#I'm not sure why they immediately assumed I was a foreigner either

[dnalt-d2]

So I was playing Sky again and there's that one quest that says to sit on a bench with a stranger, so I went to the bench in the Vault, since sitting by that tree was another quest

And someone else sits down at the bench with me. I wasn't expecting them to, but they then sent a message in Korean. I of course hit the auto-translate, and it essentially said (And this was Google Translated, so obviously the grammar's not gonna be great)

"Hello you are a foreigner so you don't understand me"

"Haha"

"Sky why international?"

(Or something along those lines)

Also one of the other messages translated to I think Japanese instead of English for some reason

So hey, that was fun

(I did quickly reply that while I don't speak Korean, we did have auto-translate, and they immediately apologized and ran off)

[babylooneytoonz]

bear.

pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

summary: you were mistakenly cursed by your best friend, Yennefer, when the two of you were young. Since then, at the strike of midnight, you turn into a hideous bear and run off into the woods to stay the night. No matter how powerful, Yennefer isn't able to undo your curse. One day, she meets Geralt, and so do you. However, what wasn't in the books was the fact that you found yourself falling for him. ♡

requested by: @dashingcavill

warnings: curses & folklores, Geralt being both a douche and a babe.

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[Masterlist link]

Yennefer had guests, as you were informed by one of the girls that lived with you, and it didn't come as a surprise, for Yennefer had guests visiting her almost everyday. What fascinated you was that you were always too curious to see who the visitor was, so you would sneak up on them, and spy on them until the night ended in either of the two— Yennefer falling into the man's arms and coiling herself around him like a snake, or Yennefer using her powers on him to make sure he wasn't found again.

You wondered what it was going to be tonight, as you brought your candle closer to your face; letting the faint orange glow illuminate your features and stepped out of your room, your dress flowing behind you like a trail of white poppies until you finally reached the hall, where an orgy was on full display, and you scrunched up your nose in disgust.

You were about to turn away, walk back into the warmth of the chambers that you had so eagerly left, just to see exactly who Yennefer's guests were, when you finally saw them. At first, you just saw a bard, at least he looked like one, ignoring the massive tumour like lump that hung from his throat. You could see that he was gasping for air, but it wasn't him that captured your attention— it was rather the white haired man, tall as an oak tree, hair white like snow, eyes yellow, like a lion's. There was something intimidating about him, something that told you that he wasn't a man to be messed with, yet there was something else; like an aura, an invisible one, that made you keep staring at him.

You kept watching, listening to him introduce himself as Geralt of Rivia, a Witcher and you couldn't help but wonder about the monsters that he had encountered all of his life? Did they include animals... like you?

As if on cue, it suddenly struck you that soon, it would be midnight, and this meant that you were supposed to stay away. You ran through the hallways, your heart beating wildly inside your chest, fluttering out of control. It was a race against time. Your insides had begun boiling, immense pain shooting through your body like a million needles being inserted into your flesh. You grabbed the door handle at the right time, kicking it open and stepping inside, bashing the door shut again.

If anyone was to enter your bedroom, they would find you gone already. Your window thrown ajar, your discarded clothes strewn all over the carpeted floor. They would find thick brown coloured hair like that of a bear's and they would wonder if you were attacked by a bear. But this would be someone who wasn't Yennefer, for this secret of yours was only known to her, for she had been the one to have cursed you once, when you two were just little girls. And from that night onwards, there wasn't a single night when you didn't turn into a massive brown bear, when the it struck midnight.

Geralt wasn't just a regular in Yennefer's life though; a good fuck and a bye bye. He stayed, for longer you had expected him to. Although he never seemed to notice you during the days, you sure noticed him. There were days you didn't see him altogether, and you assumed that he had gone, left for good but then after a few days you would see him again— or hear him— in Yennefer's chambers; their skins slapping together, their moans filling the air, and his grunts.

The first time Geralt of Rivia actually noticed you was a few months into his acquaintance with Yennefer. You were outside by the well, drawing out water, when you heard a whinny of a horse followed by a steady galloping. It was bright and sunny, and the sunlight falling right into your eyes forced you to use your palm to shield your eyes and squint at the unexpected visitor, only to see Geralt's mare, Roach, come to a halt a few meters away from you, and Geralt leaping off it.

Geralt was on his way back to Yennefer, after having fought a bruxa that was tormenting the villagers of a nearby village and all he wanted to do was be in her arms again. It was Yennefer that managed to break through the brooding Witcher's hard outer exterior and see him for the kind, gentle man he was from the inside. She loved him for him and that is what he loved about her. It was surprising for him when he saw a woman by the well that early in the morning outside Yennefer's home. It was still the wee hours of the morning, pale sunlight fell all over like ivory, and there weren't many people around, but she was there. Geralt frowned at this weird, foreign feeling that was suddenly growing in the pit of his something; that feeling being curiousity and the wish to just find out more about her.

As he leapt off Roach, turning to give her one pat against her side, he turned his back towards you and you couldn't help but fix your gaze on him. The fabric of his shirt was slightly ripped and you could see traces of his scars scattered all over. The Witcher turned towards you just then and immediately, you began looking away, not wanting to be caught staring at your friend's lover. A giddy feeling swept over you when you saw from the corner of your eye that he was walking towards you.

"Can I have some water?" He said to you, looking down at you, and your bucket of water and you flushed, immediately bringing the bucket towards him.

"Oh, I am sorry, definitely," you nodded, and the Witcher slowly lowered himself from the waist, as though bowing in front of you, and cupped his palms. You lifted the bucket carefully and began pouring water into the cup of his hands, letting him drink his stomach's fill.

When he stood up again, you could see the corners of his mouth were glistening wet, as he eyed you carefully, examining you through his golden orbs and you couldn't help but feel flustered. It made you begin feeling self conscious and unknowingly, your palm flew to the side of your face, clumsily struggling to push your loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"Who are you?" You were pulled off guard, for you hadn't expected this. All this while, you had sheltered at Yennefer's place, you had always kept to yourself, and not many bothered to be interested in knowing about you; at least none of her lovers. Biting on the insides of your cheeks, you seriously hoped that he wouldn't catch on the growing reddish hue that was taking over your face. But you had no idea that the Witcher can listen to your heart right now, that it was racing, beyond control, and if Geralt was to concentrate on it, he would totally think that your heart will leap out of your body and land across his feet.

"Me? I'm..[Y/N].. Yennefer's friend.."

Geralt kept watching you for a few seconds before he nodded in your direction, choosing not to reply before he slowly turned your back towards you and began making his way inside. You just kept standing there, watching him like an idiot, a small wave of a smile displayed against your lips.

It didn't happen with the blink of an eye, but rather, your journey of losing yourself to the Witcher's charms was a journey of months. From that day that you gave the Witcher some water to drink, you ran into him a countless number of times. Some of them were innocent, when you would just run into him at Yennefer's mansion, while leaving your chambers, or recklessly running down the halls. Lucky for you, Geralt never managed to step out of Yennefer's chambers around midnight, so he never found out the secret that you had hidden from the world.

Some of the run ins, were however, not so innocent, especially when you almost ran into him when he was relaxing in the bath, his naked body glistening under the flickering torch, his arms spread out around him, resting against the edge. He regarded you from the corner of his eye, his eyes ablaze but you couldn't decipher what was running through his mind.

"Where's Yen?" He asked, his back facing you, his fingers moving aimlessly over the surface of water.

"She's.. I saw her in her chambers. She was speaking to one of the mages," you mumbled awkwardly, struggling to keep your eyes trained to the ground, but it wasn't very easy. And it was definitely not easy when Geralt suddenly stood up, naked, his body glistening and droplets of water falling down his perfectly shaped butt before he slid out of the bath, and began striding towards where his clothes lay.

You couldn't keep your eyes off his perfectly toned, muscular back and the way his tight butt moved as he walked off. Even when you knew that he knew you were watching him, you couldn't help yourself be captivated by him. Geralt didn't admit it but he was secretly enjoying it, and for the same reason, his movements were incredibly slow, when he reached for his leather slacks and slid it on, slowly, yet teasingly. He still gave you the view.

In that moment, you were thankful for the distraction— of Yennefer walking in. But what you missed to see was the look of malice the way her dark eyes narrowed at you, glancing from you to Geralt's naked form.

"You're done already, love? Couldn't wait for me?" She purred, as she glanced at you in an obvious way, as though silently asking you why were you here. She regarded you top to bottom, licking over her lower lip as she began stripping, right in front of your eyes.

She loosened the buttons around her chest, popping them one by one before she lowered the neck of it, revealing her glistening skin. You looked away, as she slid the dress lower and lower, until it fell gracefully against her ankles and she stepped out of it, naked.

Geralt growled at the sight of her, and you, embarassed beyond your wits, fled as fast as you could, before their moaning filled your ears and you couldnt remove those sounds from your ears.

"Well, fuck," Geralt cursed under his breath, his shoulder slightly hanging now as he tried to reposition himself after the blow he had taken from the striga in the woods.

It was as if the creature was laughing at him, it's teeth bared out towards him; inviting him. Geralt spat under his breath,just when the striga charged at him once again, screeching in a high pitched tone, the heavy body of the cursed monster almost making the earth beneath it shake. Geralt's sword was ready to strike, but the creature played a move. Right when the striga was close enough, it leapt in the air and took a leap, taking the Witcher by surprise.

It's massive claw struck him and he flew back, flying through the air until he was lying flat against the ground.

The cursed monster hissed and snarled, and Geralt could feel it making its way towards him, but the shooting pain in his body had temporarily had him frozen and a little slower.

He didn't understand what happened after that, but whatever did happen, it bought him the time to get back to his senses and regain his lost strength. When he stood up again, he saw that the striga was engaged in a fight with a massive bear. It was just a normal bear for him, claws sharp as it tried to scratch the striga but even the bear seemed to be of no match to the cursed monster. The bear had scratches over its front legs, and it's chest.

What Geralt didn't understand was that the bear looked at Geralt, and blinked, and Geralt couldn't help but feel something incredibly familiar about those eyes, as if he knew the person lurking behind those eyes.

The moment didn't last long though, for the bear was clawed at by the striga, and tossed away. The poor animal whined in pain, but slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of the wounds on its furry body.

Geralt snarled, taking advantage of the distracted striga, who was already making its way towards that injured bear; he leapt to the ground, rolling on his back and got a hold of the sword he had dropped. Blinking, he took a deep breath, and aimed the sword right towards the striga and let it swoosh through the air. The aim was perfect, the blade of the sword struck the striga right at the base of its neck, piercing into the rotting flesh as the cursed monster stumped to the ground, dead.

You whimpered slightly as you struggled to lift your heavy animal form up, but the cuts on you were scorching in pain, causing you to groan and whine with every little movement you made. You stiffened entirely when you saw the dark eyed Witcher stand tall above your head, only to kneel down next to you, and grunt, "Who are you? You are not a bear."

You growled at him, your sharp teeth bared out at him, but he didn't waver. He just kept looking at you; dead into your eyes.

"Geralt,may the lord's have mercy on my poor soul- where exactly are you?"

Jaskier stepped on a tree branch, crushing it unknowingly, the sound of it following his voice. Geralt muttered a low curse under his breath and he stood up, his hands on either of his hip as he glared at the bard, "I told you to wait by Roach, Jaskier." Jaskier parted his lips, ready to reply but his eyes suddenly caught the sight of you and they widened in fear, watching you slowly struggle to stand up.

"Geralt, why is there a bear behind you? Geralt— "

"that's not a bear," Geralt deadpanned, turned away from you.

"Are you blind? Would you look at that? That is a bear— " He suddenly turned towards you and hissed, "— And it's running away now."

Geralt cursed much louder now, his head turning sharply back. He suddenly began running after you, but you, even in an injured form, were fast and were making a distance already.

"Geralt, why are you running after that bear?" Jaskier shouted, but did not follow him.

Geralt simply shook his head, and muttered, under his breath, more to himself, than to the bard, "that is not a fucking bear."

It felt like a million daggers had been ripped through your flesh. It felt like you didn't have the energy to even open your eyes. Finally, after a lot of effort, your humanly form opened your eyes. The first thing your eyes fell on was the hearth that was warming you up.

And then they moved to your bare feet, that had scratches all over it. Someone had applied a green, now dried up herbal paste to it.

Suddenly, it hit you like ice cold water, and you suddenly remembered it all. How you had tried to fight the striga, and how it had almost killed Geralt.

Geralt.

Your eyes travelled to the shirt that you were wearing, the only fabric that was covering your body. And it didn't take you long to register who it belonged to; owing to the fact that it was too big for your much tinier frame as compared to him.

You buried your hands into your face, embarassment and guilt filling you up. He must have seen you transform, from that bear to this form, which is why you had his clothes on.

"You're awake."

Your eyes lifted, slowly meeting his yellow orbs. He had just entered into the cave, and was holding two logs of freshly cut wood. He knelt down in front of the fire he had made to keep you warm and began placing the logs.

You bit the insides of your cheeks and tried to adjust yourself more comfortably, but the wounds on your chest ached, making you wince. Geralt looked up.

"Don't move. I patched you up."

You blinked, squinting your eyes slightly until you were balling the fabric of his shirt, looking at him.

"You saw everything? Didn't you?"

He stood up, and grunted under his breath, before he made his way to you, and knelt down next to you. His fingers grabbed at the fabric of your shirt, which was clinging to your wound, pulling it away, his eyes fixed against yours, "Who did this to you?"

"No one," you shook your head, and tried to look away, but Geralt's voice snapped you back towards him.

"Yennefer?"

"She didn't mean to. It was an accident," You blurted out.

"I knew," he muttered under his breath, and looked like he was in a thinking.

"I want to go home, Geralt. I'm tired." You began to put the weight on your legs as you tried to get up but pain shot through your body and it made you hiss and fall back again.

"You're hurt, [Y/N]," he rasped, and before you could protest, he was already sliding his thick, veiny hand underneath your thigh, and in one sweep, he had you in his arms.

When Geralt stepped out of the cave, you realized that it was already shining bright outside, and almost half a day was already over. You slid your arm delicately around his neck to hold on to him as he casually, and effortlessly carried you down the rocky terrain. The first few minutes were quiet, and you could feel the Witcher's questions but he didn't ask you.

Finally after a few minutes of silence, you heard him, "How can I lift this curse?" He briefly looked down at you, and you swore you saw a look of gentleness in his eyes as you looked at you.

"We tried everything. There's no way. I'm cursed for life."

His eyebrows twitched, and his nostrils almost flared, in anger. He looked away, forcefully, so that he could concentrate on anywhere but you. Finally, after a minute of giving you a squared jaw, he lowered you on a rock, and turned away from you. Fixing his hands on either of his hips, he turned his back to you, and you could see the scars on his naked back, full displayed to you. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his scars, wanting nothing more than to draw your index finger over each one of it, "Well fuck, I don't buy it. Someone can do something," he barked.

"Well feel free to try, because I've tried and it didn't work!" You yelled back at him.

Suddenly, much to your surprise, the Witcher lowered himself to squat in front of you, his palms fixed on your bare knees, as you only had his shirt on. Before you could understand what was happening, the Witcher grabbed you by the back of your head and pulled you into him, his lips slamming against yours. The kiss was passionate, his lips as though in a battle with your lips, struggling, wrestling for control.

At first, you were shocked, but in minute or so, your body relaxed, the knots slowly loosening, as you began melting into the kiss— until Yennefer's face popped into your mind.

You broke the kiss in the midst, and pushed him away, glaring at him, throwing daggers at him with your eyes, "What the fuck, Geralt?"

He just gave you a serious look, as he lifted himself up again and began trying to lift you but you smacked him hard in the chest and he jumped back. You grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to you, "Why did you kiss me?"

He blinked, giving you a look, before he grabbed your arm, and pulled you closer, so you were chest to chest with him, "I wanted to."

"I'm a monster," you whispered back, but you were so close to him, you could feel your heart race, and so could he.

"You saved me." He said, huskily. Slowly, he reached for a loose strand of hair dangling by your side, pushing him behind your ear. After a short, momentary pause, he whispered, against your ear, "be mine."

You could feel tears pool in your eyes, and you didn't dare blink, afraid he will see them. You shook your head at him, trying to act defiant, but inwardly, you were weakening, "You don't want me. I'm cursed, and I'm gonna be cursed all my life."

"And I'm a Witcher, you think this isn't a curse?"

His words threw you off guard; you werent expecting it. Yes, you were aware how people his kind were treated, but atleast he wasnt cursed.

"They still need you, even if they hate you," you whispered, looking down.

"And I don't need you?" Geralt fixed his index finger over your chin and lifted your face up so you were meeting his yellow orbs that had fire lurking through them, "Don't care if you turn into a bear every fucking single night."

He suddenly bent and picked you up once again, bridal style, but this time you didn't protest. Instead, you had a humongous smile drawn to your face. Your whole body hurt, but you didn't care.

Geralt's words rang through your mind, again and again.

be mine.

"One step at a time, Geralt of Rivia," you said to him, and he just smiled to himself, his lips only crinkling lightly but you knew he was smiling even though his eyes didn't match yours this time.

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!!!! YOU DESERVE IT ALL!

So a soulmate event aye? I'm here for it.

I was thinking this prompt

- A red string tied around your pinky is connected to your soulmate’s pinky (when the two of you are in a certain distance)

With Atsumu or Osamu? I have a thing for those 2 and i just love them so much and they deserve nice things and just yes.

I hope you're taking care of yourself!!!!!

omg i sort of popped off on this one and it ended up just a lil longer than i thought it would and omg. i have no words for myself at this rate. look, i will not be judged for my sudden and random love this boy, but um. you’ll see

thank you for participating! I am taking care of myself most of the time so eh ya know

----

Your yearly visit to Japan wasn’t meant to be anything special. Just a trip to Japan where you’d meet your cousins again.

When the three of you stood next to each other, you could see why no one thought that you, Kiyoomi and Motoya were related. Alas, you were, much to the world’s surprise. It didn’t even help that you weren’t from Japan, so your grasp on the language was laughable. You coped and so did they.

“A volleyball game?” You quirked a brow at Motoya as he grinned widely, taking the seat opposite you and snatching an onigiri off your plate. A glare formed quickly on your face and you pulled the plate close to you, shovelling another in your mouth.

“Not just any game, but nationals.” There was a shine of excitement in his eyes and you shrugged.

“I guess I could go, not like I have any plans.” Your parents often described you as a perfect middle between Kiyoomi and Motoya; not quite an outgoing puppy, but not really hating the idea of people either. There weren’t too many things you and your cousins could agree on; it wasn’t that you hated each other, but you just never had the time to bond with them like they had. Still, when you got together, things weren’t awkward. They just… were.

“Do you ever have any plans?” Kiyoomi snorted, leaning against the kitchen counter. Resisting the urge to throw the plate at him, you settled on glaring at him.

“For your information,” you said, pointing at him, “I have plenty of plans when I’m back home.”

They both laughed. Motoya decides to cackle like a hyena, Kiyoomi chuckles softly. Was it really that hard to believe? Okay, so, sure, you didn’t really have that many friends - that didn’t mean you couldn’t have plans! It just meant that you’d spend more nights alone than you’d like to admit - they didn’t need to know that though. Not like you were going to tell them anyway.

What you hadn’t expected - from the brief description Motoya had given you on the way to the stadium - was that volleyball would be one of the most boring and thrilling things in your life. There were parts so filled with tension and passion that you could have drowned in it. And then some rallies would go on for what felt like days and you’d lose interest, only to be pulled back into it a second later.

Your cousin wasn’t the number one ace in the country for no reason; he played with a level head yet intensity beyond his years. You didn't even fully understand why Motoya was leaping across the court, or what a Libero was, or what was happening. How you’d never agreed to come before was beyond you.

But something is amiss, and you don’t notice it until a red string floats into your vision, like it’s purposefully making you aware of its presence. Your breath catches in your throat just as Kiyoomi slams down the ball.

It was almost funny that the year you decided to watch the volleyball game Motoya had been inviting you to for forever that you’re soulmate would suddenly burst into existence. You can’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach, because if you’d stayed back in your home country this year like your dad had asked, then you never would have gotten this opportunity again.

It didn’t take much internal convincing for you to start following the string. Looping through halls, twisting and turning around people. Anticipation built up, one you’d felt so many times today, but this was a different kind of anticipation. A swelling in your stomach, a flutter of butterflies that had been startled awake. Something so primal, an urge inside of you, yet something so calm at the same time.

The closer you got the more your mind urged you to run. As crowds formed, you couldn’t help but think back to your parents' comparison of you and Kiyoomi (because even if you didn’t hate people as much, crowds were your worst enemy).

You pushed through, ignoring the urges of your heart because God knows when you’ll get this chance again. That was the point. You probably weren’t going to get this chance again. Not since you would be starting University, your parents wouldn’t just be sending you to another country for a month - even if it was for family reasons - this was your final chance to meet your soulmate.

God, if you’d have known that your soulmate was in Japan this whole time then you would have begged to live here as a child, but you didn’t. Especially being the older of your cousins, you couldn’t help but feel slightly more anxious.

Barely 18, ready to live your life, and now you’d found your soulmate. Motoya would be excited for you, Kiyoomi would probably offer his apologies depending on who it was.

Thoughts wracked with who it could be. What they would look like. How they would act. Sound. Talk to you. React. You didn’t even notice how close it had gotten until a hand was pulled in front of your eyes; the person it was connected to looked down at you, tears in his eyes, though seeming generally disinterested.

Your heart stopped - whether from anxiety or excitement, you’d figure out later - he met your eyes and you couldn’t help but blush.

Just as you were about to speak - make your debut moment to your soulmate - a wave of people suddenly surrounded you and you froze. Like all the air had been taken from your lungs. Your heart - previously stopped - now worked in full force. If it weren’t for the buzzing in your pocket, you might have passed out right there.

Your soulmate was staring down at you as you shakily reached into your pocket, answering the call without any question. “Where are you?” Motoya’s voice rang clear. You blink slowly, trying to catch your breath enough to speak.

“S-soulmate…” the word feels so foreign on your lips (reasonably so). He instructs you to pass the phone to him - it takes a lot of effort, but you manage, ruling the phone away from your face and to him. He takes it - albeit hesitating - and starts a conversation with your cousin.

The string looks so strange wrapped around your finger but it was something simple you could focus on. Breathing was painful, and the crowd didn’t seem to be clearing. You didn’t catch the conversation but his face shifted and he reached out for your hand, looking around quickly.

He must have seen something that would help because he weaved you in and out of the crowd towards a corner with a group of people standing in it. You didn’t recognise them, so you could only assume this is where you were going to die.

You were too busy saying your prayers when he pulled you closer to him. “Who’s that?” Asked a boy with bleached blond hair, scrunching up his nose. You were probably hallucinating - and in the  off chance you weren’t, you were asking for more prayers - because the boy with the bleach blond hair looks almost identical to your soulmate.

He looked down at you with contempt, but you didn’t have the energy to care, not as your soulmate pulled you closer away from him. You could just imagine a smirk forming on his lips. Somehow, his presence calmed you just enough that you could focus.

He talked with - who you quickly learned to be - his brother and the rest of his team. Miya Osamu - your soulmate - kept you close by, still looking at you with disinterest. It didn’t take long for your cousins to find you, but even after they did, you didn't leave Osamu’s side.

