#i think i've seen mentions of this being brought up floating around here and there

[dearmahiru]

clasping my hands behind my back as sweat rolls down my face. there were so many harrowing things said in the second trial report⸻dangling haruka's fate like a toy, alluding to mahiru's life⸻but jackalope remarking how kotoko's efficiency of judgement through violence worked makes me feel so sick. genuinely had to take a break from the video for a moment.

not because it's wrong per se, but because wouldn't kotoko herself disagree? she's harped repeatedly how she's not happy the scum criminals have been granted an innocent. it would be such a slap in the face to be commended for her efforts while rotting in her restraints. like, if i was her i'd crash a brick through the window, climb in, and fistfight that rabbit.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

God Only Knows

Everyone knows AU, but Wes doesn't know that everyone knows, and neither does Danny, because even though everyone knows, everyone also knows better than to acknowledge it.

For the prompts:

Everyone knows the connection between Danny Fenton and Phantom. To keep their town's hero safe, everyone pretends to be oblivious. Only this one kid doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. [From @vigilant-insomniac], and It's like Santa, the students of Casper High think. You know he's fake, just your parents playing pretend, and if Danny wants to play human, well. Who are they to ruin the fantasy? [From @uniasus]

This is a take on Wes I've never written before, despite having written quite a few Wes fics, and it was a lot of fun, I hope you like it : )

Read also on AO3

[Warnings for mentioned injuries, threats, and implied bullying]

Danny Fenton was dead. Everyone knew that.

After an accident in his parents' lab, he'd been rushed to the hospital and declared dead on arrival. He had an obituary in the paper, a grave. His death had even been announced over Casper High's PA system, and there had been a moment of silence, and all the science classes had done lessons on lab safety so that what had happened to him might not happen to anyone else.

Then, a couple weeks later, Danny Fenton was back at school like nothing had happened. Hanging out with his loser friends, going to classes, eating at Nasty Burger. Like he was still a regular kid. Except that beakers slipped through his fingers, and he kept walking through vending machines, and falling through the floor. Sometimes all or part of him would turn invisible, or he'd start floating a few inches off the floor and his friends had to pull him back down to earth.

Every time, he would look around in a panic, like he was hoping no one saw, and every time, those who had seen pretended they hadn't. It was Santa Claus, the Casper students reasoned. You knew he was fake, just your parents playing pretend, but it made them happy when you pretended with them. If Danny wanted to play human, well... who were they to ruin the fantasy.

Besides, no one wanted to be the one to remind him that he'd died.

Then the school was attacked by a ghost, and another ghost appeared to stop her. It was the ghost of a 14-year-old boy, wearing a Fenton Works jumpsuit. There was no mistaking that Danny Fenton, the dead kid attending their school, was also the dead kid protecting it.

But after a couple of days, it was clear that Danny himself still thought it was a secret, so everyone else silently agreed to let him keep thinking that. He'd been through a lot, and they didn't need to make it harder on him. Even Dash never brought it up—and he kept bullying Danny, for being week and unpopular, just to keep up the illusion that nothing had changed.

When out-of-towners started poking around, asking questions, everyone kept the secret. The strangers were clearly ill-intentioned, wanting to capture Danny for some reward. Even if he was deluding himself about still being alive, Danny was a good kid who protected the town. The least the locals could do as thanks was act oblivious to keep him safe. They were used to pretending, anyway.

Except this one kid didn't seem to have gotten the memo.

"Uh, yeah, I have some information on the ghost!" Wes called out to the Guys in White nosing around their school.

Kwan grabbed him, covering his mouth and dragging him around the corner before the Guys in White could see who'd called out to them. He felt something slimy on the palm of his hand and let go of Wes with a noise of disgust.

"What the hell!" Wes demanded.

"Did you just lick me?" Kwan asked, wiping his hand off on his jeans. "Gross!"

"Dude, you dragged me down the hallway! What gives."

"You were gonna spill to the Guys in White. You can't do that!"

"Just 'cause no one around here believes me, I'm just supposed to give up?" Wes frowned, crossing his skinny, freckled arms over his chest. "Somebody has to know that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom, I mean come on, it's obvious!"

"But if you tell the Guys in White, even if they don't believe you, they'll investigate him, and who knows what they'll do," Kwan pointed out. "Hasn't Danny been through enough? I mean," Kwan glanced around and lowered his voice before adding, "he died. Do you really want to make things harder on him after that? Don't you think he deserves a break?"

"Exactly," Wes hissed. "He died. He's a ghost. Ghosts are bad—and why are we whispering?" he added at a normal volume.

"You know that's not true," Kwan argued, keeping his voice low, despite Wes' complaint. "Phantom protects us."

"From ghosts that come through a portal he opened!"

Kwan flinched. Saying Danny had opened the portal was kind of misrepresenting the reality of the situation. Sam and Tucker had reluctantly told the story of Danny's death in the weeks he was gone, and it had been spread around pretty thoroughly before he came back. Everyone at school knew that he'd stepped into that portal and been completely fried. The portal turning on wasn't the part most people focused on when it was always immediately followed by 'while Danny was inside it'.

"I don't think you can blame him for that," Kwan said. "It was an accident."

"One that has yet to be corrected," Wes replied, his anger not fading. "Him fighting the ghosts doesn't stop them from attacking. If he really wanted to protect the town, he'd destroy the portal and stay in the Ghost Zone."

"What about the Fentons?"

"Who cares if the Fentons lose their precious portal when it's endangering thousands of lives!?"

"And you don't care if they lose their son, either?" Kwan demanded.

"So you do believe me!"

"You're a dick, Weston." He'd never called anyone a dick before in his life, but it seemed to apply here. "I don't care what you think, but if you try to hawk your theories on any of the ghost hunters around town, I'll make you regret it, and I'll bring friends, too. I've got a lot of them."

To drive home his point, Kwan shoved Wes against the lockers and glared before walking away. Gosh, that was so aggressive. Kwan hoped it had been okay. He didn't like doing it—he didn't even know if his face could hold that expression long enough to intimidate anyone—but if it kept Danny safe, that was what mattered.

At least Dash would probably be proud of him for it. Dash was always saying he needed to be more assertive to people couldn't push him around. Metaphorically, of course. Literally, Kwan was six feet tall and 190 pounds, even as a freshman, so there weren't many people who could physically push him around as it was. He didn't join the football team for no reason.

Thankfully, it did seem to work. Kwan had his friends—and he did indeed have a lot of friends, since he was a very friendly and likable guy—keep an eye on Wes until the outside ghost hunters declared the hunt a bust and skipped town. He didn't know whether Wes had noticed or not, but either way, he hadn't tried to expose Danny to them again.

Too bad that didn't last. A few weeks later, Wes went directly to the Fentons.

"No one else will believe me, but your son is a ghost!" Wes told them. "He's Danny Phantom!"

Jack and Maddie both froze. They knew.

They knew, and they had both agreed to pretend they didn't. They shot at Phantom, always aiming a mile wide, and shouted threats, and loudly declared their hatred for ghosts. They knew how it made Danny feel, but they also knew he still loved them. They were willing to do whatever it took to keep their son around, and they feared that if he were ever to tell them he was a ghost, it would be because he was moving on and they'd never see him again.

"Why... that's ridiculous, my boy!" Jack declared, a slight waver in his booming voice. "Our son can't be a ghost!"

"But it's true!" Wes insisted.

"Don't be silly!" Maddie cut him off before he could start listing evidence. She knew all the evidence. "I think we'd know if there was a ghost living under our own roof."

"But—"

"You should keep your utterly ridiculous theories to yourself, because you sound absurd," Maddie said. "Now, if you don't mind, my husband and I have very important ghost hunting to get to. Don't you have homework to do or something?"

Wes growled and clenched his fists in frustration but left them alone nonetheless. Clearly, he wasn't getting anywhere with him. And he wasn't getting anywhere at school, to the point where Danny had stopped getting anxious and had started openly antagonizing him about it. Didn't anyone else in Amity Park have eyes, he wondered.

But in truth, he was the one not seeing, because he didn't see that everyone else was on the same page about Danny being a ghost, and he was the one being left behind.

"Hey, Wes-toenail!"

Wes rolled his eyes as Dash stormed up to him with a disappointed-looking Kwan in tow.

"Jazz Fenton told Sam Manson, who told Kwan, who told me, that you tried to tell Fenton's parents about your stupid conspiracy theory!" Dash sneered at him.

"It's not a conspiracy theory," Wes said. "There would have to be more than just one person involved for it to be a conspiracy theory. A conspiracy theory would be like if I claimed everyone in town was working together to hide the fact that Fenton is Phantom," he was too busy rolling his eyes again to notice the look Kwan and Dash gave each other, "but you're not, you're all just a bunch of sheep."

"And you're a... a..." Dash struggled, grasping around his thick head for a comeback.

"A blackberry bramble!" Kwan finished for him.

"A blackberry bramble!" Dash repeated firmly, then turned to Kwan with a confused look. "A blackberry bramble?" he repeated again, this time questioningly.

"Prickly, invasive, and impossible to get rid of," Kwan explained. "Sam and I also talked about her garden."

"Oh, that's nice," Dash then turned back to Wes, hardened his expression and said. "You're like a blackberry bramble, and no one wants you around."

Wes raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Why do you even care? I thought you hated Fenton."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want him dead again," Dash pointed out. "His parents are ghost hunters, and they're always shooting at Phantom. What do you think they might do to Danny if they actually believed your bullshit theory?"

"Get rid of him! Because he's a ghost! You know, the creatures constantly attacking our town and putting us all in danger?"

"The fact that you actually seem to believe that is why nobody at school likes you," Dash told him plainly. "That, and your general annoyingness."

"Why do you all care so much about protecting a loser like Danny Fenton?!" Wes shouted, loudly enough that it attracted the attention of everyone else in the hallway not already listening, and he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "So he died, so what? It's the fact that he's still around that's the problem. Everyone seems to agree that they want ghosts gone until I bring up Phantom. A ghost is a ghost is a ghost, and all ghosts are dangerous, even the quote-unquote 'good ones.'"

He was breathing heavily when he finished his outburst, and suddenly aware of at least a dozen sets of eyes on him.

"That's enough, Wes," Kwan said after a beat. "Danny hasn't done anything to you, or anyone, and it's not fair for you to keep doing this, trying to expose him or... or whatever it is you're trying to do. You'd better cut it out. If this is a joke, no one's laughing, and if you're serious, then you're trying to take a real person away from his friends and family because of your own biases, and that's messed up, dude."

"Yeah!" someone down the hallway piped up. Micah, Wes thought her name was. She'd spit on his shoes when he tried to convince her of his theory.

"Enough is enough!" her friend agreed.

"You lay off Danny, he's already been through it this year already!"

Soon enough, every student in the hallway was chiming in their agreement, and Wes scanned the crowd, mouth agape, offended and outraged. When he turned back to Dash and Kwan, they both wore hard expressions. It looked weird on Kwan's usually jovial face, but it was clear they meant business.

"Whatever," Wes grumbled. He grabbed his math book out of his locker and slammed the door shut with a metallic bang. "You've made your point. I'll stop."

"Will you actually?" Dash insisted, raising a skeptical brow. "Or are you just saying that to get us off your back?"

"I will," Wes confirmed. "I don't need the entire football team and then some making my life a living hell. As long as Fenton keeps his distance from me, I'll do the same for him."

The warning was passed from Kwan, to Sam, to Danny, and in short order, Danny and Wes started avoiding each other. They barely so much as crossed paths anymore. Wes, begrudgingly, stopped trying to expose Danny, and Danny stopped teasing him for his failures, and it finally seemed like Amity Park's ghostly hero could go on protecting the town in peace.

But things weren't always what they seemed, and one day, there was a fight. At first, it seemed like a standard ghost fight, Danny Phantom versus some vampire-looking asshole.

Based on the banter, it sounded like this wasn't their first encounter with each other, so the civilians of Amity Park tried their best to stay out of the way and let Danny do his thing. Parents calling their kids inside, the group of teens passing by ducked into the alley, the one riding the opposite way on his skateboard crossed the street to hide with them, safety in numbers and all that.

Then the tide of battle turned, and all of the sudden, Danny was losing, badly. The enemy ghost had started coming at him with powerful blasts that broke through his defenses and left him reeling. Danny howled as he hit the street, hard, and in a flash of white light, his appearance changed from hero to dweeb, and regular old Danny Fenton laid unconscious in the road.

"You can never truly best me, Daniel," the enemy ghost said, but he didn't have time to monologue.

The teens in the alleyway had a plan, and they were coming to the rescue.

Sam Manson somersaulted into the street, Fenton Wrist Ray™ already armed and at the ready, and she laid down cover fire at the enemy ghost while Dash and Kwan ran out to grab Danny and drag him to the alleyway where they'd been taking cover.

"Guess you can't tell me I'm crazy now," Wes said, smirking triumphantly as the two jocks put Danny down gently on the ground, propping his head up on Paulina's folded up jacket. "We all saw him turn into Fenton, that's proof."

"Will you shut up, Wes?" Paulina snapped while Star checked Danny over, trying to assess his injuries. "We knew that already."

"What do you mean you knew?"

"Everyone knew, the whole time," Paulina reiterated with a derogatory scowl. "It's like, super obvious."

"Then why did you all treat me like I was crazy?" Wes demanded.

"Because you are," Star said. "Not 'cause you think he's a ghost—because, like, duh—but 'cause you kept trying to tell everyone. Some things should stay secret you moron."

"Why you even wanted to constantly remind the dead kid that he's dead, I'll never know," Paulina added.

"Plus, you constantly trying to expose him was putting him in danger," Kwan said. "Phantom is a hero, and you were trying to get him killed."

"He's already dead!"

"Yeah, we know," Sam jeered at him as she returned to their cover. "Everyone knows. But you're the only person in the whole town who's being a dick about it!"

"Hey, that's the same thing I told him a couple months ago!" Kwan told her, delighted. "I never called someone a dick before, but I did, 'cause he was being one."

"Good job calling him out, Kwan," Sam said, sounding genuinely satisfied. "It's good to hear that you're being more assertive and standing up for yourself and others."

"That's what I said, too!" Dash noted. "God, it's so weird that I actually agree with you on stuff now."

"Can we get back to the fact that you guys all knew the whole time that Fenton was a ghost and nobody thought to clue me in?" Wes said, looking around at the rest of them incredulously.

"Clue you in the Danny was a ghost?" Sam asked sardonically. "I thought you knew."

"No, that it was apparently common knowledge and you all just felt like making a fool out of me!"

"You wouldn't have looked like a fool if you'd just kept your fool mouth shut," Paulina pointed out.

"You—"

Wes was cut off when Danny groaned into wakefulness and everyone's attention instantly snapped to the ghost boy.

"Mn... ugh," Danny took a shaky breath and blinked his eyes open, quickly widening in shock when he realized how many people were leaning over him. "Uh... hello, citizens," he said, putting on a voice in the hopes they wouldn't recognize them. "Please, step back and stay away from the—"

"Danny," Sam said, "You changed."

"Huh?" He looked down at his hand and gasped. "I mean, I have an explanation for this. I was uh... being overshadowed?"

"It's okay, dude," Kwan told him. "We're not going to tell anyone. This'll be our little secret. Right, Wes?"

They all looked pointedly at the redhead, who opened his mouth to protest, and closed it again, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Yeah, okay," he relented, though his left eyebrow was nevertheless twitching in irritation. "Our secret."

"We just wanted to get you out of the line of fire before Plasmius took things too far," Sam told him. "You know I've always got your back."

"Thanks," Danny said. "All of you."

They gave him their smiles and their 'you're welcome's while Wes griped and grumbled and left the alleyway with his bike to finish riding home. Plasmius had flown off shortly after Sam started shooting at him. He was content in his victory over Phantom, and didn't feel the need to fight a powerless child like her, so the coast was clear for the rest of them to leave as well.

Sam said goodbye to Kwan so she could walk Danny home while the rest of them resumed their walk to the mall. Sam had been planning to split off before they got their anyway, she was just taking the opportunity to chat with them—mostly Kwan, whom she'd accidentally befriended during Danny's brief stint of popularity earlier in the year (his 'goth' poetry was awful, but they'd bonded over gardening and a love of animals)—since her house was on the way.

"You gonna be okay, Danny?" she asked, as they walked arm in arm so she could catch him if he stumbled. "You don't have a concussion, do you?"

"Maybe?" Danny said, squinting uncertainly. He shrugged. "I'll be fine. I always am. I'm still just amazed how lucky it was that the A-listers and Wes, of all people, were willing to keep my secret. It's gonna be all over the school, tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sam said vaguely. "Kwan's a decent guy, at least. I'm pretty sure they'll keep their word."

Danny scoffed in disbelief, but didn't voice an argument. The rest of the way to Fenton Works, the chattered about whatever topics came to mind, just to keep Danny from falling asleep in case he did have a concussion, and when Sam dropped him off at home, she held off her mournful expression until she had turned away so Danny didn't have to see it.

[tree-obsession]

2.2 SPOILERS!! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK

this is a small lore discussion! mostly speculation and theories- i have not seen leaks about 2.3 plot yet, but i have seen a couple about boothill's character stories, so please keep that in mind!

trigger for mentions of suicide(aventurine) and mega corps(the ipc)

we have to talk about the ending cutscene with aventurine and boothill more! i'll start with my fav parts that no one really has brought up yet:

Aventurine intimidating Boothill after mentioning the guards are out- Boothill sounded so offput and hasty while reassuring him they were just knocked out, and we have to talk about aventurine himself just being intimidating more honestly his glare actually did kind of scare me.

Boothill pointing a gun at aventurine was. well. i'm sorry i did actually laugh at that. boothill i think you should research your targets a bit more honestly that guy is NOT afraid of guns. he fully walked into the nihility and pointed at least one gun at himself, and just got out of his own meticulously-planned suicide. threats of death won't work, sorry. also he has good reason to hate oswaldo schneider as well- threats didn't even have to be used, probably! he would kill him too, probably(revenge arc go go go!!)

the convo between aven and jade was. yeah. why he's betting his life again, i don't know (maybe sarcasm? or it was really just banter?) but it does seem like the two of them aren't super close at all, at least from what little i could gather. also if diamond hurts aventurine the entire fandom will kick his ass, emanator or no, so he better be prepared for that too lol. also, it was a pretty common theory aventurine would leave the ipc after exiting nihility, since acheron presumably broke his ties- i wonder why he went back? perhaps he had no plans as to where to go, or he has some ulterior motive?

how did he get out of nihility so unscathed? (for context, i haven't gotten aven's text messages yet, but i'm aware of some of their contents since they've been floating around w/out spoiler tags. the messages are mentioned a bit here if you wanna avoid spoilering!) i know argenti got him out, but 1) why was argenti there, or where did he even find him? and 2) that seems so random- both argenti and jade confirmed it, but plot-wise what's even the point of argenti pulling him out? also argenti said he was in a "woeful state" when he got out, and apparently the stonehearts are willing to give aven a break (which i'm assuming is major, since stonehearts are super important and have a lot of responsibility, plus he just destroyed a cornerstone) so him already being back on his feet when we see the phone call is a bit weird right away. he doesn't even sound sick, and ratio or any other doctor is nowhere in sight! (message spoilers start here) i'm aware the aventurine cornerstone was fully shattered/destroyed while protecting him from nihility- was he really in there for who-knows-how-long without any protection at all? he's apparently having nightmares and the ipc needed to call in a doctor of chaos to treat him, which is concerning considering his mental health and general will to live were extremely low even before walking into the nihility. like he genuinely has some of the worst will to live i've ever seen in a character or human being- walking through the nihility should have utterly destroyed him mentally and physically, but it didn't. 2.3 HAS to give us a whole lotta context, especially with nihility lore (my favorite aeon, i may be biased) and more about the ipc!

anyway, thank you for reading this poorly formatted, stream-of-consciousness word vomit about 2.2's aventurine lore. hope you liked it! drop ur thoughts in replies and reblogs plz they give me life(although i will be very busy next few weeks, so please don't be offended if you want a reply and don't get it, im so sorry!)

