#I'M GONNA CATAPULT MYSELF INTO SPACE

[misfit-megumi]

leave the light on - miya osamu/f!reader (haikyuu!) part 10 in the bff!osamu series tags: childhood friends to lovers, tw instant coffee mention, miscommunication, confessions, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

Onigiri Miya closes early on Sunday nights.

It’s not for lack of business—the shop would certainly take in enough revenue to justify staying open regular hours an extra day per week, especially on a weekend. But in the early days of Onigiri Miya, when it was just a one-man show, Osamu needed at least one night that he could count on having off. The workweek business—office workers and students going through their routine hustle and bustle—kept him going, enough so that Sunday nights weren’t a make or break for him, and he was able to start shuttering in the early afternoon once per week.

He remembers those early days. Sweet talking vendors to bring down the cost of produce and haggling with the grubby, bleary eyed men at fish market stalls at the crack of dawn for a deal on the catch of the day. Promising suppliers that he’d be able to get them their money in a couple of weeks if they’d just give him some more time. Standing on the road, because Onigiri Miya was just a street stall back then, trying to coax people in and try his food. To convince them to take a chance on him. He remembers burns on his hands and cuts on his fingers and an ache in his bones that ran so marrow-deep he forgot what it felt like to not be so sore. Sunday nights were the only night he had to relax. The only night he had to sit down, to take off his hat, and to have a beer—or, even more frequently, pass out on his couch in his uniform at 8pm and sleep right through to his alarm the next morning.

Closing early on Sundays had been your idea, way back when— suggested to him gently while he rested with his head in your lap in your tiny student apartment after another 16 hour workday. He still remembers the worry in your eyes as you brushed his hair back from his tired face.

Nowadays things aren’t so hectic. Osamu’s got a good team of people around him to help Onigiri Miya run smoothly—a team who he trusts and values. It doesn’t all fall onto his shoulders in the same way that it used to: he doesn’t have to be there for every open and every close, his bills are paid, he’s not fighting to lure people in off the street just in the hope that he can scrape by for another week.

Now when he closes early on Sunday, it’s more for the sake of his staff than anything else. Occasionally Osamu will take the night off, too; he’ll go home and catch up on housework, run an errand or two, or even grab dinner—usually with you, though evidently not so much lately. But most Sundays he stays behind after his last employee heads out for the night; locking up behind them, switching off the sign in the window to tell the world the shop is closed, and then holing himself up in his office to do some admin. He’ll grab a plate of whatever’s leftover from the day’s service and a cold can of beer from the fridge, put on a rerun of Atsumu’s game from the night before, and get to work shuffling through the paperwork that he’s left to pile up over the past seven days.

Osamu hates paperwork.

It’s not that it’s particularly challenging work—the really hard stuff is left to his bookkeeper after all. It’s just tedious, a mindless task in many ways, and he always finds his thoughts drifting as he sorts through invoices and inventory registers: catching himself being inattentive halfway through a spreadsheet, and having to force himself to go back to the beginning just to make sure he hasn’t missed anything in his carelessness. 

You used to help him with this kind of work, or at least keep him company while he got through it—sitting on the lumpy couch crammed into one corner of his little office and pretending like you weren’t asleep each time Osamu caught you with your eyes closed. More often than not, he’d throw his jacket over you to keep you warm while you napped and then rush through the last of his work so that he could wake you up and get you home. But just having you there on those late nights was enough for him; your presence was the thing that helped.

Coffee is his only saving grace, these days.

Samu shuffles out to the front of the shop on one such Sunday evening, taking off his baseball cap and ruffling the hair underneath tiredly. He’d finally gotten a trim, and he’s glad that things feel a bit more normal again as he rakes his fingers through it—his mother had been right when she remarked that it was getting too long the week before. He tosses his hat down on the front counter of Onigiri Miya, rounding the end to grab a sachet of instant coffee from behind the bar where he keeps his emergency stash.

The overhead lights in the shop are off, but there’s enough brightness filtering out from the still-lit kitchen that he doesn’t need to struggle to see as he prepares himself some hot water to add to the mug in front of him. He tips the granulated contents of his instant coffee sachet into the bottom after ripping it open with his teeth, tapping the empty plastic packaging against the edge of the cup to make sure it all comes out. The kettle behind him hums quietly as it heats to boiling, and Osamu sighs, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

He stares out at the restaurant—his restaurant, as hard as he still finds it to believe some days—his gaze sweeping over the tables with their corresponding chairs resting atop them. One of the staff had mopped the floors at the end of the night, which left them still slightly wet and glistening. There’s light filtering in through the front windows from the streetlights and the other shops that line the Osaka street outside, and their glow catches in the water that hasn’t yet dried from the tile.

Osamu’s eyes suddenly snap up to the glass that lines the front of the restaurant.

There’s a silhouetted figure—so familiar he could trace it even with his eyes closed, from memory alone—standing on the other side of the door.

Osamu blinks, thinking that the paperwork must have finally gotten the best of him, or maybe that the beer he’d had earlier is inexplicably hitting him too hard. But no matter how many times he squeezes his eyes shut, the familiar shape stays where it is on the other side of the glass each time he opens them again.

His heartbeat thumps, loud and wet, in his ears.

Like the shot of a gun, the man stumbles gracelessly into action: loping around the end of the bar and slipping slightly on the wet tile as he heads towards the door. He fiddles with the lock as he struggles to unlatch it, accidentally trying to force it the wrong way in his haste before eventually getting it right. When he finally throws open the door, a gust of cool night air flooding into the restaurant along with it, he takes in a deep, gasping breath.

“Hey.”

His voice is shaky when he greets you—mostly air and very little shape to the word.

You stare at him from a few paces away, your arms crossed firmly over your chest and a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth. Osamu thinks you look pretty when you’re mad. He always has. But it’s worse now because he knows all too well that he shouldn’t—because he knows you’re mad at him. 

You seem to have something to say, he can tell as much from the almost spiteful glint in your eyes, but you stay tightlipped as you simply stare at him.

“D’ya… wanna come in?” Osamu asks, still holding the door open. He nods his head back into the shop. “Still got some stuff prepped, I could make ya—“

“You’re a jerk.”

Osamu blinks, taken aback.

“Yeah,” he agrees plainly after a moment, thinking it’s only fair of you to say given then circumstances. 

His concurrence only seems to upset you more.