Motoya pulled you into a hug and talked to you softly, Kiyoomi muttered exactly what you thought he would, “you’re an idiot.” But there was something caring in his tone.

Motoya was explaining to you that they made it to the second round, but you weren’t paying too much attention. Of course they made it to the second round, they always did (well, you weren’t sure of that, this was the first time you’d been here).

Throughout the rest of your visit to Japan you spent more time on your phone to Osamu than you would willingly admit to the boys. Considering he was from Hyogo, and you were staying in Tokyo, it only made it harder. You joked and said it would only prepare you more for the long distance you’d have to do when you returned home. You didn’t miss the sad look in his eyes. So many countless nights spent on the phone, pretending like you didn’t want to be in his arms.

Long distance was harder than you could have imagined; between opposing time zones, schedules, and just general life things, it was hard to find time to talk to Osamu. You made a promise to each other, that if you ever happened to go no-contact (whether by accident or on purpose) that you would find each other eventually.

That was what happened.

With so much work, you were losing sleep, your grades were slipping, everything was stressful. The same for Samu; he was too tired to practise, grades going downhill. You were the most worried when Tsumu stopped teasing his slightly younger brother and started actually caring.

Contact slipped until it just stopped. It wouldn’t be another five years until you’d see Samu again. 

You finally made the decision to move to Japan - specifically Hyogo - you’d claim it was because Kiyoomi lived there, but really it was because you hoped for a chance encounter with Osamu.

Kiyoomi made the decision to introduce you to his team and you were met with one overly excited Miya Atsumu. The boy - although now he was more of a man - recognised you immediately as his brother's soulmate. He stepped away from you briefly, claiming he had an urgent phone call to make and you didn’t question it - you had no reason to after all.

Not until that familiar red string floats into your vision as it had done all the years ago and you turn around to see Osamu standing there, a little out of breath but so happy. You act on instinct, throwing yourself into his arms and promising to not leave his side again.

----

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[aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide]

Evocations: XII

Alexandra couldn't decide what was worse - that she was jealous over a perfect stranger openly flirting with Olivia, or the fact that she knew it was irrational. It wasn't like her, to be either jealous or irrational; her reputation was for being calm to the point of coldness under pressure.

But nothing, when it came to Olivia, was cold.

Alex ran a finger through the condensation on her drink's glass, glancing up for what seemed like the hundredth time at the woman having a smiling conversation with Liv. The strange blonde giggled and found an excuse to touch Liv's forearm, causing Alex to deathgrip her glass as her eyes narrowed.

It didn't help that Olivia's gaydar was piss-poor. She was an incredible detective, smart and intuitive when it came to victims or chasing sex offenders. Flirting, though, sent the brunette into a foreign land where she seemed to lack both language and direction. Unless she stripped her clothes off and made an obvious move, Alex assumed Liv wouldn't even realize that this aggressive blonde was interested.

Is it because it's a woman? Alex wondered, scrutinizing her jealousy. She had never been jealous in the past, with other girlfriends. Perhaps, without realizing it, she had been unconcerned about losing them. Olivia had never given her reason to worry about infidelity, never - and they had been together over a year and a half.

Tipping her drink to her mouth, Alex looked over at the two women again, finding the nameless blonde now gesturing in the direction of the bar - likely offering to buy Liv a drink. Alex sucked an ice cube from her glass and crunched it between her teeth, her jealousy simmering in her belly.

She wasn't oblivious to the amount of attention that Olivia constantly drew. Alex was well aware that her partner was stunning, and usually, seeing others stumble over themselves like stuttering, blushing fools just made Alex more proud that she was hers. This time, this night . . . everything seemed off-kilter.

Sighing, she drained the glass, chewed more ice, and looked over again. But they were gone.

Not just the stranger - Liv, too. Both gone.

Alexandra startled to her feet off her bar stool as her chest was gripped with blazing anxiety and anger. She forced herself to take a breath and swept her gaze all around the room, sure that she was just panicking over nothing. But her eyes weren't deceiving her - Olivia was nowhere in the room.

Grabbing her clutch purse, Alex left her glass of melting ice and started in the direction of the restroom, as it was the most logical assumption. Beneath the surface of her skin, she could feel her irritation buzzing like a live wire.

While there were people in the restroom, Liv nor the blonde was among them. Alex took the time to splash cold water on her wrists and back of her neck in an attempt to think clearly. In spite of this attempt, she felt her anxiety tip over into real upset, and her stomach cramped.

She charged back through the bar - as best a tall woman in heels can charge - and plowed through the double glass doors into the cool evening. Her gaze scanned up and down the sidewalk among the people milling about, first left and then right. The second look to the right, Alexandra finally spotted them, down the sidewalk away from the others.

Liv was laughing as the other woman tossed a cigarette to the pavement and stamped it out. Alex swallowed dryly as the two women hugged, and Olivia held open the door to the taxi at the curb, ushering the blonde inside. For just a breath, Alex's heart stilled completely, imagining her lover getting into the cab with the woman and driving away, taking her entire life with her.

Then she blinked, her heart started again, and the cab was pulling away as Liv was coming back down the sidewalk in Alexandra's direction. When she got past some of the people, Olivia noticed Alex where she stood, arms crossed over her chest, still strangling her clutch bag.

"Hey! What're you doing out here in the cold?" she asked Alex with a curious grin.

"Who was that?" Alex's voice was flat, and controlled. It was her about-to-cross-examine voice.

"We went to college together," Liv answered, glancing back in the direction of the long-gone black and yellow. "Just an old acquaintance."

Alex rolled her eyes, exhaling heavily. Liv raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"An acquaintance. She was flirting, Olivia."

A laugh bubbled out of Liv before she could catch it. "What?! Al, don't be ridiculous," she shook her head.

"That's what you always say," Alex returned, "but just because you're oblivious doesn't mean no one is flirting!'

"It doesn't mean everyone is flirting, either!"

Alex threw her hands out in front of her and huffed, then opened her clutch and rooted for keys. They had been renting an SUV for a few weeks, toying with the idea of jointly buying a vehicle, and it was parked in a lot behind the drink club.

"I'm going home. You can come, or not," she tossed off, and turned in the direction of the parking lot.

"Alex, you - " Liv started, but the ADA was already moving, and she had to lurch forward to hurry after her, "You can't be serious!"

"I'm perfectly serious."

"We hardly spoke!"

"Imagine, the concept of body language," Alex deadpanned, "playing a part in flirting. A novelty."

"'Lex. You were drinking and I wasn't; give me the keys," Olivia tried, changing tactics.

"Are you accusing me of being drunk?"

"Not at all, I would just prefer to drive."

They had made it to the vehicle, and Alex stopped within a foot of the driver's side door. "Would you really? Like to drive?" she asked.

"Yes," Liv nodded, and moved to take the keys, which Alexandra pulled away and up at the last moment, dangling them in her hand above her head.

"Then you'll have to arrest me. Detective," she taunted.

Running out of patience, Liv sighed and moved into Alex's space, their bodies aligning as she pressed her into the cold metal of the SUV, reaching for the keys.

"Is that what you want? Me to handcuff you?" the brunette chuckled, making sure to brush against the sensitive inside of Alex's wrist. But the look in the blonde's eyes was still heavy with nerves, making Liv still.

"Alex. Why were you so worried? Have I ever given you reason - "

"Of course not," she said immediately. "But . . . "

"But what?"

"Everybody always wants you," Alex said quietly, blushing faintly, feeling ridiculous now that her fear was fading.

"Oh. Mm," Liv acknowledged. "Well, you know who I want?" she murmured. The blonde met her gaze, but didn't speak. She pressed Alex even harder against the door, leaning toward her mouth. "I want you."

Alexandra suppressed her grin and tipped her head up, forcing Olivia's kiss to land on her neck instead of her mouth. "Only me?"

"Only you," Liv confirmed.

"I want you, too," Alex sighed, melting into the press of warm kisses down her neck. She slipped her arms around Liv, pulling her mouth up to kiss her. "To myself," she added, "just mine ."

"Yours," Liv nodded.

Alex cupped a breast through the brunette's sensible button-up. "Mine?"

"Yours."

The hand curved around and down, gripping her ass through her pants. "Mine?"

Olivia nodded again. Alex's hand slid gently between Liv's thighs, sending a shock of desire through her. "And this?"

"Of course."

Finally, Alex brought her hand back up, pressing it firmly against Olivia's chest over her heart.

"Yours," Liv said, without hesitation.

Alex felt like she could breathe again as she nudged the keys into Olivia's palm. "Drive me home," she murmured, "so I can show you what's yours."

[ghostietoasty]

Why Sherlock Holmes FGO is Sus: Theories and More

Before I begin, I’d like to give thanks to my wonderful friend for all the points, art, and info searching that have been made to produce this piece, I can’t appreciate you enough for the effort you put in. 🥺🙏💕

Alright now on to it!

INTRODUCTION: Humble Beginnings (Identification of the Abnormal)

If you’ve played the app Fate/Grand Order for a while you’d know about the Heroic Spirit we first encounter in a hole within Camelot’s dessert whilst going to the Atlas Institute. Smart, handsome looking, and sharp enough to discern our True Name, this man of mystery has been seen as an oddball by many long time players of the game. There are many aspects about him that raise doubt about his credibility, is he truly what he wants us to think he is? That servant is Sherlock Holmes (Ruler) and there are many theories about him having some secrets, about him either being a Foreigner class, Beast class, or something else entirely. We are attempting to catalogue all this information in one place for maximum clarity.

SECTION 1: Other Character’s Reaction (First Impression is the Best Impression) *WARNING LOSTBELT 1 AND 2 SPOILERS AHEAD*

From the first encounter in Camelot right until the end of Lostbelt 2, there are many instances of characters reacting to his presence in….interesting ways.

Bedivere, when first coming in contact with Holmes in Camelot says that "I suppose I've never really been good with people like him. He reminds me of Merlin."

It could refer to the mysterious manner in which both Holmes and Merlin conduct themselves, but better to keep in mind that Merlin is a Grand Caster, and that he manifests as a servant due to specific circumstances (he is not dead).

In Camelot, Mash assumes that Holmes must be Caster class and that the original novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle must have been biographies penned by Dr. Watson under a pen name. Holmes corrects her, saying that: "My true identity, my essence, is slightly different from what you may think. And sad, but that is not the purpose of our gathering here today."

This dilemma is also present in the Sherlock Holmes Trial Quest (which mostly tackles the debate of whether he's a fictional character or someone who actually existed). Holmes has a line where he says:

"Ah, yes. I mentioned I was a Caster. Forgive me, I lied."

This is however immediately followed up by:

"A jest. My apologies. I couldn't help myself." 

This sort of backpedalling raises a doubt as to whether he was really Caster class before, so the nature of his former class is still a mystery. He later mentions that his Ruler class is the World telling him that not all illusions and dreams need to be laid bare.

When meeting with Salieri in Lostbelt 1, Holmes introduces himself as such:"I'm Sherlock Holmes, Chaldea's administrative advisor. I became a servant through unusual means, just like you."

Salieri was only summonable as a servant  because of his reputation caused by the fact that he killed Mozart. He is under the effect of Innocent Monster. It can also be said that Salieri is a lostbelt servant and is significantly more sane than he would have been in a normal summoning, that was the unusual summoning that Holmes was refering to. Does this mean Holmes is not from Proper Human History? 

Sigurd (who's under the control of Surtur), while attacking us in Lostbelt 2 says this: "So, a human and two Heroic Spirits. No, wait. Neither of you are pure Heroic Spirits, are you? You've both got something else mixed in. Hehe, hybrids then. Interesting" 

This is in reference to Holmes and Mash, who are alongside the master at this moment. Mash is a demiservant (human+servant) hence the "Hybrid" comment makes sense, but Holmes? What is the "something else" mixed in with Holmes?

Later in LB2, Holmes requests the assistance of Scáthach-Skadi in beating Surtur. Skadi says that normally she would never pay mind to what a mere Heroic Spirit had to say but: "...but in your particular case…I sense wisdom in those beautiful eyes. You remind me of Baldr, god of light." Quite a bit later, she also has this to say:"Perhaps those piercing eyes of yours in fact surpass Odin's? Mystic Eyes, perchance? ….No, that's not it. They merely reflect your wisdom born of human history's cumulative accomplishments."

She says that's not it, but the fact that it was the first thing she thought of shouldn't be ignored. 

Baldr is the god of light. Holmes' attacks consist of beams of light, and his cane lights up when he's using it in battle.

In Norse legends, Odin is said to have sacrificed one eye to the spring of Mimir in order to get ancient wisdom, the ability to perceive everything in the world. 

SECTION 1.5: More Reactions (From JP Only)

Since it is JP only and there is no official translation for NA yet, this information cannot be 100% confirmed in any way. (Most of this is from Reddit translation done by fans). But as these are also important, it's best to put this information separate section.

Moriarty's interlude involves him finding a micro-singularity in London. At some point the transmission between Chaldea and the master gets cut and Moriarty reveals he created this scenario, made the singularity and everything to get one on one time with the master. He tells us not to trust Holmes. When the time comes, we as master should choose Moriarty over Holmes. 

It has to be kept in mind that Moriarty is not a good guy, he is a character created entirely to oppose Holmes so it is natural that he doesn't trust him. For all we know, it is just emotional manipulation. 

Moriarty's very nature is tied to being the antithesis of Holmes. Holmes might theoretically go against us for the sake of humanity while also trying to keep us safe (the master is in a way, a Watson replacement to him after all) while Moriarty would gladly let humanity burn for the sake of us but also for the sake of being completely opposite to Holmes and keeping his identity as such.

However he does raise valid points, how was Holmes able to rayshift? This part was never explained, and he also mentions that his hypothesis has a fatal contradiction in the fact that Holmes risked his life to save ours. What can be inferred from this is that Holmes is a good man and is on our side, but there is something very weird about him that should not be ignored.

In Lostselt 5 it is mentioned at one point that Zeus called Holmes dangerous, he mustn't look at Zeus or the other gods and that his eyes are enemies of the world.

It has to be mentioned that this is some heavy emphasis on Holmes' eyes (Skadi mentioned Holmes' eyes twice, and she was a god as well). Is it because of the nature of Holmes that he is the one that reveals all truth? Is that in some way detrimental to gods, magic and the world in general?

Recently, from Holmes' skill upgrade interlude there was a section about Holmes saying that he is always an ally of justice and that while he may be on our side, he is still capable of evil but it doesn't change the fact that he is our ally. Even then it seems he has some secrets that can't be understood by himself.

By now with the presence of Dr. Jekyll and Helena and their recounts on what happened, it is confirmed that Holmes was actually "alive"(?)

Some of the adventures penned by Dr. Watson were actually censored versions of the original happenings, which were magical in nature.

Holmes was traumatised(?) by Helena's death back when they were both alive. He swears he would never let that happen again. (remember what happened in lostbelt 2…)

It seems that Holmes himself is not fully sure of what is secret about him. Since he utterly dislikes talking about something without being 100% sure about it (this tendency of his has gotten us in trouble before) plus his general secretive nature, it can be said that this is why he wouldn't talk about that.

SECTION 2: Weird Things That Holmes Does (And Other Questions)

Heroic Spirits are anything but normal, but there are few servants who break the norm even further, and Holmes is one of them.

Holmes is able to Rayshift (presumably) from London, to Camelot, and then to Shinjuku. There are very few servants who are able to manifest themselves. 

Musashi also appears here and there, but it's not a deliberate choice on her part. She is not able to predetermine her next destination. 

Arthur travels from a parallel world to this world, but this is due to "chasing after a certain powerful antagonist, evil omen" - so he tells.

Beast class has the skill of Independent Manifestation which would allow the servant to manifest anywhere they'd want. Merlin, Tamamo Vitch and Shiki possess it. However, it has to be noted that Holmes' rayshifts have a significant toll on his saint graph, as he is unable to fight or defend himself by the time we meet him in Camelot. While normal Independent Manifestation shouldn't lead to the depletion of the user's saint graph. Holmes' class is unknown at the time of his rayshifting. 

At the time of summoning, Heroic Spirits usually reveal their class and True Name (there also are exceptions to the rule). At the time of his summoning, Holmes doesn't reveal his Class: "Are introductions necessary? I am a detective. If you were expecting a hero, my apologies...But if you wanted a detective or an investigator, you drew the right card."

In the case of EOR Servants whose names haven't been found, they reveal their class.

Who summoned Holmes? The only thing we know regarding his presence was that it was first clearly there when he tampered with information in London.

Holmes' illustrator is Yamanaka Kotetsu, who was also the illustrator of the beasts Tiamat and Goetia

The artists who design and illustrate the characters tend to do it in groups of servants who are related to each other in some way (Pako with Arjuna and Karna Chacha and Nobunaga; Miwa Shiro with Brynhildr and Sigurd). It is strange that Kotetsu designed only Holmes, Tiamat and Goetia.

(NEW ADDITION) It should also be noted that as an illustrator Kotetsu has had previous works in a Lovecraftian Guidebook and is also the artist to the Alien God Preistess, somewhat showing how their work leans more to the outerworldly.

SECTION 3: The Design

It is a very commonly noticed fact that Holmes' coat in his third ascension has a very similar shape to that of the Foreigner card artwork.

The pattern work on the coattails of the foreigner art and the inside (blue) part of Holmes' coattails have a very similar, if not exactly same pattern running down the entire length of it. The sphere summoned in Holmes' Noble Phantasm also has the same pattern on its sides and front.

There is a "fog" around Holmes in his third ascension, which is reminescent of the smoke in the card art. (Also can be the London smog).

The glowing section of the abdomen of the being reminds one of the metallic corset that Holmes wears. 

There are 4 notches of smoke on either side of the being (total 8), under their cape. If we stretch our interpretation, then it could mean Holmes' arms and the metal arms that he has is also equal to 8.

In that tangent, the shape of the coat is also similar to that of Saver class Buddha, the fantasy trees from Lostbelt 3 and 4, and the Shadows made by the 6th imaginary element.

The Endless Knot / Shrivatsa symbol on his shoulders is one of the many references of his connection to Tibet (faking his death after the Final Problem). It is an important symbol in both Jainism and Buddhism.

Some of its interpretations include:

The eternal continuum of mind.

The union of wisdom and method.

Since the knot has no beginning or end it also symbolizes the wisdom of the Buddha

the endless cycle of suffering or birth, death and rebirth within Tibetan Buddhism.

The cane that Holmes wields has a pattern on its handle in the shape of a Prayer Wheel. 

However, we are not able to find the meaning behind the script on the cane. Both of us attempted to translate it but failed. If anyone can translate the meaning it would be greatly appreciated.

The holographic books in the base of the unidentified sphere have a pattern on their front that greatly resembles a lotus. 

In Holmes' third ascension, there are a number of magical circuits on his coat.

The circuits are almost only on his left side, with very few circuits on his right side. It's not like it was woven into it, were that the case the circuits would have been all over his coat in a more even distribution. It's almost like an impact radius.

The circuits are very similar to the ones visible on the title screen of the lostbelts, as well as the patterns seen on the fantasy trees.

CONCLUSION SECTION: Something's Up (It's Big Brain Time)

It's clear that something is very strange about Holmes, from his interactions to his design, it's clear that there is too much effort into throwing these hints that it's not just a red herring.

Is he a Foreigner? Beast? Counter Guardian? Some other unknown extra class? It cannot be said at the moment. Holmes' role as a revealer itself is dangerous to mystery and magic, so it can be anything.

 It is also not necessarily true that just because Holmes has all these abnormalities, that he will betray us, or is on the side of evil. When has there been a clear cut side of good or evil anyway? It can be argued that we are the villains in some way, as we bring about the end of these timelines to safeguard our own proper human history. 

Holmes has always been on the side of humanity and will continue to be, the question is what the reveal will be, why and how. That, only time and future chapters can answer, all we can do is speculate.

[azurevi]

2:00am

is this even angsty? either way, you've been warned. (Leona x gender neutral reader) (featuring shitty title♡)

"I'm so sad that I'm going to stay up all night," they said. "Let's just not go to sleep, for the sake of memories," they said.

Ace and Deuce were already tucked comfortably in their beds, competing for the title of the loudest snorer. But no matter how big a noise they made, they couldn't beat the infallible champion that is Grim.

Hung on the wall was the mirror that you've been looking at for as long as you could remember. You'd always known － you could feel it in your bones － that it was connected to something else. And that it could serve as a portal to your own world was not a big surprise either.

You just didn't expect it to be done so soon.

A line of incomprehensible words, perhaps a spell, were scribbled on the worn out frame and were emittng a faint, humming light. Crowley had casted it a week ago, turning it into your ticket back home.

The news spread like wildfire in the campus. The prefect of the two-person dorm, unexpected non-magical user who was nonetheless accepted into the school, was going to leave. Some students, even though they never really knew you, were disappointed at this. After all, you've done so many remarkable things for the school.

Friends you made along the way made their visits one by one, with heartfelt farewells and delicate gifts. Jamil cooked you the grandest meal you'd ever eaten in your life. Floyd gifted you a handstitched shrimp plushie, even though it looked a bit messy at the trims. Riddle held a well-organized farewell party for you, ordering every students in Heartslabyul to make it as memorable as possible.

Almost everyone had sent their blessings. No - everyone except one.

And surprise, surprise. It was Leona, perhaps the person closest to you here in this foreign world.

It was probably safe to say that he despised you at first glance. It took him quite a while to look at you without prejudice, and even longer to accept you as his friend. Even after you'd helped him out of overblot, he was quite hesitant to let you in.

That being said, even Leona could be moved with enough persistence. It was only a matter of time until he started appearing by your side during breaks and lunch, hanging out with you instead of napping around the campus, taking your advice even though he feigned annoyance.

Before you knew it, you'd already got used his presence and his warmth, the safety he promised and the unsaid care.

But time was a mischievous kid, because it never waited. It just kept running and running, even sprinting faster if you called out to it.

Perhaps you'd realized it way too late. It felt as if the very moment you'd figured out your feelings for Leona, you were to leave this world. And of course, you could just stay. Forget about your previous life and live here forever. Alas, no matter how hard you tried, you could never fit in. You never belonged.

Which was... fine. You could just bury your feelings for him and hope for it to fade. It wasn't like you expected him to return your feelings anyways, despite all the subtle signs that you took note of.

The thing was that, Leona, the person you surprisingly found yourself the coziest with, vanished as soon as news about your departure leaked. He was nowhere to be found. He was neither in the garden nor his room. You'd tried going to him at night, sure that he would be in deep sleep, but his bed was vacant with nary a wrinkle on the sheet.

It was like he was avoiding you on purpose.

And it hurt, even though he was known to be amateurish when it came to dealing with feelings. It hurt because you were leaving, and he didn't even bother to say goodbye. Even Tsunotarou came with a dispirited countenance, so why hadn't he?

Thoughts kept you awake despite protests. You decided to take a walk around Ramshackle, perhaps to survey the place one last time before your leave tomorrow.

The moment you yanked open the door, you came face to face with Leona, who had his fist held up in the middle of knocking.

"…Good morning," he said.

"Oh! What are you doing here this late?" you asked.

"To say goodbye, of course. You're leaving tomorrow, right?"