2.2 was peak- a bit slow, but the story was some of the best, if not the best stuff hoyo has given us in terms of writing quality. so great! i cried for sure, and that boss battle was just everything- especially the music. robin my lesbian queen if i didn't have to pull for firefly i would get your lightcone for sure...

see you all next time! thx for sticking around (:

[lizardthelizard]

what fan theories are you thinking of for the appreciation week? 👀👀👀

Omg hi <3 <3 <3 Always a pleasure to see you in my inbox, thank you for the ask :)

Okay, okay so.

So far, I have three theories floating around in my mind. I joined the OUAT a little too late to actually see any of them first hand at the time, but they're SO much fun to read up on and explore even long after the show has ended.

Fan theory 1) is that the Blue Fairy was secretly the Big Bad of the show and would be revealed to be the main villain of the series. Or, at the very least, she was more villainous than she appeared to be on the surface. 'Shady Blue' is such a fun fan theory that I still see people talking about now.

I absolutely don't think the writers were secretly plotting for her to be the real villain of the story (though I'm not as well versed with OUAT lore as some others so anyone is welcome to give me evidence to the contrary. (and I know that Keegan Connor Tracy that played Blue joked about it/leaned into it )). However, the 'evidence' in canon that might suggest that Blue was darker than she seems can be...compelling.

Her harshness with Tinker Bell, the fact that Pinocchio becoming real very much had strings attached, the way she treated Nova and Dreamy...there are these little things that make her come across as (for lack of a better word) kind of a bitch.

But there are also more fascinating moments and details that people have brought up before! The fact that she's literally one of the oldest characters on the show. The way that Morraine, when talking with a young Baelfire, describes her as 'an ancient being that rules the night. The original power.' The fact that, when Cora tried to disguise herself as Blue, she was able to convince a young Snow that the Blue Fairy would ever be capable of encouraging murder.

Blue is a weird character. I have a personal vendetta against her (for Pinocchio related reasons) but she does have fascinating potential and if the writers had been able to pull this off, it might have been epic.

Theory 2 is the 'Dr. Whale is the Wizard of Oz' theory. This is a fan theory that I adore, although I haven't spent that much time researching it. Before the Frankenstein reveal, Whale was free real estate. And the Wizard of Oz theory just made so much SENSE imo. It fit the mystery of his character and the overall vibe and it was a hugely fun theory.

It also spawned a whole host of ideas about other characters playing the roles of characters from the Wizard of Oz (I believe I've seen Rumple mentioned as the Cowardly Lion, Graham mentioned as the Tin Man (since he literally has no heart) and Jefferson as the Scarecrow. But I'm sure I've also seen other variations on each character too.

Also, everyone kept joking about him being the 'whale' from Pinocchio but let's not talk about that theory

Theory 3) is about who August W. Booth was, and whether or not he was the Author of the book.

It's a theory that makes sense. He's a writer, he was adding pages to the book, his name (Wayne Booth) is a direct reference to the man that coined the term 'unreliable narrator'. It feels like the writers were purposefully leading fandom towards this conclusion so that the Pinocchio reveal would be even more of a surprise.

Anyway, it's an interesting theory to explore, although it's probably my least favourite on the list here. I think that his Pinocchio backstory has way more to play with and a much better depth of flavour, but the 'author' theory is still intriguing to ponder over.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I love that there is more than one person in the world who can say "Always been fascinated with Cowgate." Great stuff.

And what a revelation it is. I think you've pretty much cracked it.

Firstly, nice to have the question of what happened after the cow got lost answered almost as quickly as it was asked. Stolen in the night, abandoned in a school, returned for a reward. A quite expensive reward, that's $429 in Canadian money.

So much detail on Mootro backstory in this one that you helpfully found. I never thought I'd be so excited to get backstory on a model cow.

The hard-working marketing team at Associated's Metro newspaper had hatched a plan to take one of its life-size promo cows up to Edinburgh for its sponsorship of part of the fringe festival. Metro's marketers planned to put the cow on a float as part of its entry for the opening calvacade of the Edinburgh Festival. They went so far as to arrange for a concrete base to be put on the cow to deter any drunken light-fingery.

"One of its life-size promo cows". So there were more than one. Multiple Mootros. They didn't just take the sole mascot for a large corporation and tear it apart.

And I think you're right that this answers why the cow was important enough to have its theft reported - and to have them offer over $400 to get it back - but unimportant enough so that John Oliver was allowed to attack it with a pipe. This article does make it sound like it was brought up there specifically for the calvacade, so once that was over, it wasn't needed anymore. Could just be dropped in, for example, a venue they sponsor.

But all to no avail. The night before the cavalcade and, ironically, as the Metro team watched a Shakespearian theatrical version of The Italian Job, the thieves pounced. Next morning, Mootro the cow had disappeared and Metro's parade idea was in tatters. The offer of a £250 reward leading to information on the theft of the cow was to no avail and Metro had to press on udderless, despite suggestions that the managing director, Steve Auckland, team up with the Evening Standard's managing director, Mike Anderson, to form a pantomime version.

Love that Steve Auckland gets another mention. He's an unexpected character in this story.

I think we can declare one of the two biggest questions in the Cowgate mystery solved. Where did they get the cow? From the Metro company that sent it up there to be in a parade, it missed the parade due to a theft that's actually entirely unrelated to the Cowgate incident and they paid a lot of money to get it back, but once they had it, they didn't care about it anymore because the parade was over so they put it in the Gilded Balloon. What a fucking story. The cow actually does have a backstory.

And it has a name. A terrible name. A bad pun. That'll be why they destroyed it, you can let things go around being named Mootro. It does add a further layer to this gif:

John Oliver documented his hatred of puns throughout eight years of Bugle recordings, expressing approximately the above level of fury toward Andy Zaltzman's puns. And here, we see someone hand him a pipe in the presence of what is essentially a pun that's taken physical form, and he instantly unleashes hell on it. This is a gif of John Oliver destroying a pun. Whacky stick!

And finally, what a fun video. It looked like an amazingly high quality video because it so much clearer than the other footage of Late 'n' Live I've seen, though when I downloaded it I learned it's only 360p. And I did, of course, download it. Because my Chocolate Milk Gang folder doesn't already have enough files in it (it does, it has too many files, but now it has one more). And because I wanted to take some screenshots, which is much easier on my own video player than from YouTube.

A snapshot from the rap battle video in decent quality (in 360p, but that's so much better than the quality of the video itself that by comparison it looks like high definition). Finally, a reasonably clear image of Daniel Kitson and the fabled Metro cow with Jermine Clement playing guitar in the background looking bored. CMG history that wasn't filmed on a potato, but instead in sweet, sweet 360p.

Speaking of Daniel Kitson, I think he should make this screenshot the background on his website:

It would render the website's text unreadable, but his current background already does this, so he may as well use an image that makes him look like a Star Wars villain.

Was anyone going to tell me Demetri Martin can grow a beard, or was I just supposed to learn that from a 2008 Gilded Balloon promo video myself?

Also, according to the message of this video, congratulations to Jo Brand on being the only woman in comedy before 2008. Holding it down for everyone else.

And right in the middle of it all:

You're absolutely right, it has to be the same cow. You can see the horns are the same shape. And the bag on the side has the Metro logo. Unfortunately 360p isn't quite enough for me to be able to read any of the posters, even with zooming in. But I think it must be from 2003. Look how many places this cow has been!

Genuinely, thank you for sharing in my absolutely pointless hobby of uncovering every single bit of 00s Edinburgh Festival history, with a particular focus on one night in August 2003. By rights this has no business being a collaborative hobby, but my quest has turned into a team effort and that makes it so much better.

Fucking Mootro. What kind of name is that? No wonder they hit it with a stick.

In the last few days, I've made two long and rambling posts about Cowgate, a short incident from 2003 that haunts my nightmares. I think people should know that when I make posts like that - the ones that go way too long about something entirely niche - I am operating under the assumption that absolutely no one is reading this bullshit. Even the small handful of people who read this blog regularly, I assume you skip over those ones.

That's not just a hypothetical assumption, I make writing choices accordingly. I assume the only purpose of this post is to give me somewhere to put the hauntings besides my nightmares, and therefore, it doesn't matter if it's readable. I know that my whole blog is full of errors, but on posts like that, I get especially lax with things like editing. I go really deep on things where on a different post, I might think - okay, that's far enough. Because no one is reading this.

I have now been proven wrong several times about those couple of posts, which both mildly embarrasses and delights me. First of all, I got this great comment from @beastlyanachronism, which is now how I love to picture myself:

Then, the wonderful @lastweeksshirttonight proved that they'd read not only the posts but the comment, by immediately messaging me a corresponding picture. I replied that I love the image, I will definitely start my post with that image the next time a new Cowgate-based detail is found and I need to write about it. I didn't expect that to be soon, though. Breakthroughs are few and far between.

But then, I got another message, proving that at least three different people have read my post (actually four, if you count the very kind British man who read my post and then sent me a message to explain the nuances in the expression "bottle it"). And that last message is the reason for this post. Because, I can't believe I've been given cause to use this image so soon:

Further content behind the cut, because not everyone needs this content all over their feed.

This relates to the message I got last night, from the extremely helpful @linkeightvideo, who not only read my posts, but joined the cause and did his own research. And came up with this link:

The Metro cow is a thing!!! I knew the wording of that YouTube comment was weird (calling it "the Metro cow", rather than something like "a cow that said Metro on it"), suggesting that this was a specific and recognizable instillation. And I was right! But I cannot take credit for figuring that out, all credit goes to @linkeightvideo, who is the best.

The above link is to an archived version of an article from August 5, 2003, about three weeks before Cowgate occurred (which was August 26, 2003 - fun fact that has absolutely nothing to do with anything because to the best of my knowledge he wasn't there or anything, but that was also Nish Kumar's eighteenth birthday). The article is from the Edinburgh Fringe website. It's short enough so I'm just going to paste its text in full:

The Fringe was hit by a bunch of cotton-pickin', rootin-tootin' cattle ruslers in the early hours of Saturday night. The almost life-sized, bright blue and red Metro bull was stolen from outside the Metro Fringe Box Office. Metro newspapers are appealing for its safe return before the police are called and urge anyone with information to come forward. Metro Fringe Box Office Manager, Gillian O'Connor said: "We're distraught to have lost such a valuable member of the Box Office team! Please bring him back." The bull had just completed a secondment outside London's Victoria station, where he stood unmoved for a month. Yet after only a few days on duty with the Fringe he has gone missing leaving today's Festival Cavalcade a bull short of a procession.

That's it!!! That's the one! It was blue and red! I know it was blue and red, because Adam hills shouted "it's got red horns, it's all the rage". And it was almost life sized! And it said Metro on the side! Further research - also done by @linkeightvideo, he deserves all the credit in the world for this - finds that Metro sponsored the Edinburgh Fringe Festival that year, and also directly sponsored the Gilded Balloon venue.

So, the company called Metro had a large cow that was used in advertisements, and for one month in the summer of 2003, it was in London, outside Victoria Station. Then it was brought to Edinburgh, because they were sponsoring the festival and running a box office. They put it outside that box office, and it got stolen within "a few days" (which makes sense, as August 5th is a few days into the festival). It was meant to be part of the Festival Cavalcade, but couldn't be due to thieves.

Then, three weeks later, it spends all night on stage during a late-night comedy show in an Edinburgh venue that Metro sponsors, where it gets taken apart. How do we get from one state of affairs to the other? I don't know, but I'm a hell of a lot closer to understanding than I was yesterday. If the cow was somehow recovered, it would make sense from them to move it indoors, where it can be guarded better (again, credit for this idea goes to @linkeightvideo, and I think it makes sense). I mean, it can be guarded from drunk thieves in the middle of the night. Apparently the stage of the Gilded Balloon is not a good place to guard it from (shockingly) sober comedians in the middle of the night.

This made me try searching again for the specific words "Metro cow", and I found this article from December 12, 2003. It's a list of people who are involved with whatever organization this is, I'm not really clear on that. But it includes this one guy named Stephen Auckland. He's from the North of England, and as of when this was written, he was listened as the managing director of Metro. The bottom of his profile says:

An able sidekick to Associated Newspaper's Mike Anderson, even when it came to keeping up appearances following the disappearance of Mootro, Metro's cow mascot, from the Edinburgh festival. Auckland offered to dress up as a pantomime version. Luckily, they found the cow.

Guys! Guys! It has a fucking name! The Cowgate cow has a name! It's named Mootro! Now that I think about it, I actually can't believe I've never named the thing, given that I named the event (Cowgate), and giving the cow a name is the sort of thing I'd do. But I don't have to, because apparently it's named Mootro.

And the story has an update. It was stolen by August 5, and then it was found at some unknown point, and by August 26 it was in the Gilded Balloon. And then it got taken apart on stage.

I think this brings up one obvious question, which is: if this thing was important enough for its theft to be reported on the Edinburgh Fringe website, how come they were allowed to destroy it? The obvious answer would be that it was specifically made for just that one Edinburgh Festival, and was meant to be destroyed at the end of it anyway. But why did it spend a month in London right before that, then? And why would they do that anyway? Surely it's not efficient to make something like that for only a month, you'd think they'd plan to have it last a while and move it around based on where they're sponsoring things.

I can't believe this. This is the biggest revelation since I figured out who the fuck Karen Koren was, the woman referenced in Adam Hills' song, after after ages of Googling comedians named "Erin Coren" (finally worked out that she was the venue owner, which seems obvious now but it hadn't occurred to me at the time, when I was expecting it to be a reference to another performer). Actually, this is a much bigger revelation than that one, which just explained a couple of Adam Hills' lyrics. This is the biggest revelation in all the Cowgate research yet. The two main questions at the heart of the Cowgate mystery are: "Why did you do it?" and "Where did you get the cow?" And now one of those questions has been answered! It has a fucking name!

That second article referred to it specifically as the Metro "mascot". I guess a company is going to make more than one version of a mascot. But still, I don't think you're allowed to just destroy a sponsor's mascot. Maybe that mascot was at the end of its life anyway? Maybe Daniel Kitson just doesn't give a fuck? Maybe Daniel Kitson stole the cow in the first place. There's a whole new question. Who stole the cow? How did they get it back? How did it get from there to its whereabouts on August 26?

I know it wasn't on the Gilded Balloon stage every night of the 2003 Edinburgh Festival, because there's no sign of it in this montage, from Late 'n' Live on August 19, 2003 (also a fun video and great snippets of Chocolate Milk Gang history, if you can get past the second-hand embarrassment of Kitson trying his rap battle thing with an actual musician, and the presence of an actual musician makes the whole thing seem less ironic and therefore harder to watch - but you do get to see David O'Doherty beat up Jason Byrne and that's hilarious, also it's very funny to watch Daniel Kitson do something as out of character as brag about "nearly" winning a Barry Award and having a girlfriend from Australia, especially given how the latter turned out):

So it wasn't there on that night. Also, it just couldn't have been there every night. The Gilded Balloon is a proper venue that has proper shows during most of its time, it couldn't just have a large cow on stage for all of those. Also, in the beginning of that montage video from August 26, you see Kitson talking to the audience about the cow, and it sounds like he considers its presence as much of a novelty as they do. I mean, he's making fun of them for thinking it's a novelty, but he doesn't seem familiar with it, it seems like something he has to address:

This is the main reason for my theory that they didn't plan it beforehand, the montage shows the audience giving Kitson challenges for easy things to do with the cow, he asks them for more difficult challenges and then the video cuts, but I think the audience then asked him to tear it apart. It's a theory that makes sense based on some circumstantial evidence, but it does open up other questions. The main one being whether you can get permission to destroy a company's mascot between the beginning and the end of a comedy show, especially a comedy show that takes place entirely in the middle of the night. It doesn't seem likely. It also opens up some smaller questions, like what they were planning as the end of the show - the finale of the last night of Late 'n' Live, so you'd think they'd have something - that got bumped for this.

This reminds me that I had some further thoughts on the other mystery, of what actually went down on the night of August 26. I was thinking of the somewhat blue sky theory of there being two previous. Evidence for this: Adam Hills referred to "three chances", they were able to pick up chisels off the ground that seemed to just be lying around (possibly having been discarded after previous attempts), and Kitson in that video does have their air of someone who's already watched this go wrong and is really determined to make sure they get it fucking right this time. Evidence against: I'm not sure that works from a show planning perspective. What if it had worked on the first try, then what would the finale have been? If they'd watched it fail twice, would they really have made it the finale, knowing it may well fail a third time and that would be a shit ending? Though this could possibly be explained by the presence of the pipe that someone runs on stage, significantly increasing their chances compared to any attempt where that pipe was not in play.

I thought of something else today: the cow was already down when they started that video. Earlier in the night, we see comedians sitting on the cow, it's standing up. But at the end, when those guys run out to try to take it apart, they don't have to knock it down first. It's already lying on its side. They could have knock it down just before starting the song, but why would they do that? Surely knocking it down would be a fun dramatic moment, so if this were the first time they'd messed with the cow, they'd leave the knocking down to be part of the process. Unless this weren't the first time, and they had dramatically knocked it down before starting to try taking it apart, but this one done at some earlier point that the video didn't catch.

Anyway. That's the revelation. Along with some further thoughts on theories, but the main thing is the revelation. Massive breakthrough, and I need to thank @linkeightvideo one more time for research that he was under absolutely no obligation to do, but he came through anyway. What a legend. Am I using the British expressions right? What a solid gold legend.

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 19 - The Seventh Yearh (Part Four)

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: PTSD, mentions of violence, dark magic, mind games, emotional manipulation, brief sexual teasing/thematic with minors, angst, minors kissing.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 19 - Part XIX - The Seventh Yearh (Part Four)

The tent is already set up, and you are sitting in the living room, adjusting the radio on the kitchen table.

"Are you sure it was working before?" You mutter discontentedly, beginning to feel frustrated with the device that refuses to recognize the signal.

Wanda, who is standing next to you with a magic book in her lap, doesn't take her eyes off the reading when she answers yes.

Agatha comes out from inside the room with several objects in hand, and dumps them on the table in front of you.

"Well girls, what I have to do in this country can only be done during the day, so let's study in the meantime." She announces as she arranges the jars she has brought. You raise your eyebrow, pushing the small radio away.

"Actually I wanted to ask a few questions and finish going through the memories, Agatha." You say but she laughs, denying with her head.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." She says. "Are you trying to lose your mind completely? You can't use zinnia for too long. It destroys that fragile mind of yours. I'm sure that's part of the curriculum, so what are you doing at Hogwarts if not studying?" She sneers and then looks at Wanda. "Oh wait, I know what kept you busy."

You turn red, but before you can complain about the woman's lack of description, Wanda is speaking.

"In case you have forgotten, we learned about zinnia in fifth grade." She says. "And Hogwarts was not an example of any teaching in that period or the year after for Y/N."

Agatha rolls her eyes, shrugging to end the teasing. You feel too embarrassed to look at Wanda again.

