifies all reasons.

And just like he used you as a shield to take the blame from his own conscience that celebration night, telling you it was your fault for the actions that he himself did on his own will, he is using your love as an excuse to justify the horrors he might commit later on.

He's been talking about the crown of karsus a lot. Not to you of course, not anymore. But to Wyll, Shadowheart, even Astarion. 

When his newfound habits started to bleed outside of the camp and into your battles, that's when you had enough.

"I told you not to attack them, Gale. What were you thinking?" Venom filled your voice, you had set a very clear plan for Astarion to always initiate the fights, that way you could take 2 or 3 of them down before they'd realise you were even there.

Too busy tending to their wounds, your other companions left you and Gale to bicker it out.

It was infuriating, he was infuriating. 

That day ended sourly, Shadowheart's healing could only stretch so far before everyone had to retreat to camp. 

"Just give me a moment." Gale interrupted you at camp that night, "I am fully aware of how reckless my earlier actions were."

You didn't want to look at his face. You couldn't stomach it. With a sigh, you crossed your arms as you finally faced him.

"You're usually smarter than that." He was one of the last people you'd ever expect this behaviour from. 

"I admit, and I'm willing to apologise for my mistake." Sitting down next to you near the campfire, with shame in his voice, he said, "...i was trying to prove myself...to you."

The campfire flame danced against the shadows, its inviting warmth like a blanket over the two of you. 

He continued, "I've wanted to show that I'm still a very capable wizard…but my magic failed and backfired on me when I needed it the most."

You didn't know what to say. Only staring into his deep brown eyes, attempting to peer into his soul through them, and read his intentions as if it was possible to do. 

Well, the parasite did make it more than possible to do. You felt it move in the back of your brain, pulsing and itching at the chance to connect to its sister.

A frown looked very unfamiliar on Gale's face, one you got so used to seeing brimming with happiness. The subtlest of blush that used to adorn it now lacking in colour, the purplish orb veins seemed even more prominent than before.

Rejecting the call of authority, you let Gale's lips speak their own truth instead.

"You should've still told me, at least." Anger faded from your voice, "we are a team. We are supposed to fight together."

"Within reason, yes that would've been the best solution." Gale smiled, a sour pained smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But that's not what you're attracted to, is it?"

For a second, you were frozen, unexpectedly put on the spot. You thought about denying it, his claims. But you knew it'd only be an insult to both your intelligence at this point.

"What makes you think that?" You played it safe, digging for more information before admitting to anything vindictive.

His hand caressed yours, slowly moving over to hold it.

"I know you." He spoke confidentially, "even better than you know yourself." 

Your mind raced. He couldn't possibly have known all along.

"I see how you look at her" his fingers intertwined with yours, your own hand sweaty and limp against his firm grasp. "It makes me green with envy how you openly lust after another while in my embrace."

As if you were suddenly pulled from the warmth of the campfire and drenched into freezing cold water. 

"I can be powerful too." Gale whispered against your ear with tenderness, "even if I'm not a knight in shining armour, say the world and I'll conjure a never ending storm of fire hurricanes for you."

He is choosing to stay despite knowing the truth. Each day, he woke up and chose you, to get stronger for you.

Guilt seeped through the cracked walls you've built around your heart.

"It's not your fault, I don't blame you one bit." His words just made the needles at your throat twist deeper, "These…sinister urges inside you are to blame, they attract you to her power like a moth to the flame."

He has the same look on his face, the same sneer he directed towards you that night at the celebration. The same burning hatred and disgust, except this time it's not at you directed at you, but an imaginary parasite controlling your brain.

You've been quiet for a while now, letting him speak. Feeling his touches getting bolder and bolder as he got even closer to you.

"I can show the correct path, the right way." His lips were so close to yours, yet you couldn't take your eyes off of his. The flames of fire reflect off of them and shadow the previous lovely brown. "I can make sure there never is a repeat of the horror that happened at the grove."

With his body so close to yours, you could feel the subtle gravitational pull of the orb in his chest. Checking you for any traces of magic that it could seep into its endless abyss, only to be silenced immediately but Gale's own weave.

Gale's eyes locked into your lips, he swallowed. "Don't you want to be fixed?"

You pulled back from the kiss before it could even happen. Forcing his attention back to you.

As he looked at you, it wasn't your own image that reflected on his deep brown eyes. It wasn't your own self that his soul was mirroring. As if the current you was a mere stepping stone between him and the perfectly sculpted version of you that awaited in the future.