“Like, you’re a real asshole, y’know that?” You’re nearly spitting you’re so angry, your features twisted up in contempt. Your arms uncross and drop down to your sides, and Osamu watches as your hands ball into fists. He’s the one who taught you how to throw a punch, years and years ago now, and he’s wondering if he’s about to experience a practical demonstration of his teaching abilities firsthand.

“I don’t necessarily disagree.” He nods, agreeing with you once more, though this time his response is slower, more hesitant—not because he doesn’t mean it, but because he’s not sure that it’s what you want to hear.

“Ugh!” Your following exclamation is loud, and palpably frustrated, all but confirming his suspicions. “You…!”

Your tone is climbing with every passing second, and Osamu looks furtively up and down the road around the two of you. It’s late in the evening but there are still a few people out, and he sees heads turning in your direction at the commotion.

“Hey,” he says, his own voice dropping in volume but still pleading all the same. “My name’s on the door and we’re gettin’ some weird looks. I wanna hear everythin’ you have to say, but could you please just say it to me inside?”

You look at him blankly, your lips puckering into a petulant, unhappy pout. You seem like you want to say no, to keep causing a scene, and for a second Osamu really thinks you’re about to round in on him again. Instead you trudge forward, stomping past him over the threshold of Onigiri Miya.

Osamu hesitates for a moment after you pass, half in shock and half in relief, and then he lets the door swing closed and locks it behind him for good measure—he’s not sure he wants any unsuspecting people coming in search of onigiri and stumbling upon a brawl.

It’s dim in the restaurant when he turns to face you, but he can still see your fury burning in the dark.

Neither of you say anything.

“You can keep goin’ if you want,” Osamu is eventually the first to speak, and he means what he says. This is the least of the punishment he deserves, after all. And hearing you yell at him is markedly better than the silence.

“Martyrdom doesn’t suit you at all,” you mutter sullenly.

Osamu sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I just wantcha to say whatcha came here to say.”

You begin to pace as you work through your thoughts, slowly walking back and forth in front of the counter, picking at your cuticles. You’d put a fair amount of distance between the two of you, and he’s sure it was intentional. Osamu keeps himself confined to the entryway near the door, while you walk a path back and forth along the length of the service counter. His eyes follow every step you take, like a captivated child watching fish at the aquarium.

“I had a terrible dream last night,—” you finally force the words out, your feet stilling against the shiny tile as your pacing comes to a sudden halt.

Osamu decides to just do the right thing and shut the hell up for once, giving you the floor.

“—I was going to buy 30 kilos of rice from Kita-san’s farm—”

That’s a lot of rice, Osamu wants to note, but his lips part to let the words through and then he decides better of it.

“—and I was there, at the farm, and then Kita-san started telling me that you got married and had a baby. A baby, Samu! Kita-san standing there telling me all these terrible things with that big bag of rice in my hands, and I couldn’t even get mad at him because he’s Kita! So I just had to listen to him go on and on and on about the venue and the flowers and the baby name that you picked out. And the more he’d tell me the worse it was, and the bag of rice just kept getting heavier.” Your teeth bite down so hard into your lip as you suck in a breath that Osamu's amazed he doesn’t see blood. “I was hearing all of these things—terrible things—and all I could think was that I should have been there to see all of that for myself. I shouldn’t have been hearing about it from someone else. And I realized that you were living a whole life apart from me, a life that I didn’t know about or get to be a part of, and it just kept getting worse and worse and I woke up and I felt like I was going to scream.”

You’re out of breath by the time you finish your rambling thought, your chest heaving and your eyes wild and your mouth faintly wet. You look to him, and Osamu doesn’t see that same indignation in your eyes anymore, only hurt. He watches as the expression hardens again, whets itself like a blade—sharpened not in anger, but rather in resolve. In resignation.

“That day. I looked for you first.”

Osamu feels lost now. Are you still talking about that dream?

You understand without him saying it, and explain yourself further. “In high school. The day that I kissed Suna.”

Osamu’s stomach drops, all of the blood rushing to his head so quickly that the shop begins to spin a little around him. He can hear his pulse in his ears. He can feel it in his throat. He can’t help the twist of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, writhing and ugly though it may be, at the mere mention of his friend’s name. He doesn’t have the right to feel the way he feels, but it happens all the same.

“I looked for you,” you keep going, like you’ve broken a seal and have to let it all out. Osamu doesn’t dare try to stop you. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He watches on like it’s a conversation that’s happening not with him but rather to him. “You were eating lunch with Tsumu in your classroom. I realized he would have had a fit if he knew that I was asking you and not him. I thought about asking him but…”

Osamu can’t feel his fingers from how tightly his hands are balled into fists at his side. His lungs burn in his chest—the breath he’s holding having long since lost the oxygen his body needs, though he can’t seem to draw in another.

“If it wasn’t you, I didn’t care who it was. So I asked Suna.”

The young man processes your words slowly. Incompletely. Like only every third word seems to register.

“Ya wanted me to be yer first kiss?” It’s not the question he ought to ask you but it’s the one his brain chooses to spit out.

Your reply is frustrated, but with an unmistakably melancholic rasp running through it. “Yeah. I did.”

Somewhere distantly, Osamu recognizes a sharp, stinging pain. An ache as part of him realizes that it could have been him. All along. All this time. Him. But the pain is muted, because part of him—most of him—still doesn’t quite understand.

“I think that was the first time I realized it.” 

Osamu watches your face, maps the achingly familiar lines and dips and curves of your features as he tries to read meaning in the space between your words. But he still finds nothing.

“I liked you, Samu. More than I should have. Differently than I liked Tsumu, or Suna, or any other guy.” You laugh, but it’s a hollow, watery sound. “I realized it and it was awful.”

You’re waiting for him to say something, but Osamu is at a loss for words. No, that’s not quite it either. It’s not that he has nothing to say, but that he has everything he wants to say to you. To ask you. But he doesn’t know where to start, or how to sort through them, or even how to will his lips, teeth, and tongue to shape any of them.

“You… Y’know ya don’t have to say this,” his voice is tight, like a rope drawn to secure a knot not unlike the one in his throat, when he finally manages to speak. “Ya don’t have to pretend or convince yourself that you… felt the same as me. I care about ya too much to ever ask that.”