"Well, I'll go and fix Kaecillius' damage to my school administration then." Says the teacher. "If Miss Stark intends to become a decent witch, she needs to learn magic. The same goes for you, Miss Maximoff."

"I know magic, Agatha." Wanda begrudgingly retorts, her gaze returning to the book.

"If I remember correctly, my tutoring was discontinued, so there is much you need to learn."

"You remember it well, yes. We had to break off relations because you attacked my girlfriend." Wanda returns the teasing, but Agatha only laughs lightly as she begins to do some mixing.

“Water under the bridge, now.” She mutters, and soon, she’s putting a cup in front of you, and pouring a clear liquid inside.

"No, thank you." You say, leaning your arms on the table. Wanda gives a short laugh from your side without taking her eyes off the book.

"It's not poison." Agatha says.

"I know, I've seen you do it." You say. "I just won't drink it because it would be the second intoxication in less than 24 hours."

Agatha laughs, pulling the glass back to herself. A proud smile on her lips because you were able to recognize that whatever she was doing, it wasn't ready yet.

She charms the mixture, purple magic touching the liquid, until the color changes to a brilliant gold.

She pushes the glass back, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Drink."

"No."

"Wanda, darling, drink this." She says pushing the glass toward the girl. The witch sighs, her eyes on the book.

"Don't drag me into it, Agatha. " She says. "It was you who told her not to accept drinks from strangers."

"You two are so annoying." The witch declares. You giggle, but accept the drink.

For the next hours, Agatha teaches you to recognize the smell, and then the taste, of different plants, so that if you do get poisoned, at least have time to try something.

It's dinnertime when she decides to wrap up with one last potion, and you're resting your head on the table, waiting for her to finish brewing the potion, the book she's enchanted floating in the air beside her.

"Here." She says pushing the bottle in front of you.

It is only when the potion touches your lips that you recognize the taste. The same elixir Agatha gave you in the dungeon.

Your body tenses, and you cough awkwardly, pushing the cup back to her while she watches you attentively.

“W-why would you…” You started feeling your chest hurt, your heart racing. Swallowing the emotion away, you look at her, but Agatha is already organizing everything.

"What did you do?" Wanda asks worriedly, noticing the way you have gotten jumpy. Agatha sighs.

"Trauma can be a powerful thing, Miss Stark." Murmurs the older witch. "An immense vulnerability to an opponent to take advantage of. You'll need to overcome that if you want to protect her."

You stand up, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed, evading Wanda's touch on your shoulders. "I'm going to bed."

"I didn't mean to upset you, Miss Stark." Agatha says, but you are already leaving.

You hear Wanda slam the book down hard on the table before following you back into the bedroom.

As you sit on the bunk, trying to normalize your breathing, she kneels in front of you, her hands on your neck.

"What happened?" she asks worriedly, her fingers caressing your skin.

"It 's stupid."

"Tell me."

You sigh, looking down at your own lap. "It's the same potion she used on me, in the dungeons. To keep me awake."

"I'm going to kill her." Wanda says simply, but when she makes mention of getting up, you hold her in place.

"Hey, it's okay." You say quickly. "She's messing with us, again. But I don't think she really meant any harm. Besides, we have an agreement don't we?"

But Wanda had an anger in her gaze that you have never seen before, her jaw locked. You touched her cheek with your hand.

"Wanda?"

"I hate this, Y/N." She confesses between teeth, her eyes filling with angry tears. "I hate what she did to you. I hate that I can't change, take your pain away. Not being strong enough to protect you. Or smart enough to see that she was using me an-

"Wanda, stop it." You interrupt seriously, and as your hand moves down her neck, you feel the metal of the necklace. Sighing softly, you keep your attention on the green orbs in front of you. "I really want to take away all the guilt you feel before it eats you alive, but I don't know how. Tell me how to help you."

Wanda seems surprised at your words, and just looks at you. And then to your lips, and you feel her breath hitch, before she puts a little distance between your faces.

"I'll be fine." She assures you with a sad smile. "My priority is whether if you will be as well."

You smile at her. "I'm only okay when you're okay, Wanda."

It sounded romantic in your head, but maybe those weren't the words you should have chosen, because Wanda looked away immediately, almost embarrassed, and not for the right reasons. Swallowing dryly, she got up from the floor.

"I-I'm going to talk to Agatha." She declares. "About boundaries. This won't work if we don't have any." She walks away to the bedroom door, but before she leaves, she turns to you again. "I'm also going to heat up dinner. Join us if you want."

But you wouldn't. You weren't hungry, and you were feeling stupid for saying that just hours after you heard Wanda confess that she hated that your life depended on hers.

So you threw yourself on the bed, and tried to get some rest.

You ended up oversleeping. And you only woke up because Wanda was having a nightmare in the top bed.

Moving quickly out of the bunk, you stood, turning to check on her.

A frown even with closed eyes, wriggling slightly in bed. You sighed with concern, tracing the skin of her face to wake her without startling her.

When she had a small jolt, her eyes were red, but they returned to their normal color when she realized she was only dreaming, and threw her face back into the pillow.

"I'm sorry." She murmured in a hoarse voice, but you just supported your arms on the mattress, and your face in them.

"For what?"

"For waking you up." She retorts, turning to lie on her side, and face you.

"No problem." You say. "I guess in a way I'm returning favors."

Wanda smiles, but it is so short that you feel awkward. And then you extend your fingers to her neck.

"Why are you still wearing this?" You ask about the necklace, and she frowns slightly, turning back to stare at the ceiling.

"Agatha hurts you when she wears it." She says simply. " So I will wear it to avoid that."

You shake your head. "No way, take it off now."

Wanda moves further away, on the edge of the bunk. You sigh impatiently, and climb onto the mattress.

The metal makes a noise with the new weight, but you are busy trying to get the necklace off Wanda, who grumbles and tries to struggle against your hands as she tries to keep you from falling off the bed.

You end up on top of her, the necklace in your right hand, but your other hand dangerously close to her breasts.

"Don't wear it for long." You tell her half out of breath from the struggle and the closeness, Wanda is looking at you wide-eyed. "Let's switch whenever it starts to get too much, okay?"

"Y-yes."

"Wanda, you're blushing." You tease with a smile, watching her cheeks. She looks at your mouth, frowning.

"No I'm not."

"Is it because I'm on top of you, baby?" You continue, and she turns even redder. You were going to tease her further, but while you were talking, you had moved to put the necklace on.

And when the object hung around her neck, all the tension changed.

You looked into Wanda's longing gaze and could only remember that she chose to leave you. Without asking your opinion. Without caring about your feelings.

So you pulled away, with a neutral expression, laying down on the bed beside her.

There is a silence between you, Wanda is trying to control her heartbeat and you are trying to push so many doubts that pop into your head at once.

"I think if you're not going to be with me, we shouldn't do this kind of thing anymore." You state simply, and can hardly be bothered by the way Wanda stands tense beside you.

And there is a long pause, until she speaks. "Okay."

You want to scream at her lack of reaction. All you do is stand up, and leave the room.

From that distance, you cannot hear Wanda crying against the pillow.

//-//-//-//-//

It doesn't take long for you to realize that wearing the necklace is addictive.

The deal is not more than four hours for each, but every time the object is hanging around your neck, you are gripped by the urge to keep it with you.

There is a whisper in the back of your mind saying that Wanda could lose it, or break it, and it's hard to push those lines away when you need to give it back, but you manage. And you wonder if Wanda thinks the same things.

When you are wearing the necklace, you feel apathetic and angry. It's as if all the bad things that have happened to you reach the surface at once. You give short answers, and isolate yourself. Your mind sighs things that you think you should remember are lies.

Agatha is trying to make you a better witch. The same for Wanda.

She teaches you things you don't know, from books you've never seen.

But with weeks of running and camping, and the horcrux around your neck, you begin to grow impatient with the lack of answers.

So you are breaking a plate without realizing it.

"Fuck." You grumble in irritation as you feel the pain of the small cut on your hand. The noise has attracted the other two women, and it is Wanda who reaches for you first, but when she touches your forearm to pull your hand and see the cut, you move away as if you have been slapped. "Don't."

And you throw the dishcloth on the table, leaving the tent.

You are somewhere in northern Ireland, Agatha said it was at least.

And there are many trees obscuring your surroundings, but you walk among them without caring about getting lost. The necklace whispers that you should be alone, and you believe it.

The cut on your hand aches a bit, but you stop only when you reach the edge of a lake.

Maybe the icy water will calm your anger. Or maybe you will die of hypothermia and Wanda will live happily without you. The last thought made your stomach turn, but you kept taking off your clothes.

The necklace was cold against your skin, but no colder than water.

You dove in, and stayed under the water until you needed to breathe again.

The tears on your face were tears of frustration, but the lake wiped them away.

You wondered if they would leave without you.

If Wanda would run away and abandon you in Ireland.

She didn't want you to stay with her after all.

She didn't want you.

You sobbed.

And you went back under the water until you stopped crying.

But then someone jumped into the lake, the noise startled you.

You opened your eyes to find Wanda's terrified look under the water before you ascended together.

"Merlin, what is your problem?" She squinted in desperation, and you realized that she began to cry. "I thought you were-"

But she sobbed without being able to complete, and you shrank back against the cold water, hugging your body. "I just went for a swim."

"Don't ever do that again." She pleads between tears, throwing herself against you in a tight embrace, which you don't reciprocate.

The horcrux screams in the back of your head, like a loud whistle, and you are pushing Wanda by the waist. "I'm fine, we can go."

You walk out of the lake in a mechanical manner, ignoring the upset look Wanda has as you do so. And you put on your clothes in silence, until you are standing clumsily at the edge.

Before you return however, Wanda calls out to you.

"Take it off."

"I still have time." You mumble without looking at her, but Wanda is approaching and you clench your jaw.

"I wasn't asking." She says and you lock eyes with her in defiance, not moving. When she is close enough to pull out, you move forward and kiss her on the mouth.

She sighs affected, almost losing her balance. And when she motions to kiss you back, you pull away.

"Don't touch what isn't yours." You don't know if you're talking about the necklace, or your body, but either way Wanda's eyes fall to your lips, and she holds her breath.

"I wasn't." She whispers, and without losing her composure, her hands go up your arms until they reach your neck, and she is so close that you ignore the urge to keep the necklace, and let her do whatever she wants. Her fingers find the item. "The necklace belongs to any worthy slytherin. And you, darling, you have always been mine."

You sigh as the necklace comes off, and Wanda throws it on the floor the next moment.

This time, it is she who breaks the distance, bringing your mouths together in a passionate kiss.

Your head spins, and you surrender. Her hands go to where the necklace was, and her tongue invades your mouth without waiting for permission, taking you for herself, making you gasp.

Thrusting your body forward, with your hands on Wanda's waist, you press her against the tree behind her, never breaking the kiss and making her sigh at having your body so close.

You are kissing each other firmly, with longing. You breathe breathlessly against each other's lips, afraid that if any of you pull away you will be done for good.

Your hands start to move down before you can think about it, and when they reach Wanda's ass, you squeeze the flesh against your hands, and she moans against your lips, thrusting her hips forward, begging for more.

There's not the slightest possibility that your first time with Wanda would be in a forest, in the middle of the snow, but when she bites your lips and kisses you like this, it doesn't seem so impossible. It gets hard not to think about getting down on your knees, tasting her where you imagine she would like it.

"We shouldn't." She manages to whisper between kisses, in the mess you two have become, and all you do is move your lips down her jaw, and then her neck. And Wanda whimpers, digging her fingernail into your shoulder. "Please."

You don't know if she is asking for more, or to stop. The second option breaks your heart, but you follow it, breathing out of rhythm as you pull your lips from her skin, pulling away.

Wanda's lips are swollen from kissing hard, her pupils dilated, her chest heaving. And you want to kiss her again, but you just swallow dry and put more distance between you.

"W-we should go back." You mumble in a hoarse voice, looking down at the ground.

"There you are!" Agatha's voice makes you jump in fright, and so does Wanda. The tension turned to shame of you being found, with clearly visible appearances of what you two were doing. But the older witch doesn't mind, a teasing smile. "Busy?"

"I just came to check if she was okay." Wanda answers quickly, clumsily as she bends down to pick up the necklace she threw on the floor.

"I imagine so." Agatha mutters. "We need to go, we didn't come here for nothing."

The way back is silent,you don't have the courage to face Wanda, but she has put the necklace back on, and isn't looking because she must be hating herself, again.

And you bite the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to do.

Agatha is whistling, and you realize that you are not going back to the tent.

"Where are we going, Agatha?" You ask curiously, and she replies still looking forward.

"Your father really did have friends in all places, Miss Stark."

You frown, but it is Wanda who speaks. "Vague answers don't make you sound mysterious, Agatha. They just annoy me."

The older witch laughs at the comment, but you think you must be too affected by the make-out session, because Wanda's locked jaw makes you wish she would just kiss you again, non-stop this time.

Clearing your throat, you look away, and decide to follow the two other witches in silence.

“We are here to see a quite despicable sorcerer, who is going to make mean and unkind remarks, and you are going to be silent so that I can go on."

You exchange a look with Wanda, who has an expression of indignation on her face.

"I can' t promise that, Agatha. " She says. "Wouldn't it be better to leave us in the tent?"

"So you can be grabbing each other like two animals in heat?" She retorts and you choke in surprise, looking away to the ground immediately. "I don't really care, but I need Stark, because Tivan owed Howard a favor and only agreed to deal with her present. And well, I expected you wouldn't let her come alone with me."

Wanda completely ignores Agatha's teasing to reply "You're right, I don't trust you."

"Thanks, sugar." The witch retorts, causing the younger girl to roll her eyes impatiently. "Do me a favor and keep that necklace well hidden. Or give it back to me."

"No." She answers quickly. "I'll keep it."

"As you wish." Agatha says and you stand in silence as you walk through the small village.

It is really very quiet, and the few people on the street don't bother to look at you guys at all.

And then you are at the gate of a huge mansion, and Agatha is telling the gatekeeper that you have an appointment with the "collector."

"Why do you call him that?" You ask, and she gives a little laugh.

"You'll understand in a minute."

You walk down the front steps to the door.

And when you enter, you hold your breath.

It is no ordinary house, it is a long dark corridor, magically enchanted and giving you the feeling that it is endless, with the same doors for miles and miles forward.

A girl about your age is waiting, and she smiles politely at the three of you.

"Miss Harkness, you have finally managed to join us." She says. "My master is waiting for you and Miss Stark."

"Miss Maximoff will be joining us tonight as well dear. I hope Tivan doesn't mind." Says the witch following the other down the hall.

"Every friend of Howard Stark is welcome, my master said." The girl says simply, and you see Agatha sigh. She seems annoyed by the other's submission, but says nothing.

You stop in front of a double door, white in prominence with the darkness of the hallway.

The girl opens it, and you enter a huge room, with the ceiling so high that even if you squint your eyes, you can't see the end. And it reflects the stars.

A tall, strong man wearing a leather dragon coat is waiting inside, and he flashes a smile that does not reach his eyes. His hair is as white as the door.

"Agatha! It's so good to see you again, old friend." He says with open arms, but reaches up with outstretched hands, catching Agatha's quickly. "Did you have a peaceful trip?"

"Hardly, Tivan, I'm a fugitive now." She jokes causing you and Wanda to exchange worried glances, but the wizard doesn't seem to mind, laughing at the phrase. "And don't call me old, we're only a few decades apart!"

Tivan laughs again, letting go of the witch's hands. He turns his face to you, and looks at you with glowing eyes.

"By Merlin, you are Stark's daughter." He says. "You have the same eyes as Melissa, no?"

You look embarrassed under his gaze. It's evaluative, and Wanda seems to notice it too, because she covers you gently, and draws the man's attention to herself.

"Oh, and who are you, sweetheart?"

"This is Wanda Maximoff, Tivan." Agatha replies earnestly, and you are surprised at the scolding. "And no, they're not for sale."

You widen your eyes, understanding the reason behind his name. Wanda's hand slides into yours immediately, covered by the cape.

Tivan gives a short laugh, "That's a shame, Harkness. You know very well the value of a scarlet sorceress. Even more a pretty thing like that."

You take an aggressive step forward, but Agatha quickly stands in your way.

"Let's finalize everything soon, Tivan." She urges. "I can't stay in places for too long. I'm sure you can understand the feeling."

The man gives you and Wanda one last look before nodding to Agatha, turning to walk toward the bookshelves on the right side in the room.

There are several shelves, with many items, and just like the hallways, extend into what seems like infinity.

Tivan just goes to the first one, and pulls out a small chest from there, enchanting it to follow him in the air to you.

"Here it is, Agatha." He says. "Howard Stark's last translator."

You widen your eyes as the chest opens. Inside, there is a small metal device. Very different from any of your father's other machines, it looks much more rudimentary.

Agatha sighs softly, lifting her fingers to trace the object.

"And you assure me it works?" She asks, and the man chuckles softly.

"I have plenty of monsters in there if you want to test it."

You swallow dryly, but Agatha just smiles. "No need, you are many things, but a liar is none of them."

"I appreciate the confidence, Agatha." He says as he moves his fingers and magically closes the trunk. "But pay before you play."

The witch doesn't look offended, she just hurries to fiddle with her robes, and you widen your eyes when she takes out a necklace.

Kaecillius' gift, the eye of Agamotto.

"That's not yours to sell!" You blurt out angrily, but Agatha keeps the item out of your reach, while Tivan seems impressed by the whole scene.

"And neither is yours, Miss Stark." She retorts impatiently. "Be quiet while the adults talk."

"Are you serious? How did you even get it, it was in the house-"

"Quiet!" Agatha cuts in turning to you, her tone is angry, but her eyes are almost pleading. "That's enough of this. Don't disgrace the good manners your father taught you."

You are indignant, but Wanda's grip around your hands makes you believe it is better not to insist.

"Play along." Her voice sounds in your head the same second Agatha turns to Tivan again, and you swallow dryly, trusting her.

"Interesting." The man murmurs, impressed, but doesn't keep his gaze on you. His attention shifts immediately to the necklace Agatha hands him.

"As you can see, it's real." She says. "A fair price for another relic, or even more valuable, since you will find no use for the translator."

Tivan grimaces. "Don't push it too far, Agatha. The translator became quite valuable with Stark's death. No one was able to reproduce another one." He says as he looks back to the witch. "Actually, I think I should raise my price." He says curling his fingers in the necklace, thoughtful as you watch Agatha tense up before relaxing.

"Now I'm the one who's going to ask you not to push it so far, Tivan." She says. "Agamotto is also dead, and that's the only treasure of his you'll get. Don't try to change the value just because you don't know how it works."

Tivan looks offended, but only for a second, because his gaze softens and he laughs. "Right, right. Any chance you know what's inside?"

"I have no idea." She says, but a part of you thinks she is lying.

The man nods, and the trunk moves gracefully through the air into Agatha's hands. She takes the small device from inside, and stows it inside her cloak.

Tivan takes his eyes off the necklace in his hands to look directly at you.

"I have a question for you, Miss Stark, before you go." He says, and Wanda squeezes your hand from behind the cloak, but you just stand there, waiting for the man to speak. "Did your father ever mention New York to you or your brother?"

"Tivan..."

"I asked the girl, Agatha." He interrupts the witch seriously. You think she doesn't insist because you are in his house, and a wizard like that, should bring trouble if contradicted. "Well?"

"No, sir." You say uncomfortably. "I don't know any New York stories."