Confusion was clear on his face, like a sad puppy not sure of what it had done wrong. You closed off yourself again and pulled away from his embrace.

You didn't look back at him. You walked away.

Reaching your own tent, you parted the curtains only to be greeted with a flowery scent. There laid on your bedroll a careful and delicate arrangement of various flowers in bloom, traces of enchantment sparkled against the soft petals.

Picking up the bouquet, a card fell from against your feet.

' Your beloved - G.D. '

They have been here for a long while, their smell overwhelmed everything else in your tent, and even your own bed wasn't spared from the all-consuming enchantment. Leaving the flowers outside did nothing to lessen the smell. If anything, it somehow made it spread even further.

Your stomach twisted. It's chokingly sweet.

With the bouquet in hand, you abandoned your own tent. You kept walking until you reached the edge of the camp. Far in a secluded corner where luminescent mushrooms and plants faded away the darkness.

A familiar earthly scent washed over you. 

Minthara looked pleased to see you, "you're here." She said as a matter of fact, as if she was expecting your arrival. "Good."

She didn't ask about the flowers, she barely acknowledged them as she took your hands into her own. 

She let you in her tent. You didn't even have to ask. The way she parted the curtains and waited for you to go inside, a silent order. Obey her.

And of course you did, ever since that time you tasted her, when she also tasted you, you couldn't even dream of disobeying her commands.

Sometimes you wonder how different things might have been if she had just stayed. How a lot of the current mess could've been avoided, if she had just joined you instead of marching onto moonrise towers alone.

Another part of you dreads what could've happened if you had arrived there far too late, her fate sealed before you could even step a foot inside the tower.

You feel her heat behind your back, her body pressing close into yours. She is warm and brimming with life, not the dead cold corpse laying on the cell's floor that you see in your nightmares.

Her arms wrap around your waist, her nose pressing against the pulse point on your neck. She is listening to your heartbeat.

Does she also think about the night you shared together? Does she remember your moans mixing with hers through the quiet silence of the night. The moonlight illuminating your naked figures above the broken stone altar. 

"Give yourself to me," She whispers, voice full of promises untold, "what we share is much more than anything that anyone else could offer you." 

Her hands grip your thighs, the same way she gripped them that night. A shiver runs up your spine at the memory of her hot mouth on you, heat pooling between your legs.

You make your decision as she lays you down on the bed. The sheer hunger in her eyes made you feel the more helpless in her web, each possessive touch and lasting bite made you melt more into her grasp.

She wanted you to depend on her for pleasure. On her touches and her mouth, on the way she lifts your thighs above her shoulders and places you in a very vulnerable position. 

She liked to feel in control, and you obediently gave up all of your control to her. 

Even as her own wetness dripped down her thighs, her sole focus remained on you and your pleasure. As if the view of you slowly losing yourself to lust was enough to get her off. 

It's not like you could reach over and give her release, not with your hands bound above your head. The small piece of fabric restricting your movement seemed to give Minthara a rush of power and pride, evident in various marks she adorned your neck and chest with.

Thighs and hips, too. She made her ownership known over your body. As if it didn't already belong to her from the way she managed to push you over the edge twice already, while she barely grinded herself against you.

It was almost as if she was worshipping you. Her admiration was clear behind the various veils of lust and power.

Admiration for you, the whole of you as you are. Your reflection in her eyes was purely your own.

You moaned her name like a prayer throughout the night, without shame or regard for who might hear. It drove her wild, her own release coursing through her wave after wave as sweat glistened against her skin. You couldn't look away, couldn't tear your eyes away from the glorious sight of Minthara at the peak of her orgasm. 

At that moment, you could only think about how you've  never seen anything more beautiful in your life.

In the aftermath, when the sun rays filtered through the outside of the tent, you held each other closely. 

Her head on your chest, rising and falling rhythmically with your breathing. Minthara's arms wrapping around your waist and anchoring herself to you.

Your fingers weaved through her hair, parting the silvery strands to place the flowers. The bouquet laid on the ground, half empty next to the bed.

Minthara didn't seem to mind. She indulged you as you crowned her hair with soft, colourful petals. Although the flowers kept slipping off and pooling around her pointy ears.

Maybe you should braid it into her hair instead, use the leftover flowers from the bouquet in the morning.

You don't remember when you fell asleep, only the comforting darkness that you invited when you closed your eyes for a second.

[dahliaduvide]

I've been digging into the life of Jeremy Wade Delle, beyond just the day of his death that is immortalized in the Pearl Jam song we all know so well.