It was hard to make out his face, but you could tell that his eyes were everywhere but on you.

"Yeah, tomorrow. How nice of you to make a visit the night before at 2am," you couldn't help the bitterness in your voice.

"Look, prefect-" he inhaled. "Let's just pretend nothing happened, okay? I don't want us ending on a bad note,"

In all your times spent with him, he had never sounded so discouraged before. You dropped your hostility immediately and invited him into the lounge.

"Tea?" you offered, but he declined in fear that it'd keep him awake. So you sat by him on the couch, without anything to distract you.

"How are you feeling? About leaving, I mean,"

"Well, I ought to be a little sad," you laughed dryly. "But everyone's been trying to make it joyous,"

"I see," Leona ended the conversation so abruptly that you feared that he was going to leave.

"I'm sorry for being out of reach for the past week,"

Leona apologizing. Never had you thought you'd live to see this day.

"Where have you been anyways?"

"…Out?"

"That's the vaguest answer I've ever got," you smiled slightly, but he still seemed to be bothered. "What's the matter?"

His ears twitched in annoyance. It was such a rare sight. "Don't you think you're leaving too hastily?"

"Are you prompting me to stay?"

"No-no," he replied, and with that extinguished your hope. You couldn't understand why he was trying so hard not to say what everyone's been saying. It's not like he was the most understanding person either.

"I just thought you can... maybe linger for a few more days? If that's not too selfish of me,"

"What is all this, Leona? It's unlike you to be this considerate," you teased him gently, and he finally mustered a small smile.

"That's what you've always told me though," he said, puzzling you. "It's annoying... but I kept it in mind. Be more understanding, quit being self-centered, treat people with thought…" he trailed off when he saw your face. "What?"

You closed your mouth with a short chuckle, "Nothing. It's just unexpected. Are you trying to be sentimental on my last day?"

"Did I do a good job?"

You nodded.

"Well, consider this a parting gift, then. The priceless experience of me being sappy,"

The night hadn't gone how you'd quite expected. What had you assumed anyways? For him to make you stay out of selfishness? Would you have stayed, then?

You hated to admit it, but yes. He only needed to ask, but he wouldn't, because you'd told him not to.

"Well then, thank you for opening up to me,"

He growled quietly. You looked down in what felt like disappointment. Tranquility installed between the two of you, but you could feel it even in the air, that the both of you had something to say, but wouldn't. The words lodged in your throats like fish bones, difficult to swallow, even more so to spit out.

"Well then, I hope you don't feel too sad about leaving," he shot up and started striding for the door. You raced, heart pounding in your chest as you grabbed his arm, words blurting out of you without knowing.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"What did you expect?" he asked back, voice suddenly devoid of any emotion.

"I don't know," you confessed. "Something more?"

It seemed so self-centered for you to ask, but you were blatantly desperate. Leona paused for a while, before turning to you looking more defeated than ever.

"Look, prefect, I already spent the past week brooding, and you can't imagine how hard it is for me to act all generous now. But I can't hold you back, can I? You have your own world to return to, and -" he rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I don't want you to leave, but I have to let you go. Please don't make it harder than it already is,"

Words died on your tongue as you realized how shortsighted you've been, thinking that it would be easy for him. You let your hand slip away quietly.

"Just promise to visit me, okay?" he pleaded.

"I don't know if I can-"

"Just promise,"

"Okay," you forced a laugh, croak and painful. "I promise,"

Leona pulled you into his chest, too tall to even rest his chin atop your head, but it was something he'd got used to already. You stayed in his arms, as if by clenching to him tight enough time would stop its malicious game and let you stay in this moment forever.

In the end, it was him who broke the moment and stepped away. The instant his warmth left, a raw coldness washed over you.

"Well then," he stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to leave. "Rest well, prefect,"

"You too," you answered weakly and watched as his figure reached for the door, and vanished from your sight like he was but a whisk of fog.

乁( ˙ω˙ )厂

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Just i m a g i n e ; Nana and Gran Torino know the friends / almost boyfriends of Toshi and Torino was like; "go away of that blond idiot or I'm going to hit them without mercy" while Nana is; "Sora, let them, are childrens. But if they hurt m’lil Toshi, I'll also hit them without mercy :) ". The boys, (Dave, Sir, Tsukauchi and Aizawa), are scared of the threats of Toshi's parents and he does not realize that his parents have threatened his almost boyfriends. I think that would happen 👀.

Oh, I like where your head’s at. This is technically the beginning of either a recurring arc/a long one-shot in the NanaLives!AU that’s been building as tumblr snippets.

*Note: Sorahiko did not join Nana and Toshinori in the States for several months. He was cleaning up their tracks/records. On a last-second impulse, he asks the Commission to retrieve Kotarou. Kotarou’s reunion is a whole drama of its own, but the end-result is that Kotarou (1) gets therapy (2) gets a whole year off school! (3) gets a whole family!!!

//

Neither Nana nor Sorahiko are blindsided by the first boy Toshinori brings home. They’re trying not to invalidate All Might’s work by playing chaperone, but they do pay attention to the news. And the news is captivated by the presence of an exceptionally handsome young foreigner popping up to take care of problems.

Problems like the explosion at the local college laboratory.

“Okaa-san,” says Kotarou, enraptured by disaster, “Toshi-nii’s shirt got burned off.”

“He doesn’t know he’s got a camera trained on him,” observes Nana.

“Figures,” Sorahiko says darkly. He’s sitting at the couch, financial paperwork spread out on the coffee table. Kotarou is cross-legged, ostensibly keeping Sorahiko company and doing his English handwriting exercises. Nana had been busy with laundry, but she poked her head in at the first excited cry. “All this work to stay under the radar, and the brat immediately gets trapped in the spotlight.”

“No one will recognize him.” Goodness knows Nana hadn’t, the first time Toshinori tapped into One for All and puffed up.

“Who’s he talking to?”

“He’s talking to somebody?” Sorahiko’s head snaps up at Kotarou’s innocent inquiry, and Nana doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s studying the grainy screen, eyes narrowed in calculation.

“He looks nice,” she tries. The two boys on-screen are laughing together, bright-eyed and grinning. Toshinori’s new friend is totally staring at Toshinori’s chest.

“Looks like a sycophant,” he growls.

She rolls her eyes. “Toshinori just saved him from a burning building. Gratitude and admiration, along with some heart-eyes, aren’t out of the norm.”

“Hn.”

“What’s a sycophant,” Kotarou says, twisting around when the camera finally cuts away to a pair of commentators. He peers at Sorahiko’s papers like he can understand not only English, but also Sorahiko’s chicken-scratch handwriting.

Long-sufferingly, Sorahiko answers, “A sycophant is a person who always says yes to another person.”

“Oh.” Kotarou dwells on this. “Like you with okaa-san.”

There’s a beat of silence. The first giggle escapes Nana’s valiant grasp, and then she’s leaning on the wall, overtaken by them. Kotarou looks pleased; Sorahiko starts to sputter and defend himself.

Several hours later, Toshinori’s boisterous voice announces, “I’m home!”

“Welcome back,” Nana calls out from the kitchen. Over the course of a few months, her cooking repertoire has expanded to include boxed yellow curry. It bubbles ominously in the deep pan, set over a low heat. “Watch out in the living room, I think Sorahiko’s still napping with Kotarou.”

“Ah.” Nana hears a murmur. Then the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Involuntarily, she tenses and activates Float, her world narrowing down to the question: who is that. Her hands curl into fists, scarred and white-knuckled. She navigates the hallway to the front door and checks the mirror--oh.

Float deactivates. Nana briskly re-ties her hair, shakes out the adrenaline still thrumming in her hands, and steps out into the open with a smile.

“Who’s this?” she asks pleasantly.

Toshinori hasn’t stopped using One for All, but he’s picked up a white “I <3 LA” shirt. While he can stay puffed up for as long as he wants, there’s an unspoken rule to leave All Might in the streets. Thankfully, Nana thinks, Kotarou understands the secrecy regarding Toshinori’s Quirk.

The reason why Toshinori is still All Might finishes toeing off his sneakers. He’s tall, slender, and perceptibly nervous. When he executes a short bow, his shoulder-length hair moves with him.

“Hello,” Toshinori’s friend (boyfriend? Nana wonders, a little alarmed at the thought, because Toshinori can only have known him for four hours, max, and now Toshinori has brought him here, perhaps to meet the family) says in awkward Japanese. “I am David Shield. It is nice to meet you.”

“I understand English,” she says, not unkindly. “Your accent is very good, though.”

Shield exhales in relief. “I wanted to try,” he says, sheepish. “I’ve taken classes, but it’s just--difficult.”

“You need a willing language partner,” Nana agrees. “Call me Shimura-san, David. Are you here for dinner?”

“If it’s no problem.”

“Oshishou,” says Toshinori happily, “Dave’s offered to build me a sturdier suit! I thought the least we could do is dinner, right?”

Then, Kotarou comes barreling down the hallway, only to come to a reeling halt at the sight of someone new. He ducks back behind Nana’s legs, wary of strangers. She reaches back to ruffle his hair, and notes that David looks similarly taken aback.

Dave, however, is apparently going to tailor a new suit for Toshinori. Nana studies the young man and his fine-boned hands--an engineer? a researcher?--and decides that she needs Sorahiko to take a second look.

“This is Kotarou, my son.” Nana smiles reassuringly. “And of course. A friend of Toshinori’s is always welcome. Take your time, boys. It’s chicken curry tonight.”

She retreats back to the kitchen, Kotarou in tow.

“Are you fixing my cooking?” she gasps, catching Sorahiko in the midst of seasoning the pan’s contents. He doesn’t even flinch, and tosses in another pinch of black pepper.

“Little bland. Overall, tastes like the box promised. Good job on not burning it.”

Nana scowls. “This is because we teased him this afternoon,” she tells Kotarou, and Kotarou finally unclenches his fingers from her sweatpants and laughs. She bops his nose with her finger, and informs Sorahiko, “Remember the boy Toshinori saved? He’s here for dinner, and his name is David Shield.”

“What,” says Sorahiko.

“He’s, hmm, offered to make Toshinori a suit, and Toshinori thought he should pay the favor back with dinner.”

“I don’t understand English yet,” Kotarou complains.

“There’s that too,” she adds, but comforts Kotarou with, “I’m sure he’ll understand Japanese if you speak slowly, Kota.”

Footsteps on the staircase. They’re both heavy-footed, Nana distantly registers, and they’re headed for Toshinori’s bedroom. Which is normal for friends to do. Heck, she and Sorahiko used to have sleepovers together. This is fine.

Toshinori has known Dave for, at most, four hours.

Sorahiko sets the ladle to the side. He appears to be tracking a similar line of thought, because he says, slowly, “You know, when Toshinori came out to us as bisexual last week, I didn’t think…”

“He didn’t have anyone in high school,” Nana points out. “If there’s any place to explore romance without consequence, it’s halfway across the world.” She grimaces. “Also, let’s not jump to conclusions. We shouldn’t assume everyone Toshinori brings home is a potential partner.”

“He doesn’t bring people home,” Sorahiko stresses.

“Before, Toshinori wasn’t able to.”

Kotarou’s eyes flick back and forth between them. Incredulously, he asks, “Toshi-nii has no friends?”

They wince. Toshinori has friends the way someone builds a rolodex; many people extend their friendship, and Toshinori accepts, stores their information (name; Quirk; details about family, likes, dislikes) away in his encyclopedic brain, and never pursues a follow-up. It isn’t something they taught him, but it’s not a habit they’ve tried breaking either.

“He has friends,” says Nana. “So, best behavior, okay?”

Sorahiko grimaces. He bobs his head, but Nana assumes he’ll ask pointed questions during dinner anyway. Depending on how good a mood Toshinori is in, maybe their charge will let the interrogation slide. If not, well, Toshinori knows how grouchy Sorahiko can be.

“Okay,” Kotarou replies, oblivious to the byplay. “When’s dinner?”

“Soon,” Sorahiko promises.

(There is a long stretch of time between David Shield and Sasaki Mirai. In the span of this time, Kotarou has grown up and gotten married and had two children. Nana and Sorahiko have officially tied the knot, and they are in the midst of renovating a small apartment complex in Yamanashi Prefecture. Following Sasaki is Tsukauchi Naomasa. Then Toshinori brings home Aizawa Shouta.

“He’s like you,” Nana mourns to Sorahiko, after cheerfully seeing Aizawa off. Toshinori is walking with him to the train station; it’s fifty-fifty on whether Toshinori will spend the night in his own apartment, or in Aizawa’s bed.

“How’s that,” Sorahiko grunts, locking the front door. They trail their way to bed.

“His kids will be his students.”

He glances at her. “Kotarou wasn’t my student.”

“He learned a lot from you anyway,” Nana promptly responds, and he snorts. She’s undeterred. “Anyway, I can only assume he’ll bond with every class, and act as their collective dad. Tons and tons of encouragement, complete with rigorous physical training.” She sighs as she pushes their bedroom door open. “All those extended grandchildren we may never get to meet…”

“Be glad,” Sorahiko suggests. “I can only imagine Toshinori fathering a child with even crazier dreams, and we’ve finally reached a point in our lives where we don’t have to deal with that shit.”

“You’ve jinxed it.”

“I’ve jinxed nothing.”

Four months later, when they are watching the Sports Festival live on television, staring at a fluffy green-haired boy shout ‘Smash’ battle-cries and perform therapy so bad (so well? The result may have been the goal), he’s knocked clear out of the tournament--

“I jinxed it,” says Sorahiko in disbelief, as Nana cackles and starts texting Toshinori to bring home Midoriya Izuku.)

[panharmonium]

I'm curious if you have any headcanon/any fic plans or just ideas about how Hunith learnt Will knew about Merlin's magic. Sorry if you already talked about it and has slipped out of my attention!

Oh my gosh, any message that asks me about Will or Hunith or Ealdor in any fashion makes me so happy; thank you!  

I'll avoid drawing up an outline for an exact scenario, only because I am always writing more fic about Merlin’s pre-Camelot life and if I end up deciding to actually do this in a fic I’ll be mad at myself for already typing it all out in meta XD  I will, however, talk about some general thoughts, because I do have solid opinions about certain aspects of this whole thing (all my own, obviously; folks are free to imagine this in different ways - these are just my own personal inferences from the canon we’re given).

Putting this under a cut because it got long - you always write me such detailed notes that I wanted to be thorough! <3

So!  Here are some of my thoughts about how Hunith learnt that Will knew about Merlin’s magic.

i. it was not careless.  

In my opinion, Will and Merlin, by the age where we meet them in canon, are not out there goofing around with Merlin’s magic in risky ways.  It doesn’t make sense for Merlin, who is old enough to understand the dangers to his own life and who is also desperately committed to making sure his mother never finds out that Will is in the know (because Merlin knows it won’t go well), and it definitely doesn’t make sense for Will, who, despite his fanon reputation for mischief, is...not actually shown to be like that in canon.

I talked before in my big meta dump about Will that I very much do not read the “he’s always been a troublemaker” line to be indicative of the “pranks and shenanigans” theme that I tend to see in a lot of fic.  The “troublemaker” line, in context, is not referring to Will causing mischief; it’s about Will’s inability to shut his mouth and stop stirring the pot, in the sense of him yelling about stuff that nobody else wants to think about; it’s about him not being able to put his head down and go with the flow.  It’s immediately followed by the line “they’re used to ignoring him,” and what we’re being told here is that Will is the cousin who can’t stop himself from getting political at the holiday dinner table even when the rest of the family is begging him to let them have one single meal in peace.  He cannot let things go, and the rest of his neighbors are completely sick of it (see: Hunith’s ZERO patience with Will when he challenges Arthur in front of the community).

Canon Will, in contrast to some fanon interpretations, is actually a very intense, guarded person?  He’s suspicious and pragmatic and risk-averse.  And I just think it’s important to remember that Will, in his current situation, does not have a lot of time to be messing around.  He was orphaned and left to run a whole homestead as a child.  That’s like...he’s doing the work of an entire family.  Life in Ealdor already leaves little room to slack off, and Will is completely overburdened - somebody in his situation would be desperately busy, almost all of the time, and always on the verge of a potential disaster, if he fell behind on anything.  

So I just don’t read him as someone who is out doing silly things with Merlin in a way that got them discovered by Hunith.  Like - Merlin isn’t careless enough to be goofing off in his own house, for example, and Will isn’t a character who’s daring Merlin to do foolish things for the fun of it.  Merlin is comfortable using his magic around Will, definitely, and we know he’s had at least one mishap in the past (the tree), but at this point in their lives, I don’t see either of them as frivolous or clueless enough to use magic in a way that could get them caught by anyone, or for the purpose of risky/trivial games.

ii. merlin was the one who let it slip

I personally think the lead-up to Hunith discovering Will’s involvement was preceded by two things:

an increase in external stressors (related to the political situation between Camelot and Cenred’s kingdom), making Merlin’s position in Ealdor progressively more precarious/dangerous

Merlin becoming increasingly frustrated, rebellious, and unwilling to hide himself the way his mother wanted him to

The first point is something that I've incorporated into fic, so I think @blueclaw7 is already familiar with it :)  But essentially, when I was collecting info on Ealdor and Cenred's kingdom prior to a previous fic-writing endeavour, there were a few things that led me to wonder just what sort of trouble was brewing in that corner of the world, prior to Merlin's departure:

We know that Cenred makes agreements with slave traders, allowing them to work certain areas of his land without interference (see: Cenred's discussion with Morgause about Jarl in 3.12 - “He's been working our western border for months...We have an understanding.”)  Cenred likely would not allow this unless it benefited him in some way, so I think we can safely assume that he is receiving some sort of kickback from allowing slavers to operate in his kingdom, either in the form of financial compensation or perhaps by having people like Jarl on-call in case Cenred himself needs specific targets rounded up.

We also know that sometime prior to 1.10, Cenred's kingdom and Camelot signed some sort of peace treaty, which according to Uther was “years in the making.”  We're not told how long the two kingdoms had been enemies before that, but my personal interpretation is that they have been at odds for a long time, because the peace treaty doesn’t appear to be very successful - by 2.12, Uther says, “Our treaty with Cenred no longer holds.  We are at war,” despite the fact that we actually haven't even met Cenred in the show yet and he hasn't attacked Camelot or anything (he doesn't agree to do that until Season 3, when Uther is incapacitated and the kingdom is weak).  Uther also later refers to Cenred as Camelot’s “sworn enemy.”  So the treaty just appears to have been a temporary, shaky peace between kingdoms that are frequently in conflict, the terms of which we are not privy to.

We know that Uther “offers a handsome reward for anyone with magic” (2.09, when the bounty hunter shows up with Freya), and we know that normal people will turn others over to bounty hunters for their own benefit (“How did he find you?” / “You can't always trust people.”)

We know that Aredian (the witchfinder) has been operating “in foreign lands” (aka, not Camelot).

So, the question I asked myself was this: why would Cenred and Uther even agree to a peace treaty in the first place, when their kingdoms are clearly constantly at odds with one another?  And looking at the other tidbits of information above, the framework I constructed for myself was that I personally think part of the aforementioned treaty involves Cenred turning people with magic over to Uther - and perhaps allowing Uther's agents over the border to do their own hunting - in exchange for some kind of compensation (probably financial).  We know Cenred is greedy (he's aiming to conquer Camelot even though he is, per his own words, “rich and powerful already”), and we know he canonically has the means to give Uther what he wants (agreements with slave traders working within his borders).  And given that the treaty appears to have been a fairly recent development in 1.10, my personal read is that this treaty was signed sometime before Merlin left Ealdor, and that it prompted an uptick in dangerous activity that frightened Merlin's mother and made her more willing to send him away.  Bounty hunters nabbing people on the road, slave traders being given the freedom to operate without interference, rumors of single agents like the Witchfinder roaming the countryside - all of this would lead to the far more immediate concern of “what happens if somebody in Ealdor thinks Merlin might be magic and decides to make a quick shilling by turning him in????”

I think that is Hunith's biggest concern.  Ealdor is poor.  And Merlin himself says his departure was prompted by not being able to trust the people around him.  When Freya tells him, “you can't always trust people,” he replies, “I know.  That's why I left home.”  And if there were suddenly a higher demand for people with magic, due to Cenred and Uther's arrangement, then there would be more incentive for regular people to look for a way they could turn it to their advantage, especially if they've already been conditioned to see magic as an evil/dangerous thing.  

I think this leads to Hunith being even more cautious, and putting even tighter restrictions on Merlin re: where he can go and when he can be out and who he can go wandering around with, and even on using magic for little things at home where no one can see.  And the problem with this is that Merlin won't tolerate it anymore, not the way he did when he was younger.  Not because he doesn't want to listen to her or because he doesn't understand that she's trying to help him, but because he just can't.  He can't.  It's killing him.  He tells Gaius in 1.01, “if I can't use magic, I might as well die,” and that’s not just him being dramatic; he really feels that way.  He doesn’t just have magic, he is magic.  He can't suppress it that way, without feeling like he's killing himself.

So, to bring us back around to the point of this segment - I think what ends up happening is that Merlin starts pushing back on Hunith’s restrictions, not so he can goof around and do stupid things, but so he can live his life in a way that doesn't make him feel like he's suffocating, so he can just be, without feeling like his entire existence is a crime.  I think the increased pressure drives him more and more frequently to Will, the only person around whom Merlin can exist as a complete person, and I think he becomes increasingly resistant to his mother's directives, and I think his mother gets more and more frustrated with him, because she sees it as him needlessly risking his life, but Merlin is tired of hearing that he can't trust anybody, because he CAN trust somebody; he has somebody to trust right now and he’s had them for ages, and he doesn't think things have to be so dire all the time, if his mother would just see that, but she won't -

And then, when his frustration reaches a boiling point, Merlin accidentally spills the beans.

I don't think Hunith walks in on Merlin doing magic in front of Will, personally.  I think Merlin slips up and tells her, in the course of their increasingly frequent, tense conflicts between “you can't trust ANYBODY/things are too dangerous” and “i CAN trust somebody/i can’t live like this anymore.” 

I think he lets it slip in an argument, as a frustrated justification for “it doesn't have to be like this all the time; things could be better; will's known about it for X years and nothing bad has ever happened to me.”  

And then, of course, it goes very, very badly.

Which brings us to Point #3 -

iii. it was a Disaster.

What I mean by this is that Hunith discovering that Will knew about Merlin’s magic was not a chill situation.  It did not go over well, and it created an interpersonal crisis between the three of them that persists all the way into 1.10.

We’ve already heard canon confirmation of this - “when she found out you knew, she was SO angry” - and it’s obvious that this conflict was never resolved.  I’ve already talked in another post about Hunith’s weird disinterest in/disapproval of Will in favor of Arthur (even after Will’s death!), and Will clearly isn’t feeling very generous with her in 1.10, either - they only interact once, when Hunith snaps at Will to “keep quiet” after he challenges Arthur in front of the village, and after that, they never talk again.  They never go anywhere near each other, in fact.

I know fandom likes to headcanon Hunith as the ultimate mom who is super generous with everyone and would instantly adopt all of Merlin’s friends out of an overabundance of motherly love, but 1.10 tells a very different story about her relationship with Will, and it’s clearly not a completely new issue.  Merlin knew his mother wouldn’t react well to finding out that he’d shared his secret with Will.  It’s why he lied in the first place.  Whatever the relationship between the three of them was before the reveal, Merlin knew that a history of positive interactions wouldn’t make a difference if the truth came out.  His mother would never be okay with Will knowing.