The man gives a disappointed smile. "I suspected, but I wanted to hear you say it." He declares straightening his posture, and the necklace flies through the air until it vanishes among the bookshelves as Tivan walks back to the center of the room. "I would invite you for tea, but I understand the rush. You should know that I am always up for new negotiations with you, Agatha. And the same goes for the Scarlet Witch and her protector."

Agatha bids a quick farewell, pushing you gently out of the room.

"Don't look back, or the hall will get longer. Just keep walking." She guides in a whisper, and you think it best to obey.

The exit does seem to take longer, but you manage to reach the door. The girl from before was already waiting for you all, her arms behind her back.

"Thank you for your visit, Miss Harkness." She says politely. "My master is pleased with the acquisition this evening."

"I'm sure he is, dear." Agatha says, and touches the girl's arm gently. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

The girl just smiles, nodding almost mechanically. Agatha hesitates, but walks away.

As soon as you are outside the property, Wanda is yelling.

"I can't believe you stole from me, Agatha!" She squawks angrily as you all walk back into the forest, and the older witch just grumbles displeased at the volume, speeding off. "I told you this wouldn't work if you kept lying!"

"Would you have given me the necklace in good grace?" She retorts impatiently, but doesn't even wait for Wanda to answer. "Of course you wouldn't. Because you don't know what it is, but you're smart enough to know that it's not something ordinary. And too stubborn to willingly hand it over, not to mention you don't trust me, Wanda. I did what was necessary for us to make some progress."

"No more lies, Agatha!" Wanda insists in a mixture of frustration and irritation. "Stop hiding things. You could have asked, explained what you were going to do!

"Witches don't do that, Wanda." She retorts impatiently. "I've been alive for how many centuries, child. Do you think you can survive by telling everyone what you were going to do? No. You go ahead and do whatcha you gotta do, that’s the truth. Secrets save lives.”

"That's such bullshit." The brunette retorts, but you are almost back in the tent area, and Agatha is stopping walking.

"Give me the locket." She says, and Wanda frowns. "Let's get this over with quickly."

"What are you talking about?"

"That's why I needed the translator." She clarifies. "I went to Stark Manor last year, looking for this in the wreckage, but the walkers found it first. And it circled the dark market for months until Tivan acquired it in his collection. It's just what I need to open the horcrux and destroy it."

You look surprised and impressed, but Wanda crosses her arms.

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"Six years ago, Pietro Maximoff took Godric Gryffindor's sword out of the selector hat at my request." She counters drawing surprised exclamations from you and Wanda. "I didn't let him remember that, and I spent the last few years fortifying the metal with every kind of magic I could find. The poison from the monsters you didn't face in the labyrinth in the fourth year because I was hunting them out, or the blood from the dragon you killed in the first task. Everything. The goblins wrote to me that the sword only absorbed what could make it stronger, and even without knowing the location of the horcruxes, I needed to be ready to destroy them."

"How did you lose the sword?" You ask then, trying to fit the whole story together. Agatha sighs.

"Pietro deserted Hogwarts." She says. "The sword immediately disappeared, it went back into the hat. And I had to go back for it."

"If you had the sword and the locket, why didn't you destroy it?" Wanda questions, and seems very annoyed at the information that Agatha also used Pietro.

"Because I don't know parseltongue." She replies. "But with this, I don’t need to and I can open it."

You exchange a look with Wanda.

"This conversation is not over, Agatha." She says as she moves her hands to remove the necklace.

Agatha turns toward the tent, raises her hand from where her magic is visible between her fingers, and it takes a moment for the sword to fly toward her, gracefully fitting between her fingers.

But she hands it to you.

"I have a feeling it needs to be held by a Gryffindor." She says and you frown.

"Do you have any argument to support that?" You ask as you pick up the sword.

"It's just a guess." She says as she takes the translator out of her pocket.

She gestures for Wanda to leave the locket on the ground, and she does so a few inches away from you so that you have room to wield the sword and destroy it.

"Well, let's get this over with." Agatha says with her attention on the object in her hands. "Help me understand the language of the snakes."

The small object trembles with Agatha's whisper, and when it ascends a golden light between the openings, she continues.

"Open it."

The sound coming out of the metal is unlike anything you have heard. But as soon as it becomes silent, the locket flips open.

And something leaps out, a dark shadow that knocks you to the ground, along with Wanda and Agatha, who are thrown at least two meters away.

Your whole body trembles with fear and alertness. You lean on your elbows to look.

It is the part of Mephisto's soul that is fighting, it is the darkness of magic that protects it.

Agatha didn't fall, she is fighting the part of the shadowy cloud that tries to cover her, the purple magic around her.

Wanda has fallen, but has the same position as you, staring frightened ahead. And your immediate urge is to reach for her, stumbling to get up.

"Destroy it now, Stark!" Agatha shouts, but you keep walking.

Except that the shadow shrouds your field of vision, and you stop confused.

Wanda is standing in front of you.

"What are you still doing here?" Her tone is icy, it chills your whole body the wrong way, and you frown in confusion.

"W-what? We're destroying the horcrux, Wanda, what-"

"I told you to leave." She interrupts as she approaches, her gaze cruel. She has never looked at you like that. "Didn't you hear what Agatha said? You are weak. You are not, and you were never good enough for me."

You stumble away, shocked by the words. But she doesn't stop, smiling arrogantly.

"How was it that the least smart Stark was chosen to protect me?" She teases. "Our classmates are right. I match with the champion of the Triwizard Tournament, that woman will indeed be able to protect someone like me. And if you're lucky, you might get someone who will accept your mediocrity."

You want to throw up. But this is wrong. Something in your brain is screaming, because Wanda would never say such things.

She reaches out to you, and her touch has no pressure. It's just a ghost. An illusion, playing with your senses.

"Pathetic." She whispers, the black orbs glowing. That's enough for you.

Your mind wanders immeditarily to last summer.

"You know how much I love you, don't you?" Wanda whispers in the dark, under the covers with you. The light of the lantern while you are reading Romeo and Juliet in her room is enough for you to see her face blurry.

You smile, closing the book, and pushing it away as you lie on your side to face her.

"I have a vague idea." You joke. "I think quite a bit since I've been sleeping here all week."

But Wanda looks worried; she copies your position, but keeps a serious face. You lift your fingers to trace the wrinkle in her forehead, squeezing lightly until she stops frowning and smiles.

"I just..." She starts almost embarrassed. "Promise you'll never forget?"

You smile, because the idea is absurd, but decide to follow the line. "I promise."

And when Wanda's eyes fill with tears, you worry too, but she quickly shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I'm just being silly."

You caress her cheek, wiping away the tears that have run down. " You know how much I love you?"

You repeat the question in a whisper, and Wanda's cheeks flush, but she smiles, straightening herself up better. "I have a vague idea, because you've been sleeping here all week."

You laugh softly, and she follows you. "It's more than that." You whisper as you stop, staring at her. "I love you more than anything."

Wanda nods softly, her eyes filling with tears again, but this time it's for a good reason. She feels the same way.

"More than the characters in the book loved each other?" She asks in a gasp, her hand squeezing your shirt softly. You smile.

"What I feel for you makes the love of Romeo and Juliet seem like a crush." You retort, making her laugh embarrassedly.

But her smile slowly dies, and she swallows dryly before speaking again. "I don't want us to end up like in the book, babe. Never."

You know she's talking about dying. But specifically about you dying for her. You know that Wanda would do that for you no matter what, but the idea of living without her is unreasonable.

"I wouldn't like that either." You confess, moving closer so that your noses are touching. "I'd like to live with you."

Wanda smiles shyly, embarrassed by the implications in your speech. But you let your fingers wander to her hair, tucking the strands behind her ear.

"I think we would be happy in a cottage." You say, and her gaze brightens beyond the redness on her face. "Or we could buy an apartment in the city where there's a park for you to walk around in."

"I would like that." She confesses smiling. "To have a home with you. Wherever that is."

You swallow dryly, feeling your chest warm with happiness. "Do you think we could handle taking care of animals? I don't ever remember feeding Iron."

Wanda laughs softly, nodding. "We could try a cat first, they're more independent."

"And then an owl."

"Soon a dog."

"Maybe two."

You take a chance. "Or who knows..." But you lose courage, but Wanda smiles.

"Children."

You nod softly, looking at the green orbs adoringly. And she looks at you the same way. "As many as you want."

Wanda's eyes looking at you lock on your mind for the next few seconds as the memory fades, and you find yourself back in the horror of dark magic all around you.

You stumble away from the illusion of the locket, wielding your sword, and ignoring the adrenaline whistle in your ears.

There is no time for another defense, you raise the sword, and the next minute, it strikes the metal, destroying it.

The ghosts scream, and are gone in the blink of an eye, and you gasp in shock, still standing with trembling hands.

When Wanda stands up, and makes mention of touching you, you stumble over your words. "W-we have to go. He'll feel it for sure, let's get out of here before they find us." And you are already walking out toward the tent, keeping your gaze on the ground.

For the next few minutes, you are on autopilot.

Helping Agatha with the tent in silence, the two other witches don't seem to know exactly how to talk about what has just happened.

And when you need to Apparate to a new place, you hold Agatha's forearm instead of Wanda's hand.

"Where are we?" The brunette asks as soon as the ground settles at her feet. Agatha sighs.

"Honestly, we're running out of options." She replies. "It's still the United Kingdom, but it's almost the limit. We're going to need ideas from here on."

You remain silent as you set the tent back up, and when everything is ready, your hands are still shaking.

"Try to rest, Stark." Agatha says beside you. "You did very well tonight."

You only mutter in understanding, hurrying off to your room.

Not even taking off your shoes, you throw yourself on the bed, burying your face in the pillow.

Maybe sleep will put the horcrux image out of your head, but you imagine that once you fall asleep, this will be the only thing you’ll dream about.

//-//-//-//-///-//-///-//-//

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[digitalfairyyy]

Never Letting You Out Of My Sight

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Summary: Fighting for the butcher army has its pros and its cons

Warnings: angst with some fluff sprinkled in, mentions of blood, hinted past abuse, choking, flinching

Pronouns: genderneutral

Note: I might write another part to this but who knows

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Art by Jessica Oyhenart

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The stars twinkled in the sky while you stood at your chest, organizing your supplies, pictures of ham and bacon hanging on the walls reminding you of the task at hand; to kill Technoblade. To get revenge for what happened to L'Manberg. You were no more than a nurse for the butcher army, and sometimes a guard, that's currently what you were doing. You had been given the task to watch Phil while the others go find Techno.

Glancing over at where Phil was sitting on house arrest, you picked up a shiny red apple from the chest and made your way to Phil's house. With a quiet knock, Phil was at the door staring at you. You held out the apple to him while he stared at you as if you were insane.

"Take this as my apology to what the Butcher army did to your home, I know an apple isn't a great payment for all the damages but you seemed hungry so," Phil's wings folded back behind him as he reached for the apple in your palm. He thanked you for the apple as he took a bite out of it, "I've never seen Quackity like this, I knew he wanted Techno to pay but not like this."

Philza's eyes narrowed looking at you, "so why are you helping him? Quackity doesn't deserve anything, he's a psychopath. You can find a better friend than that, mate."

You stiffled a laugh with your sleeve making Philza cock his eyebrow at you, "oh sorry, just reminds me of something that an old... friend of mine used to say."

"You stopped yourself before you said friend, what's up with that mate?" Phil questioned, finishing the apple and tossing it behind him into the garbage.

"Just hurts to remember that's all," you didn't want to admit the truth, besides it had been so long, he probably forgot all about you at this point, "it's been so long, you think he even remembers me? It's been such a long time."

"Hey cheer up mate," Philza wrapped one of his wings around you, "here I'll make a deal with you. Help me out of here and save Techno and I'll help reunite you and this friend of yours."

Your eyes widened, nervousness hiding behind your eyes as you felt compelled to agree. Phil smiled at you looking around his chest before pulling out a creeper and a skeleton head, tossing you the skeleton head.

"How are you supposed to leave with those?" Philza looked down at his feet where you were pointing. The iron boots keeping him on house arrest keeping him in place.

"Thinking still about that," Philza looked back at the you, his eyes showing concentration but also worry, "at least Techno knows, I got one of my crows to send him a letter. It's gonna take them a while to get all the way to him, he has time to prepare himself." Phil smiled to himself staring at the creeper head, "we're gonna fucking tail them. I know where Techno lives, with or without a compass, I know."

"But the boots."

Phil let out a breath looking at you, "not like there's a tracker in them, they just can't know I left the house. We can hide in plain sight."

<><><><><>

It was about a few hours long of a journey making your way through the snow, the skeleton head proving to be quite the annoyance as you and Phil hid in the bushes staring at Techno's house where the group had formed. They seemed to be arguing with a ghost who kept switching from going inside and outside.

Than you saw him, Techno standing on his porch staring down at the butcher army and the ghost. He looked the same as he always did, a few new scars but nothing too noticeable. He still wore the robe you had made him, it brought a smile to your face seeing how regal he still looked wearing it.

The ghost seemed to notice you and Phil, waving over at you two while Phil tried to silently signal him to stop. Phil tapping on your shoulder to move to a less visible spot while you two easedropped on the conversation. The ghost continued to float over to you two, waving at Phil and giving him a piece of stake while Phil stayed silent.

Techno started to sprint in your direction as Quackity caught him explaining that he had to come with them.

"Techno isn't allowed in L'Manberg?" the ghost said with a quiet cry, apart of you felt bad for him, he seemed so confused and not able to understand the severity of the scene right now.

It was silent.

"I choose blood!" Techno yelled as he smashed potions onto the ground, making it difficult for you and Phil to see the action. All you could hear was Tubbo, Fundy, and Ranboo's screams while Quackity was trying to get a hold of the situation.

"Big Q do something! Big Q!!" Tubbo yelled, blocking Techno's axe with his shield being an inch from his face, "Big Q!"

"Stop!" Quackity yelled, he was riding what seemed to be a horse. You remembered that horse, it was the same horse that Techno used to go riding with you on. Carl you remembered his name was, the most important thing in the world to Techno was that horse.

Techno looked away from where he had Tubbo trapped, his eyes widening seeing Quackity holding Carl, "get away from that horse Quackity!"

"Drop everything, or I will kill this horse right in front of you," Quackity's eyes narrowed. Techno seemed conflicted before he dropped his axe, his armor, his robe, and his crown, allowing Fundy and Tubbo to restrain him.

Phil grabbed your arm pulling you with him, "come on, we have to get there before they do."

<><><><><>

Sitting in the seats like you were told to do when they returned, you waited for Technoblade's execution. The cage open for Techno's place and the anvil waiting to be dropped. Carl was tied to the fence by the dock while you watched Techno be shoved into the cage.

"When I hit that lever over there it is gonna drop and that anvil up there will kill you," Quackity explained while Techno looked up at the anvil hanging above him.

Tubbo made his way over to his stand where he would read Techno's rights before the execution. Tubbo fixed the mic to his height before speaking, "Technoblade has robbed our country of everything that made it special, everything that defined what it was. He stepped in when he shouldn't have. He created chaos, he ruined the government-"

Suddenly an enderpearl was thrown and Punz had appeared smashing potions on the ground before attacking. He dropped tnt on the ground that was quickly picked up before he started to attack the butcher army. You ran out of your spot towards Phil's house which had been boarded up once more.

"Technoblade," the ghost smiled looking up at the piglin hybrid, a blue sheep following him, "I've named him Friend."

"Hello Ghostbur," Techno said in his usual monotone voice, grabbing onto the bars of the cage, "that's fantastic Ghostbur, I'm about to die Ghostbur."

"Fuck it fuck it I'm pulling this lever," Quackity ran over to where the lever was, Techno understandable being confused as he tried to escape the cage. Phil pulling out his bow to try to stop them before Quackity pulled the lever.

It was like slow motion, your back was pressed against Phil's boarded up door as you watched the anvil fall. Techno staring up at the anvil that was coming closer and closer to crushing him. Ghostbur looking confused of the situation, not able to understand. Phil looking away not able to bare staring at his friend die.

But than he didn't...

Instead he jumped ontop of the anvil and out of the cage. Running over to Carl and jumping onto the horse's back riding away.

<><><><><>

You weren't sure what you were supposed to say. You were sitting in front of Quackity stitching up his face while he sat in silence, occasionally tensing up in pain from the needle piercing his skin. You sort of blamed yourself for what happened to Quackity even though it was Techno's pickaxe that did this.

It was a deep cut too, you knew his right eye would never work again from how it had glossed over into a pure white and Quackity had mentioned his vision going blurry in that eye. Once you were done stitching it up, Quackity looked up at you, "so when did you plan to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" you questioned standing up and putting your stuff away, sorting your potions. You really hoped Quackity wasn't hinting at what you think he was.

"About you and Technoblade..." Quackity's eyes narrowed at you when you froze, your fingers tapping on your table, "how you two used to be old buddy buddies? How you helped Philza escape? How you're only helping me because you think I'm gonna hurt Tubbo or Ranboo? Maybe how you fucking love Techno?!" By this point, Quackity had stood up and was right in front of you, you gulping seeing the anger showing in Quackity's eye. It reminded you how Schlatt used to treat you when you worked for him.

"Quackity I--"

"I bet you're so fucking happy to see me like this huh?" Quackity's hand flew its way to your throat, crushing your throat under his hand, "in fucking pain, only having one good eye left, huh? Was this all some kind of joke to you? Did I ever truly mean anything to you because I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe my friendship meant nothing? Bet your fucking terrified now."

You gasped for air, trying to push on Quackity's chest to get him to let go feeling yourself lose consiousness.

"I wish Schlatt fucking killed you in the van," Quackity let go of you pushing you down onto the ground, "get out of L'Manberg, I don't want to see your face in this town again or I will not hesitate to execute you and I won't fail this time at it either."

"But my stuff," you said once you regained air in your lungs.

"Not your stuff anymore, you're on your fucking own now," Quackity opened the door, "you have 10 minutes, I better not see your face again."

<><><><><>

With nowhere else to go, you decided to say hello to an old friend. You were absolutely freezing out here with absolutely nothing to defend yourself. You could only hope that he would want to see you or even remember you and all the times you two shared in the past. You felt like you were gonna turn into ice if you were outside for any longer as you knocked on the door.

But the door never opened and eventually you fell asleep, curled up on the porch by the door. You were slipping in and out of consiousness, you'd end up asleep for a few minutes than out again, falling asleep seemed to be the only thing that kept you warm.

Waking back up, you felt your vision be blurry and your head starting to spin. You couldn't even feel your limbs trying to hold onto your shaking cold body as you slowly felt yourself lose consiousness again.

In your frozen state, you felt a pair of arms pick you up, "it's okay I got you, come on come on, you're gonna be okay." You felt something heavy be wrapped around you and heard the door be opened, "come on, we need a fire. Y/N will freeze to death."

"We need to get them warm," you heard the ghost you had seen before say with the sound of a sheep being heard in response.

You felt yourself be dropped gently onto the ground in front of a fireplace, feeling the soft feel of wool curling up behind you along with the heavy robe.

"Will they be okay Techno?" Ghostbur asked the piglin hybrid who was staring down at you. Why had you come all the way out here? Especially at night and during a storm? That was practically a death sentence. He had no clue what would have happened and what he would have done if he was just a few minutes late, "Techno?"

"Go to bed Ghostbur," Techno said kneeling down onto the floor where you were in front of the fireplace curled up in Friend's wool.

"But ghosts don't sleep."

