#i’m kinda broken and i haven’t stopped crying

[bingqiv]

aemond passed away this evening. just wanted to post some sort of acknowledgement of him.

[rafedaddy01]

Waitttt but we need more welcome neighbor🫢🫢

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Pt2 || Pt1 || Pt3

After the incident in your bathroom, it didn’t stop there. Rafe would sneak over whenever his wife was at work and your husband was away on a work trip. It became and addiction. Rafe was your drug and one dose of him kept you satisfied. You were currently bent over your dining room table as he rammed into you from the back, gripping your hair in a tight ponytail as he dragged your face back and whispered dirty things in your ear.

He turned your face to him and devoured your lips, one hand snaked around to choke your throat, all while his cock pounded into you at an aggressive pace.

He grunted like a beast as he pushed harder.

Your moans swallowed by his tongue.

He bit your lip as he pulled away and your head fell to the table, your body limp and the pleasure taking over.

“Your such a dirty girl, taking my cock while your husband could be home any minute” Rafes words egged you on and you experienced the most mind blowing orgasm you’ve ever had, your legs trembled as you came and rafe followed not to long after you. He pulled out and cleaned up his mess before lifting your chin and kissing your soft lips.

“We can’t keep doing this, rafe” your eyes filled with tears. You knew this was wrong, that cheating on your husband was an act of betrayal that you couldn’t ever get forgiven for. You knew that it would hurt Olivia, who had become kinda your best friends these past few weeks. But the real reason you were crying was because you had started to fall for rafe, not just because of the sex. He listened to you, he made you laugh, he understood you. And those were things your husband was lacking lately. You loved your husband too, but you weren’t sure if you were still in love with him. “It’s wrong” you squeaked out, your voice cracking as the tears started to flow. “Hey..” Rafe gripped you in a tight hug, soothing you as he rubbed your back. “I’m- I’m sorry, y/n. I never should have initiated this” Rafe sighed as he took in your broken form. When he first started this it was just another woman he chested on his wife with, he did it every time they moved to a new state, which was often because of Olivia’s job. But something about you was different. He wouldn’t express it with words ever, but he sorta felt attached to you. You listened to him, you laughed at his silly jokes, and you understood him on a deeper level, more than anybody else ever could. You listened when he talked about the issues with his dad, and you didn’t tell him that he needs to man up and get over this feud like this wife did. He simply just felt at home when he was around you. But he’d never admit it, which is why he just apologized and swiftly kissed your cheek, inhaling your scent as he knew it would be the last time, and leaving you to sob on your kitchen floor.

The next few days you rarely saw rafe, and when you did it was awkward. Olivia had invited you to dinner, but you had to decline. Even thinking about seeing rafe would literally make you sick to your stomach. You told her you weren’t feeling well, which wasn’t a full lie. You felt sick and had been throwing up all morning. You thought it was just nerves, but your stomach dropped as you remembered you didn’t have a period this month. You and rafe never used condoms but he always pulled out, except that very first time in the bathroom. You never used condoms with your husband either, and although you haven’t had sex with him this week, it has happened in the last month. You decided to not worry until you got a test, you could just be stressed and it caused your period to delay a few days (hopefully). You immediately got in the car and headed to the drug store. You picked up two tests just so you could be certain. As you were leaving you bumped into someone, dropping the tests onto the ground, both of you bent to pick them up and when your hands touched your heart was beating faster than a drum. “Oh, y/n!” Olivia’s cheerful voice made you nauseous. “Olivia” you quickly swiped the tests up and under your arm. But it was too late, she had seen them. “I see why you couldn’t make dinner tonight” she jokes as she smiles at you. “You and Will have been busy” she winks at you and your heart sinks even more. You don’t even know if you’re pregnant and if you are you don’t even know who the father is. “Yes” you force a smile as you laugh, trying desperately to hold it together and get out of this situation faster. “Well, I should get going..” you clear your throat as you start to turn away from her. “It was nice seeing you, have a good one” you practically run to the cashier before she’s able to even get one word in. You pay for the tests and race home before your husband gets home.

As you set the timer and sit on the ground, you don’t know if you should cry or scream. All of this is too much. Your relationship with rafe, your maybe pregnancy, not knowing who the father is, cheating on your husband, betraying your friend. Your minds riddled with thoughts, getting lost in them. But it always ends up on rafe. The way he smiles at you, the way he holds you, the way- the timer goes off and you jump to you feet. Biting your nails anxiously as you take a breath and reach for the tests, but the ding of your phone distracts you. You read the message: you’re pregnant? -Rafe

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover

[charliemwrites]

I love the fic about reader trying to run away and how amazing you do all of your writing

(Don't do this if you don't wanna for any reason)

Could you do one where like johhny comes over and sees how different she's acting afterwards and how simon has her on a leash and collar and just how it would go with them both there, just how broken she seems and Simon trying to bring even price or gaz around but it only make sit worse and she kinda shuts down on him?

Could I be 🐇?

Hey there!!! You’re welcome to be 🐇 and thank you so so much for the compliment. It’s been a while since I wrote some proper angst… hope it turns out!!

(Warnings for depressed feral, a vague line that could be read as implied self harm - red skin around a collar. Please take care of yourselves!!!)

Simon doesn’t know what to do. You’ve haven’t spoken more than a handful of words in two weeks. You cry all the time, especially when you think hes not looking. Most of your time is spent in your room, up in your bed. Or out on the sun porch, just staring.

You’ve given up on tugging at the collar in front of him but he sees red marks around it in the mornings. He takes care of them of course, ointment and bandages. You lean away most times, pressing you back into the wall, and get misty-eyed when he insists.

He keeps a leash on you at all times. It’s a long one, but you’ve tripped over it twice and burst into tears both times. Big heaving sobs, and when he tries to comfort you, it’s the most animated you’ve been since he put the collar on. You kick and scream, an awful noise that cracks his heart in two.

And you just won’t interact with him. You don’t look when he speaks, don’t snuggle him on the couch. You even flinch away when he reaches for you, mouth twisted.

He thinks that maybe you just need a different bit of normalcy. A reset. He brings Johnny by without telling you, hoping for a reaction like when you first met.

But you just lie on the couch, barely even acknowledge that the door is open. Johnny swaggers over, loud and boisterous, crouches down in front of you and scritches behind your ears. You just squeeze your eyes shut and press back into the couch, trying to get away…. But not really. He shoots simon a worried look. Goes so far as to press his fingers against your lips.

All you do is mumble a quiet, “please stop.”

Simon could tear his fucking hair out.

He brings Price. You just squeeze your eyes shut like you’re having a bad dream. He lifts you up into his arms, even, but you’re deadweight. Don’t even grab at him to feel more secure.

“Can I get down now,” you ask when he stares in silence.

He puts you down. You just back away, head ducked, and tug absently at the latch of your leash.

“You understand that Simon has to do this, yeah?” he tries, hoping for defiance.

You stare at the floor, silent.

“Come on, wild thing, answer me,” he coaxes.

“Not… not really wild, am I?” you whisper, tugging harder.

“Enough, pretty,” Simon interjects, guiding your hand away. It falls limp at your side.

“Guess I’m still that,” you sigh, rubbing at your cheek. You slip away to the armchair, where you can be curled up tight and alone. Simon feels himself die a little more.

Finally, finally, he brings Gaz. He doesn’t do anything anyone else has done. He sees you, eases closer, and just sits on the ground beside you, back to the couch. Simon sighs, goes to make dinner. You curl up tighter.

“Kyle?”

“Hm?”

“It… might be time to make that call.”

[jailbird-junkrat-writes]

I am a smidge rusty from not writing for a hot sec and also this is my first Overwatch fic in -years-

Canon: Kinda?

SFW Ramattra x GN Reader Words: 870

-----

You’d been wondering for longer than you cared to think about. The days had twisted together as each footstep became painful. Your shoes worn away from the unforgiving and ever changing weather. Your feet ached and burned with each step as threadbare sneakers were no match for the rocks underfoot. Each step was slippery and treacherous as you tried to battle with gripless feet over smooth pebbles, which you had wrongly thought would hurt less than trying to climb the jagged rocks.

Least they didn’t cut your hands when you fell and calught yourself.

You let out a broken sob for the first time since you left home. So stubborn and determined not to let the pain seep out of you, fear of once you started you could never stop. But right then, as the thunder rippled in the distance and the cold rain began to fall on your defeated form, you allowed yourself to cry along with the heavens above.

Maybe here and now was where you should just give up. It wasn’t like you had a place to return anyway and you had no idea where you even were. You let out a sigh as the clothes started to stick to your skin as the rain came crashing down. The lighting that struck across the darkness of the sky go you back on your feet enough to sramble up the slippy slope towards the mouth of a shallow cave.

At least it was dry in here.

You took a breath and leaned against the wall, just watching the lighting flash and feel the rumble of thunder in your chest. Still feeling pitiful for yourself. You almost didn’t hear the sound or rocks being desturbed outside the mouth of the cave untill what little light the sky offered you was blocked by a large shape, red lights glowed in the darkness and you jumped when lightining cracked again, enough to light up the the cave and saw the omnic.

“

“Appolgies,” he said, voice well spoken and a pleasent sound. “There’s room for two,” you mumbled and backed further inside as he hunched down, making a mess of the rocks and stones with his large feet as he got comfortable, though he was hunched over. You took a moment to take the omnic in. He was dressed in robes, he must have been from the monastry you’d heard about.

“I guess you guys aren’t waterproof?” You tried to joke, watching your new friends faceplate  turn, taking you in with a low hum. “I could say the same for you, and yet, you cower in here.” Ramattra replied, head tilting to one side, waiting for your comeback.

You just laughed and shurgged. “I guess so,” 

The silence started to drag and you no longer felt it appropriate to sob and lement your awful existance now you had comapny. “I haven’t seen a ravager unit in years,”

“And I do not scare you?” he asked, a question in his tone as you shifted. “Why would it? Humans have done more harm to me then any of your kind has. The reason I’m here is to get away from other humans,” you offered up all this information so freely that Ramattra believed the words.

You introduced yourself to the omnic in the monks robes, offering him a hand which he hesitated to take at first. He however, did shake your hand and you shivered, the cold metal that had been outside touching your warm flesh. “Ramattra,” he said firmly. 

“What brings you here?” you asked as the strom grew worse outside the crave, the wind picking up, becoming violent as it whiped through the valley and it’s slopes, hitting against the rocks that sat pocaraslly.

“Same as you, shelter.” he really was a man of few words wasn’t he? Maybe he didn’e like humans… After what your kind had done you wouldn’t have been surprised, you weren’t crazy about people either.

You were about to switch gears, try and ask something else. You knew you were simply desperate for company after so much solitude, and you thought his voice was wounderful. There was a loud thud outside, one of the large rock piles that formed peeks coming losing, gaining momentum. You gasped when the cave started to shake and the ceiling rattled, coming loose.

“Get down,” Ramattra demanded and you did as you were told, his hulking form crouching over you. Two large arms appeared out of nowhere, Ramattra seemed twice as big as before, making him terrifrying in an instant. But with his new form he hunched over you, arms around your form as the cave crumbled around you both.

Was this how you’d die?

The darkness dissipated as the ominic stood up, flexing his second pair of arms,knocking off the earth that had trapped you both. You watched as his body moved, impressive, was all you could think before he tucked them in and looked down at you. “I trust you are in an acceptable condition to stand?”

“Yea-yes, thanks.” You mumbled and took the hand offered you, pulling up from the floor you almost fell at how unblanced you’d been.

“It seems you are too weak to be alone, perhaps you should come with me.” Ramattra looked at you as you considered his offer… 

“Alright,”

[turtlethebean]

BenJacob Week Day 2: Loss

(Sorry for not uploading anything for day 1, I was sick, and it kind of snuck up on me)

Read it on AO3: All That's Dead and Gone - Turtle_The_Bean - Criminal Case (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

If you're wondering why there was no content for this week yesterday, it's not because it was art on Tumblr this time. I was sick over the past week so it just kinda creeped up on me. Anyways, enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Ben always enjoyed the nighttime. When he was working for the military, it was the only time he would get away from others, but now, it was a time for him to relax with some chamomile tea while looking at the stars. It was peaceful, being alone with his own thoughts and a cup of tea beneath the stars. A nice way to unwind after a busy day.

However, tonight was not going to be as peaceful and relaxing as it was supposed to be.

It started off normal enough. He made his tea and was just about to take it outside when he heard knocking at the door. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, especially this late at night, so he peeked through the peephole. His best friend, Jacob Arrow, was standing outside, covered in blood. Frightened by this sudden interruption of his usual routine, he put his tea down on a nearby table and helped his friend into his house.

“Jake, Jesus, what happened to you?” Ben asked as his friend almost collapsed in his arms.

“I…I haven’t a clue.” Jacob panted, clutching his head with one hand and his chest with the other. Between the whole ordeal that he just escaped from and running all the way to Ben’s house, he felt dizzy, more than likely due to the hyperventilation.

“Well, before you explain, let me sit you down and fix you a cup of tea. I’ll tend to your wounds as well.”

Jacob sat himself down on the couch while Ben returned to the kitchen to make some tea for his friend. He made oolong tea, seeing as times like this would typically call for one’s favourite tea, and grabbed the first aid kit from a drawer before heading into the living room.

He first got Jacob to remove his hand from his face, revealing a deep wound underneath. It looked like it would scar, but the military made both of them used to scars. He stitched up the wound before putting a bandage on it. He then moved on to the other wounds, which were scattered around his body.

“Thanks for this.” Jacob sighed solemnly, taking a sip of his oolong tea to distract himself from the mental and physical pain.

“No problem. I mean, what are friends for?” Ben chuckled, fixing a wound on his waist, “Anyways, you mind explaining to me what happened to you?”

“I’m trying to figure that out myself. Some deranged lunatic attacked me and Lily. It…it was a weird experience.”

“Is…is Lily okay?” Ben realised Jacob’s wife wasn’t with them. But she survived, right?

“I…I think she died. After I killed the guy who was attacking us, I went to make sure she was okay and…she was cold. She lost so much blood, and I didn’t get to her in time.”

Ben stopped himself in the midst of tending to Jacob’s wounds. He saw that his friend was crying and immediately put his first aid kit away to comfort him. Both of them wished it wasn’t real, but the tears rolling down Jacob’s face confirmed it. Lily was dead, and it was all because of some random person who had broken into their house.

While Jacob had killed the perpetrator, Ben still wanted to know who it was. After all, there were plenty of people who hated the military.

“Are you able to describe the guy who did this? Anything might help.” He restarted tending to his friend’s injuries. His new plan was to finish with these injuries and let Jacob sleep while he looked up the person who attacked him.

“Call me crazy, and trust me, I feel like it, but…I think it was a vampire.”  Jacob answered, voice hoarse from crying.

Ben chuckled awkwardly before realising Jacob was being completely serious. He was joking, though, right? Maybe he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation? Something was definitely up here.

“What do you mean?” Ben finished the last of his friend’s injuries so that he could look him in the eyes.

“When he attacked Lily, he bit her in the neck. Now, I’ve seen people bleed out on the battlefield, but she bled out much faster than normal. That alone wouldn’t be enough to prove it, but then there was when I tried to kill him that confirmed it. He seemed…untouchable when I shot at him like the bullets were just going through him. It wasn’t until I cut his head off with an axe that I was able to stop him.”

He wasn’t joking. That definitely sounded like the vampires you would hear about in fiction. Watching your wife die to one was probably the worst way to find out they’re real, making Ben feel even worse for Jacob.

He wasn’t sure how else to react. Hell, he hadn’t even really seen Jacob cry before. The closest he got to that was his wedding day, but that was a completely different circumstance. Marrying your wife is different to watching her die right in front of you, and nobody should experience it, especially with how recent their wedding was.

“I feel like I need something stronger than tea. Do you want a beer?” Ben got up off the couch and walked over to his fridge to get himself a drink.

“No, right now, I think I just want to sleep.”

“Do you at least want another cup of tea to get you to sleep?”

“Nah, I haven’t even drunk half of this cup. Besides, I…I think I have an idea of what I’m going to do.”