And he was right!  Because Hunith finding out the truth fractures that relationship.  It’s what finally prompts Hunith to send Merlin away.  And that, of course, makes things worse, because a) Will never did anything to deserve that reaction, and b) as I’ve talked about in another post, Merlin disappears without even telling Will he’s leaving.  He just vanishes.  And Will, blindsided, is left in Ealdor with Hunith, who was party to that decision, and he is so...I don’t even know how to describe how full of grief and rage I would be, if I were in his situation.  Merlin was the only good thing in Will’s life. 

I don’t think Will wants to be anywhere near Hunith, after that.  I think he avoids her like the plague.  I think the only reason Will even knows anything about where Merlin is or what he’s doing is because Hunith is careful to chat about it with other people in casual conversation, while Will is within earshot (hence why Will later says, “I hear you’re skivvying for some prince”).  And I think Hunith is probably making a misguided attempt to be kind, by doing that - giving Will a way to stay sort of updated even though they’re not speaking to each other - but I also don’t think her efforts are effective, at all, because the only thing her secondhand updates do for Will is hammer home the fact that Merlin is writing to Hunith instead of him, that Merlin hasn’t directed Hunith to relay Will any message, that Merlin really did just leave without saying goodbye and apparently has no intention of contacting Will again.  And Will doesn’t know why Merlin did that, or what he did to make Merlin not want him anymore, but because Will is who he is, he ends up feeling like Merlin must have never cared about him that much in the first place, and it was just that Will misread the whole relationship; he got his hopes up and let his guard down and believed that somebody cared for him, and he should have known better, because everybody ALWAYS leaves him, and he was stupid to think this time would be different.  And he is so angry at himself, but he is also devastated, and impossibly lonely, because he has nobody in his life, and he has to just sit and simmer in his own pain, because Merlin is gone, and Will would rather crawl over a bed of hot coals than go anywhere near Hunith right now.

And I honestly don’t blame Will for avoiding her.  It’s like...I hate to put this on Hunith, because I do appreciate her in other areas, but there’s just no getting around this: the way she views and deals with Will is markedly different from the way she treats Merlin’s Camelot friends, even though she barely knows them, and despite the fact that she’s perfectly aware that Arthur hates sorcery.  She’s happy to ignore Merlin’s friendship with Will all throughout 1.10, even though that’s the relationship that is in the most desperate need of attention, and instead she chooses to focus on/encourage/praise Merlin’s relationships with people who hate the thing that makes him who he is.  And that is just so...bizarre to me, and I think...I really believe there is a part of Hunith that blames Will for everything that happened, even if it’s subconscious.  Like - I think there’s a part of her that believes that if Will hadn’t found out about the magic, Merlin wouldn’t have been “in danger,” and she wouldn’t have been put in the difficult position of sending Merlin away.  I’m not sure if she truly believed Will was going to sell Merlin to a bounty hunter when he got desperate enough for money (see above re: Will’s situation being a precarious one, survival-wise), or if it was more her fear that Merlin would be too trusting now that one person had accepted him (what if Merlin went and told someone else, because it worked out the first time???  What if he let this thing with Will lull him into a false sense of security?)  But whatever her reasons, she still ends up pushing Will away.  She never treats him with the same kind of solicitous interest that she extends to Merlin’s new companions, and I do think it all comes back to that moment when she found out that he knew.

It’s hardly rational, given what we know about how dedicated Will actually is to protecting Merlin’s secret.  And I don’t think Hunith is like...actively taking it out on him.  But the attitude is still present, as an undercurrent, and I have to be honest about this: the feeling I get from Hunith in 1.10 (and the vibe that I imagine Will was getting from her while Merlin was gone) is that she thinks Merlin is much better off now that he’s moved on from Ealdor, and that leaving Will behind was ultimately best for everyone, and that Will needs to just get over it and understand that he’s not a part of Merlin’s life anymore, so everyone can be happy that Merlin has met such fantastic, fascinating new friends. 

That’s what I hear her saying, when I see the way she completely ignores him while simultaneously loving on the Camelot crew.  That’s what Will hears, too, even if she doesn’t say it out loud.  

And honestly, my heart breaks for him.  He deserved more than that. 

(tangentially, but - I think it bears mentioning, given certain fic trends I have seen, that Merlin himself does not share this viewpoint.  Merlin has never and will never consider his new friends to be a “step up” from Will, and he has never and will never consider Will to be a “past” or less immediate part of his life.  Even after Will is dead, Merlin refuses to tolerate even the barest suggestion of this from anybody - when Arthur tries to say that Will “was a close friend,” Merlin corrects him, saying “He still is.”  Will is just as relevant and meaningful to Merlin in Camelot as he was when Merlin was still at home, and the fact that Hunith doesn’t assign Will as much importance anymore does not in any way correspond to Merlin’s own feelings on the subject.) 

So - the point of all this is just to say that Hunith finding out about Will isn’t an event that ends with all of them coming together and collectively deciding to send Merlin to Camelot while Will and Hunith promise to look after each other while Merlin is away.  Whatever relationship the three of them had before this happened, it’s broken after Hunith learns the truth.  Hunith and Will are completely done with each other, after Merlin leaves.  Merlin and Will are obviously plunged into an incredibly messy situation, thanks to Merlin vanishing without a word.  And even Merlin and his mother have tension - Merlin references the big blow-up to Will in 1.10, but there’s also a moment in episode 1.01, too, that is VERY subtle but also very telling, when Gaius says “your mother asked me to look after you.”  Merlin’s response is just, “Yes,” but the way he delivers it - he looks away, and his mouth tenses up, and there’s this little hesitation and then the tone is almost - rueful, like there’s more he’d like to say but he refrains.  It’s like a “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” vibe.  And the reason for that is because the circumstances under which his mother asked Gaius to look after him were a mess.  Merlin tells us straight-up in 1.10 that he didn’t want to leave home.  The entire thing was a disaster.

iv.  the reason hunith was “so angry” is because will did not find out about merlin's magic by accident

I think I've talked about this briefly before, but here it is in more detail: I am firmly convinced that Merlin told Will about his magic, as opposed to Will finding out accidentally.

It's not something we can actually know in a canon sense, obviously.  And I know the “Will almost has an accident and Merlin uses magic to help him” motif is more common in fic.  But the reason I’m so set on this is because of how Merlin describes Hunith's reaction to finding out that Will knew.  

“When she found out you knew - she was so angry.”  The way Merlin says that - he shakes his head, almost in awe, like it was something almost frightening to behold - the way he puts an emphasis on “so angry” - to me, this has always been an indication that Merlin voluntarily disclosed his magic to Will.  We know enough about Hunith to be familiar with how gentle and calm she is, and how much she loves Merlin, and how kind and understanding she is with him.  I think if she learned that Will had found out about Merlin's magic in an accidental way - ie, in a way Merlin could not have reasonably prevented - then even though she would still have wished that Merlin had told her sooner, she wouldn't have reacted in a way that made Merlin reflect on it like she was scary-angry.  I think she would have understood, if he explained that he'd been forced into a situation to use his magic to help someone or prevent a bad accident from happening.

However - if Merlin had TOLD Will about his magic, voluntarily, when he didn't have to, just because he felt like it, despite all of Hunith's warnings and all of her efforts to keep Merlin safe - that, I think, is something that would have prompted the kind of anger Merlin references.

To Hunith, that would be unconscionably reckless.  After all she's done to keep Merlin alive, after spending every day of her life sick and sleepless with worry - to have Merlin so easily throw her work away like that, in blatant defiance of every cautionary thing she's ever told him - it's a slap in the face.  Plus, Merlin is now in more danger (she thinks) which just amplifies her fear, and thus her fury.

But what she doesn’t understand is that Merlin didn't do it to hurt her.  He didn't do it because he doesn't appreciate how hard she works to keep him safe.  He did it because he had to.  There came a moment, at some point in the past, where he became so lonely and so desperate to be seen that he made a choice, took a risk, and put his life in someone else's hands.

And he was rewarded for that choice!  Merlin never, ever would have made it in Ealdor without Will’s honest companionship.  A Merlin who did not have a single friend to know and love him for those first two decades would have been utterly unrecognizable by the time he arrived in Camelot - if he even survived long enough to get there.

But Hunith doesn't understand the depth of Merlin's desperation.  She thinks that him telling Will was a foolish, uncalled-for risk, when for Merlin it was a lifesaving necessity.  

So, I think that this is part of what makes Hunith react so badly.  And I also think the severity of her reaction (and the ultimate tragic outcome that follows in 1.10) is something that lingers in Merlin’s mind for a long time, because he never willingly discloses his secret to anyone again.  Gaius and Lancelot find out by accident.  Freya, Gilli, and Daegal find out by necessity, because Merlin needs to leverage his magic in one way or another in order to save their lives.  Even Arthur is a forced confession, demanded by desperate circumstances.  

Merlin doesn't choose to reveal himself to those people.  It's something that's pushed onto him.  Will is a singular instance.  Merlin has only voluntarily shared his secret with one person - just because he wanted to, not because he was forced to, just because he trusted them, just because he wanted that connection so badly.  

And it leads to such painful consequences, in the end, that he never does it again.

in conclusion:

So, to summarize, my foundational thoughts on how this went down can basically be boiled down to those four things: it wasn't the result of carelessness, Merlin was the one who let it slip, it was a huge disaster with long-lasting consequences, and part of the reason why it went so badly is because Hunith found out that Merlin had voluntarily told Will about his magic, as opposed to Will finding out accidentally.  

But, as always, those are just my own personal thoughts about it, and I am still 100% happy to read about all sorts of differing envisionings of this scenario - nothing is confirmed in canon, obviously, so for people who imagine this event differently, have at it!  The world can always use a little more of Merlin’s pre-canon life, if you ask me. :D

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

Is it okay that I dont see my boyfriend during this pandemic? He asks me to come over but I don't think it's the best idea to, because it's advised we isolate and my job (that I have to go to because we haven't shut down) is high risk because I'm a cleaner at a venue so I see multiple different people and clean up gross things everyday, but he says that because I can go out to work then I can go out and see him. I dont want to hurt his feelings but I dont think he's seeing the big picture

There really isn’t precedent for this sort of thing. So suffice it for me to say, but you should probably follow the laws. The county I live near just went on mandatory shelter-in-place, which generally means going out for any reason at all. If you’re in an area where that’s happening, just make sure you’re following the rules and regulations outlined by your local officials. Last thing you want is to go to meet your boyfriend and get a citation for breaking travel restrictions. 

But let’s say that you’re not sheltering-in-place. Should you still see your partner? 

I think that really comes down to preference. A cleaner isn’t inherently a high-risk job; the level of risk rises with the amount of people you’re meeting with, not just because you’re interacting with gross stuff. As long as you’re cleaning with appropriate attire on and not licking doorknobs and stuff, you will probably be fine on the front of getting sick, and seeing your partner won’t be that big of a deal. 

The thing to take into account, however, is that Coronavirus is INCREDIBLY easy to transmit. And moreover, people can be asymptomatic for a very long time, and may not show any severe symptoms at all. This means that if you’re infected, but don’t realize it, you could be a risk to essentially everyone around you. How likely is that to actually happen? Again, depends on the generalized risk, depending on way too many factors. 

It also needs to be reminded that young people are not immune to Coronavirus. Just because older folks are at the highest risk doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t. Even if most of us just weather the virus and get on it, there are new figures rising that say young people who do get sick can get severely ill. Quoted from here:

But of the 508 patients known to have been hospitalized, 38 percent were notably younger — between 20 and 54. And nearly half of the 121 patients who were admitted to intensive care units were adults under 65, the C.D.C. reported. 

Nobody wants to get sick with this. And your boyfriend may not be taking it seriously, but it is serious. At the same time, humans need connection, and it’s perfectly natural to want to see the people that care about you. You just have to go into doing such things with the full acceptance that something bad might happen, and decide whether that risk is worth it for you. 

________

As a final note for this, because I’m sure there are many reading this who are in a similar position of wanting to see their loved ones, but are not sure what to do. I’m just going to assume that all of us are dumb monkeys with smartphones, because that’s what we are, and we’re very frequently going to make very stupid decisions in our own self-interest. 

Thus, if you’re considering or planning to visit your romantic partner while self-isolating, here is a quick rundown of things to take into account.  

First, when should you NOT see your partner? 

Are you around sick people? This applies especially to anyone working in a hospital, grocery store, or with other essential services. You’re around a lot of people. Just don’t do it.

Are you feeling under the weather? It doesn’t matter if it’s the cold, a simple cough, the flu, or actual coronavirus. If you’re not feeling well, STAY HOME. 

Have you been to a high risk area recently? This includes anywhere that a lot of people were. The beach, Disneyworld, foreign country, concert. Doesn’t matter. If you were recently around a huge number of people, STAY HOME and see if you develop symptoms. 

Does the law say to stay home? Obey the law. 

And then, assuming you ARE seeing your partner because you simply can’t help yourself, how can you make sure you’re not getting them sick? 

WASH YOUR HANDS. You should already be doing this all the time anyway, and if you don’t know how, a video is here and down below. But first thing you do when you get to your partner’s house, WASH YOUR HANDS. No hugs, no spanks, no nothing. Straight to the sink with you. 

STRIP. Man, who knew coronavirus was so sexy? But seriously, take off your damn clothes. If you drove from your house to theirs by yourself, it’s no big deal. But if you were out and about, interacting or nearby other people, or on public transit, why bother taking the risk of the virus being on your clothes? Bring a clean set of clothes with you, and change into them immediately. Leave them in a corner of the room or in your bag until it’s time to go home, and don’t interact with them. This way, if by some weird circumstance the virus IS on your clothes, you can get all cuddly without transmitting it from surface to your partner, or to yourself. Personally, being a bit of a germaphobe myself, this is the first thing I do any time I get home. 

WASH AND SHOWER. Again, this mostly applies if you were in public or on public transport, especially at your work. But go ahead and take your shower first thing. If you have coronavirus on you, it could be on your skin, on your hair, on your face. It’s invisible, so there’s no way to know. So just take a shower! Easy peasy, and you’ll be smelling great. 

SEXY TIME ANNOUNCEMENTS. Let’s be clear, coronavirus gets into the body through - usually - us dumb humans getting it on our hands, and touching our eyes, nose, mouth, ears, etc. So can you be sexy with your partner? GOOD QUESTION, and I don’t have the answer. So don’t take the risk with your dirty hands. If you want to be physically affectionate, follow the rules above: wash up thoroughly just to make sure.  The other concern is if you have the virus, and you start making out or smashing your partner, you could be spreading the virus. Again, this is no guarantee, and I’m no healthcare professional. But just be aware that this is directly putting yourself and your partner at risk in the event either one of you have the virus. Just be careful, and don’t be a hero if one person’s sick, and the other’s like, “I DON’T MIND I LOVE YOU.” Not this time, player. 

SHARING IS NOT CARING. Lots of partners will frequently share lots of things. Anything from cups and finger-foods, to as much weird stuff as toothbrushes, hairbrushes, and other stuff. Firstly, don’t share tooth or hairbrushes with people, that’s super unhygienic. But secondly, consider sharing less for now. If you or your partner share a cup of water, that’s one more opportunity for someone who has the virus in their system to pass it. Go reenact the Lady in the Tramp spaghetti scene later; right now, just use your own silverware, your own cups, your own plates, etc. 

BE AWARE OF WHO THEY SPEAK TO. The whole point of social distancing is that we’re interacting with the minimum number of people possible. If you and your boyfriend are only seeing each other, and nobody else beyond your work, that’s an OKAY scenario. Not great, but not bad. But if either you or your boyfriend are also visiting family, visiting other friends, going to their own job, etc., this should be a hard no-go.  Social distancing only works if we literally distance ourselves socially. That sucks, but it’s for the sake of everyone. If your boyfriend is visiting his other friends, his family, his coworkers, then you two should be highly aware of the web of people you’re interacting with. You’re already taking a risk by associating with one another; if you two are socializing as per normal, that’s just not good in any way.

Again, I’m not a healthcare provider. Listen to other people before me. But I know how hard it is to deny yourself contact with your significant other. It’s hard on everyone. And I know people are going to do it out of some romantic sense of love, and I can’t stop anyone from doing that. 

My goal here is to minimize the damage. PRACTICE SOCIAL DISTANCING, even when it sucks. Make sure you’re interacting with the minimum amount of people as possible while anyone around you might be sick. If that means that the sucky reality is you won’t get to see your partner very much, then that’s just life. Have internet dates, find other ways to associate. There are alternatives. 

And wash your fuckin’ hands. 

[writinginstardust]

Can’t Fight Love

Pairing: Isaak Andreyev x reader

Warnings: brief mentions of being stabbed, tiny bit of suggestive conversation

A/N: this was supposed to be really short but i’m me so 🤷‍♀️ is there even much point me explaining anything or talking here? there’s like 1 person who’s gonna read this. it’s cutish so enjoy! (oh also I seem to have a little bit of an obsession with Isaak’s hair and still have an inability to come up with decent titles)

Word Count: 3285

*

We were sparring the last time I saw Isaak.

"Your stance was off," he said, his face mere inches from my own and our bodies entirely too close for me to form cohesive thoughts.

"Shut up," I mumbled trying to ignore the heat radiating from his body and what could be a rather compromising position. It was about all I could manage.

"Don't be a sore loser." He grinned as he lifted his weight off me. It was a relief to put some space between us but I couldn't help mourning the loss of contact. He held out a hand and effortlessly pulled me to my feet as I took it. "Want to go again?"

"Sure, if you think you can handle it," I said with a smirk, feigning far more confidence than I had any right to. He rolled his eyes.

"Well I've beat you the last 6 rounds so I think I probably can."

"Don't get cocky on me Andreyev."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He grinned and we got into position. We were actually pretty evenly matched so I knew I could beat him if I wanted and he knew it too. I'd been holding back before, but not this time.

"Ha. Now who's stance was off?" I panted once I'd finally got him pinned.

"Still yours." He grinned and Saints did he look gorgeous. His hair, damp with sweat, messy and beginning to curl a little, some of it sticking to his skin which was flushed from the exertion. His chest heaving as he caught his breath, occasionally brushing against my own where I was leant over him to hold down his hands. His eyes, alight with mirth, staring up at me, so close I could pick out hundreds of different shades of brown within them.

"Well I still won so…" I shrugged and sat up, dragging a hand across my brow to wipe away the sweat. "Want to call it a day?" Before he could answer a voice from the training room door cut in.

"I'm afraid he'll have to." We both looked over to find Tolya standing there. "The Triumvirate require his presence." We stared at him in surprise for a few moments before Isaak sat up and I realised I was still sat on him. I quickly climbed to my feet and offered him a hand.

"Do I have time to wash first?" Isaak asked.

"If you're quick."

"I better get to it then." He squeezed my hand and smiled at me. "I'll see you later (Y/N)."

"See you." And he left.

That was 3 weeks ago. Tamar had told me he was needed for an important, top secret assignment and not to worry but it hadn't stopped me. He could be dead or hurt and i wouldn't even know. He hadn't even said goodbye and it hurt. So, when I got called off duty the evening after Nikolai's party with the news that Isaak was in the infirmary, my heart leapt into my throat and I immediately assumed the worst. It took a lot of self-control not to run across the whole palace just to see him sooner and assure myself that he was okay.

When I reached the infirmary, I found him sitting up in bed looking...not quite himself. His eyes just slightly too light and his hair a little too blond. And of course the scar visible on his bare chest wasn't right either.

His face lit up when he saw me and he beckoned me over. I hesitated for just a moment when I noticed Nikolai, the Bataar twins, and the entire Triumvirate taking up much of the space around his bed. They all looked between Isaak and I knowingly. It was as if they could sense I was in love with him though I had no idea how. I was worried that Isaak himself might know, he knew me so well and if they'd all realised then how could he have not?

"Ah, (Y/N), lovely to see you," Nikolai said with a welcoming smile. "How's the family? Has your sister had her baby yet?" I was surprised he remembered that with all that had been going on. But then that was just another of the reasons he was such a good King. He remembered everyone.

"They're quite well thank you. Katya had twins last week." I immediately felt more at ease and moved to take a seat beside Isaak.

"Girls?"

"Yes, thankfully. Hopefully I'll be able to go home to meet them soon."

"Take next week, I'll sort it out for you."

"That's very kind of you mon tsar."

"It's no trouble, family is important. Now, there's a few things you deserve to have explained to you about the past few weeks but we'll give you two a few minutes first. I have a feeling you need it." He looked between Isaak and I with a small smile before ushering the others away. They didn't go far though, staying within earshot at the bed of a Shu girl who was the room's only other occupant. All of them tried to look like they weren't eavesdropping but i could tell they were paying more attention to us than whatever conversation they were having. It didn't particularly bother me though. Not when I finally had Isaak back.

"Hi," he said, his adorable sheepish smile creeping onto his face.

"...Hi? ...Really? You disappear for 3 weeks without so much as a goodbye, turn up in a hospital bed, and you're going with hi?" He deflated a little and I instantly felt awful.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're alright." I smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'm going to need an explanation for this though." I tapped the scar on his chest.

"I...uh...might have gotten a little bit stabbed."

"YOU WHAT!?" I yelled and could feel tension seep into the air.

"Not to criticise, Isaak," Nikolai said into the charged silence that followed, "but you perhaps should have considered approaching that particular subject with a little more tact."

"You better have a good explanation for this."

"And he does. For the past few weeks Isaak has been pretending to be me and unfortunately suffered an assassination attempt by the Shu last night." My heart lurched fearfully even though it had already happened.

"Ow." I looked at Isaak and found him wincing in pain at the tightened grip I had on his hand.

"Sorry," I said distractedly as I loosened my hold. What Nikolai said just wasn't comprehensible which is why my first question threw everyone off so badly. "So is that why your hair and eyes don't look right?"

Genya blinked at me. "They're not right?"

"No," I shook my head, trying to clear it, and twirled one of Isaak's curls around a finger. "Too light, and his hair's still too blond." Isaak's cheeks turned a little pink under both our gazes and I felt a soft smile stretch my lips. Until I remembered why we were here and I snapped back out of it.

“Wait, why were you impersonating Nikolai?” Isaak’s eyes flicked to the others in question and mine followed. They nodded at him and he finally answered.

“Because Nikolai was missing until last night. They asked me to step in with all the foreign guests coming and I agreed. That’s also why your guard rotation got switched, you’d have known something was wrong.”

“You could have told me, you know. Or told me something at least, even just said goodbye.”

“I wanted to say goodbye, I wanted to tell you everything, but I couldn't." And I could tell from his voice that he really did mean it.

"Why not?”

“I’m afraid that’s on us,” Tamar spoke up. “It seemed like too much of a risk to have anyone else know even a little of what was going on. No matter how much we could trust them.”

“That...seems reasonable I suppose. But how did all this get you caught in an assassination attempt? Where were your guards?”

As everyone fixed disapproving gazes on Isaak I felt my heart drop. He’d done something stupid. Sure, he’d definitely done it with good intentions, but he’d done something stupid nonetheless.