"Just give me some time alone, go play with Steve," Techno was trying to make up any kind of excuse he could to get a few minutes alone to himself to think. Ghostbur understood that he was not wanted right now and sadly nodded moving to outside where Steve was to give the bear company.

Techno looked down at you, his hand hesitantly going to your hair brushing the few strands you had in front of your face out of the way. He had missed you but knew that the separation was for your own safety but now he wasn't so sure being separated was the safest choice now.

Techno's eyes narrowed in curiosity looking at your neck, it'd almost seemed to be bruised as his eyebrows furrowed. He didn't want to assume anything so he decided to ask when you would wake as he smiles to himself, "I am not gonna lose you again."

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You woke up warm and feeling safe, a feeling you hadn't felt for a very long time. Your eyes fluttered open to seeing a blue sheep curled up against you and a polar bear on your other side, his head resting in your lap. The fire place in front of you was still burning brightly as you heard the sound of humming coming from the other room. You pulled yourself off the ground waking up the blue sheep who let out a baa following you.

You entered the other room where the humming was coming from and you were tackled in a hug by the ghost you had met. He smiled clinging to you.

"You're alive! You're alive! I don't even know you but you're alive!" Ghostbur laughed clinging onto you. You laughed hugging the ghost back. You looked over at the corner of the room over Ghostbur's shoulder noticing Techno sitting at a table, a book in his hands and glasses on the bridge of his nose, his tusks peaking out of his lips like usual.

"Morning," Techno said with his usual monotone voice marking the page in his book and take his glasses off. Ghostbur let go of you as you made your way over to the table sitting down, Techno's robe still over your shoulders, "you look very nice in my robe I must say."

"Thank you for saving my life," Techno nodded sliding a plate of potatoes over to you as you stiffled a laugh, "you still obsessed with potatoes huh?"

"Eh," Techno shrugged as Ghostbur skipped outside with Friend following him. Techno watched the door close, finally knowing Ghostbur was out of earshot he looked at you in all seriousness, "who put their hands on you."

You were caught off guard by Techno's question, looking at him, his eyes scanning your entire face trying to read your emotions, "no one, I just had a run in with some mobs, that's all."

"Oh so you're trying to tell me that a creeper grabbed you by the throat as such a rough grip to bruise? Come on Y/N, I've known you for how long and you think I'll fall for something like that?" it was obvious you couldn't just lie to Techno but at the same time, lying would cause less blood shed, "besides you wouldn't just run out of L'Manberg like that and almost have yourself killed if everything was fine, just spit it out."

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Because the person that I love just comes to my house out of nowhere after completely disappearing for a long time and almost dies at my door step and then I find bruises on their neck like someone had strangled them?!" Techno yelled catching you off guard. You had never seen Techno so mad at you before, sure you two had arguments in the past but this was different, he never raised his voice at you before.

Techno raised his hand to run his hand through his hair to calm himself down, however when you flinched seeing his hand go up, he froze. His hands dropping to his sides as he got up from the table and grabbed his axe before walking out the door.

You looked down at your hands, you didn't mean to flinch, it just happened, you didn't mean to scare him like that. You sighed dropping your face into your hands as you silently cried into your hands feeling Steve lay his head on your lap looking up at you.

"I gotta go boy," you scratched behind Steve's ear as you got off the chair, Steve following behind you as you went to the door, "no you have to stay here boy." Opening the door, you closed it before Steve could come out as you watched the bear jump up and look through the window of the door as you walked out.

The snow crunched under your feet as you started to walk away. You were meant to be alone. You thought coming back to Techno would make things better but all you did was make him think that you were scared of him.

You kept walking till you noticed less and less snow and noticed you were in a flower field. Your tears started to drop more as you looked at the flowers, it reminded you of the times you and Techno would spend in the flower fields together. You would sit in the grass picking flowers for different decor and dyes while Techno would tell stories of Greek mythology or his war stories. It didn't matter how many times you heard the same story, you loved to hear them everytime.

"Thought you might have wandered off to here," you vision snapped turning around to see Techno. He was just wearing his white button up, the first three button undone, his hair in a new braid. You remembered that you were the one that always braided his hair until you taught him to.

"Tech, I'm sorry-"

"Hush," Techno held up his hand moving over to you, his body towering over yours, "just tell me, please."

You looked down at the ground as Techno sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. You clung to his body as you felt the tears starting to well in your eyes, "it was Quackity. He found out about us and then he attacked me after I helped him treat that scar you gave him."

You felt Techno tense, "I wish I could kill that duck. I can't believe he'd put his hands on you like that."

"It's not the first time," you sighed out, hiding your face in Techno's chest. Techno asked you what you meant as you bit your lip, "during the L'Manberg war for independence, Dream had grabbed me when the van exploded and held me hostage for a few weeks until I got saved after L'Manberg became independant. Than I ended up working for Schlatt for a while when Wilbur and Tommy were exiled, I guess they never told you. Schlatt treated both me, Niki, and Quackity awfully, he taxed Niki till she was bankrupt, he would yell and shame Quackity, and then he'd grab me. It was worse when he found out I had opened the gates for Wilbur to get in Manberg, he almost killed me in a drunk rage inside the van. Than well, you know Quackity."

Techno sighed, "Y/N look at me."

You shook your head hiding your face in Techno's chest until he grabbed your chin making you look up at him.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

"I love you," you held onto Techno's hand as he smiled pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you too."

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[acdeaky]

to tell you the truth (i’m still in love with you)

warning: angst, fluff, mentions of sex

note: oscar isaac’s hot, no question. anyway, enjoy this, babies

word count: 3.3k

gif credit: @damerondjarin

it was dark out when you woke. the loud, incessant banging on the front door of your apartment had jerked you awake, and the minimal amount of lighting coming through the curtains let you know it was very early - or very late.

a part of you was tempted to roll back over under your sheets, pull them up to your chin and fall back asleep, but the knocking only seemed to become louder and more frequent.

you pulled off your covers and flicked on the small lamp by your bedside. your clock showed 2:43 as you shook your head and began to make your way through your small apartment to answer whoever thought it was a good idea to show up at your door right now.

you had an idea who it could be. there had been a few times when santiago had appeared on your doorstep in distress. on those occasions, you coaxed him inside with soft words and gentle touches as he pulled himself in on heavy feet, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders.

looking through your peephole, you knew this would be no different as you noticed the familiar stubble and greying hair of santiago’s, looking ever the same after three years. even after so long, you were who he crawled to, the only person who could calm the noise in his head.

the locks clicked as they were shifted, the hinges creaking afterwards as you pull the door open.

and, just as you knew, there he was. santiago’s usual, confident self was gone; even just looking at the way he held himself could tell you that. it almost looked like he was leaning against an invisible pole, his old stance gone, a new, tired one filling its place.

but he was here, and alive, and even after three years the only thing you could think of was-

“hi.” was all he said, a duffel bag by his feet and his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. 

“hi, welcome home.” you simply spoke, leaning against your doorframe, feeling like your heart was about the burst the longer you stood and looked at him. 

“do you know?” there was a slight quiver to his voice and his head dipped down from yours. “do you know where i went?” 

“frankie told me. when you left that night, i waited a couple of days for you to come back. then i asked fish if he knew where you were and he said you were in south america. i asked when you’d be back and he didn't know. i didn't expect you to be back three years later.”

you could almost remember that day, as clear as if it happened yesterday. the night before he left, your best friend, santiago garcia, invited himself to your apartment - like many nights - and brought dinner. he laid the excuse as wanting to spend time with you, have a night like you used to (even though it had only been a week or so since you last did something like this together). 

but santiago didn't take no for an answer; he let himself through the door and began pulling out containers of food and a couple of bottle of drinks. you welcomed it pleasantly, happy to be spending a night with just him, just santi, no tom or benny or will or frankie. no comments about your relationship, no teasing over your choice of drink (or teasing in general, which santiago would always reply with ‘they mean well’, and you know they do). 

a few hours later, the food was gone and you had both had a few drinks. the sun was settling down on the horizon and, if you looked carefully, you could begin to see the moon creeping up behind it. the red and orange sky covered your open room with light, bringing in a peaceful glow with it. the light settled on santiago, like it was used to his body and the dips and bumps covering him. 

he looked like a vision, ethereal. a beautiful dream which you had experienced so many times and you were selfish enough to only want to see it yourself for the end of time. you believed no one would appreciate it like you do, no one would find the same amount of beauty as you find in santiagoas he lets himself bask in the light. 

neither of you had realised that you had moved closer to each other over the course of the evening. you had started on almost opposite sides of the sofa, but now found your thighs pressed against the other’s, you shoulders bumping into each other’s as you moved. 

santiago’s music was playing in the background. at some point - god knows when - he had gone into the kitchen and, as he came back, the soft notes of his favourite song floated from the speakers and settled around you two. he handed you another drink, sitting back onto the sofa and leaning slightly towards you, his arm slung across the back cushions. his hand landed on your shoulder, and his fingers began drawing light patterns across your skin while he conversed with you. 

it was something that rarely happened. santiago had done this with you before, that being eating, drinking and relaxing, allowing the music to pull you from the real world as you talked until the early hours. never been so close and intimate. at the time, you thought nothing of it as his lips came to meet yours in a delicate attempt at confessing his feelings. 

the words “i've fallen in love with you” escaping his lips as they ghosted against yours, his breath hot and sticky against your skin as you replied, “i've fallen in love with you, too”.

santiago made you feel things you'd never felt before that night. he touched you with softness behind it, allowing his lips to travel wherever they could reach before picking you up off the sofa and trekking through the apartment to your room. 

the two of you spent the night together filling it with passion, giggled and delicate kisses. neither of you could get enough of one another. to you, he tasted so good, like nothing you've ever endured before, something good and amazing and so characteristically santiago. to him, you tasted like home, a forever presence that he refused to get rid of. 

and he really didn't want to. 

come morning, the sheets beside you were cold and pulled back. the couple of bits he haphazardly threw on the bedside table the night before were gone and so were the clothes you remember tugging from his body. the only thing he left was his jacket; it was the one you loved on him, that smelt like him. alongside it was a note, the words ‘i love you, but there's something i have to do’ were carefully engraved on the paper. 

that's when you waited. you gave santiago a few days to do whatever it was before you turned to frankie. that was a difficult conversation in itself and you could tell that frankie was as confused and conflicted as you were. he offered you an answer, more than santiago had given you, and a response to a question that no one in the world could answer, not even santiago. 

“i'm sorry-” 

“santi,” you stopped him, not wanting to do this - whatever it was - on the doorstep of your apartment at almost three in the morning. “do you - its late - but do you wanna come in?”

santiago looked back up at you, seeing your warm smile and kind eyes, something he had missed for the last three years. “yeh- yes, please.” you gave him a light nod, stepping further back into your apartment to give him space to pull himself through with his duffle bag. 

even after three years, he was still your santi. the cap he adorned was one you had spotted and persuaded him to buy; one which he had worn almost every single day since he went away. the jacket was new, one to replace his other one, but it fit him well, allowing his broad shoulders a chance to be seen. the colour suited him, too, a dark navy blue. 

he was heavy on his feet as he entered, shuffling around like he was a stranger in a foreign country as he thought about where was best to leave his bag. that had been his life for the past three years; everything he had and knew lived in there while he was deep in the jungles of south america. 

much to his surprise, he came back unscarred, physically at least. of course, his knees had taken a hit during his - mission? - and the neck surgery he gotten gotten the year before hadn't helped much either. but aside from that, he would be fine, so long as the nightmares were kept at bay, no one would think any different of santiago. 

but you weren't just anyone. you had seen santiago in his most vulnerable states, in every sense of the phrase. there was almost nothing you didn't know about him, but now, there was a large part of him you were a stranger to. without even knowing a tiny part of what had happened, you knew the santiago who was currently in front of you, sweaty hands and shaking nerves, was a different man to the one who left you three years ago. 

three years. god, santiago had changed, as had you. you had never been with someone since. many people had tried to win your affection, attempting to entice you with the promise of dinner and a sense of forever, but you didn't want that anyone but him, a man who was on a completely different continent and who had probably had many others beside him in his bed since that one night. 

regardless of how he had acted out there, your love never faltered, unlike your hope for his return. the light inside of you which had been sparked by santiago’s promise of love had quickly diminished when you began to believe that he would never come home. 

but you wouldn't think any different of him. he just didn't know that. 

“can i-”

“i'm sorry for-” you both began, santiago seemingly wanting to smooth things out above anything else. “you go.”

“no, no, it’s okay. i just- do you wanna sit?” he nodded, watching your finger point towards your sofa in the open space. it was the one where that night began, but most definitely didn't end. you knew that. he knew that. but you weren't offering a seat in a malicious way, wanting to see him squirm and suffer while making him remember what happened that night, you could see that he was tired. it was the least you could do. 

so santiago took your offer, turning away from you in a vain attempt at calming himself down. that wouldn't happen until things were sorted, until he felt that you knew everything. he just wanted to say- 

“what happened?” you whispered into the quiet, turning on a small light to light up the room. it glowed over the sofa, settling around your bodies as you moved to sit down next to santiago, not completely ready for how long this could take. 

but he was. santiago knew everything that happened in those years and it would not take a few minutes to tell. there was too much to say and almost not enough time. 

the story began with his time colombia, working for the police as a private military advisor. next came lorea and santiago’s escapades with his informant in search for the drug lord. he explains the house - the safe - and the job, how he roped benny and tom and will and frankie into helping him with the job. 

he didn't even make it through the mountains - tom. 

and something about the night feels strangely familiar. with the two of you, sat there, being shielded from the world only by your thin curtains, it felt like home. familiarity. the thing that seemed to have left you three years ago and escaped to south america.

your bodies were pressed into each other’s sides, the feeling of just another person being there after so long brings about comfort in the both of you. a warm, calloused hand of his sat in the both of yours, a thumb gently rubbing over the back of his hand.

somehow, your eyes were trained to santiago’s head throughout his story, never leaving his body for a second in case you missed something, anything. as for him, his eyes never left your joined hands, watching the delicacy of your movements, concentrating his sight on something so small, but so significant to him.

it was silent for a few moments after he finished. santiago kept his head down, watching the comfort on his hands, whereas your eyes were darting over his entire body, taking him in, thinking how much you had missed him.

“i’m so sorry, santi.” your voice was quiet, like earlier, only just drifting from your mouth and into his ears. that’s when he moved, shaking his head before looking up at you, finally meeting your eyes for the second time in years.

“no, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have just up and left like that, especially after what happened the night before.” there was a small smile on your face at that reminder and you hadn’t even noticed the quiver in his voice.

“it’s okay,” one of your hands left his thigh, moving upwards to cup santiago’s cheek, the stubble a little longer than usual. “you’re here now, and everything will be okay.”

his eyes closed as you allowed yourself this time to look at him. there was exhaustion buried deep inside of his skin, the usual relaxed look that he held whenever he closed his eyes was gone. it seemed that only a shell of the man you used to know came back from south america.

but you knew he was there. you knew your santiago was there, underneath it all. that’s why you held him. and that’s why you’d continue to hold him for as long as he needed you to.

without much thinking, you leaned closer to him, pressing your lips against his for only a second. an innocent kiss, much different to the ones you two had shared before he left, but it meant more to you both than either of you could describe.

then, as delicate as ever, one of his hands reached up to join your own, his large palm completely covering the back of yours. “come on,” you whispered, your free hand moving to card through his unruly curls. “let’s get you to bed.”

a slight nod was your only answer, that and the lack of resistance he gave you your hands grabbing his and helping him up from the sofa. everything stayed where it landed, neither you nor santiago making any effort to grab his bag and pull it into your room.

it almost seemed domestic. almost. as you crawled back under your covers, santi stripped off his jacket, leaving him in just a dark t-shirt. his jeans followed, the metal of the buckles clashing together as he pulled them off. the hat was last, being placed gently on your chest of drawers before he made his way over to you.

like usual, you welcomed him, pulling back the covers just enough for him to slip under, shuffling his body closer to yours. as he laid on his back, you took the silent invitation to press into his side. just as any other time, your head rested on his chest, both of your arms wrapping around the other’s body.

santiago let out a deep breath, his chest rising and falling so slowly it felt like you let one out, too. maybe you did, but it wasn’t important with where you were and who you were with in that moment. he was finally home, back and safe in your arms and not in a godforsaken dark corner of the narcotics war.

you fell back asleep to the steady beat of his heart, his hands running up and down your skin as he tries to soothe himself to sleep. eventually he does, well after you, but he feels safe this time, being back in your arms doing wonders for his mind.

it felt as if it had only been a few moments, but it wasn’t long before you could feel the rise and fall of santiago’s chest again, but this time on your back. the warmth of his breath on the nape of your neck was calming, that and the warmth of his hand over your exposed skin.

“we should get up, honey.” he says delicately, his voice rough with sleep, dry sounding, and you can feel him behind you, his eyes just barely opening as he decides to start his day. you feel guilty that you wish he wasn't awake, even as he reaches closer, an arm tightening around your waist as the other slips between the pillows and your head, reaching out for your hand as your other lands on his forearm, affectionate, loving. 

there was no use in pretending you weren't awake, your need to touch him, to feel him and know he was there and not in some god forsaken place in colombia, too great to even attempt to stay in his arms longer. 

“we shouldn't.” you mutter, turning your head to press into his skin, soft, warm. your fingers danced across his bronzed skin, keeping your lips pressed against his bicep as you did so.

santiago was complacent behind you, not even bothering to attempt to stay true to his words as he reveled in you, your warmth, your love, the exact thing he had missed all these years. his breath was still warm on the back of your neck, his lips only ghosting over your skin. even after last night, after the sacred kisses and emotions you’d shared, this is what stumped him.

it was only a few minutes later when you twisted onto your back, your hand leaving santi’s as you shifted to face him instead of hiding away. the hand that had left his own cradled his exposed cheek, your thumb carressing the delicate skin.

the beautiful brown eyes you love were still hidden by sleep-ridden eyelids. the only indication that he was awake being the small smile that adorned his face as you continued your ministrations, your own eyes flittering over his features like he would disappear, again.

“are you still in love with me?” he asked, breaking the silence without even opening his eyes to look at you, “after everything i’ve done?” his voice was so quiet, so petrified of your response, especially when that gentle hand stopped moving. god, never stop holding him like that.

“i’ve always been in love with you, santiago,” you assured him, guiding your hand to the back of his head to pull him even closer to you, fingers tangling in his short curls, “i don’t think i can ever stop.”

“can i tell you the truth?” his eyes finally met yours, confidently shifting the hand on your hip around you to press flat against your back, bringing your chests closer, bringing you closer.

“please.” it was a whisper, a beg, your plea for him to tell you what you already knew.

“i’m still in love with you.”

-

if anyone wants to be tagged in my oscar writing, let me know!

taglist: @shes-over-bored @i-barely-go-on-online @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @goldhoran @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedustmazzello @deakysgurl @forever-rogue @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawings @igotsuckedintothevoid @kill4hqueen @supersonicfreddie @laedymoon @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86 @boomerangbassist @mamaskillerqueen​ @bhxrdy

santiago taglist: @stardust-galaxies @kindablackenedsuperhero

people who i think may like: @damerondjarin @unstoppableforcce @starryeyedstories @sergeantkane @youvebeenlivingfictional @writefightandflightclub @anetteaneta

[knickynoo]

I’ve seen a surprising amount of people headcanon Marty to struggle with body image and *tw ed* disordered eating so I was wondering if you had any thoughts about that/agree or disagree/headcanons about that

I've also seen this theory floating around on here and reddit and it's one of those headcanons that I don't really have much to say about, to be honest. I guess because I can't see any traits or behaviors Marty exhibits that would hint at an eating disorder?