“Really? You already killed the guy. What else can you do besides defend yourself in court when they realise you killed him in self-defence?”

“You remember that guy from the army who was always a bit…cuckoo? He wasn’t that much older than us, if I remember right.”

“Falcon? What about- Oh yeah, he used to say things like werewolves were real, didn’t he? Yeah, I think I see where you’re going with this.”

“He said he was going to hunt them down after he was discharged. I’m going to find him and see if he can teach me how to defend myself and others against these people. I don’t want anyone to end up like Lily…or me.”

Ben always admired Jacob’s bravery and determination to protect everyone around him, especially those he loved and cared about. Seeing this still shining through despite what happened that night gave him hope for his friend’s future. Sure, he had some learning to do, but Ben was certain he’d get there.

“Hey,” Ben took Jacob’s hands in his, “Jake, I’m not much of a fighter, but remember, if you ever need someone to help you with your wounds, especially in battle, then you can just call me. I’ll always be there for you, no matter what.”

“Thanks, you have no clue how much that means to me, especially right now.” Jacob rested his head on Ben’s chest, falling asleep there. Ben prayed his racing heart wouldn’t wake him up but soon drifted off into a slumber of his own.

[ccraccz]

Spider Lillies

┏━°⌜防風鈴 ⌟°━┓

Chapter 5

┗━°⌜防風鈴 ⌟°━┛

“Gramps…” Ryuu was ten years old.

“Shut it, Ryuu.” His Granpa turns around, his phone broken and a dent on the wall of the house they live in. Grandpa walks away, not showing the kid the tears that were gathering in the corners of his crinkled eyes. 

The next day, Grandpa was a whole different person, commanding and dull. He got angry easily, and yelled at him for every little mistake he made, scolded him, cussed at him, hell. He even threw him out for a day.

Grandpa had become more scary and controlling, he was berating and furious… and his words became more believable and true.

Every night, Ryuu would finish practice, and walk back to his room and cry as he scolds himself in the cold shower.

Ryuu’s life became more and more dull after that, barely being able to go outside.

“That belongs to Furin.”  “Yup! I know!!” The short male loudly speaks “Are you mad? Did I rile you up??” He teased

From behind, Ryuu was able to watch Umemiya tilt his head to the side before he responded “You sure seem happy.” Everyone is quiet, watching the two leaders speak to each other. Thoughts were loudly working through Sakura’s brain. ‘He’s confronting Umemiya… And laughing in his face…’ Sakura sweats ‘He’s gotta be some kinda monster…’

The shot male lets go of the Bofurin member, letting him fall with the megaphone he used to call over the group on the roof. “Alrighty, Ume-chan,” The teen starts hopping around, fists up as he taunts the taller male. “Face me! One-on-One! Your side’s the one who messed with us first!”

“...”

“Now there’s a good reason to brawl it out!”

Shishitoren’s leader gets closer and hops around Umemiya. “Fight me!~ Fight me!~” he sings as he jumps and claps in a circle around Umemiya.

“You’re right,” Ryuu pouts at what Umemiya answers with “We’re the ones who struck first.” His answer stops Choji “But… You mowed down a ton of my guys, too.”

“You’ve got your fill now, haven’t you?”

“We’re even”

Ryuu steps forward slightly, only for Hiragi’s arm to black him.

“I need to check on the dude that hurt on the floor…” Ryuu whispers.

“Later, Umemiya will get angry if you move from here,” Hiragi explains, looking at the brunette from the corner of his eye. Ryuu nods and stands back beside Hiragi.

“Is… He satisfied, then…?” Nirei asks no one, nervously standing behind Suo. “You should just turn around and—” Umemiya was cut off by Choji huffing before acting quickly and kicking at Umemiya with such force is made a SHWACKT sound

This took the first years off guard, making them look at the scene with wide eyes and furrowed brows. “Great… You’re just as impatient as ever,” Umemiya spoke, holding onto Choji’s ankle, his food just centimeters away from hitting his head. Choji smirks before jumping away. “Say, Ume-chan… Now that I’ve struck first… It’s your turn!

“C’mon! C’mon!” He claps, face bright and smiling like a child “Ya gotta pay me back, right?!”

Umemiya is quiet for a second before he speaks again.

“Why do you wanna fight so badly?” he asks, taking the shorter male’s attention off of the main topic.

“Huh?” Choji looks at Umemiya with wide eyes before answering, “Hmm… It’s not that I want to fight.”

“...But what I want…” Choji points at Umemiya, his smile growing sinister and his eyes swirling with something unrecognizable “..Is YOU Ume-chan.” The group stiffens at the answer, everyone having almost the same reaction of confusion and shock at what the shorter male just said. Ryuu took a sharp breath through his nose, eye widening at what the shorter male said. Umemiya stays quiet at the answer.

“It’s been So Damn Boring since I made my way to the top…” Choji explains, “But, Ume-chan…” he stops.

“Even though you’re at the top, too… You’re always laughing and smiling like you’re having the time of your life.”

‘That’s so UNFAIR…’ “That’s why I’m going to take all of Furin…” Choji tightens his fists “...And YOU for MYSELF!”

There’s a loud, claustrophobic silence for a few seconds, the air was almost hard to breathe in as they witnessed the interaction between both representatives. “Th…That’s just ridiculous…” Nirei mumbled, shaking in his spot behind Suo.

“Is that it…?” Umemiya answers Choji's proclamation of war. “Tomiyama… You’ve got it hard, huh?” He asks the teen in orange who tilts his head in question.

“Wuh?”

“He, Hey, Hey…” A new voice arrives from behind Choji, recognizable and slurred, “What kinda crazy, illogical bullshit are you feeding our general here…?” Choji turns around, confused at the newcomers. “Huh? Why’re you all here?” he asks.

“You’re our general, boss… Don’t go raiding the enemies on your own…” The whole group of lions came up behind the leader, “...Don’t take all the fun for yourself.”

“Sheesh, the moment I told you the Gist of what happened, you rushed right outta there.” Togame restates the situation that happened before that led to this “I’ve always said, you needa listen to everything I gotta tell you…” He scolds.

Everyone from the group that was outside walks forward, making Umemiya look at the freshmen who stepped up to help.

“Why, if it isn’t Othello-kun… Short time no see.” "Yo, scraggles.”

“Ah! And if it isn’t Kid-Doctor.” “Did you take him to see a professional?” Ryuu asks, standing beside Hiragi and looking over at Togame. Hand near his lips.

Togame sighs, “Yeah, I did…”

“Hey. I told you guys to stay—” Umemiya gets cut off, stopping his scolding due to Sakura. “SHADDUP!” He calls out “If you’re going one-on-one, then I won’t interrupt. But I don’t like it when one guy is surrounded by a whole damn group!”

Umemiya sighs, smiling down at the first year who called him out. “GAAAH! I’m about to fight Ume-chan, you all of you back ooooooff!” Choji complains, stomping and swinging his pointing hand around like a child during a tantrum. “Hmmmm…” Togame points up at the windows of the Bofurin Headquarters, “I think it’ll be a bit difficult for that, don’t you think? Take a look around.”

The freshmen look up at the windows, taking in the view of all of Furin’s students, from First years to third years, looking down at them from the glass panes, both open and closed, ready to act if things got serious. Some were already outside, ready to fight if things got serious. “Whoa…” Nirei’s face became more and more blue in anxiousness, “This is getting outta hand!” he shakily said. Umemiya takes a deep breath, not turning around as he got more and more serious.

“DON’T MOVE A MUSCLE, ALL OF YOU!!” He loudly commands, everyone turning around to face the male that leads them. “Tomiyama,” He grabs Shishitoren’s leader's attention again. “I’ll take ya on. Now order your men to step back.” “Okaaaaaay! I just wanna fight YOU, Ume-Chan!”

“What the hell?” one of the guys they met before walks up “Their general sure is a softy. Or… Is he just scared?” The male grins, the taunt working.

“YOU. I’ll Crush Your Skull.” Sugishita glares at the male. “C’mon, Don’t get pissy just ‘cuz I’m right.” “Hey, wasn’t that one of the kids?” Man Bun asks, “Oh, I knew it! They’re so PLAIN, but I could tell right away! Hee hee! I’m good!” He giggles like a child, bringing his hands closer to his face. “Heh Heh,” Suo laughs, “You’ve got one craggy-looking face, but you talk like a little boy! Aren’t you a cute one?” Suo smiles as he speaks, knowing that it would rile up the enemy and freak out Nirei at the same time. “That annoying prick…” The male mumbles, as his eyebrows scrunch together and something snaps. “C’mon, guys! Calm down!” Togame waves them down. “Choji, it might be better to pick another day if you wanna face off against him.”

“WHY?!” “Look up. It’s about to get dark… Plus, we never planned on coming today anyway,” He states the obvious “If you end up fighting in the dark… Then you won’t get a clear view of his swollen, beat-up face. Right, Othello-kun?” Togame grins creepily. “How do you plan on looking at your own face in the middle of a field?” Sakura retorts at the taunt. Ryuu shook his head, a disgusting feeling growing in his tummy. ��Is this what Hiragi constantly feels like?’ he bites the inside of his cheek in nervousness. “Ohhh…?” Choji looks around “Does everyone know each other?”

“Well, in that case, Ume-chan…” He hops in front of his group, “Why don’t we all go at it?” Umemiya looks at him, confused at the implications, and swearing the shorter with a “Hah?”

“Oh! I don’t mean we should blow this up into a total bawl,” Choji explains “But we can all face off One-on-One! It’ll be like a tournament! It’ll be fun!”

Ryuu shakes his head at that, sighing knowing he was about the get dragged into fighting. “Like a kendo team competition?” Togame asks, a small smile on his face at the idea “I like the sounds of that.” “Yeah, Yeah!” “So while we’re at it…” Togame gets cut off. “It’s good, right? Yeah!” “... We’ll invite them to a match…” He gets cut off again. “Yay! Yahoo!”

“...I’m not finished…”

“All right, the matches will be…” “Choji and Umemiya” “Me and… Othello-kun” “It’s Sakura,” He responds. Side shaved grins, “Let me at that long mop over there.” “And I’ll take eyepatch…” “Awee, sweet of you to choose me, little baby!” Suo smiles.

“Hey! If we’re facing off, then you don’t need to involve the others,” Umemiya speaks up, not up for the ‘kendo tournament’ they’ve decided to create “You and I can fight,” he finishes. “Whaaaaat?!” Choji whines “But it’s a lot more fun if everyone joins in!”

“We…” Sakura steps up with both an enraged Sugishita and a smiling Suo. A horrified Nirei hid behind the smiling boy. “Would prefer a chance to beat ‘em up, too.”

“Seee?” Choji sings. “For cripe’s sake. The first years this time around are such a handful…” Hiragi says, Ryuu laughing beside him. “May we join, too” Two males from Shishitoren raise their hands, one of them speaking for the both. The male with foxy eyes points at Hiragi before saying, “I want to fight Hiragi-san.” “Sako…” Hiragi’s eyes are wide ashe whispers the boys name. Ryuu looks at Hiragi before looking back at the two males. “Zuki would like to fight the brunette overthere.”

Zuki nodded, green eyes looking at Ryuu’s blue one as Ryuu nodded at him. “Sorry, Umemiya…” Ryuu looked at Hiragi, who clenched his fists tightly and frowned. “I’m takin’ part.” “Okay! Then it’s decided!”

“In the name of our teams… LETS ALL HAVE THE TIME OF OUR LIVES AND… DUKE IT OUT!”

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

BREAK

(About Osamu Ryuu)

Has a lot of bandaids

has a really old wallet that his gramps had, which is quite tattered but it holds things quite well

carries stickers around to give kids

always has extra hair ties on him, just incase his breaks or someone else needs one

picks at the skin around his nails

tilts his head and smiles when he's confused

pulls at friend's sleeves to grab their attention

he pets every animal he sees, they come towards him like he's snow white

one time he was found sleeping in a park, sitting against a tree, with a few birds on his shoulders 

His handwriting is very cute, small and smooth

He used to play the cello in Korea

He's from Australia but moved to South Korea with his Gramps

When he's focused, he sticks out his tongue a little bit

He really likes chewy foods, especially Udon!

He hums to himself when he thinks he's alone, specifically songs he has played on the cello

He has a creepily good sense of smell... and he smells everything that is handed to him, from drinks and foods, to even chemicals that mayyy not be safe to sniff directly...

[billy-cockblock]

It is deep into the AMs, I have class tomorrow morning, and I can’t sleep; perfect conditions to write out my thoughts on a potential In Sound Mind sequel.

Apparently, their original plans for the game were for an open world with more patients’s stories for you to explore, but had to be changed around and reduced to the more linear game of just 4 patients we have today. In a hypothetical sequel, we could potentially see the original idea played in a new way.

In Desmond’s closing words recorded on the light pole tapes, he talks about how he can feel something is different with him and his brain is pulsing, hinting that overcoming his exposure to agent rainbow could have left him with consequences to being connected to the collective unconscious. Rosemary says it turns people into walking radio towers and that she can hear people who’ve been exposed to it on the radio; radio waves and brain waves stuff. In Lucas’s hidden tapes, he says he met someone who was also exposed to agent rainbow who heard him crying for help in their head. Desmond literally contacts him for help by sending him a message in his head.

I’m putting all this out here to lead up to the fact that, with agent rainbow, it has been proven someone can get into other peoples’ heads, since that’s exactly what Dr. Wales does throughout the game. However, the whole time, he’s unconscious, under the effects of agent rainbow, and kinda been lead along by his Agent Rainbow shadow.

But what’s gonna happen once he wakes up? Now that he’s beaten it, he won’t succumb to his shadow, but that’s not going to cut off his access to the collective unconscious. Will he still be able to somehow access peoples’ minds when he wakes up?

Well, now doesn’t that sound like a wonderful mechanic for a new game.

My shot in the dark for what a sequel could look like is a potential open world sorta-mystery, sorta-quest game where you have to use Desmond’s access to the collective unconscious to enter the minds of townsfolk around Milton Haven to help them overcome their agent rainbow exposure, hunt down Mayer Pharmaceuticals and their government sponsors, and find a way to shut it down.

A horrible dread spread across Milton Haven when they contaminated the water supply, and we could play as a therapist determined to quell peoples’ fears and ease the chemical’s effects on them while we search for a way to put a stop to agent rainbow’s development and spread. Rosemary wrote in one of her logs that access to the collective unconscious would be enough to drive any man mad, so I can’t imagine Desmond would be having a walk in the park with his exposure, and I don’t think he’d want anyone else to be put in the same predicament he’s in. Maybe he can have the ability to ease people out of agent rainbows control and out of reach to the collective unconscious.

With this, we could also get the opportunity to see some of the characters we only see notes from or allusion to in the game. Maybe we could hear how Dave’s doing after the Virginia incident at Homa-Mart, or we could see how Gary the electrician’s jaw is healing after getting broken. Just some fun little cameos from the characters we only have notes from.

I’m finally starting to get tired, so I’m gonna cut this here. Felt good to just write some thoughts out tho. Might write a short something later if I have time. I’ve got an exam later this week I haven’t even begun studying for.