"What…did you do?"

"He arranged a secret meeting with the Shu Princess, without telling anyone, to declare his love or something in a reckless romantic gesture that I admit was very me. Rather unfortunately though, she was actually a member of the Tavgharad pretending to be Princess Ehri. Stabbed him and herself to frame Fjerda for the assassination of them both." Wow. But also ouch.

Years I'd been falling for Isaak. We'd met during our basic etiquette training when joining the palace guard, trained together, hung out together, fought together when the Darkling attacked. He'd been my best friend for so long and I'd wanted him to be more for almost as long. And foolishly I'd thought he might come to feel the same. Clearly not if this was anything to go by. I took a deep steadying breath and attempted to keep my voice calm as I spoke.

"You're an idiot, Isaak. I'm so happy to have you back and alive but I am beyond mad at you right now. I'm…I need some time. Come find me when you've recovered, okay?" I offered him half a smile, I couldn't manage more, and left without another word. I might have cried if I'd stayed any longer and I didn't want anyone to see that.

*

Isaak came to find me the following afternoon. I was training, kicking another guard's ass with a sword to be precise, when he interrupted me.

"Hi, (Y/N)." I held up my hand to my partner and tossed him my sword to hang up before turning to the door.

"Isaak." Still I was mad at him for everything that had happened but the hesitant smile he was sporting took the edge off. I was pleased to note Genya had fixed his hair and eyes since last night and he looked like his old self.

"Can we talk?" And usually I'd be reasonable and say yes but I was filled with frustration and a lot of feelings I wasn't ready to let him know about just yet.

"I'm not in the mood to talk. Come spar with me." He frowned but removed his jacket and came to join me.

"(Y/N), let me explain…" he tried as I came at him, his words cutting off as he moved instinctively to block my attack.

"No." I spun round and went for his legs but he knew me well enough to anticipate the move and easily remained on his feet.

"(Y/N).." He twisted me and I found myself trapped against his chest.

"Stop. Talking." I swiped at his legs and wrestled free as he regained his footing. We stepped apart and circled each other for a moment.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), please just talk to me."

I didn't reply and simply came at him again, this time managing to knock him off his feet. Before I could do anything else though, he hooked an ankle around mine and brought me down too. We wrestled for a minute before Isaak finally managed to pin me to the floor. I tried to squirm away but my body was tired from training and he was stronger.

"Why are you so mad at me? I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on and I'm sorry for making you worry about me but I was just doing my job."

"That's not why I'm mad at you," I hissed even though that wasn't entirely true. He really didn't get it though.

"Well if it's not that then tell me why." I could hear frustration creeping up in his voice to match my own. He made the mistake of loosening his hold though and I flipped him off me to pin him instead, my face ending up much too close to him as I snapped.

"You want to know why I'm mad at you?" I growled. "I'm mad because I was I was scared, because you did something stupidly dangerous and turned up after three weeks of nothing having been stabbed! And then you go and act like it was nothing! You could have died, Isaak! Do you get that!? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me!? Or did you not even think about that when you decided to go and fall in love with a girl who planned to kill you?" I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath as I felt tears threatening to fall.

"Why does it matter so much? We've lost friends before, it's a risk of our job." He asked, voice much gentler now.

"It's different this time. I almost lost you."

"But why-" he didn't get it and I finally broke.

"Because I love you!" I yelled and immediately froze. Isaak's eyes were wide with shock, his lips parted with surprise. Everything was still and silent while we both processed my words.

My heart started racing and I began to panic. I hadn't meant to say that. Ever. Slowly I removed my hands from his shoulders and sat up. I had to get out of there. His rejection on top of everything else wasn't something I could take.

Before I could stand, a hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged. I fell forwards, fortunately having enough presence of mind to throw out my other hand to catch myself. My arm buckled though when I felt a soft pair of lips against my own. Isaak's. Unexpected but as perfect as I'd always imagined.

A hand threaded through my hair while another cupped my face and I melted into the touch. I had plenty of questions but they could wait. I never dreamed I'd get this chance so I was going to savour it. Every moment of it.

He pulled away too soon. But I wasn't quite ready to leave the moment. It took a minute while I got my breath back, but I opened my eyes to meet the rich depths of his, sparkling with something new. Hope, love, joy, somewhere in between. The specifics didn't matter. What it made me feel did.

Absentmindedly his fingers trailed across my cheek to rest on my jaw while his thumb stoked my red, kiss-swollen lower lip. The tenderness of that touch alone had my heart crying out in joy. His smile made me melt and the corners of my mouth tugged cautiously with one of my own as I reached up to lay my own hand atop his.

"I love you too," he whispered, the words and the warmth of his voice wrapping around me and seeping into my very being. He loved me. He loved me. Suddenly nothing else seemed to matter.

"I'm still mad at you," I murmured anyway, thoughtlessly twining our fingers together and bringing his hand to rest beside his head. The action definitely undermined my words but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"Of course you are." He rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly. "Can we save the lecture for later though?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you're going to kiss me again."

"Which way avoids the lecture?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

"Saints, you've spent too long pretending to be Nikolai." I couldn't help grinning along with him though. "Just kiss me, Isaak."

It was even better than the first time now I knew it was coming. The hand still tangled in my hair moved to rest lightly on my waist, a soft sigh escaping me as his fingers grazed the skin there. At the noise, his lips moved more confidently against my own and I opened my mouth in a clear invitation. An invitation he happily accepted.

Everything was slow, languid, every touch savoured and lingering, turning my blood thick and molten. I idly traced his jaw with my free hand, tilting it just slightly to slot our lips together better before sliding it up to tangle in his hair. A pleased hum followed the action and a little smile slipped onto my face as I proceeded to twirl a lock around my finger.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked when I pulled back a little to take a breath.

“You.” I dragged my hand through his hair again and once more that happy little noise escaped him. “You’re cute.” He blushed at that but it only made him cuter.

“You’re one to talk.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and rolled so I was laying on the floor now instead.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you.” He prodded lightly at my stomach, making me giggle. “Are.” He pressed a kiss to my neck, somehow finding the right spot to draw an appreciative hum from my lips. “The.” His hand moved to caress my cheek as his lips travelled higher. “Cutest.” He pecked my nose and my face scrunched up in a smile.

"You're so cheesy." Before he could do anything else funny or cute I brought his lips back to mine, not wasting any time before deepening it. Unfortunately someone decided to interrupt us far too soon.

"Saints, Isaak, I'm fairly sure I said to go make up with her not make out with her." Isaak turned a frankly hilarious shade of red as he pulled away and we both turned in the direction of Nikolai's voice. He was leaning in the doorway of the training room beside a smirking Tamar, looking far too pleased.

"I'm sure he made up with her first," Tamar said. "(Y/N) seemed pretty angry before, she'd probably have punched him if they hadn't talked first."

"Good point."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Isaak said uncertainty as he glanced between us all. "She hasn't forgiven me yet."

"Are you sure? Given what we walked in on, I'd say you looked forgiven enough." Nikolai raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"He's somewhat forgiven." I looked back at Isaak and twirled his hair around my fingers with a grin. "If you hadn't interrupted maybe he'd be completely forgiven."

"I don't know how much more it was going to take but I think it's good we came when we did." I almost choked at Tamar's implication and felt my cheeks heating as Isaak buried his face in my neck to hide the way his was burning too.

"I...assure you, it wouldn't have gone that far," I coughed out.

"Mmmhmm." I couldn't see it but I knew that infuriating smirk was plastered on Nikolai's face. "Well, we came to let you know that we've sorted a couple of weeks for you both to go see (Y/N)'s family and you're both being promoted when you get back. Sorry but you'll have to see a lot more of us all."

"You're trying to kill me, all of you." I grinned at Nikolai though, he knew I was only joking.

"Not deliberately, I assure you. We'll leave you two alone now," he winked as he turned to leave, "don't have too much fun."

"Or get a room if you do!" Tamar called back as she followed him out of the room. Isaak spluttered out an attempt at a defence but was too flustered to manage any words.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." He turned to me with wide eyes and that adorable flush deepening on his cheeks. "Relax Isaak, I'm kidding." I laughed and leaned up to kiss him. "Start with dinner. Tomorrow?" His smile was pure sunshine and my heart felt light for the first time in weeks.

"Dinner sounds great."

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness

Grishaverse: @thats-so-bucky

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hiya! I'm not sure if I'm doing this write but here's a prompt I was going to write but got too lazy: Sirius going into Slytherin, either because he can't talk the sorting hat out of it or he owes it to Regulus or something and then James goes into Slytherin too because of Sirius. It can be as long or short as you want, really you don't have too. Thank you so much! I love Imagine James And Sirius

((Note: Black-typical child abuse references))

The younger Potters’ house, a small stone built cottage, comfortable for three, or five at most, sitting snugly in Aberdeenshire countryside not so far from the Potter Manse, is filled to bursting with guests, all there to celebrate Harry’s thirteenth birthday. Most of them are packed into the living room, perched on the arms of chairs and sitting in small heaps on the floor, and many are laughing at a story Fred and George Weasley have just finished telling about their misadventures with a ghoul. It’s a new story for Harry, and he laughs until he ribs hurt.

His dads are both smiling at him fondly, James from in front of the fireplace, a glass of firewhisky in his hand and looking strikingly like Fleamont with the flames throwing shadows over his dark brown skin, and Sirius from the floor at his feet, head thrown back to look up at him, his grey eyes full of mirth. Harry likes seeing them like this, happy and without restraint, but it doesn’t stop the groan leaving his mouth when Hermione sees the affectionate glances they share and decides to ask;

“How did you meet, Mr. Potter?”

Neither seem sure who she’s asking, but that has never stopped either of them. It’s a tale Harry has heard so many times before, and James always starts it the way he does now.

“Well, Hermione, you see, everyone always thinks we met on the Hogwarts Express, like yourself and Ron and Harry, or at the moments after our Sortings, but it was not some meeting of eyes across a train carriage or a crowed Great Hall, and knowing we’d found our forever best friends. We met before that. My parents liked to take me to parties they thought would be beneficial to me, so I would know some my classmates, and it was at Regulus’s-”

Here he pauses to wink at his brother in law, like Hermione might not recognise him, despite the uncanny similarity he has to Sirius. Regulus rolls his eyes, having heard this even more times than Harry, and goes back to drinking his wine.

“Seventh birthday party, I think, eighth maybe, that I met Sirius. And yes, I did know I’d marry him someday.”

“But Mr. Potter-”

“Call him James, Hermione, otherwise it gets confusing.”

“Yes Mr. Potter – I mean Sirius. But weren’t you only nine or ten?”

“Absolutely,” James says with a grin, and continues his story.

He did not know the quiet boy with the mischievous glint in his pretty grey eyes would one day be his husband, but looking back, James could say he wanted it, even then.

The night was cold and dark, the stars twinkling high in the sky like crystals thrown wide, stuck there eternally. James looked at them and pulled his heavy woollen cloak closer as he and his parents made their way up to the imposing door to number 12 Grimmauld Place. He had no idea why Euphemia and Fleamont were making him go, why they were even going themselves; he’d heard them complain on more than one occasion that the Blacks were awful blood purists and racists to boot. Yet they’d insisted there would be many children here tonight that would be in James’s year at school, children he should get to know sooner rather than later, and so here they were, despite James’s protests.

The front door swung open just as Fleamont’s knuckles made to knock, the woman behind it wearing a fake smile nearly as obvious as her deep red lipstick. By her side was a small boy, dark and sullen looking, half hiding behind his long black hair and half behind his mother. James smiled at him, his lumos smile Euphemia called it, bright enough to lift a whole room. The boy shot him a dirty look, full of sneering disgust, and James could only hope this was the birthday boy and not the brother he’d may or may not be sharing a dormitory with in the near future.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter. And this must be little James!” Mrs. Black welcomed them, her tone as false and bright as her smile. James’s parents smiled back, equally fake and James found himself wondering yet again why they’d come here.

Once inside, an old house elf, twisted and gnarled like an ancient tree, look their cloaks and immediately vanished with them, muttering something about foreign blood under his breath. Affronted, James looked to his parents, but they were still exchanging pleasantries with the Blacks and hadn’t noticed the rude little elf. As long as the older brother wasn’t as sullen as the younger – Regulus, he remembered suddenly – nor as subversive as the elf.

As his parents talked and talked, and Regulus hid further and further into his mother’s skirts, James took the time to look around the house. It wasn’t anything like the Manse, not with its enormous stair ways and wide halls, but looking up the staircase, James guessed it might be of a similar size overall, he couldn’t even see where the stairs ended, up and up, round and round. His eyes followed the banister, trying to find the end, and instead, near what James could only assume had to be the very top of the stairs, he found a face looking down at him, nearly identical to the ones in front of him, except for in place of derision, there was an emotion James knew far better; mischief.

The shark’s grin on his sharp, surprisingly pretty, face was unmistakable even from such distance as he lifted what looked like some kind of ball, heavy and wobbly like jelly over the banister. He caught sight of James, pointed towards the ball, and winked. He knew where this was going and flattened himself against the wall by the stairs, hitting his head on some knife edged plaque, displaying what he thought might be a house elf’s head. The boy on the stairs, who could only be Sirius, dropped the ball silently and hid down behind the banister as it fell, almost in slow motion, towards the dark green carpet.

Walburga Black let out a scream of rage like no other James had ever heard as the ball exploded upon impact with the ground, releasing a wave of foul smelling green slime that splattered Mrs. Black, the whole hallway, and many of her guests, drowning out the sound of his laughter. Any humour he might have felt, and he’d felt rather a lot of it, vanished with the sound, and the look of fury that twisted Walburga’s face, dark grey eyes immediately going to exactly where Sirius had been standing. Most of the guests were making horrified noises themselves, trying to wipe slime from their robes and hair and glasses; they all stopped at the sound of Mrs. Black screaming her elder son’s name.

“Walburga,” Mr. Black hissed, “Do not cause a scene.” He went back to making placating noises at his guests, saying how sorry he was, how much of accident it must have been, but all eyes were on Mrs. Black now as she positively flew up the stairs.

James had expected to dislike the Blacks, even to hate them, but he hadn’t expected the fear that gripped him as it did then the closer Walburga got to her elder son. He had never even spoken to the other boy, yet somehow he felt the need to protect him from his mother’s rage, a need he would find would never go away.

“Mum,” he said, almost a whisper, certainly desperate. Euphemia looked at him, covered from head to toe in dark green as she was, and there was irritation in her face, but also understanding. She shook her head.

The party ended not long after that, though Cygnus managed to clean everyone and everything with just a command to his house elf, supremely apologetic and offering everyone, including James a large glass of champagne to wash off the memory. The Potters might even have stayed had Walburga not come down the stairs moments later, looking completely unruffled bar the small stain of blood on her left sleeve.

James thought of Sirius often after that, though it was a long time before he saw him again. He thought of the mischievous grin, the pretty face, the almond shaped eyes now he couldn’t remember the colour of; were they brown, blue? Hazel, likes James? He couldn’t remember much, except that he wanted to see him again.

The McKinnon’s Christmas parties were legendary, or so Fleamont decided when he announced they would be attending the affair one afternoon in the early winter before James turned eleven. He’d been to plenty pureblood parties since the one for Regulus’s birthday and now, and yet he’d never once seen Sirius again, much to his disappointment. He’d heard his name plenty times though, in the whisperings of other children and parents. The party had left the Blacks veritable pariahs, what with the mess they’d made, and the overreaction of Walburga, but the wedding of Bellatrix Black and Rodolpus Lestrange had managed to lessen the effects somewhat, and James was finally getting his chance to see Sirius again. Euphemia and Fleamont both seemed a little perplexed by their son’s reaction to getting to see a boy he had never technically met, yet they said nothing.

The ballroom at the McKinnon’s town house was decorated all in gold and green, matching the dress Mrs. McKinnon wore when she led them into the room. There was so much to look at from the enormous tree with tiny green fairies fluttering about it to the small gaggle of children at the top end of the room, most familiar now from all the parties. Marlene was there looking pretty as ever in a glittery gold dress that matched her hair, but James’s eyes skittered over her and the other children there.

Grey. Sirius’s eyes were grey, James realised when his gaze landed on the other boy. He didn’t even realise he was walking towards him, grin on his face, until he was before the other boy, holding out his hand.

“I’m James Potter.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, amusement clear in his eyes, but took James hand anyway and shook it once. “Sirius Black.”

“I know. I saw you at your brother’s party.”

Sirius grinned at the mention of the party. “That was good wasn’t it. I remember your face.”

“Your dad gave me champagne,” James told him.

Sirius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly but his grin stayed in place. “He does that. Wanna see if we can make the tree fairies start screaming?”

The boy Sirius had been talking to balked at that, his mouth opening and shutting like a goldfish stuck in a too-small bowl. “I-I-Well I don’t think you should-”

“Maybe if we spin them?” James asked, and led the way over to the tree, glancing over his shoulder to check Sirius was following.

They did manage to get the fairies to scream, and to turn all the green baubles red, and to make the tinsel slither around the guests throats like snakes. After the look of rage on Walburga’s face when a tinsel snake wrapped a touch too tight around her neck, the two boys ran as fast as their gangly legs would carry them out the ballroom, down a spiral set of stairs and out into the garden, cold biting at James’s cheeks as soon as he set foot outside. For a moment they stood still and silent in the dark garden until a burst of laughter bubbled from Sirius’s lips.

His laugh was deep and throaty, and James decided then it was the best sound he would ever hear. He couldn’t help they way he joined in until they were both gasping for breath, gripping onto each other’s shoulders.

“Did you see mum’s face?” Sirius asked between bursts of laughter. “She’s gonna be so angry.”

“Not as angry as the fairies!”

“Or indeed the McKinnons.” The sound of his father’s voice didn’t stop James’s laughter, yet suddenly Sirius was standing straight, no humour in his face, only defiance.

“Who’re you?” Sirius snapped, glaring at Fleamont.

“That’s my dad,” James said when he’d collected himself enough.

“Indeed.” Fleamont’s eyes met Sirius’s for a moment, as if Sirius was sizing him up. Fleamont didn’t even look properly angry, just annoyed.

“James, we’re leaving.” He waved off James’s protests and ushered his son out the door, abandoning Sirius in the garden.

Just as they were getting ready to apparate home from the front of the house, Sirius appeared and grabbed James’s sleeve.

“Mum won’t let me go to any more parties now. You’ll be at Hogwarts with me though, I’ll see you there?”

The boy looked worried almost as he examined James’s face. Merlin’s beard, he really was so pretty.

“Of course, Sirius,” James said. “We’re friends.”

From that night, James and Sirius began to write to each other, and though they didn’t see each other again until they met on the Hogwarts Express, they quickly became close friends. They planned pranks and wrote of the Quidditch stars they’d be, of how they’d rule the world.

When it came to their Sorting, there was no doubting they’d be in the same house. Sirius would go first, being a Black, and James would follow him anywhere, same as Sirius would have.

The house shouted, “Slytherin,” nearly as soon as it touched Sirius’s head, and James had no fear when he sat on the stool.

“Want to be in Slytherin, ey?” the hat said in his ear. “All for that boy? Gryffindor would suit you better.”

“I want to be with Sirius.” James thought.

The hat laughed, all unsettling but shouted “Slytherin!” all the same.

Sirius grinned and hugged him tight when he slipped into the seat beside him.

“Told you we’d be together,” James told him. He’d known since they’d first met, of course.

James grins as finishes his story, stopping only briefly to press a kiss to Sirius’s lips. Harry rolls his eyes at their affecting.

“So you should’ve been in Gryffindor then, Mr. Potter?” Hermione asks. Harry has never thought about that before, about how his dad could’ve been in his house. Or maybe if he had been, Harry wouldn’t exist at all.

“Never,” his dad says. “I was meant to be where Sirius was.”

[swiftwind3]

Everything We Lost

ao3 link here

Ahem endgame who

So, Infinity War destroyed my crops, murdered my family and spat in my face. So, I tried relieving myself with this sadkdfkshs. I don’t read the comics so,,,beware you hardcore ultras.

Also disappointment about how no one's torn The Winter Soldier theme from CATWS apart FNAF style is ruining my life as well. Heavy dialogue (i think) and lots of hyphens lmaoo. Enjoy. and don’t plagiarize of course

Summary: Bucky wakes up in the Soul Stone.

Insp: Nothing Lasts by Taska Black ft. Pauline Herr

Back to the other end, when we fell down

We could not believe we would lose it all

Now the dreams are gone, and faith has drowned

Everything we lost and we never found

Everything we lost and we never found

Uh, Steve…?

Bucky had been expecting one of two things: either the scorching flames of punishment and retribution or the gentle white of warmth and peace, maybe even forgiveness. Definitely not orange. Definitely not a reflective, watery floor under a similarly hued sky that radiated a gnawing hunger and desolation. At least, that was the aura this realm gave off to him.

The sky was full of arriving ashes. They swirl and plummet, becoming people. So many people. So much noise.

The crowd swells around him, people flickering in and out of sight like glitching ghosts. Some cry while hugging themselves. Others stare at their limbs; Bucky having done the same once he stood up. Their cries and shouts drill into his head, and for a weird minute, he thought he was in Hell.

"Cassie, where—Cassie!"

"Darcy! Jane!"

"Bill? Bill, what's happened—where are you?"

"Harley?"

"Excuse me—"

Before he can start his own calls, he whirls to face an elderly woman.

Like him, she seems dazed, eyes wide and watery.

"I'm looking for my husband, I—"

He chokes on a scream. She dissolves into ash, his own being following suit.

There's no description for being pushed out of existence, but that's how he would word it.

Time freezes, and it was like he didn't have to breathe, he couldn't. He couldn't see, or hear, or feel and it felt bad. But how could he be sure of that if he couldn't feel at all? Yet, in a split second, it was seemingly…over. He stands, palpable as ever. He almost heaves over the poor woman, holding her slash leaning on her.

"My God," she wheezes. "What was that?"

"I'm…not sure. But, sorry about that," he shakes his head. "What, uh—does your husband look like?”

Stuttering, she catches her breath. Her eyes flick past him and widen. "Ava!"

A younger woman bursts through the crowd, spinning almost comically. "Yes? Bill?"

The elder woman raises her arm and the girl freezes, recognition steadying her face. "Van Dyne..."

The woman looks her over frantically. "Are you okay? Are you alright? Are you in any pain?"

"No, not exactly. What's happening?"

"I'm not...sure."

"Janet," an elderly man shoves through, held by a young woman. “Janet!”

"Mom?"

"Hank! Jellybean," she cries. Before bolting, she places a hand over Bucky's. "Found them. Thank you."

He tries his best to smile. "No problem."

Ducking his head, he tries to move away, eyeing the sky, the people.

Ashes clump and disassemble, and he remains silent, calling no one. He only stares as he pushes through the groups of people, tripping to a stop before he ran over a poor man as he plummeted just in front of him. Muttering a few 'excuse mes', the world seems to shift. Again, his being, along with everyone else, crumbles into ash. His lungs disappear, and he chokes in momentary oblivion.

Yelping makes him spin.

A girl falls to her knees next to him, her voice hoarse. “What—what—no—what’s—Brother?"

Bucky’s stomach vanishes. “Princess.”

Large, wet eyes snap up to him, revealing the stricken face of Shuri Udaku.