Some people mention that we don't really see him eat during the trilogy, but we also don't see Doc/a lot of the other characters eat either. A character sitting and eating a whole meal is usually just one of those details an audience is supposed to assume happened "between" other scenes. And, for what it's worth, we do see Marty eat that chocolate by his bed and I think we see him eating some of the pie at the festival in part III. Kid's just got a sweet tooth, it seems.

As for some of the other points people make with the headcanon, I've seen Marty's tendency to be layered up and general self-esteem issues brought up as their evidence. The self-esteem issues are a given, and I think most teens struggle at some point or another with feeling dissatisfied with the way they look. So, I mean, it's totally possible Marty feels a little bit of that, though I don't see anything in the movies that points to it. The layered clothes is something I just chalk up to being his personal style (though it does also play a role in my "Marty has ADHD" headcanon because it could be a sensory/pressure thing). But I also acknowledge that's a stretch considering how often we see him in short sleeves, and he seems to be fine with it.

Basically, I don't subscribe to the headcanon, but I don't necessarily agree or disagree with it. If anything, it intrigues me, since it's one of those takes I don't really "get" but have read about several times from others.

Thanks for the ask!

[cruciatusforeplay]

This is part two of a hella big post. Check out part one here. These are all a lot more recent, so I'm gonna try to be less spoilery, but there are gonna be some.

A not-so-brief history of Hawkeye in Comics Part Two (spoilers below the cut)

A note on events, dying and doubling down on Hawkeyes

Comics love doing big events, and I'm not covering them in here. Partly because they are huge and complex and to just focus on Hawkeye would be an injustice to the stories, but also because the amount of stuff I would need to spoil would be way beyond just a little Hawkeye. Clint was involved in Secret Wars (1984), which was one of the first crossover events of its kind. Another notable era is 2004-2009, where there is an incredible amount of superhero politics driving big narratives. If you're new to comics, you might not know that characters dying is common and rarely permanent. This is relevant because while I said that I wouldn't talk about events, I think it would be pretty uncool to not mention that Hawkeye dies and is brought back to life (Avengers Disassembled, House of M, New Avengers #26). It's around here that Clint picks up the Ronin mantle.

This is also when Dark Reign/Dark Avengers is going on. For anyone who'd like some Clint whump from this era, there's a top notch naked torture scene in New Avengers Annual (2009). Clint is involved in several other big events and crossovers over later years, but that's definitely a seperate list.

In the time where Clint is dead, Captain America is hanging out with a group of newly formed Young Avengers, including archery badass Kate Bishop. Cap suggests to her that she take up the Hawkeye mantle and gives her Clint's old bow. After Clint returns, he becomes initially her mentor, before they form a very close friendship. Clint is initially doing Ronin things, but even when he lays down ninja robes, they decide to be very Hawkeye about the whole thing and both keep calling themselves Hawkeye, despite the obvious confusion this causes.

Hawkeye's ears: Hawkeye vs. Deadpool #0-4 (2014)

This is a fun little miniseries that you could treat as a Halloween special if you so desired. It's set in the time after Fraction's run and there are a few callbacks, but nothing major if you've not read that. Clint is a little short-tempered and hypermasculine in this run for my personal taste, but it's got lots of grumpy Clint Vs sassy Wade while they vaguely attempt to team up. The thing this run does really well is Clint's deafness, despite the lack of visible hearing aids. There are comments around lip-reading, wearing aids when wearing other headgear, there's some sign language, and this is the run where Deadpool pulls his mask up so Clint can lipread and see his face while he signs (facial expressions are really key in sign language). It's lovely. Otherwise the run gives you a Kate cameo, some Deadpool and Hawkeye disaster/shenanigans, and perhaps most importantly, the return of the skycycle.

Key background: All New Hawkeye #1-6 (2015)

This run is often overlooked, but the art in the flashbacks is beautiful. We get some key information around Clint and Barney's abusive home situation - with their dad who drank and beat them, and how they ended up in care after their parents died, and subsequently their early days in the circus. There is a definite shift in how Barney is characterized as a bad influence compared to the 2003 run. It parallels with the rest of the arc which focuses on Clint and Kate Bishop working together to get some kids out of a very bad situation. The rest of Lemires run is a little weird and has no major repurcussions for anyone except Barney (which I won't elaborate on because it's relevant to the Fraction run).

Back to your roots: Tales of Suspense #100-104 (2017)

Seeing Clint cycle back and return to Tales of Suspense is really lovely. This comic is one of my all time favourites. It's incredibly tight story-telling with a great plot and really fun dynamic. The premise is Clint and Bucky teaming up to figure out the body trail being left after Black Widow's death. Clint is obnoxious and a delightful mess, Bucky is sporting a permanent scowl and is hilariously level-headed. It's a lot of fun and it's a lovely build on the tension and teamwork between these two idiots (who I, as an avid Winterhawk shipper, am completely gone for, but even without that, this is a great comic.) It also has some killer covers, and the facial expressions are absolutely hilarious.

Hawkeyes together: Hawkeye #13-16 (2017) and West Coast Avengers #1-10 (2018)

The Hawkeye run is Kate Bishops run and it has a larger continuing storyline that runs from the beginning of her Hawkeye and way into WCA, but I've listed the issues that you'll want for Kate and Clint shenanigans, and you should be able to catch up without the rest if you don't want it. These comics are ridiculously fun, especially West Coast Avengers, which has Kate leading the team this time. There's loads of jokes, and it strikes a nice balance between Hawkeyes being disasters and being hyper competent. Truthfully, this is Kate's show, and Clint takes a backseat, but their dynamic is killer here so I think is deserves a mention. There are also plenty of Clint related wardrobe malfunctions and Lucky the Pizza Dog is around.

Our most recent boy: Hawkeye freefall #1-6 (2020)

I haven't read this one yet, but it's been extremely well received by the fandom. As a result, good news: no spoilers! It's a short run, which may have had something to do with it being published during 2020, and specifically around a time when Marvel were experiencing some major distribution issues (which would have led to digital release only and as a result lower sales), but that's all guesswork because I haven't actually researched it. This run has someone dressing as Ronin and letting Clint take the blame for their nefarious deeds (oh no!). Clint makes some classic Clint (read: dumpster fire) decisions, and the art looks fun and vibrant. Can't really give you more without reading it myself 😅 If you need more Clint still, he's also rumoured to be knocking around in the 2020 Black Widow run, but I've not had the money to get my mitts on that yet either.

Notable AUs:

Marvel is a big fan of throwing a well known cast into an alternative universes, so there are a few other places to look for him.

The Ultimates universe was largely speaking a bit of a shitshow, but they did give us a very dark and gritty Clint, so if that's your jam, ultimate hawkeye is the place to be. Old Man Hawkeye appears alongside Old Man Logan, and they are both, you guessed it, old. It's not the only time we get Clint as a wrinkly dude (the second half Lemire's run also has some timey-wimey stuff happening), but this is a version of Clint who is going blind (granted we've seen that before too, but this is a darker vibe than Blindspot). Wanna know who the greatest marksman is without his sight - old man Hawkeye for you! Finally there's the Zombie 'verse: zombie Clint is a little confused, but he's got the spirit. Clint got zombiefied and then left in some rubble as only a head for 40 years before getting picked up, so he's a little worse for wear. If you need that in your life then Marvel Zombies is your universe. For a full rundown of all the universes including animated and MCU, click here.

Notable aliases:

Clint's been a few other people than Hawkeye in the 616 universe (the main Marvel Comics universe). He used one of Hank Pyms growth serums and became a giant strongman in Avengers #63 (1969) and stuck around in his Goliath form for more than a few issues. After Cap had died, Clint returned from the dead and tried on Captain America for all of one issue in Fallen Son #3 (2007). He decided (with a little help from Kate) that it wasn't right to wear the uniform, which in turn led to some interesting tension between him and Bucky Barnes when Buck did become the new Captain America. Finally, there's his most well-known alternate persona: Ronin. Clint becomes Ronin after returning from the dead, wanting a break from his Hawkeye persona and an opportunity to become Ronin arises in New Avengers #27 (2007). Clint is not the only person to have used these aliases. Additionally, Hawkeye has been used not only by Clint and Kate Bishop, but also by Bullseye during the Dark Reign.

The things we haven't talked about

Like I said at the very beginning, there is a lot of Clint Barton knocking around in comics and even with all this there's a lot of content I haven't focused on. For instance, I've not talked a lot about his relationships, beyond his marriage to mockingbird (and really I only scratched the surface with that), and honestly once you start getting into interpersonal relationships we're starting to move on from what can be done in a Tumblr thread.

There are also some topic specific threads floating around, which you might like to look at too.

@vaguelyrotten has done a run down of some great dumpster fire Clint Barton comics (some of which I haven't listed) and you can see that here.

@bobbimorses did a great summary of Clint's historical deafness for instance which you can find here.

There's also this little bit all about Clint and Bucky in canon (thanks to @nightwideopen ) and how Winterhawk became a thing (thanks to @1000-directions )

This is slight sidenote, but @clintscoffeepot did a really great comprehensive of Fraction Clint's apartment which is just a really useful writing resource and you can get that here.

There is also this website which I stumbled across fairly far into writing this post which does actually look like it might be comprehensive.

If I've missed anything major, or listed something incorrectly or you just have some Clint related opinions that I need to know about, do hit me up.

[wastelandcth]

we are one together, one apart - cth

summary: calum and dovey say i do. 

author’s notes: happy holidays everyone! bet you didn’t see this one coming, huh? i hope you enjoy this, probably one of my favorite pieces i’ve written. also the track mentioned in this is here. 

masterlist || request || more doves

Calum had woken up alone, something he knew would be different soon enough. The view out his hotel window was like he'd still been dreaming. A blanket of snow covered the fields outside the hotel grounds, making the early morning seem even quieter than it was. He'd opened the doors to the balcony, letting the cold air in as he closed his eyes and took in the moment of tranquility. He knew that it was only a matter of minutes before his room was bustling with people getting him ready and early morning drinks were used to calm nerves, so he was going to take in all the quietness the morning offered him and the snow falling outside. 

The steam from the shower had mixed with the cold air of the outside in Calum's hotel room, snowflakes gathered around the doorway to his balcony. The cold and the warm joining to become one, making the room humid and the curls on Calum's forehead puff up as he looked into his own eyes in front of the mirror with a towel around his waist. His skin was steaming, rays of steam floating above his golden skin as he tried his best to calm the unruly curls from falling into his eyes. Calum had stood under the hot stream of water, letting his last moments as a single man be those where he thought about the one he was going to marry in a matter of hours, the smile never leaving his face. 

The next few hours passed in a blur for him, his groomsmen had shown up, holding bottles of champagne and more food than Calum could imagine all of them would get through. He'd sipped from the crystal glass while his hair was fixed and then another one to calm his nerves once he was all dressed up and he found himself once again looking into his own brown eyes. He found himself alone in the ballroom where his life would change forever, where he'd go from being just a boyfriend or fiancé to a husband. Where his soul would become one with Dovey's and he couldn't be more ready. 

The ballroom itself was beautiful, large windows brought in the soft morning light that the snow seemed to allow to flourish on that day, flowers left sweet scents around the room as Calum walked around. He could see parts of himself and Dovey in every decoration, from the chairs that had fabric embroidered with two small doves wrapped around them to the cloak Calum was wearing around his shoulders to honor his culture, the one he'd place on Dovey near the end of the ceremony to show how his love would always envelop her. 

In the blink of an eye, Calum was stood at the end of the aisle, glancing at the loved ones who had come to celebrate with him and Dovey. He saw his parents, both of them with a look Calum had only seen on them a few times. He saw Dovey's family, who seemed to be on the edge of their seats while they waited to see the bride, much like Calum was. It wasn't until he heard the familiar arrangement of strings and trumpets that Dovey had sent him a few months back, one of her favorite songs that she had told him was the one she'd be walking down the aisle to, that the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Calum had closed his eyes at some point, getting lost in the strings before he heard people shuffling, everyone trying to get a better look at Dovey. 

One thing Calum was never told about getting married was how he'd forget how to breathe. How when he laid eyes on the love of his life at the other end of the aisle he'd forget about everything else and that his brain would go blank at the beauty before him. They never told him that he would be at a loss for words as he watched his soulmate walk down the aisle all while tears flowed down his cheeks. No one had told Calum that the first breath he'd take after seeing his soon-to-be wife would feel like he'd been stuck underwater on the verge of drowning and Dovey had been the one to pull him out with a soft squeeze of his hand. 

"I love you." Calum had whispered, leaning into Dovey's touch as she wiped away a few stray tears that had managed to stick to his bottom lashes. "You look ethereal, sweet girl." 

The ceremony had passed in moments Calum would remember throughout the night, like when Dovey's eyes filled with tears as he pulled the cloak that was adorned with memories of back home and his family over her shoulders. He would also remember how he'd never felt more in love while he slipped the gold band over Dovey's finger, the shaky breath that had left him hidden by the soft music the band had seemed to never stop playing. The one thing that Calum would never forget was when they exchanged vows, how the paper in Dovey's hand shook with her, and how he held on to every word she whispered to him. 

"Sometimes it feels like I've known you all my life. Like you've always been with me and I think that fate had a reason to bring us together." Dovey had started, her voice brimmed with adoration as she looked into Calum's eyes, "I'm glad that you let me be myself around you and that, in turn, I get to see you be yourself around me. You're such a force to be reckoned with, I'll never be able to understand it, but I swear to always be overdramatic and true to you, my Dove." 

Calum had barely gotten through her speech without shedding a few more tears, his hands shaking in hers as he took a deep breath and tried to summon up the courage to say everything he'd written months before when he couldn't sleep and all he could think about was Dovey. How the crinkled piece of paper in his pocket had been with him ever since the night he'd written it on a bunk traveling to a city he'd wished Dovey could've joined him on. 

"We are one when together, we are one when parted. I don't know how the stars ever thought to bless me with you. How they saw me and thought I could ever be loved and adored by your force and soul. But every night, whether I'm with you or whether I'm thousands of miles away, I thank the stars for bringing me to you. I live for you, I long for you, Dovey." he'd whispered to her, feeling light now that he'd told his bride the words that had been stuck in his brain for months, years even. 

Calum heard the cheers, heard the clapping, and he heard the trumpets, something he'd have to praise Dovey for later on because they had sounded as magical as she said they would. But it all seemed to blur in the back of his mind as he leaned his forehead against Dovey's and closed his eyes, letting the tips of their noses rub together for a few seconds before their lips met. It was a short kiss, he knew there would be longer ones later that day, but it was a kiss he'd never forget. A kiss that was applauded and a kiss that had trumpets ringing out behind him, a kiss that made Calum was a husband and made Dovey his wife. 

taglist:  @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @nicebasscalum@mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop

[laprincesaelena]

EOA Discord Ship Appreciation Week Day 3: Growing Old Together

a/n: hey everyone! sorry i’m a day late on this one, once i start writing something, i tend to like, not stop, and that’s what happened with today’s fic lol, it took me much longer than i expected! but, regardless, here it is! today’s fic is a bit different, focusing on a different couple (though, there are mentions of gabelena lol, but you could always fill in gabe’s name with your character of choice :) ), our beloved king raúl and queen lucía!!

basically, this fic is a what if. what if the king and queen of avalor’s story had gone slightly differently? what if king raúl and queen lucía hadn’t even left to work on the carnaval floats before shuriki arrived? in this au, raúl and lucía receive the happy ending they deserve, and they live to see many more family moments and milestones than they would in canon.

(also, for the sake of the fic, let’s just say in this au, avalor gains a new ruler once the heir becomes of age, not when the current ruler dies. okay? okay :) )

anyways, before i do exactly what i did while writing this and write wayyy too much, i’ll stop myself here. a quick thank you to everyone who’s been liking, reblogging, and leaving wonderful comments on my fics so far, you don’t know how happy they make me!! and a very special thank you to @procrastinateland , for providing the beautiful art to go along with the fic!! hope you all enjoy!!

fic is below the cut!

“Got everything, cariño?”

The queen of Avalor was busy packing the carriage with boxes full of colorful decorations to decorate their latest float for the upcoming Carnaval celebrations. Carnaval was Lucía's favorite time of year, and she always looked forward to designing, building, decorating, and of course, riding aboard the kingdom's infamous Carnaval parade floats. She and her husband, King Raúl, were headed to Castillo Park to check up on the progress of the floats, and to add a few touches to their own.

"Yes, yes, everything's here!"

One could barely see the king steadily walking down the steps of the palace, for he was carrying a stack of boxes that rose to practically over his head. Lucía couldn't help but shake her head as she turned to see this sight, and met him at the bottom of the stairs to help him out. She reached up to take the box at the top of the stack, revealing her husband's face behind it.

"Need a little help there?" she joked.

"I may have underestimated my balancing skills.." Raúl replied, beginning to place the rest of the boxes in the carriage. "But luckily, everything arrived in one piece!"

"We aren't even to the park yet, don't speak too soon!" Lucía responded.

"Have fun, you two!"

The royal couple turned to the sound of Luisa's voice, who stood at the door of the palace with her husband, Francisco, and Princess Isabel, who was waving goodbye to her parents. The two waved back, and Lucía blew a kiss to her youngest daughter.

"Thank you!" Lucía called to them. "We'll see you at dinner!"

Just as the king and queen were about to step into the carriage, the sky suddenly began to turn gray. Large clouds rolled in, some of them having a dark green hue to them. Raúl protectively wrapped his arm around his wife as they stepped back, trying to get a sense as to what was going on.

Suddenly, floating out of the green haze, emerged a figure. The closest royal guards rushed to step in front of the monarchs, their swords drawn, ready to protect their rulers at any given moment.

Lucía tightly held onto her husband, and noticed how his face began to grow pale. As the shadowy figure approached, Raúl instantly recognized their identity.

"Shuriki.." he whispered.

At the very sound of her name, Lucía could feel her heart sink. For the past few months, Avalor had been involved in various defenses alongside their allied kingdoms against the wicked sorceress. Thankfully, all of these efforts against her had been successful, and Shuriki had not been able to take over any of these kingdoms. But as it turned out, Avalor was the next target on her list, and they were gravely unprepared.

"Everyone, inside! Now!" The voice of the captain of the guard echoed throughout the courtyard as the royal family quickly made their way into the safety of the palace. But they knew a few troops were no match for Shuriki, she could infiltrate the palace in a matter of minutes. A plan had to be put in place, now, or Avalor didn't stand a chance.

For little Isabel, all of this happened in the blink of an eye. One moment, she was waving goodbye to her parents on the palace steps, now her and her family were running for their lives, having mere moments to reach a safe haven. A moment later, the princess had a sudden realization. Her abuelos were here, her mamí and papí were here, but one member of her family was nowhere to be found.

"Elena!" she called. "Where's Elena?"

Raúl had been calling out orders to royal guards and staff members as they rushed through the halls, but hearing his eldest daughter's name immediately shifted his strong demeanor. His Elenita was nowhere to be found, and was possibly unaware of the danger she was in. He frantically looked around for a moment, hoping Elena would miraculously appear.

"Elena!" he called, quickly checking in each room they passed. "Elenita!"

Lucía too, joined in on the frantic search for her daughter, but a moment later, she felt just the slightest bit of hope.