[chloefraazers]

it’s 2:45am and i just finished veilguard. spoilers under the cut.

i’ll start with some crit since it’s fresh. for the record, i went into veilguard with no preconceived notions of rook’s personality, or even the companions outside of vows & vengeance, so i had no… expectations ≠ reality, in that sense.

but. not gonna lie… i was let down by the lucanis romance. i understand it’s a slowburn, but there wasn’t a lot of payoff. which sucks, because the almost kiss is one of the sexiest things bioware has ever done. idk… i felt that their culmination of their romance was a little rushed, like it was just getting it out of the way. not that i expected a full on sex scene, i wouldn’t have wanted that, but even their kiss was semi-off-screen and barely a peck, idk. it kinda made me more upset during their final conversation/love blurt, because it didn’t feel earned.

also this one is just personal preference but in the cafe date, rook can tell lucanis they’ve never been kissed before—i guess i kind of expected that to come up if it was chosen, since bioware is known for callbacks like that.

personally i’m a little bummed because lucanis as a character hits almost all of my favourite fictional romantic tropes, so… yeah little sore.

i think my other crit is that… as much as i LOVE the companions and doing things/spending time with them, i kinda wish act 2 had more Big Plots connected to the main story. not a whole lot. i think even one more halfway through would be good, idk.

oh and a final one: the ending felt a little abrupt? idk how else to describe it.

anyway uh good things!

well i haven’t stopped crying since i finished isle of the gods at midnight.

my solavellan heart is satisfied. all i wanted was for solas to see lavellan and go “vhenan…” in a broken voice and i got that. and it hurt more than i ever imagined. thought i had my tears under control and then that happened and i’ve been ugly sobbing ever since.

thank god bellara was okay because if i had to lose her after harding… oof. i was not expecting virmire 2.0.

varric… fuck. i mean. i figured that was the case when harding didn’t even acknowledge him at the start but. that whole goodbye fucking hurt. i’m sad. probably forever.

have mixed feelings about mythal but leaning toward not liking her but will need another play to determine.

i want morrigan and isabela to tag team me.

emmrich grew on me, shockingly? he and strife started a relationship, which was adorable, but i definitely saw strife get stabbed and he was totally fine later—is it because emmrich is a necromancer or… anyway emmrich sorry about ur lifelong dreams but manfred is my son.

i had so much fun with combat. i love the characters and story of dai but struggle so hard with the combat that i’ve only played it once. this combat was great, if a little chaotic. i still don’t know how to use everything. next time i’ll be cleaner.

anyway yes i WILL be playing again, i need to smooch all of the companions.

[sakurachan7734]

A very creative but very scary mind

( note anytime Lawrence says brothers or mother are mention I’m gonna put a V next to their name so you don’t get confused)

Chapter 2: sculpting

Max: no Sarah no eating the clay you can help me but you can’t eat it

Sarah: sorry

Max:* starts shaping the clay into a person* i might need to look at your eyes Sarah

Sarah:* shacks her head no*

Max: I know you don’t like it but I am going to put a bunch of eyes on this person and I can’t see my own

Sarah: fine

Max finish the body and starts the details 

Max Visconti(Lawrence’s younger brother): you should more clay to the legs

Max:* looks around* who said that?

Max:*looks behind you, but nobody was there* that’s weird 

Sarah all of a sudden runs to the wall and Sarah start clawing at it

Max:* gets up and picks up Sarah* hay hay stop that!!!

Sarah still trying to scratch the wall

Lawrence: what is she crying about?

Max: I don’t know she just started screaming

Lawrence:* takes Sarah from max* I will calm her down you can go back to whatever you were doing

Max: ok dad

Max sits back down at their desk and goes back to his sculpture

Max v: what the hell was that about? 

Max: who are you?

Max v: I am your uncle

Max: my uncle? Neither of my dads Have ever mentioned you

Max v: well clearly you’re father is still alive and is a weird corpse I would’ve said he must’ve forgotten about us but clearly he named all his children after my older brother and our mother

Max v then disappears 

Max: what the hell?

Lawrence: who were you talking to?

Max: some guy who claimed to be your younger bother

Lawrence: that’s…. weird

Max: how?

Lawrence: well the last time I saw him or any of my family was nearly 100 years ago he is probably dead by now 

Max: I meant I saw a ghost of your brother

Lawrence: he what did he look like? 

Max: fluffy red hair, brown eyes, his neck looked broken and his body looked like he was crushed by something

Lawrence:….alright let me know if you see him again

Max: ok dad

Max pov

I keep having a feeling I’m being watched by that ghost as I continue my little statue which is for my art class i’m surprised I haven’t been talked to about the type of art I make yet papa is kinda worried about the art I make but yet Papa is worried about everything doesn’t matter how many times we try to explain to him there’s no need to worry so much he will always find something to worry about and Jackson thinks that I should enter a art competition or show off my art to other people

A few hours later

Jackson: what are you making this time?

Max: a clay sculpture of a mutant woman

Jackson: did you just start it?

Max: yes

Jackson: how is it going?

Max: good but I heard a ghost

Jackson: the Same ghost I told you about?

Max: no a different one

Jackson: a different one? Is this house haunted or something?

Max: maybe

Jackson: once your done or almost done can I see?

Max: yes

Jackson: cool

A few weeks later

Max v: do you know how you are going to get that thing dried?

Max: I put it in the oven how else am I supposed to do it? 

Max v: no that’s the way

Max: how long have you been here?

Max v: we have been talking for five minutes

Max: no how long have you been in this house?

Max v: oh for about a year

Max: are there any other ghost?

Max v: my older brother and mother

Max: what are their names?

Max v: Sarah and Jackson

Max: oh cool

A couple hours later max is showing everyone their sculpture that he just finished

Lanky: that’s very good max what if it supposed to be?

Max: a human mixed with ant

Jackson: that’s weird

Max: that’s the point

Lawrence: do you have any room left in your room to put that?

Max: I don’t think so

Lanky: why don’t you put it in the living room?

Max: I thought you didn’t want me to keep my art in the living room

Lanky: it’s not because of what you make it’s because your sister might knock it over

Max: ok where do you want me to put it?

Lawrence: the fire place

Max: alright

End of story



[looking-cool-joker]

I watched half of Skinamarink and I have a lot to say on it.

Can’t understand what is happening or what they are saying

11:36 Scenes last for too long without ANYTHING happening

11:56: Things seem to just happen for no reason or any way to understand what is happening

12:50 whos Kevin?? I think I only saw one child, so if theres two, why didn’t you show both???

14:18 Dark scenes and Hallways the movie :/

15:44 Weird suspense doesn’t make a movie scary, you need more than that.

17:44 Is the dad dead or??? They don’t explain anything!!! I’m almost twenty minutes in, give me something!!!!!!

20:30 Are the lights going to suddenly turn off?

20:39 Kinda

21:07 I get they’re kids, but why is the dialogue so spaced out :((

22:20 this really is the movie huh. re: 14:18

23:23: SOUNDS DON’T MAKE A MOVIE SCARY OR ENTICING, ITS JUST SOUNDS, DARK ROOMS AND HALLWAYS THE MOVIE.

24:25 Oh yeah, also “Dad” the movie

24:58 Left for an hour because I was tired of this movie, the entire screen is black, what is happening.

25:43 I’m getting tired of lights suddenly turning off and revealing a dark hallway

25:52: oh look actual people, haven’t seen that in a while.

26:16 Theres just audio from the TV playing as people go in and out of a dark room. How is this scary? Or honestly just enjoyable?

27:19 You can tell this movie was made in eight days (derogatory)

28:08 Alright, I’m tired of the audio being too quiet/incoherent so thank god for subtitles, secondly, “Why is mom crying?” Well why does this movie not explain anything

It is so infuriating, I get having a loose story but come on??? This movie sucks so badly, why was this even made I hate every second of this, its just nothing.

29:21 LOUD NOISES DON’T MAKE A MOVIE SCARY OH MY GOD STOP BEING QUIET AND THEN BE SO LOUD ITS NOT SCARY ITS ANNOYING.

32:36 LMAO THE TOILET JUST APPEARED AND ITS SUPPOSED TO BE SCARY. This movie is making me lose my head.

32:40 Nvm its gone again

32:49 I may sound like a broken record but theres just, not enough happening to justify long scenes. Dialogue is sparse, which could be an okay thing, when you are looking at either a white wall or a pitch black room, its just so slow. Two minutes feel like an hour, and whats worse is that the story is so hard to understand, it doesn’t even feel like a story.

Its just kids saying “Dad” or Kevin repeating Kaylees name, which maybe they will actually say something of importance, but its just tiring.

32:55: STOP HAVING JUMPSCARES THEY JUST FAIL AT SCARING ME.

34:08 And I’m tired of the grain effect, and I hate the static, it’d be fine IF SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING TO DISTRACT ME FROM THE HEADACHE IM GETTING FROM HEARING IT

35:31 re: 32:55 and 29:21

38:20 dont you just love a dark room with someones legs being abled to be seen and thats just the scene, nothing more???

38:32 OH LOOKEE ANOTHER HALLWAY THATS DARK.

38:47 We all love a filtered voice :)

41:24 “I can’t see anything” Neither can I

43:33 I wish this was anything else, I would rather be watching Mandela Catalogue rn, at least its somewhat scary and I can parse whats happening.

45:56: It really isn’t a good sign that theres an hour of this movie left and I’m think about ditching it, this isn’t fun, this isn’t scary, this isn’t interesting. It sucks so badly, when I say I want to watch anything else I mean it. I WANT TO WATCH ALADDIN 2019 OVER THIS, THAT IS HOW BAD IT IS

47:20 re: 35:31

49:27 So whats with the dad, why should i care about the kids, why should I care about the mother. Why should I care about this movie? They don’t give me anything, stuff just happens, dad was there now hes not, kid fell down the stairs nvm he’s fine now, mom tells them to close their eyes she disappears.

What does it mean, I don’t think it means anything, I think this story is too vague, to a point where I don’t think there is one. Focusing on legos doesn’t help me parse anything. It doesn’t help. Looking at a TV playing old cartoons doesn’t give me anything, them moving a couch DOESNT GIVE ME ANYTHING.

I understand that abstract art is well.. Abstract, but this is just, pointless. There is no story, or at least they don’t want to show me the story, they want to show me kids calling out for their dad who may or may not be missing.

But thats the thing, I know nothing, BECAUSE THIS MOVIE TELLS ME NOTHING

The cinematography isn’t even good for crying out loud! Its boring, its the same five angles in different rooms. And again I’m tired of the static and the grain.

It feels like a worse P.T, but thats an insult to even compare it to a Hideo Kojima work.

51:41 This movie likes to pretend its building up suspense, but the suspense is “Whens the next loud noise” or possibly even “Whens the next the audio will cut out?” Its not scary, it’ll never be scary.

This is around half of the movie, It won’t get any better so I’ve heard and I hate it. I’m leaving it here. But I’ll watch the final scene

1:37:26 Finally they changed the color, instead of the color black its dark red, such an improvement :)

1:38:37 Pitch Black with a face in the static, vaguely creepy but, It just sucks because the rest sucks

1:38:45 “Go To Sleep” Shut up with your stupid Jeff The Killer cliches.

Final thoughts: Complete waste of my time and one of the worst movies I’ve watched. 0/10

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter LXXXII: Swimming With the Sharks

He pulled his sword out and Astraea fell to the floor. At the same time, I gave the wall another good whack and it finally started to crack, until it all shattered. Aion had began to walk away, as maybe there was an exit in the back, but as much as he shouldn’t have gotten away, something else was more important.

I fell to her side, dropped my hammer, and held her in my arms. She wasn’t heavy at all. It was like there was nothing to her anymore.

“Please. Please. I know you can get up. I know you can heal from this. I know you,” I cried and begged, but none of them had any effect. My tears fell onto her. I thought for a second they could have been magical and crying on her would wake her up. But it didn’t.

My breathing got fast and the tears got heavier. My face stretched and I was making sounds now, but not whole words. I just shook there.

This can’t happen. There has to be some miracle, something that would fix this.

“Get away from her,” Aion said in a low voice.

I turned and looked up at him. He was close to me, and he had his sword pointed at me. I let go of her and held onto my hammer. No matter what happened, I’d defend myself from him.

“I can’t promise you that thing is fully dead. For your own safety, get away,” he warned.

“Shut up! You’re the one who did this!” I yelled at him. He didn’t move from his spot.

“Move. I’m not afraid to kill a child. I’ve done it before.”

“Grr!” I growled at him and held my hammer tighter.

The others behind me were about to rush in and beat him up, but they stopped as soon as their weapons broke down into little tiny pieces.

“Wh...what?” Demetria looked down at her broken down switchblade knife that had fallen into bits of metal before fading away into dust.

The same happened with Remora’s pole, and Nemesis’s armor. Her sword, too.

“Oh, right. Now that the angel’s dead, your weapons are no more. Thought that would be obvious, but I guess not,” Aion shrugged. “Either way, there should be no more threats to humanity. You may hate me, may even think of me as evil, but at least the world is safe. Now --”

He got punched in the face. At first I thought it was Nemesis, but no: it was Ray.

“Hey! What gives, Ray?!” Aion rubbed his cheek, “that actually kinda hurt.”

“Do you have any idea what you did?! My daughter’s a wreck because of you! That was her best friend!”

“I told you this play wasn’t child friendly! What were YOU thinking?!” Aion shouted back.

My face was wet and my mouth felt queasy. Like I was about to throw up everywhere. Worse, there was a shaking feeling.

The shaking was on the outside. I opened my eyes, still blurred out from the tears, and Astrea’s head, it leaned back before its mouth opened wide.

“Astraea?” I asked.

Out from her mouth shot out a long, black vine that went higher and higher and broke through the ceiling. More vines formed from within the vines until it was thicker, almost like tree bark. Like a tree was about to take root.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Aion said while looking up. I got a good look at him and he looked really surprised. His mouth hung low. He adjusted his suit and began to take a few steps back. “Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

Before he got on that stage and behind that curtain, a vine fell over him and squished him. I couldn’t believe it, and the vine that fell spread out until it looked like it was burrowing into the ground and taking root.

Ray pulled me up by the back of my collar.

“We have to go!” He shouted.

“But Astraea!”

“I know,” he shook his head and frowned.

He carried me away in his arms as we all ran out. I waved my hands behind him and wanted to reach for Astraea, but I was too far. I kept crying on the way back, even as everything fell behind us. All the pillars, all the bricks, they all fell and the sky outside was poking in.

A few days later:

It’s been weird. I haven’t eaten much. Hecate has made me some soup. Others have tried to make food for me, too. I just don’t feel good when I try to eat.

When we first came back home from that awful place, we were all shaken and looked bad. I had some of Astraea’s blood on my denim overalls and my tie-dye shirt underneath. Things got weird right away.

“What was that tree thing?” Nemesis asked. “And where did my armor go?”

“It came out of Astraea,” I said, even though I wanted to be quiet.

“Astraea? Who’s that?”

“My best friend! She just died!” I shouted at her and tears filled my face again.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

I ran off into my room. She didn’t try to follow.

Over the next couple of days, people would see me in a bad mood and ask what was wrong. I told them that it was obvious and that Astraea died, so of course I’d be sad, but they would only ask who she was or be confused. Not just Nemesis or Hecate or Proserpina or Calen or Cael, but people who should have known her.

“Don’t know who that is, sorry,” Demetria said.

“You know her! You met her! You’ve been suspicious of her this whole time and Aion killed her!”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that,” she squinted and crossed her arms, “he seems like a bad guy. Just the vibe I get.”

“But don’t you know why?”

“Yeah. He, uh. We were all there. You were upset and Ray said we needed to go to Khaldaia, and then he was there and…”

“And?”

She scrunched up her face and put her hand on her head.

“I don’t know! I know it was something, okay?”

She walked away and she looked frustrated.

Then, there was the same with Remora:

“Have you talked about Astraea before? I don’t recall.”

“Yes! She died! Why are you doing this?” I thought maybe they were all joking around. But no, Remora looked confused, and more so than her usual confused look.

“Who was she?”

“My friend! She was...um...an angel, I guess.”

Remora leaned back in her seat and looked worried.

“What kind of angel do you mean?”

“You should know this! Those spooky outer space things!”

“But...if that’s possible...then she’s not dead, and we have much worse things to worry about.”

“No! Stop that!”

Not even Ray was any help. And he should have known, right? He was there. He pulled me out to safety. But he was no good too:

“Do you remember a few days ago when we left that golden place?” I asked him. He wasn’t at his usual desk. He was upstairs, way upstairs, in the bedroom. My heart shook. I was already expecting to be let down.

“Yeah. It collapsed. I was so scared I’d lose you,” he sat at the edge of his bed. He looked worn out. “I still don’t know what happened to Sunny or if I’ll ever see her again. This whole thing has been out of my control. I should have never let him in.”

“You lost Sunny and I lost Astraea.”

“You lost someone too?” He asked.

There it was. He forgot too. Even though he was there. Next to me. He said he knew when he left, didn’t he? So why wasn’t he acting like he knew now?