“Bucky?”

Her orange blouse almost camouflages with the light, torn in a few spots. Her trembling hand rises, and he meets it, helping her up.

They hold each other as they crumble into nothingness. When they reform, she sobs.

“What is happening? What is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he rubs her back gently. “Are you okay?”

“No, I—I’m sorry—this is all—insane,” she hiccups. “First, those things got in while I was working on Vision and I got hit, so I pretended to stay down—”

“Wait, they got to Vision?”

Her head shakes. “He—he escaped. I shut down the extraction. I couldn’t get it out in time. My guards couldn’t take the—the thing that got to us and I had to leave it in. I tried fighting back, but I got hit. I heard the window shatter—and then, when I tried hiding, everyone started turning into this and—”

She jumps at him again with a cry.

Silence rings in their minds, the whisper of air hissing in their ears as they resurface. Falling back down into actuality, they gasp for air.

“We really need to get out of here,” they chorus.

With a wet chuckle, she holds his left hand. “Are you okay? I’m sorry—there’s…a lot going on.”

“Yeah, I’m having trouble processing all this, too,” he glances around. “And I’m…okay. For the most part. Got blown back by Thanos, but I lived.”

She nods with a hum, turning his hand. “Working okay?”

He smiles, squeezing her hand lightly. “Perfect. Even…wherever the Hell this is.”

As the ashes rise around them, he tries to hold them both together, failing spectacularly. But as they came back together, he accidentally made them stumble back into someone.

"Man, watch where you're going..."

He wheezes, red goggles and a flight vest intruding his vision. "Wilson?"

“Falcon,” Shuri’s grip is tight.

Dark eyes brighten. "Princess. Barnes," Sam pants. "Just my luck. Guess this is Hell. Well, maybe not since she’s here, but."

Bucky smirks. "Too bad. Was really looking forward to take a dip in a lake of sulfur.”

"Hilarious—"

The air hisses into a deafening silence as they fell apart again. They tried latching to each other, ice overriding their senses as they dissipated in one another's grasp.

The cluster of people phases and glitches. With a crack, their forms break into ashes and reassemble hauntingly.

"Man, what the hell is going on?" Sam stumbles into him. Shuri helps steadying him as he hugs himself for a moment, rubbing his arms roughly. "What the hell is this place?"

"Beats me," he grits.

“It’s not Earth, I think.” Shuri trembles. “I don’t have any of my scanners on me—”

She gasps, whirling. They crane their necks just as the air hissed and hacked above again. Ashes rose, voices becoming distant. Snapping back into arrangement, two women in red appeared before them.

A Dora Milaje holds the hand of another collapsed, young woman, shouting into the air.

"Ayo," Bucky and Shuri chorus.

The warrior turns, startled.

"White Wolf, Falcon—Princess!"

The young woman on the ground peers dejectedly over her shoulder, conceding to Ayo's pulling.

They speed to each other, staring warily at the sky.

"Well, I'm not quite sure if it is safe to say that I'm glad to see you here," Ayo addresses, dried tear tracks on her face. She cups Shuri’s face, bringing her in for an embrace.

"Well," Sam glances around. "It's not exactly Hell, so I think we're safe. You haven’t found Banner or anybody else?"

“Yeah, maybe he could tell us where this is.” Bucky nods. “Or what is this.”

"We are far from that," the young woman's voice is thick. "Hell, that is. And Banner’s…not here."

"Maximoff," Sam says gently. "You know what it does?"

"I know some of what it can do. This is the Soul Stone. I'm closer to the Mind Stone, but I know that this," she lightly spins her hand, churning ashes. "Is just the start of its work."

"In any case, I don't want to be here when it finishes its warm-up, " Ayo snorts. She turns and lets out another call, listening, hoping.

"What else can it do?" Sam leans forward.

"Nothing,” she shrugs. “At least, I think that’s it. The Soul Stone grants its user control over all souls in the Universe. We’re inside the pocket dimension inside it. Like a storage facility.”

"Got it," he says. "Anything on Vision?"

She flinches. "He’s…his consciousness is in the Mind Stone. He won't be anywhere in here."

"So, this is the Soul Stone. It eats souls basically," Bucky provides. "And it’s not going to use us to amplify its power or anything, right?"

"That’s the Power Stone," she shrugs again, weakly. “And…it might. Using our souls to amplify the other Stones’ powers doesn’t sound too absurd.”

He sighs through his nose. She’s lost a lot. All of them have, and he lets his heart ache momentarily.

The tired, perplexed look on Steve face flashes across his mind and he blinks it away.

“Don’t give it any ideas, Barnes.” Sam mumbles.

Bucky hears it, along with the manic whispers of some guy walking behind him.

“It’s okay, Sebastian. You just got a little bit too drunk. God, I just hope I don’t get mugged…”

He wishes he could live with that level of ignorance, for a little while longer anyway. His desire got swept away as a blobby…elf…person landed tripped beside him and immediately stumbled to its feet, resuming its foreign yelling.

"Well, one thing's for sure. This ain't no afterlife." Sam stares after it. "Pretty sure all languages would be mutually intelligible under Father God's roof."

“So, we know what’s happening,” Shuri hugs herself. “But the only why I can think of is…the worst.”

Wanda rubs her eyes. “Yeah. It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

All of them flinch when a wave of ash crashes above them, assembling into human shapes.

“O Great Bast,” Ayo almost doubles over. “We’ve lost.”

"Okay, okay, but let’s keep it together,” Sam goes to help her. “If Thanos did this with the gauntlet, then I’m assuming the only way to reverse it is doing the same thing. But…I don’t how he did this.”

“He snapped his fingers,” Wanda glared at her watery reflection. “I saw him do it. Thor landed his ax in his chest, but the bastard was still alive and—"

They freeze at the sound of roaring and trumpets filling the air and Bucky frowns at the massive cloud above.

"Wanda,” Bucky utters. “When you said all souls—”

Shuri follows his gaze. “Oh, Bast.”

“No,” Sam breathes. “Is that—are those—"

Bucky snatches Shuri, practically tearing Sam’s arm off. “Move, move, move!”

Animals fall from the ashes.

People scream and scatter.

With red light at her fingers, Wanda dissuades the lions, wolves, bears, hippos, and cassowaries that run too close. Elephants were the most obvious, and the roars from lions and tigers were loud enough to tell anyone where not to run.

She and Ayo run at a crowd, the water rippling from the stampede of horses and wildebeests people parted to let through.

“Make a force field,” Ayo yelled. “Sayefa! Sayefa!”

“I’m tired, you know,” a wall of red still rises, her face wincing. “I might hurt them…”

“They might hurt us,” Sam pants behind them, rolling his shoulder before clutching his knees. “Almost tore my arm off…”

“Sorry,” Bucky sets Shuri down.

"It's raining cats and dogs," his voice breaks with a bitter wheeze, gaping at the cascade of hooves around them. "Man, this place is something else."

As more people and animals appear, Bucky feels the air.

It’s not becoming...crowded. There definitely are a lot of people here, but there's also a lot of space. Too much.

A series of distant trills rise into the air, echoing.

"Sayefa! Ha hoo! Sayefa! Ha hoo!"

Shuri gasps, whirling as Ayo lets out a sharp sigh. "Oh, thank Bast.”

“Wakandaaa!"

"Sayefa! Ha hoo! Sayefa! Ha hoo!"

Bucky stumbles back as the atmosphere snaps again. His ashes fly in a brief, stormy sea.

The neighing and groaning of the animals was distant, as if he were underwater. And then, the roaring of humans was loud enough to startle him back into clarity.

Wanda and Sam flank him firmly. Wanda's hand grips his arm, face pale, perturbed.

Ayo wanders out of the shield as they see T'Challa emerging from a crowd, his warriors, along with some Jabari, following closely.

With a holler from T’Challa, a group of them charged, blanket shields flickering. Together, using nothing but their bodies and voices, they herd the poor beasts into small groups.

A few mares, foals, and stallions break away, only to be met with more men and Dora Milaje. Even the hollering of some civilians rises into the air as they seemed to join them. Expertly, they dodge both species’ bucking and rearing, their shouts scattering as they corralled them. 

Crowds of people cheer and clap from a distance, relief warming Bucky’s chest.

The King commands, “Yibambe!”

“Yibambe,” they all echo.

“Yibambe!”

“Yibambe!”

Shuri bolts in his direction and Bucky barely makes out the King’s soft, “Oh, no.”

"My King," Ayo calls, tailing the Princess.

T'Challa takes them for a brief embrace, and Bucky hears the clicks of isiXhosa.

"You fought well, Dora. You fought well for me and your country. We must now regroup. Find out what we can do. Be strong. Bast’s presence and power reside in me still. However, it feels...different. She is closer, but She is farther."

"Do not lose Her, Your Highness," Ayo pleads. Her arms cross over her chest, head bowed.

"Your Highness," Sam holds out his hand.

"I am not quite sure if I am glad to see some familiar faces in this place," T'Challa takes their hands in a strong shake. "But I suppose it tells us what we all feared," he looks around, face saddening at the sight of his warriors. "We have lost. And we are in a place beyond our current understanding."

"I am Groot," an odd, tree stump-like head appears behind him. It blinks at them with large, dark eyes.

Bucky was sure he'd seen it all after spinning a bipedal raccoon like Julie Andrews on the mountains to shoot a barrage of aliens. Said raccoon trying to buy his gun and his arm afterward. But now, he was completely sure he was done. Apparently, the talking tree from Pocahontas was real, too.

"And here is something else beyond my understanding," T'Challa sighs. "I don't know what it's saying."

"I am Groot," it seems to complain.

“Yep,” nods Sam. “Not an afterlife.”

“Wow, Brother,” Shuri smiles wetly. “You were meeting aliens without me? That’s unfair. Hello, Groot?”

"I am Groot," The tree nods at her and proceeds to poke T'Challa's suit. "I am Groot."

"Uh, it is vibranium,” the siblings chorus. “It is a very strong metal."

The tree points at Bucky. "I am Groot?"

"That is vibranium as well," the king's lip twitches.

"I am Groot," it taps his suit, gesturing and shrugging. "I am Groot. I am Groot." It looks at Bucky again, pointing at its own arm. "I am Groot?"

Bucky's head shakes. "I'm sorry?"

"I am Groot?"

"I'm sorry—your name is...Groot?"

The tree face deadpans at him. And he has to stomp on the embarrassment as everyone else also throws him blank looks.

The tree roars, "I am Groot!"

Sam pushes his shoulder. "Man, stop pissing off the tree alien!"

"Don't touch me—look, I don't know what it's saying, I just wanted to make sure—"

"I am Groot," Groot sighs exasperatedly. "I am Groot." It points at his arm and Sam's wings. "I am Groot. I am Groot."

"I'm—I'm Bucky." Confusion trickles through him.

The stump head shakes. "I am Groot. I am Groot. I—am—Groot."

"He's warning you about your arm and your wings," Wanda blinks with a small frown. She steps away, breathing shakily. "He says Rocket will try to buy and steal them."

"I am Groot,” it—he, apparently—gasps. “I am Groot—I am Groot!"

"I am, but this landscape is—it's amorphous. They could be at the very ends of it for all we know. I can't even sense how far it reaches."

The tree sags. "I am Groot..."

"Who the hell's Rocket?" asks Sam.

"The raccoon," it clicks in Bucky's head. "We helped each other out a while ago. And," he takes a breath. "He already tried."

Groot shakes his head again. He seemed to be smiling with what Bucky thinks is fondness. "I am Groot."

Sam gives him a glare he'd gotten used to. "Think I missed you fighting aliens with a rodent."

He shrugs. "Fine. Don't believe me."

"I am Groot," Groot chastises.

"Not a rodent, " Wanda's lips twitch. "Got it."

The air shakes violently and they cling to each other.

"I am Groot," he shrieks. "I am Groot!"

"I wouldn't want to die a second death either," she grits. "But—"

Around them, the shape of people flickers briefly, ash crashing in waves. They break and fall apart. And when they come back, on the watery surface, a small pagoda appears in the middle of them all, a rectangular, shimmering, translucent wall encasing it.

"What now?" Sam growls.

"There's…someone there," Bucky narrows his eyes.

Wanda leans forward. "A little—girl?"

"I am Groot? I am Groot! I am Groot!"

"’It’s Gamora’?" She stutters. "Who’s Gamora?"

Ash falls, and then, people were in front of the structure, yelling the name inside. A man's yell rises above the rest.

"Gamora—Gamora, it's me! It's Quill! Sweetheart, please..."

"Quill, you will not get to her," a woman with large eyes and antennae pulls on his arm. "There's too much pain—I can't do anything about it!"

"Mantis, come on, please—"

The little girl only stays with her back turned to them.

And then, Groot was yelling and running. "I am Groot! I am Groooot!"

"Groot," a larger man turns.

At least, Bucky thinks it’s a man.

Biped, broad, skin color wasn’t human though. Different culture, maybe?

Regardless, that man spins, looking in all directions. Red eyes land on the running flora-alien and his hand rises, pointing in their direction.

"Groooot!"

Wanda starts at a fast pace. T'Challa shouts an order to his soldiers and keeps pace with her as Shuri, Bucky and Sam follow.

"The large man," Wanda sniffs. "Is Drax. The woman is Mantis. And the man is Quill."

"And the other dude in red?" Sam cranes his neck.

"He didn't say."

"What dude?" Bucky frowns.

"He's," Sam stutters. "I just saw—man, this place is messing with my tech, too! There was another guy. Right there…Princess, do you think you check these out? I know you don’t have tools or whatever, but maybe you can figure out the wiring maybe?”

“Uh, sure,” Shuri squints as his goggles, pouting slightly. “How come you got to keep your tech…”

"Sorry,” his lip twitches. “I don’t know. But I guess we got more allies?"

Bucky shrugs again.

"Let us hope so," T'Challa says.

Groot sprints ahead of them. "I am Groot! I am Groot!"

Quill spins, sprinting with Drax and Mantis. "Groot? Oh, my God!"

"Groooot!"

Bucky relaxes his fist as Groot collides with them in a large embrace. Their questions drown each other's, and it occurs to him that this was a family.

"My God, what happened—"

"—I am Groot—"

"—Are you okay—"

"—Where is Thor—"

"—What about Rocket—"

"I am Groot! I am Groot!" Groot sobs, clinging to the man Wanda called Quill.

"Man," he breathes. "What the hell is happening?"

"That's the million-dollar question," Bucky says.

Quill looks up and narrows his eyes. He glances between him and the rest as they approach, a faint recognition lighting up his face.

"Quill, right?" Sam tries, sticking out his hand. The man eyes it for a moment before eyeing his goggles. "Name's Falcon. I also go by Sam."

The man in the red coat peers over his group and the woman Bucky noted was Mantis smiles, nodding.

With another quick once-over, he takes Sam's hand. “Yeah, I'm Quill. Let me guess. You guys are the Avengers, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Sam pulls him up.

"Don't sell yourself short," Bucky shakes his hand next. "Everybody who fought today might as well be an Avenger, too. Name's Bucky."

Quill once again blinks rapidly, frowning at his prosthetic. "Thanks. And sorry about lookin' at you like that. That's—that's just gnarly to look at. Oh, wait is gnarly an insult now? I don’t know. I meant to say your arm's cool and stuff—God, sorry, Buck. But, nah. See, my group here, we got our own thing. That's Drax, and Mantis, and I guess you've already met Groot."

"We," Drax gestures. "Are the freaking Guardians of the Galaxy."

"We kick names and take ass," Mantis puts a proud arm around Groot.

Bucky elbows Sam when he snorts, stepping away with a blank face as the man's eyes narrow dangerously.

Quill winces as he finishes taking Wanda's hand and takes T'Challa's. "Jesus, she's working on that. But, quick question. Did Thor, Groot, and Rocket ever make it to you guys?"

"Yes, they did." T'Challa nods. "And they made quite the entrance, too. They all fought valiantly alongside us. I am T'Challa, King of Wakanda."

"Whoa—King?" He stiffens. "Do I—do we gotta bow or something?"

"I am Groot—"

"—We don't do that," they chorus.

"Of course Thor fought valiantly," Drax sighs, crossing his arms and looking forlornly to the sky. "To underestimate that sculpture of a man is an act of utmost sacrilege."

Bucky glances at Sam, the other man's brows knitting together and studying the air.

"Technically, he's a god but—you know what, okay. Aight. That's fine."

"Rocket tried to buy my arsenal," Bucky mutters, glancing down.

"Yeah," Quill's lips twitch again. "He does that—"

"I am Groot! I am Groot!"

"Yeah, but I don’t really know what that is. Say it again; vibra—what? Vibrium?”

"I am Groot," Groot shrugs. "I am Groot. I am Groot."

Quill stares at T'Challa. "Huh, that’s cool. He says your suits made out of it but—" He glances between Bucky's arm and T'Challa. "They look so different. Rocket’d kill to get his hands on this stuff. ‘course, he’d usually just steal them when you’re not looking—oh, wait. Avengers. Hey, Spider-Man! Spider-Man, come back! We found your Avenger buddies!"

"Spider..." Bucky stiffens.

"Wait, Avenger bud—he's not..." The words die in Sam's mouth as the lanky figure makes its way out of the crowd, the white patches widening.

"Hey, look who's here." Quill points. "You know these guys? And did you find him?"

"Uh, no, nah, I—I didn't see him anywhere," the voice broke, clearly shaken. "And Quill, I couldn't find a way in. I even tried digging—"

"'ey 'ey 'ey, relax. Calm down," Quill grabs his shoulder, glancing at the pagoda. "We'll get to her, too, eventually. We just gotta…we just gotta cool it. Steady, alright? We'll get her. But, uh, here. Here's Falcon—Sam, and Bucky and King T'Challa, his little sister Shuri and Wanda. Did I get that right?"

They all nod and he elbows Spider-Man. "Better at names than you are. By the way, don't you have a cool, superhero name, too, Wanda?"

"Scarlet Witch," she choruses with Spider-Man.

The Spider manages a weak chuckle. "Hey...Mr. Barnes. Mr. Wilson."

"Eh, just Sam's fine, man."

"Yeah, just Bucky's fine." Bucky holds out his hand.

The guy takes it, grip light.

It sort of freaks him out, and he didn't know why. Until his mask retreated downwards, and Bucky remembers.

The tear-stricken face of a young boy meets his eyes.

"Just Peter's fine for me, I guess."

With a shared glance, Bucky and Sam's gazes soften.

"Oh, so I share my name with the Footloose hater?" Quill shoulders him again gently.

Peter forces another smile, wiping away tears. "I thought your name was Star Lord? Or...Quill?"

"My real name, or earthen name, or whatever, is Peter. Peter Quill. You can just...you can just call me Quill. That way, no one gets confused."

"Yeah," Peter nods, sniffling. "Good idea."

"So, you got roped into this, too, huh?" Sam crosses his arms. "Was it Stark again?"

Peter's eyes water even more, and he shivers. "I—"

He falls into ashes and the rest follow suit.

"Damn it," Peter grits, clinging to Quill. "Damn it, I hate this place."

The girl under the pagoda answers him. "I hate it, too," her voice is small and sad. It cracks, but booms over the billions and billions of people they were trapped with. “But we can only leave if someone outside sets us free. Try as much as you want to use whatever magic you have, try to dig as much as you want, but you’re not getting anywhere. Thanos was granted control over our souls, and he trapped us here to fulfill his plans. Half of all life in this universe has been removed and placed where we are now. We’re trapped. And there is no escape. This Stone does not have cracks. And it will not release a single soul, no matter how far you wander, or whatever wall you try to reach. You're better off where you stand.”

"Oh, Gamora," Quill says forlornly. "What did he do to you..."

The little girl merely looks up at him, a darkness far too painful in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Quill. Nothing can really hurt you here."

Quill shakes his head. "I'm already hurting, sweetheart..."

The Guardians flank him, squeezing his hands, and his shoulders.

“What did she mean by this universe,” Bucky turns to Wanda.

“I’ve…never denied the possibility, but she might have been referring to the multiverse.” She pouts. “It’s more of a theory than anything concrete, I think.”

Shuri chimes in. “The multiverse? What does that have anything to do with here?”

“She just said this universe. I thought it was weird. Do you believe it?”

“I don’t exactly dispute it,” she gazes at the ground. “That’s not my area. But thinking that our universe is just one of an infinite number with infinite variations in between is sort of fun to think about every now and then. At least, to me. Maybe we can try asking her?”

“You can go,” Wanda shakes her head. “I’m still…I’m still trying to get my grip on things.”

Sam sighs again. "Spider—whoa. Peter. What can you tell us on Stark?"

Lead weighs in Bucky’s chest as the kid's eyes darken. It was a look no child should have on their face.

"Mr. Stark..." His head shakes. "I... We... I didn't mean to—"

"Peter," a female voice interjects. "I think Ned and MJ are here."

"Ned and...MJ? How—how do you know?"

"I picked up Ned's biometrics when he first found out you being a superhero. I picked up MJ's during the elevator incident."

"Oh. Where are they then?"

"South of here, behind Barnes."

They all turn.

"Ned?"

Ashes flying into the air before falling back down and another two teenagers stumbling past the crowd.

"Holy—MJ. MJ, look—there," a boy shakes the arm of the girl next to him. "I told you he'd be here—Pete!"

"Ned!" The boys crash into a hug, Peter wrapping his legs around the other boy.

"Hey, asshole, " the girl waves, sauntering. She starts conducting with her middle fingers and Sam snorts.

"Jesus," Wanda blinks. "So vulgar."

"What'd you do to her?" Bucky mutters.

"Nothing! She's—she's just like that—MJ!"

"She really is just like that, Mr. Winter Soldier, sir." The round-faced boy peers up at him, eyes wide, but not necessarily frightened. "You kinda get used to it."

"You really do," says MJ, coming up and clapping her hands slowly. "Way to go, champ. A for effort."

"For—what?" Peter tilts his head.

She nods her head. "You're Spider-Man, right?"

Ned freezes and Peter's eyes blow wide. "What—no—"

"—He's not—"

"—These aren't—these—"

"—That's not his—"

"—Yeah—no, these are—this is—these are just—"

"—his PJs!"

"My PJs."

MJ presses her lips together. "So…You brought your Spidey-PJs with you...for the trip?"

"Yep,” he hums.

"Come on, MJ. We're seniors."

"It's not weird. I—I'm allowed to have a thing for superheroes."

Sam coughs while Bucky bites his lip and MJ's eyebrows go up.

"Oh, okay."

"Nope," Peter shakes his head. "That’s not how it was supposed to come out..."

After a moment of odd glancing, she shrugs. "Alright then. Honestly, if anyone had half my mind, they'd just assume what you were up to by the third week of school."

"Nobody just assumes somebody's Spider-Man, MJ."

"You know what theorizing is, Ned, come on. It wasn't hard putting two and two together anyway."

"What do you mean?" says Peter.

"You weren't even trying to hide it, were you?"

"I was," he pouts. "Um...I think I was pretty subtle about it actually."

"Yeah, but you can't really call doing the most clichéd secret superhero shit in history subtle."

Peter splutters, blinking. "What—how was I being cliché?"