"The amulet!" she cried. "The amulet, the one we gave her for her birthday last year, will always protect her from harm!"

"But what if this sort of magic is an exception?" Raúl asked, fearing the worst. "Or what if she doesn't have the amulet on? We have to find her, Lucía!"

"Ay, don't put those thoughts in my head, cariño!" Lucía replied. "I hope we find her before we escape, I truly don't want to leave without her, but she has magical protection, we don't! Hopefully this will all be settled before we even need to escape, so we can-"

But before the queen could finish her sentence, a magical blast was heard from behind them. Shuriki was closer than they thought, they had absolutely no time to waste. The royal family picked up their pace, before they encountered their royal wizard, Alacazar.

"Come, come quickly!" he called out to them. "I have a spell to protect you! But we must perform it now, or it will be too late!"

The royal family had no time to decide on where their hiding spot would be, or where they would escape to if Shuriki did manage to take the throne. Their safest and fastest option was Alacazar's spell, so that would have to do. The wizard quickly explained that this spell would protect them inside of an enchanted painting, one that not even magic as powerful as Shuriki's could touch. As the family posed together for their 'portrait', Lucía couldn't help but think of her oldest daughter. In her final moments outside of the frame, she prayed for Elena's safety, that the amulet would protect her from harm, and that once Avalor was freed from the wicked sorceress, their family could be safely reunited. The Castillo-Flores family held each other close as the incantation was recited, and a moment later, a new family portrait, with one missing princess, was displayed on the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

41 years later...

"Tlahcuilolli apartad, tlahcuilolli apareced, tlahcuilolli vivid!"

Elena bit her lip and clasped her hands tightly together as she watched Mateo recite the spell that would hopefully free her family from the enchanted painting. She had missed her family so much being separated from them for forty one years, and so hoped that she'd be able to finally reunite with them.

A moment later, a magical haze encircled the painting, and soon, the silhouettes of her family were pulled out of the portrait. Once the haze had cleared, Elena saw her family, safe and sound, as if no time had passed at all. Tears of relief filled her eyes as she ran right over to her family, being met by a tight embrace by her little sister.

"Isa!" she cried as she held her sister close. "Oh, I've missed you so much.." Elena then pulled back, just to take in this moment that she'd been dreaming of for so long. Isabel was still the adorable, intelligent, and innocent little girl she had last seen all those years ago, even down to the dirt stains on her dress.

Then, Elena looked up at her parents, who looked just as relieved to finally be free and reunited with their family.

"Mamí, Papí!" she exclaimed, and pulled them both in for a hug.

"Oh, Elenita.." Raúl said, holding his baby girl close. He feared if he let her go one more time, he would never see her again.

Lucía too felt her eyes fill with tears as she embraced her daughter for the first time in decades. "We were so worried about you, mija.." she said, before cupping her daughter's face in her hands. "You're alright..you're safe..the amulet really did protect you!"

"It did.." Elena replied with a nod, placing a hand on top of her mother's.

Elena then wrapped her abuelos in a hug, she had missed all of her family so, so much, and it felt so good to finally be reunited with them. But, Shuriki was still on the throne, their fight for the kingdom wasn't over just yet.

After a short but sweet family reunion, Elena, along with the Enchancian and Avaloran royal families, made their way onto jaquins to join the revolution stirring in the villages below. With the help of the brave people of Avalor, the forty one year reign of Queen Shuriki was brought to an end. Avalor was finally free once again, and the royal family was reunited for good. It was the happiest day in all of Avalor, and kingdom would rejoice for weeks on end. That day, it seemed as if life couldn't get any better. But, the kingdom's most prosperous and happy years were yet to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four years later..

Raúl and Lucía stood proudly beside the Avaloran throne, in a ballroom filled with dignitaries, family, and friends from all over the world. Their beautiful Elenita was turning twenty years old today, but that wasn't the only event the kingdom was celebrating. After four years of experience as Crown Princess, along with learning plenty about ruling from her parents and grandparents, Elena was finally ready to become queen of Avalor.

Trumpets sounded to announce the princess' arrival, as the chief of the castle announced, "Crown Princess Elena Castillo Flores, please come forward!"

The doors to the ballroom were opened, revealing the future queen. Elena was dressed in a breathtaking blue gown, with floral embroidery across the bodice and bottom of the skirt. A red velvet robe trailed behind her as she carefully walked down the staircase. As she made her way to the throne, Elena smiled at all who had come to celebrate this day with her. Though her stubborn sixteen year old self insisted she'd be able to rule all on her own from day one, she knew that she wouldn't be the ruler or woman she was today without each and every person she passed by entering her life.

But, who had supported and guided her the most of all through this difficult journey was her family. Elena would often think of if her family hadn't survived the ordeal with Shuriki all those years ago, and how she would have ever become queen without their love, support, and guidance. She was so, so grateful they were here with her today to crown her, she had no idea where or who she'd be without them.

Once Elena reached the throne, she pulled each of her parents in for a hug, before turning to face the crowd. She stood as regally as she could for her last few moments as crown princess. Armando gently handed the crown to the king, who would have the honor of crowning his daughter the next queen.

Holding the crown above her head, Raúl took a moment to look down at his daughter, so proud of the woman she had become. He then announced, "It is with tremendous pride, that I crown you, Elena, Queen of Avalor!"

The golden crown was placed upon the young queen's head, and the ballroom erupted into cheers. Elena lifted her head with a smile, she had worked so hard and been through so much to finally achieve this moment.

Raúl stepped back and wrapped his arm around his wife, who took his hand tightly in hers. The former king and queen looked over at their Elenita, their baby girl. Even though they had mentioned it hundreds of times that day, and they would certainly continue to, they were just so, so proud of their daughter. They had no doubts that she would be one of the greatest queens to ever reign, and that Avalor would continue to thrive under her rule.

The next part of the ceremony would soon commence, where the queen would choose a partner for the first dance of the evening. Elena stepped forward, and approached her three closest friends. She bestowed a new title upon each of them, even naming her younger sister the Royal Inventor. But, she still had not chosen a partner to dance with.

Elena paused for a moment, and pretended to be in deep thought. "Now, I believe I have a decision to make.." she said, before turning towards her parents, and reaching her arm out to her father.

"Papá, no one has helped me learn how to rule more than you. Would you honor me with the first dance?"

Raúl couldn't help but gasp, as he could've sworn Elena would've chosen one of her closest friends to dance with, or even her grandfather. Sure, he knew he had been a mentor to her on her journey to become queen, but this came as a pleasant surprise to him. And of course, he would accept. He placed his hand to his heart, and bowed his head to his daughter.

"Of course, mija." he said. "It would be my greatest honor."

Raúl approached his daughter and took both of her hands in his. He leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead, and looked down at her with the proudest smile possible. "I'm so proud of you, Elenita."

"Thank you." Elena replied with a smile. "I couldn't have done any of this without you. Now, about that first dance.."

But, before they could begin the first dance, or even before any music started playing, Francisco spoke up.

"Wait!" he cried. "I didn't stay up all night writing a song for everyone to play for you for nothing!"

Elena tilted her head in confusion. "What do you mean, everyone?" she asked.

Then, Lucía, Isabel, and Luisa, along with Francisco of course, stepped forward, and reached their hands to the side.

"Guitars!"

Their guitars were then handed to them, and the quartet began to play a song written and composed specifically for the occasion.

Elena couldn't help but smile, she couldn't believe her family had gone through all the effort to write a song just for her first dance! But, said first dance hadn't begun just yet, what was she waiting for? She took her father's hands in hers, and the two of them began the first dance of the coronation ball.

By the end of the song, Elena and Raúl weren't alone on the dance floor. Just about every guest was dancing in their own ways alongside them, having a wonderful time. As Elena went over to dance with her friends, Lucía pulled her husband right over for a dance. The two of them laughed and smiled as they danced to the beat, they felt as if the golden days of Avalor were returning again. Brighter days were ahead for the kingdom, and they both knew that their Elenita, their shining light, would be a guiding light for Avalor.

¡Viva la reina! Our Elena! Our love will always shine so bright!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Approximately two years later...

In the kingdom of Avalor, every day is bustling, busy, and bright. Today was no different. But today, excitement was in the air for a very special reason. Villagers were lined up and down the streets of the city, waiting for the moment to arrive. Some had claimed their seats days in advance, either paying extra money for it, or by having a bit of a camp out on the sidewalk. Children waited eagerly with small Avaloran flags in their grasps, some even held up posters or drawings that they had made themselves. Their parents were quite tired, but they knew that being here was a once in a lifetime event. But, it wasn't only the village that was filled with both chaos and excitement.

Inside the palace, the staff was busy preparing the castle for this very special event. Rulers and dignitaries from all over the world would be visiting Avalor, so the venue had to look its very best. Every member of the royal family was busy getting themselves ready for the day, but Queen Elena's room however, was where the most activity was happening.

Lucía held back tears as she placed a veil over her daughter's head, her Elenita was to be married today. The moment she stepped back to see the bride's final look, her breath was taken away. Elena wore a strapless dress, with red and gold embroidery swirling across the bodice. The bottom of the dress was long and flowing, including small details of lace, with a six foot train trailing behind her. Her long, dark brown hair was rolled into a bun, one of her favorite formal styles. Underneath her veil was her usual tiara, the rubies casting a scarlet glow whenever the sunlight hit it. The young queen was the epitome of a beautiful royal bride.

"Oh, mija..you look absolutely beautiful.." she said, having to wipe a tear or two from her eye before they fell down her cheeks.

Elena couldn't help but tear up as well as she watched her mother's reaction. "Mamí, stop it, you're going to make me cry too!" she said.

"Oh, no, no..no crying until at least the vows, you can't ruin that beautiful makeup of yours!" Lucía replied. "You look absolutely perfect, Elenita." she added, taking her daughter's hands in hers.

"Thank you.." Elena responded with a soft smile. "I still can't believe this is actually happening.."

"Neither can I!" Lucía agreed. "It feels like just yesterday you were born, it was one of the happiest days of my life..and now look at that little princess! She's all grown up, she's now the queen, and she'll soon become a wife.."

"It only took me forty six years." Elena joked with a laugh, referring to the four decades they had missed while being trapped in enchanted objects.

Lucía laughed as well, she needed a quick laugh to distract her from how fast her daughter had grown up. "Well, I'm sure those forty six years were well worth the wait, right?" she asked.

Elena smiled and nodded at the thought of her soon to be husband. She was so thrilled to be marrying Gabe, she was the happiest woman in the world with him. Thankfully, her entire family had known him for just as long as she had, so he fit right in with the royal family, and Raúl had no hesitation on giving Gabe his blessing to marry his daughter.

Then, a knock at the door signaled that it was time for members of the wedding party to begin their journey to the cathedral, and that included Lucía. The former queen held her daughter's hands tightly and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good luck, mijita." she said with a smile. "I'll see you at the altar."

A few minutes later, Raúl entered the room to escort his daughter downstairs to the carriage that would bring them through Avalor City, and to the ceremony. He too had to pause for a moment to take in the beautiful sight that stood before him. He simply couldn't believe how his little Elenita had grown so quickly, into a strong, confident, and beautiful woman. Each and every day, he would be reminded of how proud he was of his daughter, and how far she had come.

"Elenita, you look simply breathtaking." he said as he approached his eldest daughter. "I changed my mind, I don't think I'll be able to let you go at the end of that aisle." he joked.

Elena couldn't help but laugh at the thought of that, even though she knew, if it were his choice, he probably wouldn't let her go, not wanting to accept how fast she had grown. "You should've thought of that before you gave Gabe your blessing!" she joked.

"I know, I know," Raúl said. "But I'm just joking, mija, I'm thrilled for you both." he added with a smile.

"Thank you," Elena replied, returning the smile. "I'm thrilled too, a little nervous, of course, but still so, so excited."

"I'm sure you are." Raúl responded with a nod. He then sighed, and looked his daughter over one more time. "I'm so proud of you, Elena." he said. "From the moment you were born, I always have been the proudest man in the world to have been your papí. As each day went by, I thought I couldn't possibly love you any more. But each new day, I was proven wrong. I am so incredibly proud of the young woman, queen, and now, well, almost wife that you've become. I love you so much, Elenita."

Elena wrapped her arms around her father and pulled him in for a hug. She was just so grateful to have such a loving and supportive family as she did, she wouldn't want anyone else by her side to celebrate this special day with her.

Once she finally let go, she turned to pick up her bouquet of poinsettias, perfect for her mid-December wedding. She then took her other hand and held her father's tightly. "Ready to go?" she asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Raúl replied with a proud smile.

Elena and Raúl walked hand in hand to the front door of the palace, where a carriage was waiting for them. The coachman opened the door with a bow, and both he and Raúl helped Elena to get inside. It was quite a task with her long train, but thankfully, everyone fit comfortably.

A moment later, the carriage began moving, and they were off. On the way to the cathedral, they passed the many villagers who had been waiting for hours for the queen's carriage to pass by. Elena waved to the people of Avalor with a smile on her face, and even gave a special wave to small children who were seated atop their parent's shoulders. After a carriage ride full of smiling and waving, they finally arrived at the cathedral.

Isabel smiled from the front doors, and began to walk down the steps to meet her sister. As the maid of honor, it was her job to make sure her dress stayed in perfect condition, which meant she was in charge of the long train on the way inside. The coachman opened the door, and Elena began to step out. With that came the cheers of the villagers who had managed to get a spot close by to the cathedral. Elena looked around and took everything in. The cheering villagers, the bells pealing, the thought that in just a short while, she would be Gabe's wife. Isabel took the back of her sister's train in her hands and lifted it up, and Raúl  began to lead her inside. Before she reached the entrance, she turned around and waved to the cheering villagers with a glowing smile. She took her papí's hand in hers and held it tight, as they began to walk inside.

Inside the cathedral, she was greeted by her wedding party, who were all in position, ready to walk down the aisle the second the music started. They all gave Elena a smile, and Naomi shot her a reassuring 'thumbs up'. Isabel made her final adjustments on Elena's dress, and began to walk to her place. Once everything looked perfect, and everyone was ready to go, Elena took a deep breath, and the music started.

The journey down the aisle felt like miles for Elena, tightly holding onto her father's hand as he led her closer to the altar. She smiled at each person she passed by, the joy and excitement of the occasion had spread to practically every person in attendance. Elena's smile grew even bigger the closer and closer she grew to her future husband, this still felt so surreal. But, this was a reality, and she couldn't be happier.

It was a bittersweet moment for Raúl once they reached the altar, especially as he passed Elena's hand over to Gabe. But, with a nod of approval and a warm smile to his son-in-law, he knew that his Elenita would be in the best hands. He kissed his daughter on the cheek before heading to sit beside his wife, but before he could, Elena pulled him in for a quick hug.

"I love you," she whispered to him.

"I love you too, Elenita."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight years later...

"Abuelo! Abuela!"

Lucía and Raúl turned to the sound of their granddaughter's voices as they ran into the parlor. Six year old Catalina Blanca and Carolina Lucía were dressed identically, quite fitting for them being identical twins. They wore a dress of ruby red satin, with short puffed sleeves and an attached ribbon at the waist, tied into a perfect bow in the back. Along with the dresses, they wore matching paten-leather shoes, and a red bow headband to keep their long, dark brown hair out of their faces. Occasionally, even their abuelos had a tough time telling them apart, but the easiest way to differentiate the two was by their personalities.

"Oh, mijitas, you both look so beautiful!" Lucía said, as Carolina fell right into her arms. "You're going to be the best looking girls at the parranda tonight."

"You think so?" Carolina asked with a smile. "I think I'm the best looking girl every day!"

Lucía laughed softly and held her granddaughter close, Carolina was always the one to take pride in her looks. "I know so." she said.

"Abuelita, which songs are you going to play at the parranda tonight?" Catalina asked, already cuddled up in her grandfather's lap. Her and Raúl were particularly close, as Catalina was the heir to the throne, and would follow in her mother's footsteps to become queen one day.

"Oh, just the usuals," Lucía replied. "Let Love Light the Way, Hearts Full of Cheer.."

"I wanna play!" another little voice cried.

Three year old Luis Raúl poked his head into the room, and had clearly overheard some conversations about playing a song. He was absolutely enthralled with his family's love of music, and couldn't wait until he was old enough to learn from his bisabuelo Francisco, his abuela Lucía, or his mamí.

"Well, I do have my guitar handy, if you'd like play a song for us before we go," Lucía offered with a smile.

Luis nodded excitedly, and sat right beside his abuela as she reached over to pull out her guitar. Lucía placed their guitar in front of the little prince, and he began to 'strum' a song for his family. Of course, he played about as well as any three year old could, but to Lucía and Raúl, it was music to their ears.

Just then, Elena and Gabe made their way into the parlor, with two year old Marcelo Roberto in his papí's arms. Elena almost didn't want to interrupt this sweet moment between her children and their abuelos, but they did have a parranda to get to!

"I didn't know we were having a concert before the parranda!" Elena joked with a soft laugh. "Your guitar playing sounds wonderful, mijo, maybe you can lead the parranda next year!" she said to her son.

"Well, he will be learning from the best, won't he?" Raúl asked, looking over to his wife with a smile.

"Oh please, if that's the case, Elena learned from the best, and turned out to be even better!" Lucía replied.

"No, no, I think he should learn from his abuela, so he can grow to become a better guitar player than the both of us!" Elena suggested.

"Now that's more like it!" Raúl responded. "One day, I'm going to see this little one's name up in lights!" he added, reaching down to ruffle Luis' hair, which made him giggle.

"So, is everyone ready to go?" Elena asked.

With a unanimous yes, the royal family made their way downstairs to head into town to begin their annual Nochebuena tradition.

As the family made their way downstairs, a thought crossed Elena's mind. She had a gift for her family that she wanted to give them tonight, but by the time they came home from the parranda, the kids would be going to bed.

"Oh uh, wait!" she said, to catch everyone's attention.

The rest of the family stopped and turned around, wanting to know what may have been forgotten this time.

"How about we go and put the stockings on the mantel? We haven't yet, and by the time we get home, it'll be time for the kids to go to bed. Let's go!" Elena told them and motioned to her family to follow behind her.

Lucía raised an eyebrow with a smile. Her daughter had something up her sleeve, but she didn't know what. She glanced over to her husband, who shared a similar expression.

They soon entered the family room, which was decked with traditional decorations passed down from generations, and some that had been handmade by Elena and Isabel over the years. All of the children's stockings, which had been customized by Isabel, were laid on the table, and the kids rushed in to take theirs and hang them above the fireplace. Gabe helped to hold each of his children up one by one, so they were able to reach the metal hanger. Elena put up hers and Gabe's, but there was still one left on the table, one that was smaller than the others. Elena stood back and waited for a moment, curious as to who would notice it first.

Surprisingly, it was her youngest son, Marcelo, who toddled over and picked it up. He walked over towards his abuelo, not knowing what to do with it.

Raúl picked it up and looked it over. It was small, and it didn't have a name written across its top like the others. "Elena, what's this?" he asked.

Elena simply shrugged, and waited for her other children to make a guess.

"Do I get another stocking?" Carolina asked, hoping it would mean more candy for her.

"No, it's Marcelo's, they're both small!" Luis said proudly. That made sense, that had to be it!

"Catalina, do you know what it is?" Elena questioned. Catalina already seemed to possess logic beyond her years, so Elena was curious as to what her daughter would come up with.

"It doesn't make sense, we each have a stocking, with our names on it, and Luis, Marcelo has his own, so it can't be his, but I'm not sure who it belongs to!" she said.