I wanted to yell at him, but I didn’t, and I just nodded while tears filled my eyes.

“Yeah.”

I remember him hugging me. I don’t think it really helped.

Everyone forgot about her. At first I thought it was a mean prank, but no one seemed to ever say, “just kidding,” and besides, it would have been really mean to do so anyway. But it was also mean to forget, wasn’t it? And if they all forgot…

...why didn’t I?

After a while, I stopped bringing her up.

The others could still tell something was wrong and that I felt bad, so I just made things up whenever they did. Like, “grandma got sick and I want her to get better,” or if I wanted to be more honest, I’d say, “I miss Sunny.” Everyone remembered Sunny, and I really did miss her. But I was the only one who missed Sunny and Astraea.

If I thought things would get any better at home, they didn’t.

First, there was the flight. Cybele was nice enough. I couldn’t remember if she ever met Astraea, but I know she’d forget anyway, so I didn’t bring her up. Still, as we went up in the sky, I saw that series of vines, I saw the tree going higher and higher into the sky, with many branches stretching out. Maybe eventually they would block out the clouds, and the sun, and…

I didn’t know what it was, but I could tell Aion was wrong about something: he didn’t kill an angel, he just took away my friend.

He might have died too. One of those things fell on him, after all. That part was weird, too, because if he knew all that about her, shouldn’t he have known that something like that would happen? I would have said that it was good that he died and that it was revenge and that we were even now, but we weren’t. She still died and he got to get away.

At home, grandma and grandpa were happy to see me. So was Fetch. He wagged his tail and licked me. That didn’t make me happy.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Grandma asked me.

“Is Astraea here?” I asked. I should have known better. No one back at the other home remembered her.

“Who?”

“My sister. My friend. Is she in my room?”

“Hun. You’re the only one who lives here. That’s how it’s always been.”

I knew that wasn’t true. But nobody else could figure it out.

I ran into my room, only to find that she wasn’t there: her clothes were there, some in the laundry basket, some on the floor. There was clothes of hers in the dresser drawer. The blankets, the plushie, the video game thing, they were all on the bottom bunk of the bed. Nothing was changed from when I left. Except that she wasn’t there to greet me.

“Astraea! Where are you?” I shouted.

Grandma and grandpa came running in.

“Oh, what’s all the fuss? Everything OK?” Grandpa asked.

“This bunk bed!” I pointed up. “Why do we have it if I’m the only kid here?”

I know I must have looked mad, and it did make me really mad that no one seemed to remember. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t that the least anyone could do? To just remember. But I wasn’t just mad, I didn’t want to give up. I thought if I tried hard enough, maybe someone could remember.

“It’s just something we have,” he said and looked confused.

“But we don’t have it for no reason! You built it, remember?”

Grandpa looked at grandma.

“Did I? I thought for sure we bought it at the store.”

“I don’t remember going to the store for it, or you bringing it home,” grandma corrected, “maybe we just always had it.”

I stomped my foot.

“Hey. There’s no reason for that,” grandpa waved his hand out and gave a nervous laugh.

“It was a single bed! You added another bed to it so Astraea wouldn’t sleep on the floor! There was me and there was Astraea! You let her live here with me even though you didn’t know her because you knew how important she was to me!”

“Are you making things up again?” Grandma smiled. It was so rude.

“No! I’m not!”

“We wouldn’t just let someone we didn’t know live here. That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” grandma shook her head.

“But you did!” I cried. “you liked her too, didn’t you? She may have been weird, but she was nice, too!”

“I just...I don’t know,” grandma scratched her head.

“I guess it would explain the bunk bed, but…” Grandpa sounded concerned, too.

It was useless. I ran past them and out of the house. They tried to grab me but I was too strong and too fast. I went out into the back yard and fell into the grass and cried.

Grandma and grandpa didn’t try to follow me out.

But something nudged against me. A poke?

“Is that you...Astraea?” I asked, and looked over.

But instead, I got a lick on my cheek and saw Fetch.

“Oh. It’s just you, Fetch. I bet you don’t remember her, either. I don’t think you two were very close.”

I sat up, my knees folded, and I looked down. I wouldn’t stop crying even if no one else remembered.

Fetch put his face in my lap and closed his eyes. I knew it didn’t help, but I petted the top of his head anyway.

I laughed a little.

“I can’t believe I thought you were Astraea,” I wiped away tears from my face. “I guess I keep expecting her to be around even though I saw her die. She had a lot of powers, so that’s weird, too. Shouldn’t she have been able to stop it? I know I’m mad at that Aion guy, but I’m mad at her, too. Why would she let that happen? Why would…”

I stopped petting him.

“I don’t know what’s worse: that I still remember her and expect her to show up again or that everyone else has forgotten her as if she never existed.”

Of course, the weirdness didn’t end there. It only started there.

At school, no one else remembered her. But it also wasn’t like they forgot her, either.

“Ready to fight after school?” Hammond ran up to me and put his fist in his palm. Rhubarb was right behind him and caught him in a headlock.

“I think I’m going to skip wrestling club today,” I told them.

“What? Why?”

“Because…” I wasn’t going to make the same mistake as before. I could make something up, though. “Because I want to spend time with my sister.”

“Oh, yeah. Ashley, right?”

What? Ashley?

“Really? I thought her name was Alexa,” Rhubarb said.

“No. I clearly remember. We were at her place once. It’s Asher!”

“Neither of you have been to my house,” I shook my head.

“Really? Huh.”

That was more than forgetting, wasn’t it? Well, I tried to forget about it, and maybe they were just being weird for other reasons, but when I went to class, I noticed there was an empty seat in the back. The teacher called everyone’s names.

“Tigershark?” The teacher asked.

“Here,” I said.

“Azzzzzzzt,” her mouth made little static noises and it looked for a moment like wires hung from the teacher’s mouth.

I looked over to the empty desk, but it wasn’t all empty. It looked like little bits of static were jumping around and lots of rectangles danced about in different colors. I thought I could see the outline of something, but…

“Okay, class! Pay attention! We have many lessons to get to!” The teacher clapped. I looked back at the teacher, and there were no wires in her mouth. I raised my hand.

“Yes?”

“Who’s name did you call after mine?”

“What do you mean? Yours was the last name I called.”

“Oh. Right,” I lowered my hand.

But it wasn’t. I heard something.

I tried to think of other things. Other weird stuff happened over the next couple of days, but the first day back at school was the worst. Everyone forgot after that.

I should have too. It was easier to forget, right? But I didn’t want to.

See, everyone else lost their weapons, but I kept my hammer. Why? Astraea gave it to me, just like all those other weapons came from her. And they were all gone. Maybe mine didn’t have magical powers, but shouldn’t it have broken down?

Well, okay. Not weird enough.

I don’t think the world wanted to forget, either.

The tree thing that was left back at the arctic grew bigger and I only knew because I saw it even from grandma and grandpa’s house. It was getting wider, and yet it didn’t block the sky at all. The tree was dark green, but sometimes it was brown and sometimes it was red. It didn’t have leaves. Sometimes the tree got blue and purple. Branches grew off from each other. Sometimes the roots slammed down.

Little cracks in the ground formed. I thought I would get sucked in, but I didn’t. Grass grew over the cracks, but sometimes it didn’t and instead flame would shoot out. But the fire turned to ice as soon as it got in the sky.

I saw all this in my front and backyard.

I don’t know how I could see so far away and that the ground shook sometimes was scary, but I ended up not being hurt. It looked like everything was being split into many pieces. It looked like it was hurting itself in its confusion.

I went into my room and saw the note that I left on the bottom bunk. It was still there. Grandma and grandpa never touched it and I forgot all about it. But it was still there.

Some friend I am. I forgot about something as important as that.

I picked up the note. Maybe the words were different because everyone else was weird and forgetting she exists, so maybe the words did too? But no, it was the same:

“Sorry we didn’t get to say bye to each other this morning. I was surprised when I saw you sleeping but I didn’t want to wake you. Maybe we can call each other sometime this week? I know how moody you get when I rush out the door, and I like to say bye to you too. Ok bye now.”

Big, wet teardrops fell onto the note and I shut my eyes tight. The ink smeared and didn’t look readable anymore. So what did I do? I crumpled the note and shoved it in my pocket.

That note didn’t say her name on it, but I knew it was for her.

Stupid note. Stupid me. I should have written more. There was a lot I should have said, but even if I said all those things, she still wouldn’t hear them.

Why would she let herself get killed like that? No, I know it was that guy’s fault, but still. She must have sensed him. She must have known that someone would want to kill her. So if she did, why did she still get killed?

I was starting to get really mad. Not that I wasn’t already mad whenever I thought about how others had forgotten her. No, this was different. This was weird, my own weird.

I stomped out the house. Grandma stopped me before I made it outside.

“I know you’re upset about something, but please don’t stomp in the house.”

I looked up at her. Yes, I probably looked really mean and angry, but I knew it wasn’t her fault. It was whatever it was that made her forget.

“Sorry. I just need to go outside for a bit,” I told her.

She looked kinda sad, but nodded.

“Yeah. Just make sure to come back inside for dinner.”

I had a marker in my pocket, along with the note. I already knew what I had to do, because if no one else would do it, I sure as hell would.

Grandpa saw me stomping my way to the far end of the yard. He had been outside with his straw hat and sundress and was pruning some of the bushes.

“What’s the rush, honey?” He asked.

“I need a big rock and a stick. And some tape.”

“This an art project?”

“Something like that,” I grunted.

I already knew there was a big rock at the far end of the yard, tucked in a corner and next to our wood fence. We had a big yard, but it didn’t take that long to walk through.

The front door squeaked open. I waited to get to work until grandpa came by with the supplies, and from the corner of my eye, I saw grandpa.

He bent down and dropped a stick and a roll of clear tape.

“What’s all this for?” He asked.

“I’m remembering someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. A friend at school died.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“Most didn’t.”

“Well,” he gave me a pat on the back, “I understand things like this are hard. Take all the time you need. If you stay out past dinner, we’ll save you a plate.”

“Thanks, grandpa, but this won’t take long.”

He walked away and I got to work:

First, I broke the stick into two pieces.

Second, I taped the smaller piece to the top of the bigger piece until it looked like it made a ‘t’ shape.

Third, I set the ‘t’ stick on the rock and taped it over, and then in my other hand took the note and spread it out over the stick. The wind blew it away, but the stick (and my hand) held it in place. So I taped the corners of the note against the rock.

Fourth, I got my marker and wrote down over the sheet of paper and the stick, near the top of the rock:

“ASTRAEA”

Yeah, maybe some of the letters were all squiggly and sloppy, but it was the thought that counts. All I needed was her name, anyway. That way, even if the rain got the paper all wet and I couldn’t read the note anymore, the name would still be there and all I had to do was read the name and all the words of the note would come back to me. And maybe other words, too.

There actually wasn’t any rain at the moment. It was very sunny.

Oh. I miss her too.

But it was also bright, and that I think made me feel like I should have been happy. Like I did a good thing and I could be happy again. But if that was really supposed to work, I must have had some magical powers that made it not work, because I started crying really hard again.

“I miss you. Every day. I’m so sorry. I should have spent more time with you. Maybe if I slept hugging you, that would have saved you. I don’t know what to do. Maybe you wanted to go and you didn’t want to worry me? But I should have been able to hear you. All I know is that you’re gone.”

I cried harder and my head was against the rock and the tears probably got the note all wet.

“I know you’re gone. But that doesn’t matter because to me you still exist. You should exist! Even if the world or everyone else doesn’t want you to, I do!”

My arms were now over my head, because it was hard putting my forehead on a rock.

“I’m hurting. The world is hurting. Please come back, Astraea. If you’re out there in the stars, or if you’re up top that big tree thing, please hear me. My angel.”

I think I got all my tears out because I wasn’t crying as hard. I didn’t have trouble breathing, either. I stood up.

Nothing was different.

Not that I expected anything to be. It was just a wish I had. I know she wasn’t a genie. Could a dead genie grant a wish? I guess it depended on how genies worked. I never met one.

When I opened the front door, the wood inside kept appearing and going away. The inside looked like what I imagined a burned down building looked like: everywhere was just black outlines and sometimes solid, but also very black. Everywhere that had stuff like table, TV, couch, walls, still existed, just that sometimes they blinked out and they were always black like coal.

Grandma walked through the kitchen which kept changing shapes and walls kept moving around. She had a casserole dish in her hand and it looked like a pot pie, or maybe a fruit pie? But then a bowl of macaroni. Then a meatloaf.

“Astrid!” She called out.

“Astrid?” I took a step in and asked.

“There you are, darling,” grandma looked at me and she looked the same, except when parts of her went invisible. “Can you tell your sister, Aurelia, that it’s time to eat?”

“My…” I couldn’t get other words out. Instead, my eyes turned to the hallway where there was a blog moving about and it looked like TV static. A mouth or a black nothingness opened wide in the blob, and then I saw the same thing with grandma.

It startled me so bad I took a step back and fell over onto the porch.

“Honey? Are you okay?” It was grandma’s voice. I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to see the house, or that blob.

But she looked down and I looked up and grandma was her normal big self with her big poofy hair and her pink flower printed blouse and apron.

“Sorry! I tripped,” I blinked a few times. She was grandma, all right. “Is dinner ready?”

“No, not yet. Still working on it. Why, are you hungry?”

“A little.”

I lied. I wasn’t hungry at all. Not even a little. But I knew she must have put a lot of work into whatever she cooked. I just hoped that she would stay real long enough for us to enjoy a meal.

I crawled back from where I was sitting and grandma shut the door behind me.

When I got up and turned around, Astraea was there.

I gasped and almost fell back down. That would have been bad!

I blinked. A lot.

She was still there each time.

She couldn’t have been there, especially not after everyone forgot about her, but there was that messy, long white hair, and her white dress with little frills and strings and even a gray cloak over her. Like how she looked when I first met her.

The only difference was that she was floating. Her feet didn’t touch the ground.

“Astraea? Is that really you?” I asked. I wanted to cry but I also wanted to smile wide. But was it real?

She tilted her head.

“Can you say anything? Are you cursed not to talk?”

Her head got lower. Almost like it was going to fall off.

“I was called here. Why?” She said and almost sounded the same as Astraea, echo and all. Except the echoes went on as if every word was said at least four times, and each time her words echoed, they sounded like different voices. Some low and some high.

It didn’t sound right. I don’t know why, but she sounded like she should have had one voice, even if it echoed.

“I...I missed you! You died and everyone forgot about you, but I didn’t!”

She shook her head, which still hung low but it looked like there was another head up top. Her head hung low also made me think of a clock ticking, or a pendulum.

“I cannot die. I also wasn’t forgotten, because I shouldn’t be known unless I allow myself to be known. Also, you never knew me.”

It was my turn to be confused.

“What do you mean? We’re best friends! We’re sisters! We pinky promise things!”

Her face didn’t change except her white eyebrows got low.

“Why would I be friends with a human? Humans are but a speck upon a speck. Compared to me, you’re not even an ant, not even a grain of sand. But something much smaller than that, something much less significant.”

“But you still found us interesting! Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t need to remember anything. I know all that I have ever known. If I forgot about you, that must mean that you were never worth remembering.”

I wanted to get mad. This Astraea was all weird, too. But maybe she even forgot about herself?

“If you’re not Astraea, why are you in that form?”

She didn’t talk at first. She held out her palms and looked down. When she looked up and back at me (and there was only one head this time) her face looked like it was frozen shut. But she opened it to say:

“Why am I...small?” She asked herself, or me. “To degrade myself down to your size. It makes no sense.”

“It must be because you wanted to see me again!”

She turned around and saw the big tree that was all the way up in the arctic and looked like it was getting bigger.

“That is the rest of me. But why is it there and not among the stars? Why would I be down here? And there must be some reason that I appeared before you. Something must have gone wrong.”

She turned back to me and looked like she wanted me to tell her something. So I did.

“Maybe if you remember, you’ll know what happened?” I guessed. “Maybe I can help you remember!”