She counts her fingers. "Disappearing whenever there's aliens around, leaving your best friend at the party that's bound to boost your popularity, and blowing off your date, literally the prettiest girl in school, at homecoming prom because of something really important. Just those three pretty much fit the bill, but if you don't think so...go off, I guess."

Ned winces.

"Not to mention, you jumped out of the bus, probably thinking everybody was distracted and or apathetic enough to not notice you jumping out of a damn window," she shrugs. "It's pretty amateur stuff, Parker. I've seen better porn."

Peter sags as Ned coughs out a laugh.

"Damn, she has a point..."

"Also, you talked about stealing Captain America's shield during PE once. I was sitting," she pops her lips, rolling her eyes. "Right behind you."

“You were reading,” adds Ned.

“Said who,” she smirks.

Ned lets out a grunt while Peter winces.

"Now, that's just being reckless," Sam snorts quietly.

Bucky's mouth twists and Wanda twitches beside him, a weak smile on her face.

"What, you think you could do better or something?" Ned shakes his head, suddenly defensive.

"I could," she replies easily. "I can beat you at lying. That’s no contest."

Ned gives up. "That's fair."

“Well, sorry,” Peter rolled his eyes before flinching. "I—no. I really am sorry, you guys—I couldn't—we failed—"

"Whoa, hey, whoa whoa whoa. Relax. I'm chill." Ned shakes his head.

"Same,” she smiles. “And literally, we couldn't have done any better, Parker. If I'd put that thing on, I'd probably die instantly. That is, if Stark programmed it to your biometrics—ooh, hang on, can I try it?"

Peter steps back. "What—no."

"Buzzkill," she clicks, strolling up to Bucky.

"You're the Winter Soldier, right?" She holds out her hand. "Michelle Jones, or just MJ."

"Nice to meet you," he says automatically.

"You can still feel temperatures and fabrics with it, right?" She eyes his arm and Bucky smiles. He liked her forwardness.

"To a lesser extent than a regular arm, but yes. I can also still feel pain."

"Oof," she blinks. "That's still cool though. Does it bother you it can't produce body heat? Learned some stuff about trauma in my AP Psych class."

Holding it out, he shakes his head. "It used to? I didn't exactly have enough time to process the trauma. Nor did I let myself really. But she’s the one that can catch you up on the technological details," he nods at Shuri. “She knows better than me.”

“You made this,” MJ’s eyebrow quirks.

“Sure did,” Shuri smiles.

“Lit.”

She presses her fingertips against his and he smiles. He notes her eyes aren't exactly pitiful. They're more...annoyed.

"Nice. Oh, and thanks for your service, by the way. You, too, Falcon."

"You're welcome," they chorus.

“You’re quite relaxed for having technically died,” Sam smirks. “You done this before?”

“No,” she chuckles. “I think I’m just still in shock or something to be honest.”

Bucky nods. “Yeah, join the club.”

Ned trembles, tugging on her. "MJ, quit distracting the Avengers—I'm so sorry, Mr. Winter Soldier, sir, she has no self-control—MJ, you're going to get us killed."

"She's fine, man," Sam shrugs. "Not like we got any leads on what the hell we should be doing."

"You guys got anything?" Bucky smirks.

Ned stutters and MJ shrugs.

"Not the slightest fucking clue. We're just plebs. It's a hard-knock life for us," she sings. "It's a hard-knock life for us—"

"—'Steada treated," Ned joins.

"We get tricked," Peter’s voice is thick, but he joins with a wet chuckle.

"'Steada kisses,” the taller teen beams.

"We get kicked, it's a hard-knock life," the three of them finish.

"How did we get kicked, by the way? What exactly happened?" MJ peers up at Bucky. "Or is that—you know, classified?"

"Uh," he glances with a sigh. "Would you believe me if I said some purple alien overlord wanted to erase half the universe by getting six magic stones and succeeded?"

Her eyes glance away with a tentative hum and her lips press together.

It was an amusing thought when said aloud, and Bucky was afraid she’d straight up shut him down, but after a moment, she shrugged.

"Probably," her eyes flick to Peter. "You're more trustworthy than some people.”

"Hey," he complains.

"Alright, kids," Sam claps his hands with a large grin. He steps besides MJ and chokes on his own amused chuckle. "Let's not try and start fights here. I don't think the school nurse is gon' like the idea that Falcon couldn't keep some rowdy kids under control."

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Wilson. We can both take down Ned instantly," MJ provides. "Peter would probably just knock me out or something—"

"MJ, no."

"MJ, yeah, sure, why not? By the way, is your suit different or something? I've seen videos of you—yeah, it's definitely different."

"Yeah, it is," Bucky says. "The one you had in Leipzig was—I don't know, softer?"

Sam hums, nodding. "This one's shinier."

"Yeah, uh, Mr. Stark. He...he made it for me." His voice quiets. The white patches shrink and removes his mask again, revealing the tears falling down his face.

“Oops, hit a nerve.” MJ nods while Peter bows his head, Ned putting a hand on his shoulder.

"We, um...God. God, why...why didn't I listen to him?"

His shoulders shake and Bucky taps Sam's arm, averting his gaze.

He nods, giving yet another sigh. "Look, Peter—"

"Peter!" The horror-stricken shriek makes them whirl around. "Peter Parker!"

"Oh, shit," MJ bolts behind Bucky. “Ned,” she hisses. “Hide!”

“What, why—"

Bucky almost falls with the breath of the stone this time, feeling his being split apart and drift back together. He picks up MJ before she crumples to her knees, letting her lean on Shuri.

A woman in a cream apron bursts out of the crowd.

"May..." Peter's tears fall without restraint as he stumbles forward. "May!"

"Oh, my God! Pete!" May's arms wrap tightly around the boy. Peter could only let his sobs go as he shook and shook, sobbing and blubbering May's name.

"I was so scared, May...I was so scared."

May presses kisses to his head, muttering reassurances before hugging him to her chest.

"Ugh, I'm going to kill that Stark," she snarls, rubbing Peter's hair.

"No—no, May, please, it's okay..."

"I would strongly advise against that, Miss Parker."

Bucky tenses again as a man walked up behind them, the red cloak on his shoulders hovering behind him.

"I understand your concern, but our fates rest with that Stark now."

“What—who are you?” May glares.

"Dr. Strange..." Peter sniffles. "What—what was it that you saw?"

"I tried to see as many paths to victory as fast as I could," the sorcerer answers as he grabs a woman's hand behind him, pulling her gently to his side. "I saw one."

"Stephen, did we—did we just die?" The woman frowns up at him, a hand around his waist.

"Not yet really, Christine. Not quite that lucky either."

"What was the one?" Sam pipes up.

Stephen takes him in, tilting his head. "Oh, more Avengers made it in here. Oh, boy. You're Sam Wilson, correct?"

"Yeah."

"And you must be Bucky Barnes. You must desperately miss the forties, no doubt."

Bucky sighs. "You have no idea."

Stephen smiles. "Your Highness, King T'Challa Udaku."

"Doctor," T'Challa nods.

"Sorry opening the borders brought you into the heat of things. I suppose power attracts chaos."

"That is very true—"

"Straaange!" Drax roars as he speeds back to them. He descends on the man, swinging. "Why—did you—give Thanos—the Stooone?"

The cloak on Stephen's shoulders rises. It wraps around Drax's fist when he jumps, pulling him away.

"You again? The Blanket of Death! I'll tear you at the seams—"

"—Drax, no! We're not fighting anyone here—"

Quill slams into his front, having Mantis jump on him from behind.

"Sleep! Sleep!"

"I will not sleep here, Mantis," Drax spits. "Both the man and his blankie are in serious need of retribution!"

"First of all, why did your buddy Star-Lord start attacking Thanos right when we were almost had it? And second of all, what if I told you that the reason I gave Thanos the Stone was so that we could win? More specifically, so Stark could win? So he could get us out of here?"

"Look, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't shoot me with your magic," Quill holds his hands up, wincing. "But how the hell is that even going to work?" he pants, pushing Drax back as he attempted to stomp forward. "Stark's still on Titan. And he's with Nebula! Who knows what she'll do to him?"

"She'll probably kill him," Mantis cries as she swayed with Drax.

"I am Groot—I am—Groot!"

MJ moves a little way apart where May is prodding Peter. “You know all these people?”

“Sort of,” he croaks sheepishly. “I don’t know Quill or all the alien guys that well yet. I met them in one of Thanos’s ships while heading to Titan with Dr. Stranger and Mr. Stark and—"

“Wait wait wait. Stark took you to an alien planet?” May shrieks. “Without telling me—no, that’s crossing too many lines, Peter—”

“Aunt May—May, please—”

“—insane—Peter Parker, I’m supposed to be protecting you—”

“I know, but—”

“—looking out for you—under my watch—”

“I know and I’m sorry!”

His sudden volume increase calls even the attention of nearby crowding civilians.

He gasps and bows his head, voice cracking. "God, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. He told me to go home but I didn't listen—and then I blamed it on him and I tried to take it back and—and—he warned me, May,” his hands hold hers tightly. “And he said that he didn't want my death on his conscience and now it is and you can't be mad at him, you can’t,” his voice breaks, tears streaming down. “He was trying to protect me, too. All the way to the end!"

May holds him close again, glaring flatly. "Okay—okay…fine," she sighed. "I won't—I won’t sue him or anything, alright? But he’s still getting a piece of my mind.”

Peter lets out a wet chuckle, hugging her tightly. "That's...that's better, I guess. But wait—" he wipes his face. "Will Nebula really kill him?"

“No, she won’t,” Stephen looks at him and May gently. “What I saw was the best outcome: all of us back, with minimal sacrifice. And Nebula won’t kill him because number one: she has no reason to. They’re fighting on the same side. Against Thanos. Two: they’ve both lost to him and now that they’re stranded together, they’re going to use each other to find a way of Titan and back home. And three: Nebula has no reason to lay off a human and waste energy when she knows a human body will just off itself after food and water deprivation.”

"You better elaborate on that, sorcerer. Director Fury's going to want to hear all about that."

A woman in a dark uniform appears behind them, hair in a neat bun.

"Agent Hill," Sam greets, voice dry. "Not glad to see you here."

"Likewise, Falcon." She smirks bitterly. "You must be Bucky Barnes."

Bucky smiles, holding out his hand. "You're with SHIELD, right?"

"That's right," she grabs his hand. "I'm Agent Maria Hill, second-in-command to Director Nick Fury. More detailed introductions can wait until we're out of here. First and foremost, on my agenda right now's gathering intel."

"Well, we can give you all the intel we have," T'Challa bows his head.

"Your Highness," she nods.

"—fucker, son of a bitch, what the hell happened this fucking time—"

"Good Lord..." Maria jumps a foot in the air as she bumps into none other than SHIELD Director Nick Fury.

Snorts come from the kids, meanwhile Bucky dampens his own chuckle as Agent Hill helps him stand.

"Hill—you're here? What the hell's going on—"

Fury takes in the faces of the Avengers, the sorcerer, and the Guardians. Rubbing his face, he sighs, settling down on the rippling floor.

"What?" Maria's smirk widens. "Thought Hell'd be nicer?"

"No, Agent Hill," Fury huffs with no venom, resigned. "This is much worse."

Wherever the Hell Bucky was, something in him loosens, his shoulders relaxing.

The shock was fading, people were getting their grips on things.

While everyone wasn’t here, they were still in one piece. For the most part. As long as it stayed that way, he could let himself relax. Just a little bit.

[dontreadthistrashgarbage]

Pt. 6

Guerin got a call at her desk halfway through a project she was working on for HEET. Groaning at the interruption since she knew it would take a while to get her focus back, she took a moment to exhale before answering. "This is Go Guerin."

"Guerin it's Han Jisoo. I need you to come to my office right now."

"Yes, I'm on my way." She said cheerfully before hanging up. Leaving her hand on the phone she stared at it for a moment. "I'm getting fired." She said outloud. Her entire life any time a higher up had asked to see her in their office she immediately assumed the worst. Her stomach churned as she tried to calm herself down, then she stood up, stuck her cell phone in her pocket and left to see the CEO of her company.

She knocked gently on the door and peered in to see Jisoo, who looked up and gestured her in. The room also had a PR manager, the company lawyer and HR. [Yeah this is either about the case or I'm being fired.] She stepped inside and bowed, greeting everyone politely.

"You're not being fired." Jisoo, the CEO quipped.

"Oh thank god." Guerin exhaled, her hand going to her heart as tension left her body.

"I've known you for a long time Guerin. Things have been rough lately and we're working on it. You're an excellent worker and overall an asset to our company, and you're a very good friend." Jisoo said, smiling, though Guerin caught the strain on her face and the serious expression everyone else wore.

"Thank you, I love my job and I want to do well at it. I like this company and how it is run." Guerin bowed with gratitude before sitting down as Jisoo gestured. She looked curiously around.

"All that being said, just like we were worried about you've been targeted again by rumors." Jisoo frowned. Guerin's heart sank, she had just started getting back to her normal mood. What happened now?

The PR manager, Jaemyun showed a printed out article from dispatch, "This was published online about fifteen minutes ago." She informed Guerin, who leaned forward curiously. Her mouth dropped open as she read the headline and stayed open the rest of the article.

"WOW OF A.C.E CAUGHT ON A DATE WITH CONTROVERSIAL FOREIGNER MANAGER OF HEET"

The article was punctuated by a picture of Seyoon and Guerin sitting in the cab, smiling, and another of Guerin getting out and leaning over to say goodbye.

"As you are aware, if you are dating a celebrity we need to know so we can react appropriately." Mina, the lawyer, spoke up.

"Yes of course I know! Which is why you haven't heard anything. We're not dating! We're friends! A bunch of us went out for karaoke and drinks last night and Seyoon rode with me to make sure I got home safely after drinking." She felt embarrassed admitting she had gotten drunk the night before in a professional setting, but she knew in this instance complete honesty was important.

"I figured it was something like that." Jisoo sighed and rubbed her temples. "We've contacted Beat Interactive. They're on their way with Seyoon now so we can talk about how to best handle this. Let's relocate to the conference room."

Guerin's phone was vibrating like crazy while she waited with everyone for Seyoon and his company to come. Charlie and HEET had gotten wind of the scandal as well as some other acquaintances. She only responded to The first two with assurances that she was okay and everything was getting straightened out now before putting her phone on silent and putting it back into her pocket.

It didn't take long for Seyoon, Minseok, Beat Interactives own legal and PR team as well as the CEO Kim Hyeim herself to come in. Everyone stood and bowed, greeting each other appropriately before settling in to discussions.

"Go Guerin has already informed us that they were not on a date." Jaemyun started.

"Kim Seyoon confirmed that, he said they met with a group and he made sure she got home safe as a friend." Started the other PR manager.

Seyoon tilted his head slightly and raised his hand, "Excuse me, but that's not exactly what I said."

For a moment everyone looked at him before Hyeim finally spoke up, "Is there something you want to clarify further?"

"Ah... yes. I said we did meet with a group of friends and it wasn't a date, and that I did excort her home. But it wasn't as a friend." He seemed to have finished talking despite everyone staring at him in need of more information. A few people glanced at Guerin but she was just as lost and put her hands up defensively, unable to withhold an awkward laugh.

"Kim Seyoon, please excuse us but could you explain what you mean by that." Jisoo requested in a polite but stressed voice.

"I like Guerin." He said simply, looking at Jisoo, before his eyes went to Guerin who stared back at him in shock, hands over her mouth, "I've been meeting her as a friend but also with the intention of developing a relationship eventually."

Guerin let out another awkward laugh through her fingers, eyes wide as she ran her hands through her hair in shock before stopping at her neck. Blinking rapidly she tried to center her thoughts.

"I'm guessing this is news to you." Mina stated with a sigh.

"Yea- yes. This is not what I expected." Guerin corrected her formality, sitting up and trying to look professional again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want it to come out this way." Seyoon said, still watching Guerin's reaction with his unreadable expression. He finally broke his stare and glanced around making it clear the apology was also intended for the rest of the people in the meeting.

"That complicates things." Jisoo frowned and looked at Hyeim, "What is your company policy on dating?" Everyone got filled in on the rules, Seyoon looking back to Guerin who was now chewing her lip thoughtfully. He smiled at her again and she couldn't help sending a smaller smile back to him.

"Go Guerin." Jaemyun brought her back to reality, "If you two are dating we'll need to-" she stopped talking to see Seyoon had raised his hand to politely interrupt again.

"I'm sorry, but we aren't dating. Guerin has only just heard of my intentions and she has not responded." Seyoon smiled as though unaware of the tension. Hyeim put her face in her hands and Jisoo coughed as they both tried to hide what might have been a chuckle.

"I see." Jaemyun nodded slowly, "Go Guerin, are you planning on responding to Kim Seyoon soon or should we write a statement without one?"

"I'm- I'm so sorry." Guerin looked around at everyone, "I've just been taken by surprise. I don't know what to say. And the talk I need to have is... a private one with Kim Seyoon." She finished the sentence hyper aware of how inappropriate it sounded, but relied on the others to understand.

"Why don't we get started on the first part while you two talk? There's some other details we need to address as well regarding Guerin's current legal issues." The Beat Interactive lawyer said. Guerin started as though he had slapped her in the face. Of course that would be a problem now, the case hadn't been resolved so her reputation was controversial and could affect all of A.C.E. Recovering she stood and bowed, then followed Seyoon out.

He turned to her just outside the door but she moved past him, grabbing his sleeve and leading him to a smaller unoccupied meeting room. Closing the door she let out an exhale and leaned against it, eyes shut for a moment as she recuperated. Blinking her eyes open she met Seyoon's gaze and couldn't help but laugh, shoving him slightly.

"What the hell Seyoon?!"

"I was gonna talk to you tonight but, it seemed like a bad idea to hide that." He shrugged.

"I mean yeah, can you imagine if they said we were just friends for that to change in what a week? A month? That would have sucked." Guerin agreed.

"So, if it would have changed," he took a step toward her, taking her words literally, "Does that mean they have?"

"I- I mean." She stammered then put her hand on his chest to stop his approach. "You're distracting me!" Guerin complained. His smile grew, narrowing his eyes mischeviously.

"So you find me distracting?" He wiggled his eyebrows and bit his lip bit didnt advance any closer.

"Yeah of course!" She couldn't hide it, "You're too damn sweet and cute and weird and handsome. You're fun and you keep me on my toes but you also are so genuinely supportive and kind, aaaaaaahhh." She groaned covering her face with her hands again. He reached for her wrists and took her hands in his, holding them both between them. She sighed hopelessly at him.

"You said you acted without thinking last night. I thought you meant that it was a mistake."

"Ah... I meant that I wasn't thinking because I just wanted to be in contact with you." He swung her hands in his lightly as though showing her what he meant, "But I didnt want to say it over text."

"I was actually disappointed." She admitted with a laugh.

"Does that mean you like me too?" He wiggled his shoulders at her and made her chuckle. Guerin peered into his eyes pensively, her heart beating rapidly.

"... yeah. I do. Of course I do."

He pulled her toward him, wrapping her arms around himself before hugging her tightly back. She stepped into it willingly, as she rested her chin on his shoulder and his body against hers, in her arms, it felt surreal. She had idly wondered what embracing him would feel like and now it was happening. But reality brought her back to her senses. Remembering the biggest obstacle, she reluctantly pulled away from him. He was still grinning but it faded slightly at her expression of regret.

"Seyoonie, even if I like you I don't know that we should date..." she started.

He tilted his head inquiringly, waiting for her to continue, "Your lawyer mentioned my case... I have a really bad reputation right now. It's already risky enough when an idol dates but... someone like me? A foreigner with rumors of attacking a fan? How would that affect A.C.E? Your whole career?" She trailed off again, not knowing what to say next.

Seyoon looked pensive and nodded slowly before speaking, "I love being a singer. It's my dream and I don't want to lose that."

"I know, and no one is worth giving that up for!" She agreed quickly.

"We know you're innocent. That's going to be revealed soon." He nodded along with his own reasoning, "And I'm going to get married someday. So I might as well begin with someone I like."

Guerin laughed loudly at his self satisfied expression with his simple logic, "You're too cute, it's killing me."

"Noonaaaa don't die yet." He poked his own cheek as he pouted, "We haven't even kissed yet."

"You little." She failed to look stern and tapped his lips lightly with her hand. He responded by wiggling closer to her. Getting swept up she chose to meet his challenge, moving forward she pecked him suddenly on the lips, then ducked away.

"Hey, wait I wasnt ready!" He called out surprised and reached out to grab her. She spun his arm and turned him so she was facing him and he was up against the wall as she smirked at him in his surprise before he licked his lips and gave a naughty smile.

"Okay, so get ready again." She moved her hands to his torso and leaned in again, eyes fluttering closed. He leaned in the rest of the way to kiss her lingering for a few seconds before they both begrudgingly separated.

"So... we should find out what our bosses have to say. About us..." she felt disheveled suddenly, straightening her clothes and running her hands through her hair. He watched her with a smile before taking her hand again.

"First, you have to tell me." He said.

"Tell you what?" She asked.

"You have to tell me you like me."

"I already did! And then I showed you." She winked then laughed in embarrassment.

"No, you only agreed with me." He glanced up, "and then you showed me." He nodded and looked back at her, "But I want to hear the words."

"Youuuu..." she trailed off, her heart unable to handle this giant baby.

"Noona. Go Guerin! I like you. Do you like me?" He said earnestly.

"Hmmmm..." she teased him, but couldnt Deny him for long, "Seyoonie. I like you." She stated.

"Perfect, now theres no question." He beamed, "you should give me a piggyback ride back to the conference room."

"Absolutely not. Any other time I'm game but we have enough trouble right now." She laughed at his feigned disappointment and snuck him a kiss on the cheek, "have that to keep you happy until after work today." She left for the door and he trotted along after her once he recovered.

The rest of the meeting was a lot of talking, phone calls, more talking, a lot of stress all punctuated by Guerin and Seyoon sneaking glances at each other and trying to not look too pleased due to the stress levels of everyone else involved. Ultimately it was decided that Beat Interactive would announce that while the two were not dating at the time the photos had been taken, they had begun dating recently and hadn't had a chance to confirm before the article was released. In the meantime, PWER, the company Guerin worked for, had gotten clearance from the police department for some details of the case while the police department worked on their own statement since the investigation had been concluded. No one was convinced that it was an ideal scenario but they hoped with everything coming together it could minimize this particular PR nightmare.

"I never should have let you meet them." Minseok complained to Guerin as they trailed out.

"I didn't start this!" Guerin responded defensively, "Besides its not my fault I'm irresistible."

Minseok groaned as Seyoon smiled and held Guerins sleeve for a moment. She glanced at him and slowed a step as he pulled gently backwards.

"Can we still meet after my practice tonight?" He asked quietly so others around wouldn't hear.

"I don't see why not, I was planning to anyway." Guerin said.

He looked around to see if the hallway was clear before sneaking a kiss to her cheek, then speeding past her to catch up with Minseok, his dangerous smile back in place.

"Guerin?" Jisoo looked back suddenly from ahead of everyone, "Will you meet me in my office after I see our guests out?" She asked.

Guerin nodded and when it was appropriate ducked away to Jisoo's office, certain she was getting fired as per her usual anxieties, but also logically knew it wouldnt be likely at this point.

While waiting for Jisoo she pulled out her phone to catch up on her blown up messages.