Catalina was stuck. No matter how many situations she came up with in her head, none of them seemed right.

"Well, it does belong to someone, someone in our family.." Elena hinted.

Carolina's face suddenly lit up. "Is it abuela or abuelo's? They didn't hang a stocking yet!" she exclaimed, confident that she had solved her mother's riddle.

"Oh, we'll gladly take an extra stocking!" Lucía joked, pretending to reach over for it. "More dulces for us!"

Elena laughed and shook her head. "No one's gotten it yet!" she said. "Here, I'll give you another clue. This member of our family is not here to celebrate Navidad with us this year, but they will be here next year!"

Catalina was sitting in deep thought, putting all of the pieces together in her head. Not here this year, will be next year, a member of the family, no name, and the size of the stocking had to symbolize something. Suddenly, Catalina gasped.

"A new sibling?"

With that, Elena looked at Gabe, whose eyes were wide. All he could say in response was, "oh no..."

Elena laughed and smiled. "Yes!"

Catalina and Carolina held hands and jumped up and down in unison. Luis was also very excited, clapping his hands and smiling wide. Marcelo didn't truly know what was going on, but he knew it was something good. "Yay!" he shouted excitedly, though it sounded more like he was saying 'ray!', which made his reaction even cuter.

Lucía and Raúl were thrilled as well, they absolutely adored being abuelos to their four beautiful grandchildren, they couldn't wait to welcome one more.

"I'm so excited for you, mija!" Lucía said, wrapping her daughter in a hug. "You're certainly going to have your hands full, now aren't you?"

"I sure am!" Elena agreed with a nod. "But I've managed to survive with four, how bad could one more be?"

"Oh, I've heard that before, about three children ago." Lucía joked.

"And you two thought you had your hands full with this one, huh?" Raúl chimed in, as his youngest grandson reached up to him, wanting to be in his abuelo's arms. He picked Marcelo up and tossed him in the air, making the toddler screech in delight.

"Well, though our hands may be full, our hearts are even fuller." Elena said.

In the moments leading up to the parranda, Raúl and Lucía took in this moment surrounded by their ever growing familia. They couldn't help but wonder what would've happened on that fateful day over fifty years ago if they had left to work on the Carnaval floats even a moment sooner than they did. There was a good chance that they would've never lived to witness their daughter take back their kingdom and free Avalor from Shuriki's reign. Raúl may have never been able to place the crown upon his daughter's head to crown her queen of Avalor, or proudly walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. Lucía may have never been able to see how breathtakingly beautiful her Elenita looked moments before she was married, or witness the moment her daughter became a mamí. They thought of their four, soon to be five, beautiful grandchildren, who they never would've been able to meet. Becoming their abuelos was one of their greatest joys in life. While they couldn't help but wonder about if a single thing had gone differently, they wouldn't have wanted their lives to have turned out any other way.

[witchcraftingboop]

Further Insight on Briar's Recent Discourse & Prim's Apparent Grooming of Younger, Newer Witches

It was suggested to me that instead of making one long post (which I was genuinely sorry for creating in the moment as well), that I should offer the second half in a separate one so that it is easier to share and harder to simply ignore as a wall of text.

Here is the link to the first half of the current JBird and Briar discourse floating around. I highly encourage everyone involved in the Witchblr community to review both posts and not just this final addition. 

Regarding Prim stirring the pot, I actually do have proof of that on my page somewhere if you wouldn't mind my sending it to you? The person I reblogged it from, Mahi, also received death threats from Prim when they were only 16 and Prim was 20 (I can't ask him to share that though because Prim has since used her following to drive him off of Tumblr and he's still fairly [and justifiably] sensitive about it.)

Regarding Briar's statements more specifically though, I can see where the confusion is coming from. After the "in France" part, she's just defining a relevant term (hence the use of "irrelevant details) and then giving an explanation of how she came to be so knowledgeable about that term/concept. I wouldn't say she's calling Prim's activism an "irrelevant detail," but pointing out how Prim uses it as a shield against backlash whenever another blog (not just tradcrafters) calls out her platform. I don't expect you to fully understand or see what I mean when I say that, of course. Because you are still new, and these are habits I've observed of hers from nearly a year of following their interactions. I would, however, like to point out that Briar doesn't say anything racist about Prim and does not once bring up her race. In fact, I think if you read her entire post and not just point 3 as Prim has it cropped out in all of her mentions of it, you would see more fully the depth and amount of frustration Briar is trying to express. Similarly, Briar never threatened to dox Prim. She has, in fact, repeatedly tried to point out that Prim should be protecting her online information and be more aware of how to stop others from finding out about her private life/situation. These statements, however, have since been warped by Prim and her followers to come off as a threat on her life. Briar's statements above aren't a threat of doxxing. She's never once posted Prim's personal information or told others to find it or use it in any way. She has, however, searched for Taglocks on Prim, something witches especially are known to look for. In that search she found more than she was even looking for, despite trying to tell Prim repeatedly to stop being so open online with the information she posts about herself. Doxxing though is not racist. It is something used by them, sure, but it is not inherently racist.

Additionally, Prim has raised money, sure, but I still have not seen any actual receipts as to her *actually* donating it to any public or private organizations. This, for me, is highly suspect. In reality, we still have no idea where that money is. Whereas with Briar, she took no money in for a couple days on her readings and instead merely asked that those requesting a reading first submit proof of donation to an organization linked in the post. She raised substantial money for the BLM movement, but no one seems to want to bring that up in all of their "she's a racist" discourse. Also, the observation that someone is misleading or gaslighting their following is not racist. Just because she said Prim was recently using her BLM reblogs & promotions to do it *this time* still does not make it racist. Questionable wording is just something the reader disagrees with, in my opinion, and should be addressed as such.

I'm not going to lie, I do feel a little frustrated at this point. I was really hoping to come to you and see that you had concrete proof to offer that Briar is a racist. I do understand that you have your own reasons for feeding into the assumptions and twisted outlooks already taken on Briar's words, but I don't have enough energy in me to fully swallow my tongue on this one. I really do hope that you at least consider what I've said here. I'm not sure what I can say at this point because all of the information I've read from you thus far has been purely conjecture or assumptions or just "not feeling right" about the wordings on a single post. A racist, from my perspective, is not something I would ever feel comfortable calling someone off of this lack of evidence.

I understand it is hard to separate preconceived notions from your mind when reading through the words of others, but I really do miss when you were more open to the words of others. If I could ask one thing of you, it'd be to please try to read Briar's post again but from the perspective of seeing it how it was meant to be: a witch who has been on the butt end of Prim's harassment for going on three years now. She is tired of the wild accusations and constantly having to defend herself, and even when she supplied her proof a couple years ago, no one wanted to hear her. She has, largely, given up on being heard, and now screams into what feels like a void when attacked.

Proof of Prim stirring the pot that I offered: An example of Prim actively seeking out the community and trying to stir the pot with an already dealt with situation that had passed over a year ago.

A direct source that I offered as further proof of what has occurred already: This is one from the account mentioned before who was directly involved with the previous discord server where the Trio incident took place a couple years back.

[A Reply.] I think, to be fair, I saw your comments on her previous posts through your main, and with how much aggression you packed into those messages, I don't necessarily blame her for deciding not to engage with your private messages. As I've said, she's very used to people attacking her like that, and in her mind, unfortunately, you've probably been added to the list of aggressive people ready to fling the blame at her rather than look at the situation as a whole. I do apologize for the way her post may have made you feel, but I think it's also important to remember the potentially aggressive things you left on her page (I'm not saying you meant to come off that way, but even I couldn't help but read that way). Also, regarding the ask, it's no small secret that the occultists of the tradcraft group are skilled and well-versed in hexes and curses. When reading her posts about how she may respond to further antagonism on Prim's part, I see a fully realized occultist wielding their most well kept and trained weapon: baneful magic. I'm sure Prim herself also understands that the "threat on her life" she's saying she's so afraid of, isn't a physical threat, but a metaphysical one. She has repeatedly and continually tried to drag these people through the mud, and now that they're refusing to just sit back and be canceled, she's afraid. She knows how strong their magic is, and they aren't shy about it 🤷‍♀️

[A Reply.] No, I completely understand where you're coming from. I, personally, have seen your willingness to talk things through, despite how aggressive you can come off at times in the things you say, so I think that's why I was genuinely so surprised to see your comments on some of her posts. But I do think her response and refusal to further directly engage with you is warranted and her right. Unfortunately, it is hard to tell who is genuinely open to talking and who is just trying to bait and add to the problem. And with how aggressive your comments were, 8 honestly think she most likely was responding from a place of "oh look another young Prim follower here to bait and berate me." I don't think she looks down on you for your age, but her views are likely a reflection of the fact that a lot of 18yos follow Prim and have openly harassed her without even asking for her input on the matter.

At this point, I would like to talk about the second half of the title of this particular post. Grooming. This is a very serious allegation against Prim that I have not spoken on previously because I had no proof that it was happening. With this person's permission, I would like to share how exactly they wound up fighting Prim's battles for her.

I will note: I am highly disgusted by what follows.

[A Reply.] Oh no! You cannot fault yourself for this! Prim is a known manipulator, and the fact that she was able to make you somehow think this is part of your being "gullible and naive" is just testament to the fact that she's gotten wayyy too good at what she does. This is in no way your fault or because of some fault within you. Practiced manipulators are cunning and dangerous even to the best of us. It was unfortunate that she chose you, but her twisting you around is in no way a bad reflection on you as a person!

I've chosen to include my reply to this person rather than our continued discussion because of how personal and involved our conversation turned. I've included it to show, as well, that grooming others to fight your battles is (though this should go without saying) NEVER OKAY. Prim has shown her true colors, in my opinion, and while I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt time and time again, I simply cannot permit myself to ignore the harm and damage she's inflicted on not only the tradcraft community, but also this innocent group of friends. A group who that has hitherto dedicated their time to sussing out predators, terfs, nazis, and racists. A group that should never have had to deal with being gaslit and manipulated by a well-known and respected blogger on this platform.

I cannot reiterate enough how sorry and deeply shocked I am at the information this person has brought to my attention. I am still stunned by Prim's activities and unable to fathom how many other potential individuals are out there being groomed to support and fight for her cause. I am sorry to the Witchblr community as a whole. I feel as if I have sat by and watched as Witchblr has been manipulated and am therefore complacent in the damage and needless hurt that has been allowed to spread throughout our community. I am just so very, very sorry.

I will be taking a couple days off of Tumblr because of this, as I feel as if I need space and time to think, but my inbox is always open and I am always available to speak with others on my return.

[mrkis]

a twlg essay from one of my faves @thetypingpup!! ellie, you never disappoint me with these, thank you so much for being so involved. truly makes my day!! everything is below the cut!!!

Just wanted to respond to a couple points I've seen about jaemin not being as much of an asshole. We've seen mc go through anguish bc of the arrangement and bc of him and what he's done, while he's over here in la la land. We have not seen mc do anything that hurts or negatively impacts jaemin the way we've seen jaemin do with her. We just have yet to see it. The scales are very uneven at this point in time. That was the main point of the last long ass thing I wrote yesterday. In terms of thinking they're both equally flawed and equally being stupid, the text so far just doesn't support that bc we have not seen mc negatively affect jaemin to the same extent, nor have we seen mc make questionable decisions the way jaemin has.

With the debates about the exclusive proposal and whether or not it was a mutual decision later on, or if you wanna go further down the line and mention jaemin leaving in the middle of sex to go see eunbin, promising he'd come back, and then doing nothing of the sort, mc has yet to do anything like that. Mc has not done anything that we'd be able to debate or call into question to the same extent, and if you list things mc did wrong vs things jaemin did wrong, it's a very uneven list with actions that aren't weighted the same. So it's really hard for me to think like oh yea they're both just dumbasses or that jaemin's not that much of an asshole. Nah the scales are not tipping in jaemin's favor, nor are they balanced at all from my perspective.

Also the whole "he's a man" sentiment I've been seeing floating around confuses me a bit. Now I never said he was an abuser (nor have I seen any of his critics actually say that) bc he's not. That requires more that jaemin just does not have in him nor has he exhibited. Definitely no malice or deliberate manipulation. Withholding the mia reason is still really terrible i can't emphasize that enough, but at least he has the decency to feel guilty about it. An actual absuer wouldn't feel guilty about that. And it's easy to argue that that's super personal and he really doesn't know mc like that yet, but that falls apart when you remember he agreed to the honesty rule and he even pointed out the honesty rule to mc before this when she shied away from talking about Eric, and she opened up to all that personal shit with him. But when it's his turn to be fully honest what does he have to say? That he wants to do away with one of mc's fundamental boundaries to be able to act on his urges in public bc in private "where's the fun in that?". A lovely man indeed, complete non asshole.To say his actions at times are at best sus and questionable and at worst veer on the problematic, that checks out, and the whole "he's a man" aspect being brought up confuses me bc that doesn't make it any better. Men have a propensity to think with their dicks, but mc hasn't regarded him as a means to a sexual and/or emotional end the same way jaemin has to her. I doubt she would refer to jaemin as a distraction the way he did for example. She would add some more humanity to her descriptors of him, like a *friend* she has sex and fucks around with not a whole distraction. So reading some of jaemin's views on her it's like yeesh ok. All men do is lie yes, but he still lied that's still not good. When has mc ever lied to him for the reasons he lied to her? And his jealous "I'm not jealous" thing with yangyang too bc I noticed that mentioned, is sus too. By that point in his pov he's hasn't made it seem like he cares much about mc outside of sleeping with her and finding joy in the fact that she makes him forget about his ex, and if we're being honest it's moreso the latter the sex is more like a vehicle for that. So it just looked like he was jealous not bc of any care or feelings, but that another man was touching the woman that he is also touching. After all, he's a man right? 😬

Sidenote the asks about jaemin and yangyang not liking each other made me chuckle but they have a point. At this point have we seen them do anything but bicker and be petty over mc? 🤔

Now with the pills I wanna clarify what my issue was bc I should've clarified that more. As far as sobriety questions are concerned, my issue specifically is when mc is clearly affected by it, so three way kiss scene and on. So that man hauling her off for that bathroom scene and in his head being all like "*butterfly meme* is this exclusive?", hmm I gotta squint at that. To be fair he had injested some of it too, but we haven't seen details of him being affected by it in his pov vs what we see in mc's pov about being her affected. It didn't seem like mc was affected by the pill when she initiated the public kiss with jaemin BUT jaemim assuming that meant she wanted to be exclusive even tho that's not what she explicitly said EVER so far in the text, that was selfish as all fuck and honestly veers into the realm of sus. We have not seen mc be that selfish. If anything we've seen the opposite. And the fact that he had to try and convince himself it was mutual that's a red flag, but at least he had the decency to ponder it and question the validity of his decision, so pink flag? I'm not in the business of applauding fish for swimming, bc ofc you're supposed ponder where the other person's head is that's literally the bare minimum, but jaemin needs all the brownie points he can get it's hard for him in these streets.

Overtime jaemin does seem to care about mc outside of sex and forgetting about his ex, but it's not nearly to the extent that we've seen mc care about jaemin. We've seen selfishness motivate his actions more than we've seen it motivate mc's. The whole reason his attitude towards mc and debates about how shitty he is are coming up, at least for me, are bc of all these apparent feelings he has for her as a person and all this apparent care he has outside of sex and forgetting about his ex. If they were both regarding each other as just booty calls this whole time this wouldn't be nearly as much of a debate, but that just hasn't been the case. All the moments combined from all the parts make it look like they're in a relationship in everything but name, and we clearly see how mc regards him. Now it's time to scrutinize jaemin.

So far in his POV, anytime a moment would come up and it's like "oh here's some genuine care for mc" "oh here's a moment previously in mc's pov that seemed cute" or hinting at something more, it gets undermined by whatever follows or whatever is going on in his head during the moment and i'm like "oop nvm sorry for thinking you were being sweet my humblest apologizes". One example being the Eric pill part. It seemed like one thing in mc's pov, mostly protective with a hint of wanting to show eric what for, but then seeing the primary and secondary reasons are switched around with whole "it's all for show" attitude from jaemin (seriously what the fuck?) and all his thoughts in that scene, I was like "oops nvm thought you were doing this mostly to be protective so sorry to assume 🙏🏾". The fingering scene disparity is another one bc it's one thing to view the same moment differently that's how people work, but to me from mc's pov it seemed somewhat cute with the faintest hints of lustful infatuation. But then once i got in jaemin's head and all he could think about was all the things he could do to this person who spread her legs for him bc he finally forgot about his ex, i was like "welp sorry to assume won't happen again sir 🙏🏾". There's other assorted moments like that which is where the sweetness turning sour turning bitter came from.

So yea it’s the incongruence of the way they're regarding each other, and the disparity in the severity of their actions, that's where a lot of the distrust of jaemin comes from for me. Can't speak for everyone else, but this is why it's so hard to for me see him as more than a fucking asshole and a jackass (all the ass words really), and why it's hard to be anything but sad and sympathetic towards mc. I can't see this as even in any way, and now I'm fully expecting that man to undermine any cuteness or care that comes up in the next part bc that's his brand so far. Key words in all of this being "so far". Gonna wait for part 6.2 bc maybe mc will be more questionable in that part. Maybe it will be more level in terms of sus actions. Maybe jaemin will be just as negatively impacted as mc has been at this point. Fuck maybe jaemin will end up crying over mc the way she cried over him. Maybe. I would actually love to see that, more serious flaws and even some questionable shit from mc. That would be fascinating to read omg I would love to analyze her on that level. But who knows what's to come? (except you Cas ofc 😅)

[ mrkis response ] : i know i've said it before in the discord but ellie... istg if you somehow do a complete 180 from six(pt2) i will literally piss myself. but i'm... honestly loving these type of questions and reactions from you... watch me make jaemin a complete asshole on purpose just to get a reaction again out of you LMAO

anyways! it's true that opinions have changed on jaemin since six(pt1) come out... i did warn in the warnings that his pov could change everything!!! i just didn't think it would get like this jdkjsd but i'm so thankful. some of jaemins actions have been a bit... odd. and can come across as hurtful towards mc without a doubt. but jaemins head at that time is very "this is a fwb situation. we just fuck each other". and admittedly, mc's head should be like that too but shes just too sweet and kind and thoughtful :(

with jaemin leaving mc to go see eunbin and never coming back despite telling her he would, i promise there's a reason for that!! i've spoiled it a lil bit in the discord but i assure you, there was a reason behind it. everything happens for a reason here!! :D i can't really go into much detail abt it... but trust me :p

yangyang and jaemin really do bicker a lot which makes me laugh too, especially when people point it out kdjsfeijf and they do only ever talk abt mc... one of my fave moments from six(pt1) was when they where bickering in the kitchen and yangyang asked if jaemin had fucked her yet, and jaemin shot back with a "i will before you ever will" he was mean in that scene... and it definitely got to yangyang.

the pill scene was hard but fun to write. the pill didn't kick in for any of them when mc first initiated the kiss in front of everyone, that was sober her wanting to kiss him. in her pov, where she was like "fuck the crowd" it was her way of saying "fuck everyone, i wanna make out with this guy whenever i want too" !!!BUT!!! communication, yet again, is key. they needed to communicate abt it first. them thinking/answering in their heads does not help this situation at all.

jaemin does care abt mc outside of sex... and he does have a hard time showing it. he does things in his own little ways. but mc for sure does care abt jaemin more. mc is giving her 70% while jaemin is giving his 30% atm. its not fifty fifty... yet :p