I was happy to help her remember, too. I decided not to tell her about Aion yet as that might have just gave her bad memories. So I wouldn’t tell her how she died or anything like that. Just the stuff that mattered.

“It appears there are gaps in my memory. I will follow you for now,” she said.

“Great! I’ll show you around!”

I opened the door. Grandpa was laying on the couch and taking a nap.

“This is grandpa. He likes to garden and sometimes he even builds things.”

Astraea didn’t say anything to that.

I walked over to the kitchen. Grandma was next to the stove and heating up a pot of green beans.

“This is grandma. She likes to cook and dance and watch weird TV shows like Naturally Super.”

“Are you talking to someone, dear?” Grandma turned and asked. She smiled and her smile got wider when she saw me smiling. Grandma didn’t see Astraea next to me, which was weird, but not as weird as the other things have been.

“Yeah! My imaginary friend! I just made her up! Her name’s Astraea!” I said without thinking. If everyone forgot her, was it so bad?

“Imaginary friend, but she’s your...imaginary friend, yes.”

It seemed like grandma was close to remembering. That was good, but she didn’t remember all the way.

“We’ll let her cook for now,” I pointed out into the hallway. “I gotta show you our room.”

Astraea still didn’t talk and only floated behind me.

When we got into our room, I pointed at the bunk bed first.

“This bottom bunk is yours. I sleep on the top bunk. Sometimes, we have shared the same bed, but we don’t always. I think I should sleep with you more just to keep you safe!”

My heartbeat got faster. It was maybe a bad idea to suggest she needed to be kept safe. If she asked why she needed to be, what could I say?

I crawled onto the bottom bunk and grabbed the Sothis plushie.

“This is yours. You really like her.”

I went under the pillow and found her Nintendo Switch.

“This is what you play video games on. Sometimes you play too much and don’t do your homework.”

I got off the bed and went over to the dresser. I opened up some drawers.

“Your clothes are in here. Some of these clothes are mine, but not all of them.”

There wasn’t anything else to show her in the room so I walked out. We were going to go back outside, but then I saw Fetch stretched out and sleeping under the dining room table.

“This is Fetch, by the way. He’s our doggy. He’s really big and strong and likes to run around a lot. You don’t like to take him on walks much.”

We were back outside now and the sun was really bright. I thought I did a good job and smiled wide, but when she floated around me, I noticed that she bumped into the hinges of the door and there must have been a piece of wood sticking out, because when she stood in front of me, there was a cut on her bare arm. Also, her cloak wasn’t on her anymore.

“Astraea! You got a cut! I’ll get a bandage and…”

She looked down at her arm where the cut was. It wasn’t very deep, but it was red.

“How? Nothing should hurt me. I should not feel pain. Not even something as little as this.”

“I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

Her face looked angry now. She came closer to me and put her hands on her shoulders and shook me.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!” She demanded and the whole house behind us shook. It looked like it was about to collapse, and then...it was split in half.

I didn’t know if grandma or grandpa or Fetch were okay, only that the house was split down the middle and fell over. Even if they were okay, I didn’t know if we could live there any more. I wanted to go to them, but this Astraea held on tight.

“I didn’t do anything, Astraea! I swear!”

“Wrong...that’s not my name! I have no need for a name! The only thing you have proven to me is that there must indeed be gaps in my memory! I have to figure this out!”

She disappeared. Didn’t float, either. Just went away. I thought I wouldn’t see her again, but she was there not even a couple seconds later.

“I see now,” she said without waiting for me to tell her anything. I felt really worried and swallowed spit. This Astraea was scarier than I remembered.

“Did you find out what happened?” I asked.

“Yes. I awakened incomplete, with a piece of me missing.”

“What about Astraea?”

“There is no Astraea! That was only a work of fiction. Now I exist, and once I find my missing piece, I will do with this world as I please!”

Her face was a wide grin and it looked really mean. She flew before I could say anything else to her.

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t know what the house would look like when I did, but I knew I wasn’t ready. Fetch walked beside me and sat next to me. I asked something, even though I knew Fetch wouldn’t say anything back:

“What did I do?”

[scrumptious-delusion]

OK, a lot of this reblog is me just reacting to sentences, and it kinda ran away from me in length 😳

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS DO IT NOW!!!

first:

After all, you used to have mutual friends, and you saved earth together that one time.

“that one time” so casual, i love it.

second:

Sam held up three fingers with a sly smirk; Bucky ended up rolling his eyes.

WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?? I DEMAND TO KNOW!! (please 👉👈)

third:

It’s your eighth time in the loop.

EIGHTH?!?! MY POOR BABY 😭😭

fourth:

Doesn’t matter. Bucky gets stabbed this time, which is even worse to watch. It’s slower, too. “Hey,” he manages to get out, a small trickle of blood in the corner of his pained smile. “Don’ worry, doll, I’ll be fine.”

iris by the goo goo dolls came on while i reading this part, and when i tell you i was EMOTIONALLY ATTACKED

fifth:

“What was that about?” you wonder aloud, readjusting the intercom in your ear. Bucky’s jaw is set again, an annoyed flush covering his cheeks. “Get going, Twelve,” he says and turns his back on you.

YES, WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT HMMM?? 👁👁

sixth:

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, trembling. You smash every single item in your room to pieces. They don’t stay broken.

if i thought reading bucky die while listening to iris hurt it honestly had nothing on reading this. my poor, poor baby, i can’t imagine how hopeless and angry and tired i would feel.

seventh: YES SHE TOLD THEM ABOUT THE TIME LOOP!! (sam’s hug btw 🥺🥺) the whole bucky taking her to get a coffee scene was just *pounds fist against table lovingly* ahhhhhh

“That’s not for you.” He smirks and puts the cap back on the sharpie. “Now keep that safe, would ya?”

eighth:

“Crazy?” His expression hardens somewhat, and an irritated flush appears on his cheeks. “Why is it crazy?”

OK HE CLEARLY THOUGHT SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE, THE QUESTION IS WHAT???

ninth: imma need you to stop writing beautiful sentences like this -

Now, they’re blue like the ocean and just as alive. You hate that they’ve ever looked anything but.

tenth:

It doesn’t tell you a whole lot to google it, only makes you frown at your laptop. Tell her.

YOU KNOW WHAT I’M HOPING IT IS HE WANTS TO SAY, RIGHT?

eleventh: her side mission of discovering what coffee bucky likes is so 🥺🥺 THE MED BAY SCENE WHERE BUCKY TENDS TO HER AND THEN THEY HOLD HANDS 😭😍😩🙏🙌

twelfth (👀):

Your tears fell in the quiet of a standing universe, unexpected and angry, with no one there to witness them.

reader using her ability to stop time for things like that - to cry and compose herself... it’s so sad? i mean of course she wouldn’t wanna cry in front of randoms but like... it made me realise how lonely she must be ?? has she spent her whole life just breaking down in frozen moments of time, or breaking down and then having an emotionless re-do ?? the people in front of her just having no clue ?? 😭😭

overall: love love love this series so much, cannot wait to keep reading.

time after time [3]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 10.1k 💀

chapter warnings: one last reminder to internalize the premise of the fic, i will just assume you know what’s up from this point on; canon-typical violence; mention of alcohol; some more permanent damage; even more banter

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: this chapter has had me in a chokehold for two weeks and i ended up switching some stuff around. the fun never ceases. thanks to all of you for being patient with me, and a particular shoutout to @daisyprouvaire for making this just a bit sadder than i'd anticipated <3

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

three: every day's a holiday

Tony Stark might have sold the Tower back before the Snap, but he’d kept the two topmost levels installed for what was then still the Avengers to stay in if needed. Now, though, you were the only one actually living here while the few people that were left of the team could theoretically use the empty bedrooms while the Compound was being rebuilt.

No one ever did stop by.

It wasn’t meant to be a permanent solution when Happy had offered you a keycard, but it’d been months and no one had kicked you out yet, so you hadn’t really tried to move on. Besides, not a whole lot of people knew about it, which was a plus; and where else in New York City could you get an apartment that gave you this view and also paid for itself?

Still, it felt weird for you to be back in the city. Back in their old space.

Before the Compound, it’d been years since you’d had your own proper place, and while your room there had felt somewhat like home, you’d never really settled.

You went back only once when you got released from the hospital, collecting bits and pieces from the rubble, rescuing whatever little knick-knacks from the past five years you could find; a couple of pictures and trinkets, some books, a battered-up box, a hoodie with ripped seams.

Reminders of what you’d lost and what you didn’t want to return to.

And then, it was this.

Tidying up the dust bunnies no one had bothered with since the move to the Compound, trying to order groceries with expired credit cards, getting a job at the Starbucks downstairs so you didn’t have to ask Pepper for anything else. It wasn’t exactly a glamorous life for a former Avenger, but at least no one recognized you on your own and without the cape. You never cared for it much, anyway. So tacky.

You’d always been good at blending in with normal people. Even if it took another try or two sometimes. It was a quiet life, but you weren’t mad about that fact, you told yourself. You needed it. You deserved it.

You were fine with being useless again.

Of course, the day you decided to switch things up a little and go for that new show Netflix had been promoting incessantly, the universe was done with your laissez-faire style of living. Like a pesky little voice of conscience.

And on your day off, no less.

“You that time witch Steve told me about?”

You turned around apprehensively to find Sam Wilson standing in your kitchen area. He looked different sans wings and glasses, you thought, but no less imposing. Particularly with that raised eyebrow.

“Depends,” you answered, putting down your bowl of chips and giving him a once-over. He was apparently unarmed, but had no right to look this handsome in sweatpants, your brain supplied helpfully. You supposed it was his best attempt to look casual. “You that smartass he told me about?”

You hadn’t officially met, but you knew of each other, of course. After all, you used to have mutual friends, and you saved earth together that one time.

He’d been on the news just the other week, too, giving his little speech to the GRC; you’d been pretty impressed, to be honest. Even had FRIDAY play the “Star-Spangled Man With A Plan” remix to celebrate.

Today, you really weren’t in the mood, though. You just wanted to get back on your couch, watch some reruns and forget about the world at large and its stupid problems. You had enough of the fighting, and you had enough of heroes.

Though, if you had unexpected company, at least you were wearing your nice pajamas.

Sam smiled mischievously. “Care for a demonstration?”

Before you could even take a breath to answer, he grabbed an empty mug from the drainer and smashed it on the floor next to you.

You glared at him in disbelief. “Seriously?!”

Sam cocked his head in a your move kind of way. You raised your hands with a huff of annoyance.

“You that time witch Steve told me about?”

“Depends,” you said, slamming down the bowl of chips on the kitchen counter. “You that damn smartass he told me about?”

“Care for a demonstration?”

“Ah-ah-ah.” You wrangled the mug out of his hands before he had the chance to move, barely resisting the urge to kick his shin for good measure. “You people have a real problem with throwing things, you know that? This isn’t a ball field.” You carefully placed the mug back in its place on the rack, hoping to slow down your heartbeat with a few deep breaths.

“I might have a job for you,” Sam said, clearly amused.

You sighed. Of course this wasn’t just a random visit from your friendly neighborhood Captain America. “I don’t really do the hero stuff anymore.”

“Must be nice.” Sam leaned against the counter, stealing a couple of chips from your bowl. “You know, if you wanna lay low, you might’ve tried for a less fancy hideout.”

“I’m not hiding,” you lied. Sam raised his eyebrow again; it reminded you of Steve. “Just because I don’t go around announcing myself to the world in a shiny suit doesn’t mean I’m hiding.”

“Right. And how’s that treating you?”

You were processing, is what your therapist would have said. Getting to terms with everything that had happened. Finding your place in this confusing new world.

On the other hand, she didn’t know that you had quite literally seen every single thing online streaming services had to offer thanks to having your powers, lingering depression, and no real close friends left. A truly winning combination.

But that was none of the new Captain America’s business, no matter how attentively he was watching you.

“Who else knows about me?” you changed the subject. You didn’t want to have to leave the Tower, you realized suddenly. You didn’t want to have to pack up and leave, again.

You were so tired of losing things.

“No one. Barnes’ll have to, if you agree to do the job.”

“Great.” You rubbed your temples, adjusting the list of people in your mind. It’d gotten to the point of being disconcertingly long, once, but at least the damn wizards seemed to continue to be in the dark. And with the stone gone, they still wouldn’t know to look for you.

Almost without noticing, you reached for the pendant around your neck, thinking.

You had to admit, you’d been bored out of your mind these past few weeks. You could at least spare a few minutes to listen to him. Get your mind occupied again. It didn’t mean you had to get back out there, right?

“What kind of job are we talking?”

If Sam noticed your begrudging interest, he didn’t comment on it. “Have you heard of ULTIMATUM?” he asked.

“Is this one?”

“No. They call themselves the Underground Liberated Totally Integrated Mobile Army To Unite Mankind, and don’t make me say that again because it’s way too long.”

“Sounds like an acronym Tony would come up with.” You made your way to the espresso maker with a sigh. “Do you drink coffee?”

You hadn’t expected to time jump today and the fatigue was already settling in your bones. If he wanted you to sit through an impromptu meeting, you’d need caffeine.

“Make that three cups,” Sam said.

“Upstairs is all clear,” another voice called from the hall, right on cue. A moment later, Bucky Barnes strode into the room, hands in the pockets of his jacket. He’d cut his hair since the last time you’d seen him, you noticed. It suited him annoyingly well.

“Wonderful,” you said sarcastically. “Anyone else in my home that I should know about, FRIDAY? We talked about this, you know.”

“You said to keep out all Masters of the Mystic Arts, robbers, axe murderers, extraterrestrials, insane robots and other threats to humanity, end quote,” FRIDAY told you pleasantly. “Captain Wilson and Sergeant Barnes do not fall on that spectrum. Do you want me to add them?”

“Maybe later,” you said, glancing at the pair. An entire conversation seemed to pass between the two of them without either saying a single word. Sam held up three fingers with a sly smirk; Bucky ended up rolling his eyes.

“That her then?” he asked, clearly unimpressed with your polkadot bottoms.

“That me then.” You smiled sweetly at him. “Disappointed?”

He ignored the question, but the way he looked at you and then crossed his arms made you decide to put salt in his coffee. “I still don’t see why we need her. It’s not like we haven’t done this sort of thing before, just the two of us.”

“You didn’t see me complaining when you decided to help a psycho escape prison because you thought he could help us out,” Sam said.

“He did help, and you did complain. Non-stop.”

“Because it was a stupid-ass move. I’m choosing allies from now on.”

“That’s assuming I agree,” you interrupted their little bickering session. You’d definitely circle back to the prison break at a later point. “Which is unlikely unless someone finally tells me why the hell you broke in here in the first place.”

“Not breaking in when you have a working key,” Sam said. “If your idea of security is not changing any of the passwords Stark came up with around 2015, you have bigger problems than us.”

“Oh, the lectures do come with the shield,” you muttered, measuring ground coffee into the machine. “Apparently you have bigger problems, too, or you wouldn’t be here,” you said over your shoulder.

“Possibly,” Sam agreed and shook the crumbs at the bottom of the chips bowl into his hand. “Do you have more of these? I haven’t eaten all day.”

“How,” you said, because it was almost 4 p.m.

“I don’t know,” Sam answered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “This morning my fridge was just emptier than I remembered it being last night.”

You turned and barely caught the last wisp of a grin tugging at Bucky’s lips before his face turned stony again. So he did have more than the one expression. That was intriguing.

“Fine,” you decided, “coffee and leftovers in the meeting room in five, but you gotta carry some of this stuff. And I swear,” you told Bucky, “if you start smashing things, too, I’m kicking both of you out.”

Bucky took his time looking you up and down so slowly that you swore you could feel his gaze on every inch of your body. It was slightly upsetting and incredibly infuriating. Finally, he let his eyes meet yours. They were an oddly bright blue.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You rolled your eyes as you marched past him and ignored the shiver running down your spine.

*****

You’re trying. You really are.

“Can you stop that?” Bucky tells you with a pointed look.

You do stop bouncing your leg. Instead, you start drumming your fingers against the metal part of your seat, the rhythm giving you something to focus on. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap—

“For crying out loud, could you just sit still for five minutes?”