You laugh—a single, sharp, distinctly mirthless ha!—as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “There you go again not letting me have any say, Samu!” You punctuate your exclamation with a frustrated little sound. “Stop deciding things all on your own and just listen to me.”

That shuts him up again.

“I thought I was over it,”—you begin to pace once more, your steps slow and measured—“I really did. I told myself it would never happen and moved on because I never ever wanted to fuck things up between us. Between any of us.

“You told me that you’ve loved me your whole life, but you don’t know if or when something changed. I do. I had a singular moment that I could point to where I realized that if I did or said the wrong thing after that, I could fuck up something that meant more to me than anything else in the world. Even if you felt the same way I did, there’s no guarantee that something like that would work out. But if we tried and it didn’t work, we wouldn’t be able to just go back to how things were. So I told myself that no matter what I wouldn’t. No matter how hard it was or how awful it felt. I could get over it if it meant I never had to lose you. And it was fine. For years it was fine. We were fine. Everything was fine. And then I lost you anyway.”

You suddenly stop pacing and crouch down, your arms winding themselves around your knees as if to comfort yourself. 

“That night, when you…” You swallow, and risk a glance up at him. “I don’t think I’m over it.”

Osamu feels like he might die. Maybe he did already. Maybe this is his life passing before his eyes, because it’s always been you anyway.

“But it’s scary, Samu,” your voice is so small, so vulnerable, when you speak to him again. You’re trembling as you hold yourself. “Aren’t you scared?”

Osamu is suddenly reminded of that fall day in the woods, so many years ago now. Reminded of two kids who didn’t know what they were doing. Who didn’t know anything. But who knew each other.

Slowly, Osamu crouches too—his joints cracking in protestation as he drops his body down to your level. Your eyes never leave his.

“Yeah,” he says, after a moment. Soft but sure. “‘Course I am.”

You let out a soggy, incredulous laugh, but it somehow doesn’t feel out of place. He watches as you reach up and scrub at your eyes.

“I love you,” Osamu says, because it’s true. Because there’s no other words he can possibly think to say in this situation. Because it’s the only thing that he has in his mind.

You look over at him, sniffling a little, wiping at your running nose with the back of your hand in a way that Osamu absolutely should not find as endearing as he does. “How can you just say it like that? Like it’s so easy?”

Osamu wants to laugh too, like you did earlier, but he worries that the sound might come off as almost hysterical thanks to the misplaced hope he can feel simmering in the pit of his stomach. “Sayin’ it’s the hard part, that’s why it took me so long. But I’ve spent forever lovin’ ya. S’always been the easiest bit.”

You choke back a sob, your head hanging defeatedly as your body slackens. You’re a ghost of the angry little thing that was outside of his door only a few minutes earlier, but more yourself now than Osamu has seen you in weeks.

“What about you?” he poses the question so quietly he might worry you didn’t hear him if not for how silent the dark shop is around you both.

“What do you mean?” You know what he means. He knows you know what he means. You’re stalling, trying to buy yourself time that’s run out now.

“Do you love me?” he asks, praying to anyone who’s listening that he’s been a good enough man up until this point to deserve the answer that he wants to hear more than anything else in the world.

“Of course I do,” you say evasively, refusing to meet his gaze. But it’s not the same. It’s not enough.

“But are you in love with me?” Osamu finally dares to ask.

There’s a stretch of the most painful, profound silence that either of you have ever experienced. It goes on for an eternity, though the clock hands in the corner say differently.

You still refuse to look at him, your gaze fixed instead to a point on the wall on the other side of the restaurant. Osamu watches how the light from the windows catches in the tears that cling to your bottom lashes.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, barely a whisper. You speak the confession like it’s the most terrifying thing imaginable. Like it's wretched.

And it is maybe, but Osamu’s never felt happier to hear anything in all his life—he feels a rush of something so visceral and elated flowing through him, he thinks he might pass out.

“Can I touch ya?” he asks hesitantly, his voice thick and unlike its normal tone. He hardly recognizes it as his own.

You peek over at him for the first time, and Osamu revels in the feeling of having your eyes on him. Delights in watching you watch him and knowing that behind the gaze is the same feeling as the one he holds inside of himself. You consider it for a moment, and he doesn’t dare rush you, but eventually—mercifully—you nod. 

Osamu inches forward slowly and wraps you in his arms. Your body relaxes into his hold instantly, and he pulls you into his lap on the tiled floor. He holds you so tightly that he’s scared he might break you, but he still can’t find it in himself to be more delicate. You cling to him anyway.

It’s the first time he’s touched you in months, but every inch of you is still known to him. Still familiar in every way that matters. You smell the same. You feel the same. You’re soft and warm just like always. Osamu buries his face into the crook of your neck, and your fingers eventually lift to play with the hair at his nape. He holds you, and holds you, and holds you more—sating a thirst that’s been building for longer than the time the two of you have been apart.

And you let him.

You hold him too, in the same way.

“If I kiss ya, you gonna cry again?” Osamu asks you quietly after a while, his lips brushing against your throat as he murmurs the words.

You snort, your fingers twisting into the material of his t-shirt at his shoulders. Osamu peels himself away from you and looks up, and finds that your faces are so close. Too close, in any other circumstance.

His palm lifts, cupping your cheek in his hand, running his thumb against the smooth skin underneath.

“Shut up, Samu,” you say, a little smile twisting up the corner of your mouth.

And Osamu happily obliges by pressing his lips to yours.

[brandwhorestarscream]

IM GONMA FUCKING CATAPULT MYSELF INTO SPACE OH MY G O D

I just got out of transformers one (no spoilers here but FUCK)

I. I'm broken. I am BROKEN. I'm in fuckin shambles man I'm gonna be still reeling snd heartbroken 10 years from now. I'm gonna be 89 years old someday telling my grandchildren about the beautiful tragedy of TF1. Like fuck your romeo and juliet or pride and prejudice or whatever, this is peak, perfect tragedy. I am so serious when I tell you i will not emotionally recover

Let's see. Other thoughts. Holy shit Starscream (I didn't know who was voicing him so that was a shock). Holy shit ALPHA TRION. LIKE. OH MY GOD?????? ALPHA TRION?? I love you TF1 Alpha Trion. I love you TF1 D-16. When I tell you I would get into a physical altercation to defend baby D-16 from harm or dishonor I mean it.