One thing Jeremy Delle and I have in common is that we both spent time in a psych hospital in our teenage years. We both ended up in adolescent wards of large chain hospitals. My experience wasn't completely negative, but I don't think it helped anyone but my mother.

Jeremy Delle was hospitalized in April of 1990 after what is believed to have been his first suicide attempt.

His parents put him in Timberlawn Psychiatric Hospital where he started seeing a doctor that continued to treat him until his death by suicide on January 8, 1991. He actually had completed a session with his doctor the afternoon before he died.

The redacted police report gives only a small amount of information about the doctor that Jeremy Delle was seeing. His name is given as Dr. Bob H####, and as Dr. Robert H#### on a card that the police found in Mr. Delle's wallet. This card lists two phone numbers for the doctor. The first if the general number for the Timberlawn facility, but the other number is likely a direct line to the doctor's office.

The information given in the July 1990 list of hospitals printed in D Magazine, a local Dallas publication, about Timberlawn is "4600 Samuell Blvd, Dallas. 381-7181. Psychiatric hospital; 232 beds; offers chemical dependency treatment, occupational therapy, and psychiatric unit". That's the same as the first phone number listed on the card on Jeremy Delle's wallet card. The second is 381-6327.

Without a last name, I couldn't search for any other mentions of the doctor in public records (and I didn't find anything relevant using the phone number), but there were certainly a few articles about Timberlawn. More than a few, I had to winnow them down to the ones that seemed most relevant to what Jeremy Delle might have experienced during his stay there.

This article from June 1990 explains the sudden growth in the industry in Texas. The financial motivations behind it have very distinct consequences that the article outlines: patients rarely stay longer than their insurance foots the bill.

When the money runs out everyone- adult, teenager, addict, seems to be miraculously cured.

There are several claims of misconduct by care providers throughout the time surrounding Jeremy Delle's stay at Timberlawn.

May 1988: A Dallas woman is admitted to the substance abuse program at Timberlawn. In February 1996, when she is in her early 30s, she alleges misconduct by her doctor during her stay at Timberlawn.

May 1991: In March 1993, a patient alleges he was pursued by his doctor after seeking treatment at Timberlawn for depression after the end of his marriage. He also alleges that she initiated an inappropriate romantic and sexual relationship which lasted from November 1991 to February 1992.

Obviously, Mr. Delle would have been, or at least should have been, housed in separate adolescent areas from any adult patients, but he might have seen the same doctors. Particularly because he was treated for substance abuse. I have some doubts about whether he was actually using any drugs or not, but I'll put that together in another post with some supporting documents.

I also found these court documents from 2009 relating to a patient that was hospitalized in the Timberlawn facility as a minor. She claims to have been raped by an older male patient due to inadequate supervision of the patients by staff and a lack of private space available to patients. No dates or ages are given, however, so it's impossible to know if this happened within the early 90s. However, if Jeremy Delle had survived until 2009 he would have been in his mid-20s, which is when childhood traumas begin to be understood by a maturing mind.

I'm not a lawyer and couldn't even pretend to be one on the internet, so I won't claim to understand anything about what is happening, but I can read through it and capture other facts about who, where, when, etc. If anybody with a better understanding of USA or Texas state law wants to shed some light on this that would be helpful.

I wasn't able to find any further information about the progress or outcomes of these cases, so I've chosen not to include the names of the staff accused, but they are included in the media coverage if anyone would like to search through news databases that aren't freely available online. I can only research the documents I can find, and unfortunately I don't have access to any academic databases at the moment, either.

My personal opinion is that whatever started Jeremy Delle down a troubled path started before he got to Timberlawn and the care of Dr. H.

I do think this line of research is important for understanding whether or not Mr. Delle received effective or adequate care as his mental illness spiraled out of control.

It strikes me that these stories about Timberlawn confirm and debunk some of the conceptions we have about this particular young man's life from the song written about him in 1991 by Eddie Vedder and Jason Ament. Jeremy Wade Delle was failed by everyone in his life with the power to help him as he started to sink under the waves of his illness. But his parents didn't ignore it completely, they tried to get him help. Maybe not when his illness first manifested, but as soon as his first 'cry for help' came in the form of a suicide attempt, they put him in a hospital that was known to be the best in their area. One with a developing, supposedly cutting edge, program for adolescents and those suffering from substance abuse. They most likely brought him home when the hospital said he was better. Sadly that might have had more to do with how long the hospital knew that insurance would foot the bill and not Mr. Delle's actual mental health.

The story is no less tragic than the story Pearl Jam spins in their song, but it's far more nuanced.

And it's still a great song.