“Nope,” you say, giving him a humorless smile through gritted teeth. Bucky rolls his eyes.

That’s good, you think, starting to tap your foot again. If he’s angry with you, he’s not dead yet, and if he’s not dead, well, that’s a good thing.

It doesn’t need to make sense. Nothing makes sense anyway.

Geez, you have to get out of here.

It’s your eighth time in the loop. You have been through this day eight times, and not one single time were you able to save him.

Nor have your powers deemed you worthy of even the slightest hitch, of even the tiniest glimmer of control flowing through you. No matter how the day goes, no matter what you do, you always go on that mission, Bucky always dies, and you wake up in your bed, drenched in sweat and soot and blood, and dry-heaving by the time you make it to the bathroom.

The butterfly effect has always terrified you, but right now, on an endless day like this one, it might be your only chance to change anything. So you’ve gone against all your instincts, and you’ve tried. Oh, you’ve tried.

“Can’t we do this mission tomorrow?” you ask on day five.

“Nope,” Sam says, because how could he know? “Get changed, lazy ass, I’d like to be back in time for the fireworks.”

You’re back in time for your alarm.

Okay, you think, maybe it’s the timing of it all. Maybe you’re just off by ten minutes or so in order to make it out. So you get changed right after lunch.

“Jet’s leaving in half an hour, get ready.”

You throw the door open. “I’m good to go. Let’s leave in five.”

Doesn’t matter. Bucky gets shot.

The next day, you lock yourself into your room with the music on full volume until Sam virtually bangs the door in one and a half hours after your usual take-off time.

Doesn’t matter. Bucky gets stabbed this time, which is even worse to watch. It’s slower, too.

“Hey,” he manages to get out, a small trickle of blood in the corner of his pained smile. “Don’ worry, doll, I’ll be fine.”

And you nod, even though you know he won’t be. Neither of you are that lucky. Not in this hellcycle.

Next, you pretend to get Torres’ message before Sam is even back from The Garden and you leave at 3 p.m. You actually make it in and out of the facility without a hitch and you almost think you’ve finally done it when Bucky gets hit by a truck in the tunnels on your way back out. By the time Sam and you manage to carry him to the quinjet, mayhem has started, and in the middle of the resulting fight you suddenly sit up in bed, hands still raised as if holding your gun, music blaring,

“Let me know that I’ve done wrong, when I’ve known this all along.”

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize that a stray bullet must have hit Bucky while he was unconscious.

Once again, you reach the toilet just in time.

In other words, you’re way past the point of plausible deniability about your situation. Instead, you’re fucking furious.

You know the only person to blame for any of this is yourself, but that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t even know how you messed up that first reset so badly. It just makes no damn sense.

You activated the time stone.

But the stone is gone. All the stones were destroyed, so how could you have activated it?

Your unintended trip to the astral plane has done nothing but unsettle you. As if you didn’t have enough problems already, now you have to think of moving as soon as you get out of the loop.

Why, after all these years, does this bad joke of a scenario happen to you now?

It’s not like you can google something like “time loop problem” and come up with a list of practical steps to follow. You know this because you did google, and if you have to read the name Phil Connors one more time you are going to scream.

“Earth to Y/N.”

You snap out of your thoughts to find both Sam and Bucky staring at you.

“What?” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“You want a formal invite?” Bucky asks.

You bite your tongue and grab your gear, following them out of the jet and breathing in the sweet evening breeze. It’s usually the last thing you can appreciate about today.

The buildings aren’t visible from where Sam usually lands the jet, but the tunnel entrance is only a couple of yards away from where you’re standing, half-hidden by the underbrush covering this side of the mountain. Today, it’s your next try.

“Hey, Sam!” you shout, jogging to catch up with the guys before they make it all the way up the path. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says, “but without Redwing, we’re going in there completely blind, and I’d rather not serve ourselves up on a silver platter to maybe hundreds of ‘em.”

That’s dramatic. Dozens are more than enough to have this whole mission go south.

You force yourself to wink. “Who needs Redwing if you’ve got me?”

“What did you do?” Bucky asks immediately.

“Your job, Sergeant lookout,” you retort. “Come on, it’s faster than trekking all the way up there.”

A look passes between the two of them. Finally, Bucky shrugs.

“Your call, Sam.” There’s a tone in his voice, one that makes it clear that even though he has an opinion, he’s not going to voice it out loud.

Sam sighs. “What the heck did I expect,” he mutters and you already open your mouth to continue your arguing when he turns and stomps back downhill, still grumbling to himself quietly.

“What was that about?” you wonder aloud, readjusting the intercom in your ear.

Bucky’s jaw is set again, an annoyed flush covering his cheeks. “Get going, Twelve,” he says and turns his back on you.

Your hands ball into fists at the stupid nickname.

He doesn’t use it a lot, not anymore, even though he must enjoy the stony expression it puts on your face each time. It makes you want to shove it in his face, the fact that yes, you can do your part very well, fuck you.

Well, these days, you’re not so sure. So it just hurts.

You push the feeling all the way back down and follow them to the tunnel. The sight of the tire tracks on the sandy ground makes you bite the inside of your cheek again. You haven’t seen them before, only the concrete that covers the floor of the lab. You almost trip when it starts with a tiny step.

“You’re really weird today,” Sam says, a frown forming behind his glasses as he shines his flashlight at you. You squint.

“Didn’t sleep well,” you say, automatically, like you do every day.

The truth is, you can’t remember the last time you had a full night. Bucky dying sends you straight back to waking up to your damn alarm going off, and while you thankfully don’t feel any physical repercussions of sleep deprivation, your mind is exhausted.

And sure, maybe you’re starting to get a bit desperate in your frustration, but what’s the worst that could happen? Someone dies?

The thought inadvertantly makes you chuckle darkly.

“What’s funny?” Bucky asks.

“Your face,” you mumble and he snorts.

“Nap time was not long enough for you today if that’s the best you can do.”

You give him the side-eye. “Don’t drag my naps into this.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“You never nap.”

“I nap often. Passionately.”

“All the five-year-olds on this mission need to shut up now,” Sam interrupts. “There could be an entire squadron descending on us and I couldn’t hear a thing over your squabbling.”

“No one’s here yet, Sam,” you say, dutifully raising your arms, even though you can’t do anything anyway. It seems to reassure him, though.

“I don’t like the sound of that yet,” he says nevertheless, raising his shield as you round another corner. The tunnel finally widens.

“The guards are both upstairs,” you tell him. “As long as we don’t walk in banging pots and pans, we should be fine.”

There are no cameras down here, only in the small lab and the other buildings. You double checked. Makes sense, too, you suppose. Less evidence of whatever they’re doing down here.

“How many times did you jump?” Bucky asks bluntly, lowering his gun once he confirms that the room is empty.

“You’ll never know.” You put your bag down on the table and cross your arms before his gaze, predictably, falls on your rings again.

Sam approaches the containers. “Look at that. What is that?”

They collect the dark blue liquid and you hold your nose at the stench you’ve come to expect, heading towards the computers to make the copy. The monitors are beeping steadily, displaying the usual formulas and data you can’t make sense of.

You plug in the drive and confirm with a glance that the guards upstairs are still engrossed in their card game and unaware of your presence.

The progress bar creeps to the right unbearably slowly, and you find yourself tapping your fingers again. Someone moves behind you to stare over your shoulder.

“You’re hovering again, Barnes,” you say sharply.

“Not quite,” Sam says. “How’s it looking?”

You whirl around, but the lab is empty. “Where’s Bucky?” you say, trying to keep the rushing panic out of your voice.

“Relax. He’s just taking a quick look upstairs before we leave.”

“But that wasn’t the plan,” you almost yell, looking at the monitors again. He’s not in view of any of the cameras yet, but who knows for how long.

“You know I can take care of myself, right?” Bucky says quietly on the intercom.

You curse and start running. “Sam, we have to get out of here fast,” you pant, sprinting up the stairs two at a time while trying to get your gun out of its holster. “Barnes, I swear—”

He’s standing in the door behind the filing cabinet by the time you make it to the first floor with burning lungs, half-turned towards you. “Are you babysitting me?”

“Not the time,” you gasp. “Not '44.”

Bucky frowns. “Forty—”

The beeping sound of a six-digit code being entered on the other side of the lab door has him stop talking. You stumble past him, your finger already on the trigger.

There’s no telling when the silent alarm has gone off, exactly, but there’s a lot more white jackets than the two guards in front of that door, shuffling wildly amongst themselves. It makes it easy for you to take the first two of them down, and you barely notice something flying into the room.

You yelp when Bucky turns you both around and shoves you back into the stairwell just before the entire floor caves in. Your gun drops to the floor as you dive for his hand, but he slips through your fingers, falling through the gaping hole. Barely a moment later, the explosives in your bag detonate on the table downstairs.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, trembling. You smash every single item in your room to pieces.

They don’t stay broken.

***

On day ten, you get drunk.

Because what the hell does it matter, anyway? You crave a bit of nothingness, a void that will make the guilt and anger and sadness finally alleviate, if only for a little bit. You’re so sick of this.

Every time you eliminate another threat during the mission, something else goes to shit unexpectedly. You can’t keep up with what Sam or Bucky are going to do the same way you control your own actions.

It’s this realization, combined with your still slightly tipsy state when you wake up with yet another gunshot still ringing in your ears, that makes you see you cannot, in fact, take care of this on your own. There are simply too many factors for one person to consider.

So really, you’re out of alternatives.

You stumble to your bedroom door just in time for the knocking.

“Rise and shine, Mc—”

“Sam, I need your help.”

He blinks at you, one fist still raised as he takes you in, his grin falling away. “You—what in the—is that blood?”

“It’s not mine.” You usher him into your room and close the door with your foot. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Sam says, eyebrows furrowed in alarm. “What the hell did you do, rob an ambulance and take a bath?”

“I’m stuck in a time loop!” you blurt.

To his credit, it takes him a full second or two before he laughs, and even then, it’s short-lived. “You’re stuck in a—you’re serious,” he says, noticing your helpless expression.

Slowly, you nod and hold up the hand with the green circle wrapped around your wrist. There’s a pause as Sam alternates staring at the symbols and your blood-speckled skin while he processes.

“How on earth did you manage that?”

You take a deep breath. “Ten days ago, it was July 4th. The three of us went on a mission—you’ll get a message in a few hours. And I—I somehow just—it went south, and Bucky died. He died, and I got stuck.”

Sam has his brooding face. “Has Bucky died since then?”

“Every single time.”

“That his blood?”

You nod, tears prickling behind your closed eyes.

“And I’m guessing you can’t stop it.”

“Yup,” you say, swallowing thickly.

“Christ.”

To your surprise, he pulls you in for a hug. It’s a bit awkward, because you try your best to angle your bloody hands away from his shirt, but it also makes you realize how long it’s been since anyone has hugged you for longer than a short greeting.

Sam notices your discomfort, of course. “Is this the first time you’re telling me?” he asks.

You nod again and he squeezes you slightly.

“Have you told Bucky?”

A desperate laugh bubbles up in your chest. “Are you crazy? What good would that do?”

Sam looks at you with a serious expression. “I’m just saying,” he tells you gently. “If you know it’s going to be his last day, he might want to know that.”

“But it isn’t,” you protest, taking another step back. “None of this was supposed to happen. If it were, it’d be July 5th, but instead, I’m stuck here and my powers don’t work at all and I—I don’t know what to do.”

You turn on the bathroom light with your elbow and start scrubbing the blood off your skin under the scorching hot water. It’s already started to dry under your nails. Once you’re done, you take a moment to stare at yourself in the mirror. The scratches on your face have almost healed.

Sam is sitting on the edge of your bed by the time you return. “I know he’s taboo or something, but have you tried contacting the wizard guy?” he asks.

You plop down next to him. “Nope. And I’m not going to.”

“They might be able to help you.” They’re only going to make things even worse.

“Sam—”

“I don’t know what your problem with them is, and I don’t need to know. But is it worth more than Bucky’s life?”

Well, fuck.

“Strange found me on my second rerun, somehow. With some weird mirror reality shit,” you admit, clearing your throat. “Pretty sure I pissed him off.”

“Let’s do that again, then.”

“Alright,” you say sarcastically. “Let me just pull out my book of magic tricks that I’ve kept secret until now.”

“You do know the man has a phone and an address in the Village, right?”

There’s a beat. “I … hadn’t thought of that,” you confess quietly.

Sam rolls his eyes. “All of you with your super serum and your weird powers, and none of you have a single brain cell to spare.”

“Rude.”

He ignores you and stands up. “FRIDAY, please set up a virtual call to Stephen Strange in the conference room in fifteen. And tell Bucky to get his ass up there.”

“Yes, Captain,” FRIDAY confirms.

“I hate it when you go cap mode at me,” you mumble.

“I don’t care,” he says, pulling you up to your feet. “Seriously, Y/N. Ten days of this bullshit on your own, this is like the self-sacrificing crap Steve used to pull.”

You scrunch your nose in protest. “I resent that.”

“Good!”

***

“So,” you finish with a slightly manic smile. “Any questions.”

“Several,” Bucky says dryly.

To be fair, you should have expected that.

Filling Bucky in on your situation—on his situation—has to be one of the most uncomfortable things you’ve ever had to do. You don’t exactly relish in telling a man about his imminent demise. Particularly not when he has the tendency to look like a kicked puppy on a good day.

You don’t know what to make of the expression that’s currently on his face. His gaze is strangely unfocused. You’re pretty sure he’s just indulging you because Sam’s clearly upset. He hasn’t stopped moving since Bucky entered the room.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

You fidget around with your pitch black rings. “Because I’m the one who messed up. I should be the one to fix it. Except, I’m really shit at what I do.”

“Stop that,” Bucky says, leaning forward, frown deepening. “Fine. Why aren’t your powers working?”

“I don’t know. Same reason.”

He rolls his eyes. “Does your self-deprecation ever get tiring?”

What a disappointment you are, says the voice in your head. You push it down. “I don’t know, Bucky. You tell me.”

“I’ll stop if you do, Twelve,” he says with a slight grin, his head cocked to the side.

You grit your teeth. “See, here’s the problem, we could do that, but you’re going to forget you said that in a few hours.”

“I’m calling the mayor,” Sam interrupts, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Tell her I’m not gonna do the stupid speech.”

“No, you’re not,” Bucky says. “Goal is to break the loop, right? So there’s only one version of today. One normal version. Or d’you really wanna put your shield on the line again?”

“He’s right,” you say before Sam feels the need to answer that. “I know this is asking a lot, but I only told you so that you’d be more careful tonight. Both of you.”

You can only hope that it’ll make any difference.

“Alright,” Sam concedes, even though he definitely doesn’t like it. “But I’ll drop by Bleecker Street on my way home later. See if they’ll answer the door, at least.”

For reasons you don’t know but that don’t really surprise you, the time wizards have not deemed you worthy enough to pick up their phone. Honestly, you can’t find it in you to be mad about that, despite everything. They probably wouldn’t be able to help you anyway.

“So what’s the plan?” Bucky asks.

It’s only when you look up in the resuming silence that you realize the question is directed at you. You cough uncomfortably, twisting the ring on your pinkie finger so hard you feel it leave a burn.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly.

“Walk us through it,” Sam says, looking at his watch and exchanging a glance with Bucky. “We have about four hours until I leave. Maybe we can get somewhere with this.”

You’re about to nod when Bucky stands up, tilting his head for you to follow him. You do, slowly, arms wrapped around yourself, feeling like he’s about to shout at you in private. Instead, he pulls his jacket on.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“We are getting you coffee,” he says, shoving a pair of your shoes that are lying on the floor next to the coat rack in your direction. “You look like you’re about to drop down dead, and Sam’s right. We need to know what’s gonna happen.”

You bite the inside of your cheek while you stand next to him in the elevator. It should be discomforting, the way he’s able to read you without ever needing multiple tries, and it is, most of the time, but today …

You’re so tired.

“I need you to promise me something,” Bucky says, clearing his throat. You look at him expectantly. “If this still goes wrong today—”

It tears at you. “Bucky—”

“—you tell me first the next time, alright,” he continues, ignoring your interruption. He keeps staring at the elevator doors. “Not Sam, not anyone else.”