Also make sure you stay through the whole credits because there is a fantastic after-creds scene. Seriously. If you're a decepticon fan you have to see it.

Closing other thoughts I think this movie somehow made the best/worst Sentinel Prime to date. You'll see what I mean. Just trust me

[excuse-me-why-am-i-sad]

Off I Go - Last Letter Part 4. final part?

School is difficult, I would even say that it’s also a factor to why I turned out like this, when was it that it started? NDU-ETD, NDC and now ADDU SHS. I never would have thought that things would turn out this way. The day before the exam, a student tried to jump but she got caught. I wonder how this will turn out, I wasn't like this. My grades were above 90. This isn’t me. I refuse to accept this reality. Yet even though I study, even though I do my best, it isn’t enough. I don’t get it. I don’t get physics. Now it seems like I'm gonna fail earth science, biology and chemistry too. This isn’t because I'm studying at ateneo right? I choose to study here. And I'm failing.  The grading went by so fast, I barely understood any lessons. I can’t answer quizzes. I spaced out during the physics exam. I forgot everything I studied. The pressure in ateneo is real. Who do I blame? It’s not only me that is having a hard time, my friends are even developing sickness from the stress and schedule. Studying later, waking up early. Our class is in the afternoon yet they make us go in the morning? The class funds. The amount we had to keep paying. The projects that cost a lot. Practice in the morning and school in the afternoon. All my written works have failed. My physics PT has failed. Problem solving. The research. My group mates who don’t help. Who doesn't reply. My group mates who do the bare minimum and disappear. The classroom. I told you both, di kayo bagay maging parents. You guys are not fit to be parents. But since learning is a lifelong journey. Do what you will. But please don’t push my siblings down the same path as me. I feel bad. What i'm doing is bad and I'm aware. I have to admit that I'm excited to die. To pass away. I can finally rest. If I don't die then the cycle will continue. I don’t wanna be a part of that cycle. I want to rest. November 9, 2024 is the research defense and catapult making. The deadline for the infographics will be on November 11,2024. 3rd grading. The 2nd semester will only be 2 weeks? They plan to compress the lessons in 2 weeks? You're joking. I feel so numb. I feel so tired. I don’t even feel like crying. I just really wanna leave. I don’t have the motivation to study, or to go to school. I can’t even comprehend the lessons. No matter how much I read, or how much I listen. I can’t concentrate. I can’t analyze it. My processing is so slow. I feel like I'm constantly choking. My throat hurts. I can’t even cut myself. I feel suffocated. I need this. I need to die. But I don't regret meeting my friends. I feel bad for my online friends. I wanna be cremated. I’m gonna die with so many regrets. What I'm doing is so irresponsible and stupid. Immature even. There's no guarantee that I'll die. There's a chance that I'll get hospitalized. And live and then go back to school embarrassed and people know. I’ll be on the watch list. I need to die. I have to. If I can't handle senior high then how will I handle college? And then actual jobs. I don't know what I want. I was born without my consent. I didnt wanna be born. I didn’t wanna be alive. Although life is a gift from god. Life is a gift. A gift that I didn't want. I’m sorry everyone. I’m sorry god. And thank you everyone. I hope everyone lives their best lives and succeeds where they are happy.  forget me.

[b0nten]

2 HIGH 4 YOU

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ the boys with a short s/o

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ hakkai draken and baji being tall, me projecting because i’m short

HAKKAI

let's face it - it's almost impossible you're taller than hakkai.

ffs, he's 183?!?!

my 158 ass could never..

this smug, cheeky little bitch

he LOVES to take advantage of his height.

you can't reach the cereal? it's okay, hakkai the gentleman will be there to help you <3

yeah, no .

he will help you, that's for sure.

but don't expect him to do it just like that.

he'll swing whatever you want to have over your head to make you jump up

then he'll bend over you to stick out his tongue and taunt you.

again, he's an insolent little shit but he will give you your thing under one condition.

he wants a kith <33

as i mentioned in the hugging headcanons (don't mind the self plug😇😩), he loves and adores to carry you on his back.

piggy-back rides with hakkai are 💯/10 would definitely recommend.

i don't know if it's physically possible, but for the sake of this headcanon we'll pretend it is.

he's the type to grab you unannounced and then walk around with you as if you're a fucking shoulder bag.

literally.

he will hold you under his arm like a big plushie he just won at the arcade.

loves to crush your lungs & the air out of them but it's totally okay because he's cute and apologizez after leaving you (literally) breathless for twenty minutes.

uses this as punishment for when you don't give him his 'thank you' kith for 'helping' you get what you want off a shelf.

i'm not just gonna not mention this..

HIS HANDS ARE SO BIG AND PRETTY

HE'S THE ONE WHO COMPARES THEM ALL THE TIME BECAUSE HE LIKES HOW SMALL THEY ARE AND HOW FRAIL AND DELICATE THEY LOOK.

likes to come down to your height to kiss you.

or he lifts you up so hard you have the impression you're about to be catapulted into outer space.

he most likely calls you shorty or shawty or some other dumb shit he's heard in a song and googled its meaning on urban dictionary.

conclusion: he teases you a lot but sometimes he's cute 🙄

DRAKEN

he's 185

im out 🧍‍♀️

why are they all so tall?

the difference between draken and hakkai is that draken is mostly RESPECTFUL

(hakkai better take notes smh.)

HE'S SUCH A GENTLEMAN

looks at you with heart eyes because you're so small and cute he could crush you just by stepping on you (in a cute way) and because of that he wants to protect & treasure you <333

doesn't tease you (unlike others) and if you can't reach something he'll simply give it to you and kiss your forehead.

you fit in his lap perfectly.

back to those hugging headcanons (no im not stopping with the self plug😇🥀), he rests his head on top of your's.

that's the only thing he does to tease you and even then, half of the time he's just really tired from balancing his head on that long ass neck.

why did i think that was funny.

cuteness overload draken will sometimes analyze your fingers and compare them to his .

once he got mad when you said his fingers look like very long McDonald's french fries.

he forgave you with a kiss tho😇

BAJI

baji "only i get to make fun of your height because if someone else does, i'll tear their limbs off" keisuke likes to tease you about your height as well.

googled his height earlier today.