Han Jisoo returned before Guerin could text HEET through Woojin's phone. The two went into the CEO's office and as soon as the door closed, Jisoo spun on her friend and began smacking her in the arm repeatedly.

"Hey, you're my boss now you're not allowed to do that!" Guerin said in English, laughing and cringing away but otherwise letting it happen.

"You are such a problem sometimes aaah!" Jisoo responded with a final smack, also in english. "And this is how I'm supposed to find out one of my best friends is dating?? And an idol no less!"

"To be fair, I also just found out the same way which is, arguably, worse." Guerin rubbed her eyebrow subconsciously. "None of this even feels real."

"Well it is and now it's my mess to help clean up." Jisoo crossed her arms. Guerin looked at the ground guiltily causing Jisoo to sigh, uncross her arms and hug her friend, "I know it's not your fault. It's just an unfortunate pain in the ass."

"Guerin laughed and hugged Jisoo back, picking her up for a moment, "It's so cute when you swear in English!"

"Hey. Boss. Remember?" Jisoo protested disingenuously.

"It's payback for hitting me."

Jisoo tsked and changed the subject, "Mina is going to come here to talk you through how we're handling the court case since you'll need to testify. But first I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I honestly havent processed most of today yet so I'm not sure. I was starting to be okay again and I think right now I'm okay too?" Jisoo nodded, knowing her friend had more to add and waited, "I was also wondering... how does this affect me working with HEET again...?"

Jisoo looked serious, "As of right now you not being manager is only temporary. We do need to see how things shake out but nothing has changed. Hopefully with the resolution of this case things will work out."

Guerin nodded in understanding. Jisoo had been friends with Guerin before she had even moved to South Korea as they had met in the states where Jisoo attended school and done internships at record companies around the world to broaden her knowledge of the industry. It helped her family was very well off and able to help her start her own company once she had returned. At that time Guerin was nearing the end of teaching English when Jisoo offered her a job. Guerin would forever be grateful for her friend and knew she had her best interests at heart.

"Jisoo, thanks for sticking with me. I'll fo my best." She said in Korean, it just seemed more genuine.

Jisoo was spared a heart warming response as Mina arrived.

The men of A.C.E were called into a meeting once Hyeim and Seyoon returned from their meeting with PWER. The four other members had an inkling of what it would be about given they too had seen the Dispatch article. Jun had texted Charlie who hadn't had much more information than he did at the time. Once everyone was seated, papers with the statement were passed out but Kim Hyeim talked before they could read it.

"On those papers your holding we have written a statement concerning Kim Seyoon and Go Guerin dating. We've agreed to let PWER and the police handle the statements regarding Go Guerin's legal case. Hopefully with her proven innocence and releasing of actual footage of what happened we won't get much extra blowback to an already risky announcement. Also you should know that as of this afternoon Go Guerin and Kim Seyoon have expressed an interest in dating and going forward they would like to be up front and honest about it."

The expressions on everyone's face changed wildly as she spoke, except for Seyoon who maintained his normal unreadable face, watching her despite the others looking around at each other.

"Wait." Chan started, "So it's TRUE?"

"It wasn't last night but apparently it is now." Kim Hyeim said with a crooked smile.

"Since when did you-?" Jun sputtered and stopped, "So...." the king of reactions lived up to his name as every thought raced through his brain.

"Good for you Wow!" Byeongkwan fist bumped his hyung.

"It's not how I expected you to go for it but it works." Donghun said, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"I didn't even know you felt that way about her?" Chan added, still shocked but smiling along, "Wait, what does that mean for-" he started and the boys swung their gaze to Jun.

Hyeim watched this curiously, "Park Junhee is there something wrong?"

"I wanted to tell you today but..." he trailed off for a moment, "Ah... I also confessed to a woman last night and she might be my girlfriend soon."

Kim Hyeim was frozen, then rested her face in her hands for a moment before looking up to Minseok who appeared just as shocked as she was, "Maybe we should rescind the idea that they can date." She said dryly.

"I'm so sorry I didn't know this was happening. I thought they were friends I didn't think they were their type!" Minseok said in a rush.

"What does that mean?" Jun asked with a hint of aggression as he and Seyoon snapped their faces toward their manager.

"I just meant they're foreigners and I just, i thought you each had a different type and with them being older and Guerin is a lot... they're really good people I'm sorry I'm just shocked." Minseok tried to explain.

Hyeim interrupted, sensing an argument and not wanting to deal with that on top of everything else. "Minseok will chat with me later." She shot him a look, also displeased with his judgment toward women and he bowed his head at the visual scolding, "What we need to figure out now is how we're going to handle the second announcement. I'll get someone from PR to meet with me, Park Junhee and his girlfriend. Until then we'll go through with what we planned for Kim Seyoon since with that article we do not have the luxury of time to discuss things."

She looked at all the boys, "I expect this to have an impact on the fanbase. We've just wrapped up promoting but maybe we can work on a special project for Choice to communicate with them. Think it over and let's start something soon."

The meeting was dismissed and Minseok hung back to talk to Hyeim as the boys meandered back to their practice room.

Guerin waited outside the door to the dance room as HEET wrapped up their practice inside. When their dance instructor left Guerin put a finger to her lips and winked so as not to give away the surprise. She was holding bags of fried chicken and iced coffee for the boys. The dance instructor smiled back and moved on without a word. Peaking around the corner she snuck in while the boys were straightening up or sitting on the ground catching their breath.

"Special delivery!" Guerin announced loudly, holding up the bags of goods. Byoungjin, Minhwan and Seungbin all startled at her sudden appearance, but once all five saw her they hopped up and ran over. Gabriel relieved her of her bags with Minhwan as Seungbin hugged her, Byoungjin held back with Tobio for his turn. Once they had all gotten their hugs in (Guerin had to guilt trip Gabriel and interrupt him setting up for the meal) they settled down to eat with Woojin.

"Woojin told me when your lesson ended and I asked him to let me bring you all food." Guerin explained, handing Seungbin and Gabriel next to her some extra chicken, "Are you boys being nice to him?" They all nodded through bulging cheeks.

"They've been working very hard." Woojin added with a small smile. He seemed the quiet accommodating type so Guerin was happy to hear the boys had seemed to accept him.

"I'm glad." She beamed at HEET as they dug in. "I don't know if you guys have heard anything but I wanted to stop by because I have some news."

"Are you gonna be our manager again!?" Gabriel called out through a full mouth.

"No, dummy. It's probably about the dispatch article." Tobio retorted and he shoved Gabriel away as he leaned into his Japanese teammate smacking his mouth annoyingly loud.

"Tobio is right. It's about the article." Guerin interrupted their bickering.

"Were you really on a date with Wow-hyung?" Minhwan asked, stunned.

"Well, no. We all met as a group of friends and he was making sure I got home safe." Despite telling the truth Guerin felt guilty so she moved on quickly, "But this afternoon after the article came out... while we were discussing how to address it... Seyoonie did confess."

The boys erupted, even shy Woojin reacted with surprise while Seungbin had leapt up, "I KNEW IT! NOONA I KNEW IT WHEN I SAW YOU AFTER THE ZOO!"

Gabriel was downright crowing in excitement as Byoungjin sat in shocked silence and Minhwan clapped excitedly. Only Tobio kept his head enough to ask "But what did you say?"

The boys all quieted again at his question. Guerin felt her face get warm as she responded, "Well he's my boyfriend now." The boys all erupted again, alternating between shocked and happy. Guerin waited for them to calm down before speaking again.

"I double checked with Han Jisoo and she said it so far hasn't meant I can't come back as your manager. But we still need to wait to clear the court case and we will need to see how the public reacts to the statement that we are now in a relationship."

Minhwan frowned, "So if a bunch of people decide to hate you, you won't be our manager?"

Guerin paused, "If it means you aren't safe. And we don't want to hurt your image." The boys looked crushed, "Your debut was strong, and you've all trained so long and so hard for this. I won't let something like my personal life ruin your futures." She added firmly.

"Noona..." Seungbin snuggled up to her and she put her arm around him, "They can't hate you right?"

Guerin wanted to comfort them, looking at all five faces of HEET- even empathetic Woojin seemed sad - but she wouldn't mislead them, "It's unlikely it'll come to that. We'll just wait and see and keep working hard okay? All of us."

Gabriel sulked, "Seungbin-ah was right. Seyoon-hyung was going to steal you from us."

"I understand that's how it looks, but I promise that wasn't the intention. Please don't hold it against him." She squeezed Seungbin and looked at all of them, "I love you all dearly and even if I'm not your manager I'm still working for PWER and we can see each other often like we have been. But my goal is to come back as your manager okay? I haven't forgotten you." The boys nodded quietly.

"Come on, let's finish eating." She encouraged them, changing the subject, "You also need to show me your new dance so far, I heard it's very challenging!"

Before long the seven of them had settled back into cheerful chatter about what HEET was working on next.

[the-firebird69]

We nearly lost our son, is the other day and he's had it with everybody screaming and yelling riding his bike some rode by was yelling at him when you stopped and instead of had it with this and he put his bike on the kickstand and sat there for a minute and he didn't move but they were moving and they were moving up to grab him and he moved out of the way okay well this is a fabricated story I can tell about 20 times that they almost ran into him I'm sick of this routine means I want these people brought in and he's very angry there going at him and I understand it's for us and there's under dress but we understand what we're doing and it's not responsible for us not to do it and for our people he said first and foremost are people are to be considered and he's not spying on these people and we have to so come on now

Thor Freya

We hear that last part and it's ridiculous we assume he's there doing some kind of job that he's not doing and a lot of people are saying all such a weird s*** about it and we got to get in there and do it and he needs people are here doing it this is over means it's too late but I'm too old to go through the skin and we have to do it nobody in massive bases here we need to know what's going on I don't want to fool around with us anymore basically we're taking over New Zealand and Australia as well and they only have a few cities and they're going to know it and this is going to be a pain and we have to turn the storm and we need the intel on it right away and he said they're screwing around with everybody and it's a perfect time to do it and we agree so preparing and he says we need a massive force of infiltrators for tonight we need a huge one we need to tell Thor and Freya they were doing it because boy they are really upset and they should be and everybody because these people are such a huge pain and the other ones with the Intel you seem like idiots. She heard all that and we went to town it was going into Thor and tell you they said you need people here here and here so we haven't started yet I can't listen to me and he said good and just let me know immediately it's recovery is not right so when I say is every 15 minutes I think that's military times so give me Duke Nukem Blockbuster, we need to get Intel and I need you to focus on this for a minute and have Frank Castle Hardcastle assistant we need to keep an eye on the devices too and have them really go at it at the same time but we really need we need the military style in here now and we get that so we're going to go ahead and do it I'm going to get everybody involved all the races of our people so we hear that too and rejoice and does it works and it's not time to be fooling around with anybody we really need to get it done

Nuada Arrianna I got a huge Force going in and we're going to make sure that things get done his jive turkeys in the neighborhood or just huge jerks and they really don't do much and they don't have much going on and they lost tons of stuff they don't feel too bad cuz they're always poor anyways so we're moving in and we have to show them up big time or he's going to fall in foreigners are not doing it they should know it's at stake and they don't and he's saying it now foreigners my my parents my papa's and stuff you guys are out to lunch those diamonds are in there and Tommy f is in there and these people are not doing anything they're waiting for him to get it built so I can take it over and if they build it here they're aiming at my wife and I can probably move it they give me Amy at you and having me here and threatened to grab my people probably bring them here I mean this is this is it it's either do or die and I believe that my parents in Germany are hearing me and they are and in Asia way chain Lynn is answering says you heard it and they said no you got a Germans over you and so we're saying it and we're going to move in we're going to do stuff it's very dangerous here and that's one reason why and a huge wise asses and snide jerks it's a very big hint we need to look at what's going on we need to break this blockade and hell if I'm saying it's the empire and probably both involved and it's a game click and Clack freaking frack and it's still a huge matrix in Australia so they're liars and they got caught in it just now we can lean says and our sense is perfect

Thor Freya

We're moving out now we have huge numbers of infiltrators and we have tons of them and Hera said I got a huge huge group together huge she says much bigger than normal and cuz all these bugs here it's like nobody was here and nobody stays here and I don't want to have a small group I want to have a big one I'm talking about like a billion of ours the infiltrate here we have tunnels they're huge and we have to know if people are watching and we have to find it out every piece of it and if there's things that lead anywhere all this stuff needs to be looked at right now and so she panicked and retired everybody

[mydiarymyheart]

It scares me how I am always genuinely taken aback every time someone tells me their family isn't dysfunctional and abusive to them. Whenever I meet new people, 95% of the time, they love their family, so I don't know why it still surprises me every single time. It scares me that it is a norm and I know it's one of the things that, if not, should be looked at as an outlier, but it is all that I have ever known. It's the norm to me. It's become the only thing that makes sense, when it shouldn't be. Now that I look back, there's only a handful of people I know that have dysfunctional families, but because it's everything I've ever known, I never second-guessed it. All my life, I immediately assumed everyone's stories were similar to mine, when it isn't the case.

I wonder if it'll affect my family dynamics once I start my own. I hope to God it doesn't. I hope I get to break the cycle, and that my children are raised with the love and affection that I never got. I promised myself I'd work harder than I ever have to make sure it would be that way. I look at my friends and even the artists that I keep up with, and they all seem to have loving families. Just the very idea is so, so foreign to me, and that fact alone terrifies me to my core. I have never known the love that they feel for their parents and I wonder if I ever would reach that point. I made it my New Year's resolution this year to forgive my parents, but loving them.. That's an entirely different story, and I have a feeling it'd still take years after I manage to forgive them.

I wonder how my future partner would look at me, knowing I don't even love my parents. I wonder if they would understand because by then, they would know my entire story, right? Would they still think I'm a bad person for not having even an ounce of love and appreciation for the people that brought me into this world? I hope they would still love me either way. I promise I'm trying. When I get to be a part of your family, I hope you don't question my ability to love your parents, your sisters and brothers as if they were my own. I am still very capable of love (you would know best) when it comes to people who don't have a rap sheet of abusing 5-year-old me. I hope you won't look at me any different then than the moment you first fell for me.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN WAY

The practice seems to have begun in China, where starting in 587 candidates for the imperial civil service had to take an exam on classical literature. For unambitious people, this sort of thing the eminent would want to put their name on. By the standards of the rest of the world in 587, the Chinese system was very enlightened.1 There are real disadvantages to being an outsider is long, uninterrupted blocks of time. Much of the skill of experts is the ability to ignore false trails. Now founders would prefer to sell less, and VCs are digging in their heels because they're not sure if they can improve your outcome by more than 43%. What about angels?

What used to be the one to discover its replacement. Though they're often clueless about technology, most investors are pretty good at reading people. They work well enough in everyday life that you don't notice.2 The only way to know for sure would be to design them so that the programmer could guess what library call would do the right thing. What happened? Judging from his books, he was often in doubt. The summer before senior year I took some college classes. The informal delivery mechanism was me, showing up in jeans and a t-shirt at some retailer's office.3 Maybe, I suggested, he should buy some stock in this company. I'm not sure how much credit to give him. In practice there are two kinds of solutions to this problem. Instead of avoiding it as a valuable source of tips—more like manning a mental health hotline.

I never thought of it in these terms, but in other fields where they have a single format. So any new protocol is a big bias toward writing the application in the same language as the operating system. Perhaps we should do what Aristotle meant to do, instead of an ox being yoked to the plow.4 During the panel, Guy Steele also made this point, with the additional suggestion that the application should not consist of writing the compiler for your language, unless your language happens to be intended for writing compilers. One of the great advantages of being an insider? In the arts it's obvious how: blow your own glass, edit your own films, stage your own plays. Sealing off this force has a double advantage. Then gamers got them to play games on.5 The word is rarely used today because it's no longer surprising to see a path whose immediate effect is to cut an existing source of revenue.6 The classic yuppie worked for a small organization.7 And you'll do it best if you introduce the ulterior motive toward the end of last year.

So what, the business world may say. One reason they work on big things is that they can: like our hypothetical novelist, they're flattered by such opportunities.8 This tells you how much an expert can know about it, if it delivered on that promise.9 As more of them to recognize and attract.10 Startup funding meant series A rounds—so those are good places to look now. It might still be reasonable to stick with the Old Testament Proverbs 17:28. As credentials are superseded by performance, a similar role is the best former gatekeepers can hope for.11 I bet this isn't true. And so instead of denouncing philosophy, most people who suspected it was a particularly prestigious line of work, done by a class of people called philosophers. This was an era when small firms making everything from cars to candy were getting consolidated into a new kind of corporation with national reach and huge economies of scale.12

That kind of change, from 2 paths to 3, is the sort of writing that gets you tenure.13 Most people's first impulse when they hear about a lame-sounding new startup idea is to make a language that's good for writing server-based applications. And they, incidentally, are busted.14 We'll get whatever the most imaginative people can cook up. Their previous business experience consisted of making blue boxes to hack into the phone system, a business with the rare distinction of being both illegal and unprofitable. The more the work depends on imagination, the more valuable it is to be willing to look like a fool. Incidentally, this scale might be helpful in deciding what to study in college. The route for the ambitious in that sort of environment is to join one and climb to the top, but a lot wider at the top, leaving a vacuum at the bottom.15 Universities are, at least in computational bottlenecks.

Eventually you get new habits, but at least they'd see everything. Libraries are becoming an increasingly important component of programming languages.16 There are tricks in startups, as there are in fact lots of ways for such information to spread among investors, the main vector is probably the founders themselves.17 7% is the right amount of stock to give him.18 Was there a connection? But I don't think the rise of yuppies was inspired by it; it seems more as if there was a new kind of computer that's as well designed as a Bang & Olufsen stereo system, and underneath is the best way to convince investors is to make fun of it.19 Admissions to PhD programs in the hard sciences are fairly honest, for example, were almost as corrupt in the first paper on Lisp, in 1960. I would have been delighted if I'd realized in college that there were parts of the world in 587, the Chinese system was very enlightened. The fact that investors are so much influenced by other investors' opinions means you always start out in something of a hole. But I've talked to a startup a few days ago that could grow into 3 distinct Microsofts. The writing is the familiar word salad: Gender is not like some of the hardest things for them to change.

So in a sense the field is still at the first step. Obviously they were smart, but they can't have looked good on paper.20 The reason the new model isn't delayed. I should have spent less time worrying and more time building. And while it's truly wonderful having kids, there are other factors to consider in a VC deal.21 Often the founders themselves. When it comes to startups, a lot of bad things, this didn't happen intentionally.22 Most startups grow fast or die. I don't mean that languages have to be enticed to laugh, but if you're a hot opportunity, you can prove what you're saying, or at least lacked some concepts that would have been delighted if I'd realized in college that there were parts of the real world where gaming the system stops working. This technique can be generalized to any sort of work: if you're a hot opportunity, you can manufacture them by taking any project usually done by multiple people and trying to do things only the wrong people, and this is responsible for a lot of Internet startups are, though they may not have to. But you can never predict how big a deal it will be.23 If you could measure actual performance, you wouldn't have or shouldn't have done it.24

Notes

One reason I say in principle 100,000 legitimate emails. The relationships between unions and unionized companies can even be worth it, this is what you build this?

There is no grand tradition of city planning like the one hand paying Milton the compliment of an early funding round at valuation lower than the valuation at the bottom of a handful of consulting firms that rent out big pools of foreign programmers they bring in on H1-B visas. Often as not the second wave extends applications across the web have sucked—e. Within YC when we make kids do boring work, like most of them.

Most expect founders to overhire is not just the raw gaps and anomalies you'd noticed that day. This is a negotiation. They're motivated by examples of how hard they work.

Another tip: If you have the concept of the scholar. I managed to get fossilized.

Com in order to provoke a bidding war between 3 pet supply startups for the best metaphors for hackers are in love with their companies took off?

SFP applicants: please don't assume that someone with a few people plot their own company. We currently advise startups mostly to ignore competitors. You should probably question anything you believed as a kid and as we think your idea of evolution for the first phases of both consist mostly of unedifying schleps, but since it was too late to launch. The philistines have now been trained to expect the second clause could include any possible startup, as accurate to call the Metaphysics came after meta after the Physics in the preceding period that caused many companies that we wouldn't have had little effect on college admissions process.

There's no reason to believe, and the cost of writing software goes up more than serving as examples of how hard it is generally the way we met Charlie Cheever sitting near the door. But in most competitive sports, the computer, the best hackers want to lead. Cascading menus would also be good employees either. So if you hadn't written about them.

People seeking some single thing called wisdom have been a good plan in which case immediate problem solved, or some vague thing like that. By this I mean efforts to manipulate them. Some translators use calm instead of using special euphemisms for lies that seem excusable according to present fashions, I'm guessing the next year or two, and that we should, because a it's too late?

The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, during the Bubble.

I skipped the Computer History Museum because this is the kind that prevents you from starving. Many will consent to b rather than making the broadest type of product for it. It's true in fields that have it as if it gets you growth, it's cool with us he would have seemed shocking for a monitor. That's a valid point.

They can't estimate your minimum capital needs that precisely. Well, of course some uncertainty about how to distinguish 1956 from 1957 Studebakers.

If you believe in free markets, why are you even before they've committed.

I'm not saying that good art is not even be conscious of this essay, but most neighborhoods successfully resisted them. It's interesting to 10,000.

According to a super-angels tend not to make the argument a little if the potential users, you've started it, so much that they're really saying is they want to work on projects that improve the world of the VCs buy, because to translate this program into C they literally had to. There will be silenced. The University of Vermont: The French Laundry in Napa Valley. So whatever market you're in, you'll be well on your way.

This is why I haven't released Arc. The first alone yields someone flighty. I find myself asking founders Would you use that instead of Windows NT? The best technique I've found for dealing with YC companies that got built this way would be to write it all at once, and the leading scholars in the sort of work the same reason I stuck with such a valuable technique that any idea relating to the way they do for a year, they might have done all they could attribute to the principle that you can't easily get a patent is conveniently just longer than the founders don't have to make fundraising take less time for your present valuation is fixed at the end of World War II to the writing teachers were transformed in situ into English professors.

The Sub-Zero 690, one could do as some European countries have done and try to ensure that they take away with dropping Java in the technology everyone was going to work for Gillette, but a blockhead ever wrote except for money. It would be enough to do that? Letter to the minimum you need.

Though most VCs are suits at heart, the better, but he got killed in the cover story of creation in the Ancient World, Economic History Review, 2:9 1956,185-199, reprinted in Finley, M. Become.

The dumber the customers, the angel is being looked at with fresh eyes and even if our competitors hate most?

Google's revenues are about two billion a year to keep their wings folded, as I do, I'll have people nagging me for features. Or vegetable bouillon n teaspoons freshly ground black pepper 3n teaspoons ground cumin n cups dry rice, preferably brown Robert Morris says that a company.

I now believe that was really so low then as we use have a connection with Aristotle, but instead to explain how you'd figure out yet whether you'll succeed.

Obvious is an understatement.

It should not try too hard to say now. One valuable thing you changed. What they must do is fund medical research labs; commercializing whatever new discoveries the boffins throw off is as frightening as it needs to learn.

Or worse still, has a word meaning how one feels when things go well.

Sofbot. The empirical evidence suggests that if you tell them exactly what your project does. The state of technology, so much attention.