You want to tell him it isn’t going to go wrong anymore, but you’ve never been able to lie to him. So you hold up your pinkie finger and murmur, “Okay.”

The entrance hall of the Tower is mostly empty, but the streets are starting to get busy, people heading towards the nearby train station or walking their dogs. The steady buzz of traffic does wonders for your aching head.

“You should tell me something I couldn’t possibly know about you unless you told me yourself,” you say as you’re waiting in line at Starbucks.

You can feel Bucky staring at you for a long time, sizing you up. “No,” he says, finally.

“I’m not gonna be able to convince you if Sam doesn’t vouch for me,” you huff. “You’re going to think I’m insane.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You roll your eyes and move up to the register, waving hi to your fellow partners and ordering your usual after some delightfully normal small talk. “What do you want?” you turn to Bucky.

“Coffee.”

“What kind?”

“Just … coffee.” You’d be more annoyed at his answer if he didn’t look genuinely confused.

“Drip, then?” your coworker Lucy offers helpfully, reaching for a paper sleeve.

“Sure,” Bucky shrugs, again somewhere else entirely with his mind. “Can I borrow your pen for a second?”

She hands it to him and swipes your member card. “You working this weekend?” she asks you.

“Not ‘til Wednesday,” you say, signing your receipt.

“Boo, lucky. I should go down with my hours, too. I feel like I’m in every day.” She spots the person behind you getting antsy and sighs. “Hi, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for ya?”

“Why do you need a pen?” you ask Bucky while you’re waiting.

“You stay the same when you go back, right? That hasn’t changed?”

You frown at the odd question. “I mean, I wake up in yesterday’s pajamas every day, but I’m also still covered in your blood, so, kind of?”

Treating your situation with a little sarcasm is your only way of coping right now; thankfully, Bucky isn’t so different in that regard.

He nods, uncapping the sharpie. “Give me your hand.”

The request stuns you so much you don’t even ask him why, letting him pull you closer by the wrist, his bare fingers curling around your arm just above the green circlet of time runes for only a moment.

You could count the times Bucky has touched you skin to skin on one hand, but on every instance he does, it’s with a strange ease, as if he were doing it all the time. It sets your nerve endings on fire, though. The cool of his vibranium arm makes the tiny hairs in your neck stand up.

You’re just not used to it, is all.

He writes something on your inner arm, right below the elbow, and you turn your head to try and make out the scrawled letters.

“Nose led what?”

“That’s an F,” Bucky says, a faint blush on his cheeks, but he keeps writing. “No self-deprecation. That goes for both of us.”

Touché. If the note stays through the loop, he’s not going to be able to deny his own handwriting tomorrow. You squint at the rest of it. “What does that say?”

“That’s not for you.” He smirks and puts the cap back on the sharpie. “Now keep that safe, would ya?”

“Is that Russian?” you ask, almost twisting your neck while balancing your coffee with the other hand.

“Ask me tomorrow,” Bucky says, taking a sip of his own drink. His mouth twitches downwards involuntarily. “And don’t just google it.”

You definitely want to google it, but his reaction distracts you just enough. “You know you’re not supposed to make that sort of face when you drink coffee, right?” you say, hiding your amusement behind your own cup.

“I’m not making a face.” He makes it again and you grin.

“You totally are.” It’d be almost endearing if it weren’t Bucky. “Have you ever tried drinking coffee literally any other way than,” you gesture at his black bean water, “that?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, I’m just saying!” You close your eyes at the cool gust of air that hits you when you reenter the Tower. “It’s the little things, sometimes.”

“Guess so,” Bucky says absently, and doesn’t speak again for the entire elevator ride.

Somehow, that’s the moment that flashes through your mind hours later, when there’s a wound in his chest that won’t stop bleeding. That little downwards curl of his lips when he drinks his coffee.

You’ve never noticed it before.

***

“Take the towel on the right, I already used the other one.”

You watch him hang up the piece of cloth and turn his back. For some reason, your heart is racing.

He’s not going to believe you. You’re just not sure if that makes it better or worse.

“Hey, Bucky?” He’s almost at the door by the time you make yourself open your mouth, half-turning as you awkwardly shuffle closer, tugging at your sleeve. You wish there’d been time to wash the sweat off before you had this conversation, but okay. “I have to tell you something and it’s going to sound strange, but I promise I’m not leading you on.”

Bucky stares at you expectantly. “Okay …?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Considering the, you know, everything about me, this might not be a surprise as much as … I don’t know, a shock, maybe?” You feel like this went better yesterday. You definitely didn’t ramble this much. “I mean, it’s a crazy situation even for me, but I’m just going to tell you anyway. I’m in—”

“Crazy?” His expression hardens somewhat, and an irritated flush appears on his cheeks. “Why is it crazy?”

You laugh nervously. “Trust me, you’re gonna think so, too.”

Bucky continues frowning, his eyes fixated on something behind your head. Fine, you think, here goes nothing.

“I’m stuck in a time loop.”

Several things happen on Bucky’s face in such rapid succession that you can’t quite make them out. In the end, he settles on his eyebrows tilting upwards in confusion. “Sorry, could you say that again?”

“I told you it sounds insane. But I’m stuck in a time loop.” You drag your sleeve up, careful not to smudge the ink on your skin even more. “Look, this is your handwriting.”

“How?” Bucky says lowly, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I mean, how long?”

“This is my twelfth July fourth.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I tried resetting—something, and it backfired. And now I’m, well … stuck.”

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, contemplating you for a couple of seconds. “Why are you telling me?” he asks finally.

“Because—” The words get stuck in your throat when he looks at you like that. The last time you’ve seen his eyes, they were unfocused, empty. Now, they’re blue like the ocean and just as alive. You hate that they’ve ever looked anything but. “Because later today, you are going to die,” you finish quietly.

Bucky blinks. And then he does nothing at all, he just keeps staring at you, blankly. It makes you squirm.

“I swear, I’m not—pulling a horrible prank on you or anything, I just—”

“I believe you.” There’s nothing in his voice, not even a hint of emotion.

You turn your head away to inconspicuously rub your eyes dry. “Good, that—that’s good,” you manage.

“How did it happen?” He sounds so matter-of-fact it makes you want to scream.

You push it down. “It’s different each day. First couple times you got shot. Yesterday—yesterday you took a knife.” You don’t tell him it was because of you again. You can’t.

“That’s not … Okay.” Bucky takes a breath, taking a small step backwards so he leans against the door. “So are we getting attacked or …”

“There’ll be a mission later. In a couple of hours.”

He nods, not meeting your eye. “Good.”

Something inside you shatters. “Good?”

“It gives us time to come up with a plan. What about you, and Sam?” His hands ball into fists. “Are you going to get hurt?”

“We’re fine,” you nearly snap. How is he not grasping this? “You’re not.”

“Have you told him?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest. “Not as far as he remembers.”

“Good,” Bucky repeats, nodding slowly. “Don’t. He has enough to worry about. We’re gonna work this out.”

“The two of us?” you say skeptically. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like it’s gonna work out great.”

He heaves a sigh and pushes the door open, eyes slowly dragging over your frame. “It’ll have to,” he says, and there’s something strange in his voice that makes you soften a bit.

“You’re gonna be fine,” you say, but it doesn’t soothe your nerves, either. “It’s something about that mission, I think. ‘Til then, you’re gonna be …” You trail off.

There’s the tiniest bit of a crooked smile in the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “Guess it’s finally time to pick up fire-eating.”

“No time like the present,” you agree half-heartedly.

“Right.” His frown is still more determined than worried as his gaze trails back to your arm again, one foot in the doorway. “Listen, there’s actually something I should …” You can see the gears in his head turning, but he trails off, shaking his head. “Go shower, Twelve.”

The door closes behind him before you can ask what that was about.

You wash the sweat and grime off under the hot water, but you’re careful to stick one arm out of the stream. The ink smears only a little.

***

Four more days pass something like this: You tell Bucky, who makes you promise not to say anything to Sam, and then you fail to change anything of significance. Hours of research amount to nothing more than finding out the keycode to open the wall on the first floor. It’s somewhat of a relief. Ever since the ceiling incident, you haven’t been keen on moving through the tunnels unless absolutely necessary.

It doesn’t help that Bucky keeps acting shifty whenever you show him his handwriting.

You wait two days before you get a hand mirror and awkwardly copy down his letters. It’s not a long phrase, only two words: скажи ей. It doesn’t tell you a whole lot to google it, only makes you frown at your laptop. Tell her.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” you test the following morning. The letters have started to fade, no matter how careful you are.

Bucky doesn’t meet your eyes when he says, “Not now.” He doesn’t mention it again later.

And then there’s the coffee.

You don’t tend to vary a lot with your own order, or with Sam’s, who really prefers the iced teas anyway, but introducing Bucky to different ways of taking his coffee is the one part of your day you’re allowing yourself a little lightness.

At heart, you’re a problem-solver, and right now, this seems like the only problem you have any control over.

He likes caramel, but doesn’t prefer it over vanilla. Texture is more important to him than temperature, and you find out he likes oat milk almost by accident. It’s a tiny victory.

The rest still sucks.

“We need to find these damn cameras,” you tell Bucky as you kick Riff in the head. “Maybe if they don’t see us coming, they don’t send a whole squadron at once.”

“A little late for that, don’t you think?” Sam’s voice sounds through the comms.

“We stayed out of the cameras’ range,” Bucky shouts over the cacophony of shots hitting the shield. “That’s not our problem.”

Damnit. If it’s not the cameras, either, something else entirely must trigger the alarm. Another idea down the drain. “Now!”

Down goes the blaster gun, quickly followed by your friend with the knife. Your heart is beating in your throat. Less than two minutes until the computers blow, and then the timing game truly begins. “Let’s move!” you say. “Just stay close to me.”

The copy. The explosion. Blaster gun getting back up. Jesse James by the far wall. The idiot with the explosives near the tunnel entrance. It’s like the most depressing clockwork on the planet, tuned precisely to the second. You get a bit farther each time you rewind it, but as soon as you’ve taken care of all the eventualities you’ve encountered, you enter dangerous waters.

Because as soon as you shoot your last checkpoint, anything could happen. And the not knowing is what’s killing him.

Bucky is walking ahead of you, his heavy breaths the only sound reverberating off the tunnel walls. The silence makes you want to scream, but you just bite your lip raw and keep your finger on the trigger, wearily watching the ceiling, the dancing shadows along the walls, his back. Every step further into the unknown has you more on edge.

When you hear a swooshing sound, you raise your gun instantly, but Bucky holds his hand over the muzzle. The fact that it’s the right one makes you freeze.

“Why the hell aren’t you answering me?” Sam yells at you, and a cloud of dust whirls up when his feet hit the floor heavily. “I thought you were dead!”

“Not quite yet,” Bucky murmurs, throwing him the shield back without a glance, without stopping for a second.

You lower your gun. “Comms broke,” you say shortly, daring another look over your shoulder. Still nothing. “I thought you were getting our ride ready.”

“I was, before the two of you went radio silent on me,” Sam grumbles, reattaching his shield. “I took another look uphill, too, there’re even more heading down here.”

And don’t you know it. Your steps quicken somewhat.

Another turn and you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, catch a stripe of reddish twilight in the distance that makes your heart beat even faster. Just as you’re about to dare a sigh of relief, you can see Bucky’s shoulders tense out of the corner of your eye.

You don’t think, moving purely out of instinct. You dive towards him, throwing your own body over his side as if it could be enough of a barrier against this curse. He tumbles, metal arm automatically clenched around your waist.

Not again. Not when you’re so close you can smell it.

You don’t even know where the shot comes from. All you know is the pain exploding in your side.

Even without your doing, time passes so terribly slowly.

Your mouth is opened wide, even though no sound comes out. Sam shouts something, but you can’t make out his words. The only thing you can focus on is the blood slowly spreading on Bucky’s vest, and his eyes, wide and wild. He catches you as your knees buckle.

“Y/N!” Your name falls from his lips like a cry.

There are at least five more shots before your world goes dark.

And then you gasp awake, blinking at the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Your hands fly to your side and you bite down a whimper at the searing pain. For once, it’s your own blood covering your palms when you carefully lift up your top to inspect the wound. The bullet seems to only have grazed you before lodging itself into Bucky, but you’re still bleeding profusely.

Stumbling to your bathroom, you grab the first clean towel you can find and hold it under a stream of warm water before applying pressure. Tears well up in your eyes at the sting. The music keeps going and going, but you still stifle your sobs in your shoulder. And then—

“Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!”

You take a few unsteady breaths, trying to free your blocked nose. “I don’t feel so good today, Sam!”

Your bedroom door opens and you quickly slam the door to your tiny bathroom shut with your foot before he sees you.

“Come on, Y/L/N,” you hear him right outside your door. Inches away from you, and from your bloody bed sheets. “You already bailed on our run yesterday, don’t leave me hangin’ again.”

You almost laugh through gritted teeth. For you, it’s been a good month since you went with him on one of your weekly runs. Last Thursday, you’ve given some whimsy excuse you can’t even remember anymore; that was only yesterday.

“Sorry,” you say, your voice wobbling a bit. “I’m not feeling so hot today.”

There’s a prolonged silence on the other side and you can’t decide if you’re silently begging him to leave or to come in, pressing the towel into your side so hard it almost makes you sick. The music turns off.

A rustling noise has you blink through your tears, staring at the door as if you could will a window into it. It’s followed by some soft thumps and more swishing, before you hear steps stop in front of the bathroom again.

“I’ll make you a hot water bottle,” Sam says gently. “Do you need anything else?”

You press the back of your hand against your mouth to muffle your whimper. The green symbols sting your nose. “No,” you manage softly. “Thank you.”

Surely, the universe is laughing at you.

When you emerge from the bathroom, an improvised towel tourniquet wrapped around your torso, you find your bed made. Sam must have stripped your bloody sheets and stuck them in the laundry basket. The gesture almost makes you start crying again.

It doesn’t seem like it’s the first time he’s done something like this, but it’s the first time he’s done it for you. You think about Sarah, and you can’t help but wonder when he’s going to see her again. If he’s ever going to see her again.

You stopped changing your sheets days ago. It’s always the same ones when you wake up.

Almost unconsciously, you find yourself drawn towards the shelves on the other side of your room. The book is still there, still mocking you with its cheerful cover. No matter how many times you put it away, it always ends up in the wrong spot. Your fingers trace the broken spine. The Wind in the Willows.

I’ll be here when you’re done acting like a child.

Your throat constricts when you realize there might be only one way out of this.

***

You don’t know how long you stand there, gaze unfocused, trying and failing to think of any other solution. The only other one you have left is Sam, and you first have to convince Bucky to tell him. Despite it all, you’re not about to start breaking promises.

When you open the door to your bedroom, you’re greeted by a whining ball of fur.

“Not now, Alpine.”

She meows at you pitifully, running around your legs repeatedly until you almost trip up the stairs.

“You are a hellcat from hell,” you murmur, picking her up with one hand, wincing at the stretch. Immediately, she digs her claws into your forearm and you hiss. “Fine. Fine! You brought this on yourself,” you tell her and carry her out to the hall, not too gently putting her down and locking her out of the living area.

You have more urgent things to take care of than Bucky’s stupid, egotistical piece of work of a cat.

“Hey.”

You flinch and then curse quietly at the stabbing pain just below your ribs.

“Sorry.” Bucky strolls a bit closer, his steps louder now, before he leans against the wall next to you. “You look like shit.”

You make yourself look at him. This is the part that somehow never gets any easier. His eyes are so blue in the morning light, his hair auburn at the tips. “I need to talk to you.”

The letters on your arm have almost faded into nothing, but he still believes you.

“What about you, and Sam?”

Always that question. “We’re fine,” you say, like you always do, but he’s too good at reading you. The way you hold yourself, the faint tear tracks you haven’t washed away, the bulky shirt you barely managed to button with one hand.

His expression hardens and softens at the same time. “Where?”

“Don’t—” you start, but the blood loss makes you dizzy, and his eyes drag you under like a current. You’re so tired.