175

I'm walking myself out 🥳🚶‍♀️

i can't do this they’re way too tall.

baji doesn't tease you nearly as much as hakkai, but when he does, it's painful.

one time you and baji were sharing a crepe in Harajuku and this mf had the brilliant idea to start mocking you.

took the crepe and moved it from left to right above your head and when you tried jumping up, he had the audacity to lift his long ass tree-branch arm up.

he stopped when someone stepped in thinking he was bullying you.

you hoped that was the end of keisuke baji's torture, but nope😇🙏

this bitch

once you were hanging out with chifuyu and baji literally said 'i think you're so smol and little because you shrink every time you take a shower', and you had never wanted anything more than pull his hair out.

meanwhile chifuyu was out there almost choking on his yakisoba noodles because of laughter.

if someone you aren't too good of friends with dares comment on your height while he's around, he'll beat the shit out of them and probably call his homeboys to watch it as well.

one time he was walking you home from school and you ran into a classmate of your's.

baji liked how you two got along, because it's important to get along with your classmates, but all that happiness was gone when he (the classmate) made a comment on your height, which led to one about your body.

that's when he saw the sparkle in your eyes get dimmer and dimmer and they started to swell with tears, so keisuke said 'fuck it.'

he called his friends and told them he's 'about to beat a bitch up. a bitch, not a guy, because guys don't comment on one's insecurities and know how and when to stay in their lane.'

punched that bitch in the nose & took you home to cuddle <333

likes the feeling of holding your small frame in his arms so it's hard to convince him to let go if you're cuddling.

[forcebookish]

HE CAN NEVER DISCONNECT HIS SHINIGAMI POWERS FROM RUKIA THEY WILL ALWAYS BE THE GIFT SHE GAVE HIM SHE WILL ALWAYS BE HIS TETHER TO THE SPIRITUAL WORLD

Can we just talk about this? I mean, Ichigo has known he was going to lose his powers for ages now. He knew it from the moment Tensa Zangetsu told him about the final Getsuga Tenshou. He can feel his powers slipping away - he said as much at the end of his fight with Aizen, and when he steps outside the house now just before this scene, he says he can’t feel spirits anymore. So it’s not like him losing his powers is a surprise to him. But you know what really drives the fact that he’s going to lose his powers home? 

It’s the loss of Rukia. Her presence fading away is what does it for Ichigo. That’s when he truly realises what losing his powers mean. THAT’S when he thinks ‘oh, I really AM gonna lose my powers’. And it’s significant that the complete loss of his powers is represented by Rukia slipping away out of his sight. His powers began with Rukia gifting them to him, and his powers end with Rukia slipping away with it - as though she is taking it away with her. Rukia is so inextricably linked with his power and his will to protect and his fucking identity down to his core (because really, to ichigo, having that power to protect is a crucial part of his identity), and I honestly cannot fucking deal with these two. 

[mrsbarnes107]

Secret of the Widow

-part seven-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot and slow burn.

Something was blinding me and I was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth.

I cracked my eyes open, sunlight streaming in and effectively burning my retinas. A big yawn escaped as cat stretched across my bed, popping my joints deliciously.

Of course that's when I noticed that I was in my bed. The bed I was very much NOT IN last night.

I stumbled to the bathroom, throwing on some spandex shorts along the way. The mirror revealed a very distraught woman. Jeez I'm a mess. Puffy eyes, wild hair, pillow creases on my cheek. With a sigh I throw my hair into a bun and wash my face and teeth, staring down my reflection.

Where on earth did this ginormous hoodie come from? This thing is like a dress, I cant even see my shorts and I KNOW it's not mine.

The fact that i cried hard enough to pass out and NOT feel someone carry me to my room AND put a hoodie on me is very concerning. I need to reign in these emotions, no matter how hard it is being back in the tower.

I slip some fuzzy socks on and check the time. 6 am. Of course.

Making my way quietly down the hall I snuggle more into the cozy hoodie. It smells like musk, man, and crisp night air. This is mine now.

No one seems to be awake, so I decide to treat the team to an extravagant breakfast of waffles, bacon, and eggs. But first a very very large cup of coffee.

As the aroma of Heavens most beautiful creation fills the room I have FRIDAY shuffle my music, broadcasting it in the kitchen loud enough to dance around to but not wake the others.

Food is almost done when I'm in the middle of singing into the knife I grabbed to cut up some fruit.

"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND  YOURE TO BLAME" chop chop chop "YOU GIVE LOOOVE  A BAD NAME"

I toss the knife behind me and spin around to flip the bacon, catching it with a little twirl. "I play my part and you play your games oooh you give loveee"  I begin setting the food on serving trays "a bad name."

As I'm dancing around the kitchen, enjoying the peace of cooking in an empty space, flicking the knife in the air and twirling it in my hand, I hear the team start to get up and around.

"She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean" what a great way to start the day, bomb music and a dance party. "She was the best damn woman that I ever seen. She had sig-" as the knifes handle lands deftly in my palm, someone interrupts my concert.

"I feel like I should be serenading you right now Doll. Lookin like that, cookin food like this, definitely the best damn woman I've ever seen."

With a squeak I had launched the knife towards the voice, Bucky plucking it out of the air, right in-front of his amused blue eyes. He was leaning against the doorway, legs crossed and sleep rumpled hair. Apparently he's been there a while and apparently he was blessed with beauty no matter his state of dress.

"Barnes what the hell! Warn a girl, jeez." I put my hand over my heart to calm it while pouring a cup of coffee, walking it over to the super soldier. "And damn straight I'm the best. Glad you've noticed."

He follows me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter sipping his drink. "You're pretty skilled with this." I guess that was his warning as he catapulted the knife towards my stomach. Well I deserved that, I thought as I caught it while skipping a few songs.

"You'll come to learn I'm skilled in a few things." I say with a wink. "Although, I don't think anyone works a blade like you do Sarge."

I look up to find him staring at me with a weird expression before he shook his head and smirked. "Well Doll, I could always give you some pointers if you ever wanna train with me."

I'm jamming to Back in Black when the rest of the team walks in. Throwing Bucky a smile over my shoulder and a quick "your on, meet after breakfast?" He gives a nod and sits at the island beside the others.

This could be fun. Or a disaster. Definitely not a good idea. But a fun one for sure.

I'm still bouncing around to AC/DC when Sam scowls at me. Well he looks like a grumpy kitten in the mornings apparently.

"You are definitely Tony's creation." He grumbled, followed by a thank you, as they started scarfing down breakfast.

•••

"Hey Ali, why are you wearing Buckys hoodie?" Peter mumbled around a giant bite of waffle, food flying everywhere.

I paused for a second then continued pouring myself some more coffee, giving Barnes a quick glance that he avoided, deeply interested in his bacon apparently.

"Oh I forgot I was still wearing it, sorry Sarge." I said with a chuckle. "Couldn't sleep last night so I watched a movie and Barnes ended up joining me. I got cold and he was ever the century old gentleman."

That earned a scoff from the old man.

"We're still leaving at lunch right? I'm craving a taco from downtown." Wanda pipped up from across the island.

"Yeah that sounds great, I'm gonna get a quick workout in beforehand."

Peter glanced up from his waffle mountain "Do you think you could stop by the lab and help me out with something? When you're done shopping?"

I see Bucky staring at me in my peripheral, eyeing the smile I force onto my lips. That lab just can't get rid of me huh Tony. "Yeah of course, I'll let you know when I'm headed there."

With that I head back to my room and throw on some shoes and a tank top, leaving Buckys hoodie on my bed. I did say it was mine now anyways.

The gym is a large, two story area with many connected rooms. I went into the sparing room, with mats on the floors and a wall of punching bags. After stretching and putting on some music, I work on the power behind my punches, trying to land harder blows for someone larger than me.

Getting lost in the feel of fist biting leather I let myself drift into thought. I still don't know how to incorporate myself into the team. They were all very kind and grateful this morning, talking about their plans and letting me know they will be interrogating the two bombers from yesterday.

Am I being too open? I'm usually serious and more reserved unless I'm comfortable with someone like Nicky or Tony. It's just that I want them to see more than my serious, throat slashing side. The team is already gloomy enough, but I don't want them too think I'm not taking this seriously. Finding that line is hard when I don't know how receptive three of them even are to me at the moment.

Wanda, Buck, and Peter all seem fine, but the others are more hesitant.

I finish a set with a spinning roundhouse, sending the bag against the wall, just as one of my favorite songs comes on shuffle.

Being on your own for essentially twenty-two years gives you very little option for conversation. Besides the times I stayed with Tony, I was alone. As a kid my teachers were just that and Nicky was there when he could be, but all I really had was myself.

So music is my release. All I ever really had to let loose and feel lighter when on the road or cleaning up after a mission.

So I sing along while launching daggers into a sparring dummy from across the room.

[misfit-megumi]

“You liking the show, creep?” he teases, chucking, the feather now shifting to gently nuzzle your cheek, as he does so often.

You nod, “you’re just so pretty, Keigo.”

“Im aware.”

“No, like, really pretty,” you assure.

He takes an inhale through his nose, “I’m not half as pretty as you are, babe.” He gently cups your cheek with a warm hand, “trust me. I watch you almost as much as you watch me.”

“You’re pretty when you’re mad, too, doll.”

In the morning, Keigo stretches his body; and it’s ethereal.

The way the Sun peers in through the sheer curtains keeps you in a slight between sleep and cognitive function, eyes hazy and bleary as he slowly gets up from his side of the bed, grunting softly.

It’s warm, it’s so quiet. You blink a few times to watch him go about his morning, and it starts with his wings quickly splaying out, the full spanse of them taking up an underestimated amount of space in the room. They glimmer in the peering sunlight, and you smile softly as they slowly curl back towards him.

His fingers cross over each other before they pull his arms taught above his head, shifting them to the right, then the left, which pops louder than the other side due to more than a few injuries to his left side. His muscles shadow and dance in the light soaking in through the window. He whines softly as he then bends at the waist, wings fluffing back out as he stretches his knees, as if moving out of the way.

Clearly, he must notice you, as one of his pristine feathers immediately darts from the pack and over to you, and before you can reel your foot back in, the plumes swipe over it, making you giggle sleepily and yank it under the covers.

“You liking the show, creep?” he teases, chucking, the feather now shifting to gently nuzzle your cheek, as he does so often.

You nod, “you’re just so pretty, Keigo.”

“Im aware.”

“No, like, really pretty,” you assure, and he sighs before turning around to face you. His hair is stuck up in random places, his eyes sleepy and still heavy from the act of waking up. There’s lines from blankets that imprint his skin, and his feathers fluff out slightly to buff out the flattened areas.

He bends at the waist to be face to face with you, leaning slightly to plant a small kiss to your nose, and you mewl happily at the feeling.

He takes an inhale through his nose, “I’m not half as pretty as you are, babe.” He gently cups your cheek with a warm hand, “trust me. I watch you almost as much as you watch me.”

“Bull,” you tease. “I’m always watching you. You never even look at me.”

He frowns at you dramatically, and before you can assure him you’re teasing, more feathers dart from behind him to yank the blankets off of you, the chill of morning dew making you whine in agony. “Keigo!”

“You’re pretty when you’re mad, too, doll.”

[acaele-blog]

There’s a difference between heroes like, erm,” Cyril looked around for a victim. "Rush Hours one through three, and King Arthur. You’ve probably never heard of the Rush Hours, but everyone can name at least three or four knights of the Round Table. Our true heroes are hundreds of years old, because our memory for history goes back far further than even that. But you, you marvelous mad Yanks, you’re still writing your stories. Your King Arthurs and Lady Guineveres are still alive, and the world reacts to them. The Batman and his knights will live forever.” He drank his ginger ale, smiling. “You can mark my words on that one. Children will be telling your tales for many, many years.

No Dawn, No Day (x)

[rhymingtree]

I'm actually terrified to read this because you messaged me at six in the morning telling me how ✨excited✨ you were for us to read this, and that couldn't mean anything good.

Also I have yet to re-read Aftermath from the beginning, therefore I know nothing of all the rewrites. 🙃 This'll be confusing. I'll get to reading them eventually, when I move on from everything that happens after chapter one.

Ooh another flashback from Wraith's POV...

I love how cocky Ollie was at the beginning, how he underestimates Alpha One and keeps looking down at them in his head, all the while I've always seen him as the baby of the group.

Poor Ollie got one upped by an old man..

OH MY GOD DUKE'S ALIVE AHHH

OH GOD

NO DON'T GIVE ME HOPE LIKE THAT

GOOD THINGS ALWAYS PRECEDE THE BAD

now i'm scared

wait

what the fuck is going on

Duke and I are pulling the same face right now

OH SHIT

IT'S HER

Hehe that one scene from MoM came to mind

If I were Wraith, I would have shit my pants if Ghost actually walked in looking like that

Nevermind he actually is shitting his pants

I'm loving Duke's reaction to this, it's so out of pocket

OOOOOH FERAL!GHOST IS HERE BITCHESSSS

oh no

She wouldn’t be that angry unless she’d just lost everything. Which meant he’d lost everything. 

His best friend. His fiance. His family. 

Gee golly thanks for the reminder that that happened

THANK GOD I KNOW IT'S NOT ENTIRELY TRUE

BUT DUKE DOESN'T

BELOV'S ALIVE

I have to remind myself he's still here every now and then

Duke's going through an absolute rollercoaster right now

Jesus, Darke give your OCs a break

And someone plese fucking tell Duke that Jack's gonna be okay

because I need to know too, y'all are keeping me on edge

oh thank god she finally answered him jesus it took so long

YESSSS ZAAAC

THE CHEER I LET OUT

I'M SO PROUD OF HIM

THERE'S OUR LIL MURDER BOY

They grow up so fast...

WAIT

WAIT

OH

MY

DARKE

“Your mom.”

i NEVER THOUGHT A YOUR MOM JOKE COULD MAKE ME BURST INTO TEARS BUT HERE I FUCKIN AM

SHE'S ALIVE

THE GANG'S BACK TOGETHER

Darke I swear to god I'm gonna murder you for this weeks long deception

swear to fuckin god

Yeah you better fuckin' explain how that happened because I am so confused right now what in the hell just happened

HOW

how is everyone in this damn team so hard to kill

i mean i'm real fucking happy about it

but how the hell

Boone could get catapulted into space without a suit and she'd just be floating up there doing cartwheels over the moon

STEEEVE

STEVE I'M GOING TO CRY

She's faking her fucking death

OH

I don't like seeing him cry like this Darke why are you doing this to the poor guy

EVERETT FUCKING ROSS

Yaaaaay

I love these headers Darke

but I still have no clue when any of this is happening

mostly my fault, I can't really think clearly when I'm crying my ass off

I love how much of an influence Montana's become to her New York. Look at him, lying to everyone he knows.

I did not like the emotional manipulation I had to put up with the past week Darke. 😑 No matter how well you write it.

“Have you dipshits been stressing out Christopher?” Boone frowned, eyeing him worriedly, “His accent’s gotten stronger.”

Who wouldn't be stressed, girl you fuckin faked your death and I fell for it

I swore at Darke in two different languages, that is the epitome of stress

I had to cut my caffeine intake so I don't die of a fucking heart attack reading these past few chapters

I think I need to see a doctor.

NO NOT ART, DORIAN AND GABE

🥺

Not the ones I specifically left out alive in GIS and FTS come oooon

I'm actually really sad about them being gone this isn't fun

It's scary seeing Ghost like this.

she's craving Ollie's blood, she wants to see him die, but at the same time she's completely aware how this whole war with Wraith is affecting and has been affecting the people she loves.

But she wants him to suffer. She wants him to feel just a little bit of the fear and dread she felt because of him, even though it'll get her hurt, and probably get everyone else killed in the process

it's heartbreaking

and fucking scary

but hey it's exciting woohoo

bloodlust. how exhilarating.

What's Ollie doing rifling through Duke's shit

The real question, though, was: Did he have a safe place to hide from her?

What if i snitch it to her and she just rains on your parade right now...

Oop, nevermind, she beat me to it

Ollie does know there's an entire fucking city that could probably hear him, right? That his dramatic ass is screaming at the top of his lungs above a crowd, and traffic and all that?

Well, I've heard New Yorkers ignore stranger occurrences so I guess this won't be a big deal

YELENAAAA

I KNEW IT WAS A BLACK WIDOW

Well, former Black Widow

BUT YAAAAY

YAY THE WHOLE FAMILY'S HERE

IT'S A HAPPY ENDING... sorta

FOR ONCE

I DID NOT END THE CHAPTER WITH TEARS

Just a lot of fear. I am very. Fucking. Worried.

I love that footage of Boone hitting the soldiers with her van. I love that they were cowering in fear as she trampled over them.

You still haven't been forgiven for the tornado of what the fuckery you put me through last week.

Boone being alive is great, but I am still very much hurt by that. 😑

Chapter 73 // KILL SWITCH

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍��━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

You could have lost them. You could have lost all of them. All because you were too blind to see through Wraith's charade. 

You were supposed to be better than this. You were supposed to be the best of the best. That’s what you were trained to be. 

You felt something shift deep inside of you, bringing with it a familiar certainty. Something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

It was cold and calculated and focused. It knew exactly what it had to do and when to do it. 

It had been cooped up inside you for so, so long, shoved to the back of your mind to never see the light of day again. You’d let it slip through the cracks a seldom few times but, now?

Now, it wanted out. 

It wanted to rage and rampage and take what it was owed. 

Revenge. 

It was aggressive, yet charming. Exactly what Commander Weston had trained it to be. It was reckless and vigilant. It was impulsive and deliberate. 

Ghost.

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

Chapter 73  // KILL SWITCH

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

» Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇTᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

TAGLIST :

***anyone with a strike through their handle means I couldn't tag you 😔

@thexbookxnerdx // @autumn-em // @fadingbakeryfarmoperator // @rhymingtree // @itsmeatballworld // @kippykasey // @turtleedovee // @kamalymaly // @onewithnomightypowers // @y-napotat // @riahmcq // @thequeenofthefallen // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @fnnshelbys // @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul // @banbananas // @beans-and-toast // @violetvictoriabarnes // @oikawasblueearbud // @itsarussian // @mrsbarnesinmyimagination // @oopsiedoopsie23 // @luhuhzy // @heyimjustlaura12 // @moonlightreader649 // @petalren // @sighbuckybarnes // @soldat-petala // @useless-creature-213 // @aftermatharchives

[darke15]

Helloooo Rhymieeeeeee @rhymingtree

I'm actually terrified to read this because you messaged me at six in the morning telling me how ✨excited✨ you were for us to read this, and that couldn't mean anything good.

Oh c’mon 😂

Also I have yet to re-read Aftermath from the beginning, therefore I know nothing of all the rewrites. 🙃 This'll be confusing. I'll get to reading them eventually, when I move on from everything that happens after chapter one.

🖤🖤🖤

Ooh another flashback from Wraith's POV…

It’s gonna be a fun time 😈 i can’t wait to write the plane scene in tokyo from his pov 

I love how cocky Ollie was at the beginning, how he underestimates Alpha One and keeps looking down at them in his head, all the while I've always seen him as the baby of the group.

He’s a pretentious little shit 

Poor Ollie got one upped by an old man..

Ain’t nothing poor about oliver walsh he’s been a douche from the start 

GOOD THINGS ALWAYS PRECEDE THE BAD

Ohhhh c’monnnnnn rhymieeeeeee 

Duke and I are pulling the same face right now

Lol 

Hehe that one scene from MoM came to mind

Yessssssssss she’s almost fully unhinged and it’s scary 😈

If I were Wraith, I would have shit my pants if Ghost actually walked in looking like that

Same tho 

I'm loving Duke's reaction to this, it's so out of pocket

He hit his head a little hard and now he went from brave final words to: i’m not dying yet and this asshole really thought Ghost would just let him kill me. 

OOOOOH FERAL!GHOST IS HERE BITCHESSSS

yessssssssssssssssss

She wouldn’t be that angry unless she’d just lost everything. Which meant he’d lost everything.  His best friend. His fiance. His family. 

Gee golly thanks for the reminder that that happened

You’re welcome 

I have to remind myself he's still here every now and then

How you forget Rampaging Russian? That’s rude ☹️

Duke's going through an absolute rollercoaster right now

We all are

Jesus, Darke give your OCs a break

No 

YESSSS ZAAAC

YAHHHHSSSSSSS

THE CHEER I LET OUT

🖤🖤🖤

THERE'S OUR LIL MURDER BOY

🤣🤣🤣

OH

MY

DARKE

“Your mom.”

i NEVER THOUGHT A YOUR MOM JOKE COULD MAKE ME BURST INTO TEARS BUT HERE I FUCKIN AM

Congratulations. You’ve unlocked an achievement 

SHE'S ALIVE

Yessssss 🖤🖤🖤

Darke I swear to god I'm gonna murder you for this weeks long deception

😌😌😌

how is everyone in this damn team so hard to kill

They’re all part cockroach?

Boone could get catapulted into space without a suit and she'd just be floating up there doing cartwheels over the moon

😂😂😂

I don't like seeing him cry like this Darke why are you doing this to the poor guy

I’m sorry!

EVERETT FUCKING ROSS

His redemption arc begins 

I love these headers Darke

Same tho 

but I still have no clue when any of this is happening

earlier

mostly my fault, I can't really think clearly when I'm crying my ass off

Why you cry? Everybody’s mostly okay 

I love how much of an influence Montana's become to her New York. Look at him, lying to everyone he knows.

🤣🤣🤣

I did not like the emotional manipulation I had to put up with the past week Darke. 😑 No matter how well you write it.

I told you i’d make it better

“Have you dipshits been stressing out Christopher?” Boone frowned, eyeing him worriedly, “His accent’s gotten stronger.”

Who wouldn't be stressed, girl you fuckin faked your death and I fell for it

🤣🤣🤣

I swore at Darke in two different languages, that is the epitome of stress

Don’t worry, i’m used to it 

I had to cut my caffeine intake so I don't die of a fucking heart attack reading these past few chapters

oof 

I think I need to see a doctor.

😬😬😬

NO NOT ART, DORIAN AND GABE

I sorry 😔

Not the ones I specifically left out alive in GIS and FTS come oooon

Oof really sorry 

I'm actually really sad about them being gone this isn't fun

Same tho 

It's scary seeing Ghost like this.

😈😈😈

she's craving Ollie's blood, she wants to see him die, but at the same time she's completely aware how this whole war with Wraith is affecting and has been affecting the people she loves.

So true 

But she wants him to suffer. She wants him to feel just a little bit of the fear and dread she felt because of him, even though it'll get her hurt, and probably get everyone else killed in the process

😏😏😏

it's heartbreaking

and fucking scary

but hey it's exciting woohoo

🤣🤣🤣

What's Ollie doing rifling through Duke's shit

He’s looking for clues 

YELENAAAA

Yessssssssssss 🖤

IT'S A HAPPY ENDING... sorta

FOR ONCE

😌😌😌 you’re welcome 

I DID NOT END THE CHAPTER WITH TEARS

Congratulations! You’ve unlocked another achievement 

I love that footage of Boone hitting the soldiers with her van. I love that they were cowering in fear as she trampled over them.

It makes me giggle 

You still haven't been forgiven for the tornado of what the fuckery you put me through last week.

Okay 😔

Boone being alive is great, but I am still very much hurt by that. 😑

Sowwy 🥺

Chapter 73 // KILL SWITCH

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

You could have lost them. You could have lost all of them. All because you were too blind to see through Wraith's charade. 

You were supposed to be better than this. You were supposed to be the best of the best. That’s what you were trained to be. 

You felt something shift deep inside of you, bringing with it a familiar certainty. Something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

It was cold and calculated and focused. It knew exactly what it had to do and when to do it. 

It had been cooped up inside you for so, so long, shoved to the back of your mind to never see the light of day again. You’d let it slip through the cracks a seldom few times but, now?

Now, it wanted out. 

It wanted to rage and rampage and take what it was owed. 

Revenge. 

It was aggressive, yet charming. Exactly what Commander Weston had trained it to be. It was reckless and vigilant. It was impulsive and deliberate. 

Ghost.

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

Chapter 73  // KILL SWITCH

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

» Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇTᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

TAGLIST :

***anyone with a strike through their handle means I couldn't tag you 😔

@thexbookxnerdx // @autumn-em // @fadingbakeryfarmoperator // @rhymingtree // @itsmeatballworld // @kippykasey // @turtleedovee // @kamalymaly // @onewithnomightypowers // @y-napotat // @riahmcq // @thequeenofthefallen // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @fnnshelbys // @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul // @banbananas // @beans-and-toast // @violetvictoriabarnes // @oikawasblueearbud // @itsarussian // @mrsbarnesinmyimagination // @oopsiedoopsie23 // @luhuhzy // @heyimjustlaura12 // @moonlightreader649 // @petalren // @sighbuckybarnes // @soldat-petala // @useless-creature-213 // @aftermatharchives