“Tell me.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you as you lift up your shirt, careful not to touch your makeshift bandage. It’s not working very well, the red tinge on the towel still growing at a sickening rate. Bucky curses under his breath.

You’re not sure how you get to the med ward in only a few seconds, but you’re still dazed when he loosens his grip around you and starts rummaging through the cupboards.

“Don’t get up,” he says sternly, and you drop your head back on the cot.

So damn useless.

“This is gonna hurt, doll,” Bucky says before peeling the towel off your skin in one smooth move.

Turns out he’s right. Your fingers dig into your thigh, your teeth clenched tightly.

“Did you disinfect this at all before you mummified yourself?” Your tense silence is answer enough. “Oh, for the love of god.”

Despite the sharpness in his tone, his fingers are surprisingly soft against your skin as he skilfully, methodically cleans out your wound and applies a fresh layer of gauze. It makes your eyes water.

It’s only when he’s finished with your new tourniquet and he sits down on the floor in front of you that you notice the light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Are you okay?” you whisper.

Bucky’s jaw doesn’t unclench with his mirthless chuckle. His wild ocean eyes remain fixed on your side. “This is because of me,” he says, and you can almost taste the undercurrent of loathing in his words.

“That’s not true.” This is no one’s fault but your own.

“Not worth that.”

“Hey,” you say, and the edge in your voice makes him look at you. “The ‘no self-deprecation’ thing wasn’t my idea, so I’d appreciate you sticking to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“Well, tough,” you say after a beat. “‘Cause that’s just how it is.”

You count the ticks of the clock outside until you lose track of the numbers before you commit to your decision. “I’m going to talk to Strange.”

Bucky presses his lips together. “Are you sure?”

“No, but I’m out of my depth.” Laughing still hurts. “And we’re going to tell Sam.” You can see him open his mouth, so you continue talking before he can protest. “I promised that I would tell you first, and I’ve done that. We’ve been at this for almost a week, I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t fucking do it anymore.”

Hot tears threaten to spill and you turn your head towards the ceiling in angry embarrassment.

“We can’t do this alone, we don’t work together, we don’t, we—we need Sam. Maybe he can think about something we don’t. But I’m tired, Buck. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

“I’m sorry.” There’s a weight to it that makes your insides ache.

“Me too.”

You’ve never felt so powerless in your life, but you still reach out to him, slowly, your hand shaking. He interlaces his fingers with yours calmly, easily, and the warmth of it travels up all the way to your cheeks.

*****

“They do have a point,” you said, scrolling through another news article about ULTIMATUM. You’d changed into slightly more dignified clothes and were now perched over your phone in one of the leather office chairs in the meeting room, knees tucked under your chin, your second cup of coffee perilously balanced on the armrest.

“So did Karli Morgenthau,” Sam said. “Doesn’t mean the way they go about making it is right.”

You hummed in agreement, zooming in on one of the pictures. The girl in the white jacket in its center wasn’t Karli, but she did remind you of her. She had the same defiant hold of her chin that you’d seen on the news so many times, the same soft, angry way of holding herself. The reporters had picked up on it, too. They didn’t know her name yet, didn’t even know if she was going to try to fill her footsteps or if it was a mere coincidence that made her the focal point of the photographs, but they’d still resorted to calling her the New Flag Smasher.

As if they were all the same.

“What I still don’t get is why you would need me. I mean, he’s right.” You nodded at Bucky. “You have done this sort of thing before. I haven’t.”

“You’ve done a pretty decent job at these kinds of extraction missions in the past, though,” Sam said. “And unlike Sergeant Grumpy Cat over here, I’m still a full-time human with a will to live. I don’t trust the methods these people use, so we could use an extra pair of hands.”

The irony of his phrasing didn’t escape you.

“So I’m your worst-case solution,” you clarified. “Charming. How do you even know you can trust me? We don’t know each other, I’m sure there’s other people, better agents you can—”

“Steve did.” It was Bucky who said it, and the surprise made you stop talking. “Trust you.”

“And what does that matter? Steve’s gone.” You dug your nails into your palms so hard it hurt. “They’re all gone, so what difference does it make, really, if he trusted me, or didn’t, or you do. The world’s gonna keep moving either way, and we still can’t change that. I can’t change that.”

“So what’s your—”

You took a deep, shuddering breath. When you held it, so did the world. Sam’s hand froze mid-air, his sentence unfinished, and Bucky became even more still, his face turned towards the floor.

Your tears fell in the quiet of a standing universe, unexpected and angry, with no one there to witness them. It took you a few minutes to calm down again, to rub at your cheeks until your eyes finally dried up again. In the silence, you realized something, almost through a haze.

With one last critical look at your reflection on your phone screen, you released your hold and everything started to move again. Sam grabbed his mug, the same one you’d kept him from breaking earlier.

“—plan, then?” he finished his question calmly, taking a sip. “Do nothing instead, because nothing matters?”

“He’s put you up to this, hasn’t he?” you said tonelessly. “Steve. You said he’s the one who told you about me. What else did he say?”

“To remind you you still owe Captain America a favor,” Sam answered.

Of course he’d done that.

You sat in silence again, but this time the AC kept whirring and Bucky kept tapping his mug with his metal fingers, the coffee untouched. It was a breathing kind of quiet.

“Well, good thing Walker’s out of a job, then.” You took another breath and reached for the coffee pot. “What do you need me to do?”

“What is it you can do, exactly?” Bucky asked.

You looked at Sam. “What did you tell him?”

“That you’re a trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with the kind of abilities we can use,” he replied, a sly smile on his face. At least he stuck to the official story.

You contemplated the pair of them. They were both good men, trustworthy, loyal; according to Steve, at least. Then again, you’d never had cause to doubt his judgment before.

Well. Not until the end.

“What I can do stays between us,” you said finally, crossing your arms. “That’s my one condition.”

Sam knew already, anyway, so it was really up to Bucky. He leaned forward on his elbows, vibranium fingers interlocking with his flesh ones, blue eyes narrowed in on you. “To do what, exactly?”

“Save you a few broken bones and bullet wounds.” You clearly intrigued him, and you couldn’t quite hide the smug look spreading on your face. “What do you say, Barnes? Think you can trust me?”

chapter four

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

[chocotonez]

skz reaction: finding an item that isn’t your’s in their car (prank gone wrong) (cops called) (3am!!)

a/n: writing this on the plane LMAO, I decided to take a more uhhh general approach to this request? Nothing in the nature made me uncomfortable I just had a lot of ideas, but if you wanted me to do specifically do the items you requested just lmk lovely anon! xoxo

warnings/genre: angst w happy-ish ending, hcs mixed with scenarios, somewhat proofread, crying n arguing sorry

chan

-At first he is absolutely terrified when you pull out a press on nail from below the seat

-Maybe his sister left it there when he last visited?? one of his members trying a new style?? he literally does not know and he’s panicking.

-gaslit to the extreme because he like genuinely believes he did something wrong even if he hasn’t had anyone else but you in his car for the past week

-“That genuinely isn’t your’s? But I swear I haven’t picked up any girl, babe, please, I’m serious that I have no idea where that came from-“

-you started feeling bad halfway because he was tearing up and then you were like, “it was a prank I’m sorry! This is an old nail babe!”

-He was not at all amused

“Are you kidding me?” He laughed dryly, clutching the wheel with white knuckles.

“I didn’t expect you to genuinely believe me, Chris, I’m sorry-“ you tried, awkwardly saving the tik tok to your drafts.

“I just…? Babe, that’s such a stupid joke, I genuinely thought I did something wrong…” You looked over at him, his teeth sucked and face tense. “Never do that to me again, please?”

minho

-It blows up immediately, but like not in the way your video went viral, more of that he was pissed

-not really at you?? but just at the absurdity of the situation because do you really think that he’s fooled by the fact the car smells like the old body spray you stopped using a few weeks ago? not getting past him, sorry babe

-I think it’ll get kinda toxic where he’ll be like “are you literally insane this is ur old body spray, I literally never drive anyways why would I pick up anyone else but you??” Like not manipulative because it’s the truth but it’s sorta mean in the way he says it

-you eventually just get pissed off and admit it was just a prank

-“yea no shit” -him

“How dumb do you think I am?” He clicked his tongue, parking in front of your place. “Seriously, if you wanted to play such a stupid joke on me you have to be smarter with it.” You huffed in annoyance, rolling your eyes.

“You know, if I ever actually accused you of cheating and you acted like this we would’ve broken up by now.”

“No? So it’s not right for me to get mad at me over you just randomly accusing me when I didn’t do anything?”

“It was a joke!” You exclaimed, finally turning to face him. He grabbed your face, kissing you, frustrated and rough, but his grip on your skin was gentle.

“And you think my feelings for you are?”

changbin

-I feel like he’d immediately burst into tears even though he didn’t do anything, he just didn’t like that you were upset cuz now he was upset too even though he has no idea where a scrunchie both of you have never seen came from

-not really begging but more just like pleading for you to understand he genuinely has no clue where tf it came from

-“I’m always at the studio how would I even have time to cheat on you!!”

-you felt so bad and who wouldn’t because making changbin feel bad is actually a crime

“Binnie, I’m sorry, it was just a joke, I put it there.”

“Why would you do that?!” He exclaimed, wiping his face with the tissue paper you handed him.

“I-I’m sorry, I just thought you wouldn’t react like this. You know I’d never really think you’d cheat on me, okay? I love you.”

“Then you should know that I would never do something like that to you. You know I love you, okay? Please don’t ever make my loyalty a joke.”

hyunjin

-silent treatment because he mainly doesn’t know how to react but because he’s also like there’s no fuckin way

-he knows for a fact he would never cheat on you with someone who’d leave their extensions behind.

-“Jagi. Do you really think I’d break your heart over a girl who’s wearing 5$ extensions?”

-your attempts are laughable but he genuinely cannot fathom the fact you’re worried, he either immediately thinks it’s a joke or this is some weird fever dream

-it’s very frustrating to keep trying to fool a man who can’t be fooled </3 so you admit it was a joke

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he teased.

“I didn’t think you’d figure it out immediately.”

“I didn’t think it was a joke, love. I just know I wouldn’t leave you for anything, especially someone with cheap extensions.”

“You are so…” you sighed, relieved it didn’t blow over in an argument. “I know, and I love you.”

“Love you too, but if you wanna do a prank, at least think ahead next time, okay? Good try.”

han

-bursts into tears pt2

-I think he’s like Chan where he genuinely believed someone other than you left behind a face mask with makeup staining the interior, but also he doesn’t know anyone who wears that lip shade other than you?? but you wouldn’t lie to him about this right??

-it’s not naivety it’s trust, he genuinely believes your worries are valid and it’s sweet but also upsetting to watch him tear up and panic

-you finally just admit you left it there as a joke, and he gives you the silent treatment for a solid ten minutes

“Hannie?”

“…I can’t believe you right now, you’re always playing with my feelings.”

“I’m sorry Han, I didn’t think you’d believe it. You know I’d never think you would cheat on me, right?”

“No, y/n, I don’t know that, that’s why I was freaking out!” He exclaimed, sighing. You looked down at your feet, regretting the idea. “It’s not that I don’t trust you like that, but I don’t know if you trust me.”

“But I-“

“Well I don’t know that. I love you, but it’s hard to remember you love me too.”

“Well I do,” you insisted, narrowing your eyes. “I love and trust you.” He gave you a side glance, biting his bottom lip.

“I love you, and I trust you too. But never do this again, please?”

felix

-he finds the ring before you do, a small piece that you probably wouldn’t wear. it doesn’t rlly look like your style, but oh well

-has never felt fear like that when you respond with “uhhh ive never seen that before?” (lie)

-smh y/n do better </3

-he’s just really confused, he doesn’t immediately realize that finding this piece is an implication he’s cheating on you, so he thinks some rando broke into your car

-you have to sorta push the fact it’s a piece of jewelry that isn’t your’s that was found in his passenger’s seat

-gets very defensive when he realizes that’s what ur implying

-is relieved but not happy when you drop the act

“Darling, you’d know I wouldn’t do that to you, did anyone borrow the car? Weren’t you with your friends the other day?”

“Felix, we never drive anywhere unless it’s you and me!”

“But I’ve never-“ You notice his eyes beginning to swell with frustrated tears, as he ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know what you want me to say? I’ve never seen this ring before.”

“Lix…don’t cry, okay? It was just a stupid prank. I put thé ring there.”

“But why would you do that? Don’t you know I’d never cheat on you?” He sniffled, trying to disguise the fact there were already tears running down his cheek.

“I do, that’s why it was a prank. You’d never hurt me like this, okay? I’m sorry.” He embraced you, squeezing you until it was as heart wrenching as he felt.

“It was a really mean prank, darling.”

seungmin

-very defensive when you question him about a bracelet you found in his bathroom that doesn’t look like anything either of you own

-v tired and I feel like he’s not at all the type interested in repetitive and unproductive discussions so he might just snap and it starts becoming an argument

-so insanely done w the conversation that he really might just sleep on the couch

-you just want it to end because it’s getting really touchy so you say it was a joke

-he is not pleased :|, but he takes it a lot better than the others

“That’s the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard,” he blurted, staring at your upset figure. He immediately felt bad, knowing he was a bit harsh, but seriously, it felt like you were gaslighting him!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did this-“

“No, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have reacted like this, especially if it was serious.” You hugged him immediately, sighing and muttering an apology.

“You know I trust you, okay? I’m sorry.”

“I love you, don’t ever question it.

jeongin

-yknow I was thinking what about doing this prank and it turns out they were actually cheating on u lmao

-anyways yea he’s annoyed because he thinks it’s a waste of time and he doesn’t even know where that hair clip came from

-but he wants to make sure you feel heard because he LOVES u ok!! even though the things ur saying e stupid and very obviously false!!

-I think he’d be the one most likely to acknowledge this was probably a prank, and then you have to admit it because you know you lost </3

-sure it was annoying but it was cute you tried

“Hey, don’t pull stuff like that again okay? It’s pointless, and you know I hate being mad.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought it would be a fun trend.”

“I know, I’m sorry if I was mean too. I just didn’t wanna be accused of something I didn’t do, okay?” You smiled, holding him closer as he ran his hands through your hair. “When did you get that hair clip anyways?”

“The convenience store.”

“Knew it. I love you more than anything, so don’t expect me to give you up so easily.”

[jxmxisvu]

Summary: While on tour, Jungkook gets a phone call from his girlfriend that turns his whole world upside down.

Author’s Note: This could easily be turned into a series but I haven’t decided if I will or not. I just started classes so I may not have time to write for a while, but I’ve had this story idea (this scenario in particular) in my head for a few months now and I wanted to put it out into the world so let me know what you think!

Warnings: Mentions of sex, stressful situations.

Tags: Angst, fluff (kinda? JK is sweet and supportive.)

——————————————————————————————————————————————————-

“Kookie… baby, I need to talk to you. Something happened.” You sniffled through your words, and you could’ve sworn you could hear Jungkook’s heart stop through the phone.

“Something happened? What’s going on, Y/N?” He asked.

He was in a hotel suite with Jimin and Taehyung when you called, and the question he asked you caused both of them to look up from their own phones with concerned faces. Jungkook paid them no mind, rushing into a private room with the door shut and locked.

You struggled to answer him, your lip quivering but not allowing the words to come out before you just broke down. You sobbed on the phone, and Jungkook’s heart broke knowing that he couldn’t be near you. He didn’t know what had happened and at that moment, he didn’t need to know. He just needed to hold you in his arms.

“Baby…” He said gently through the phone. “I don’t know what happened but you need to tell me, ok? Whatever it is, I’ll make it better. I’ll make it go away. But I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me.”

“Kookie, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed. “I’m so, so, so sorry, it was an accident. I don’t know how they got it, they hacked my phone or something and I don’t know how, and-“

“Hey, slow down baby.” He said though a veneer of calmness. “Let’s go slow, ok? Your phone was hacked, and someone got something? What did they get?”

There was a moment of pause for you to collect yourself, sniffling and wiping tears with your sleeve, gathering yourself enough to admit to him what was taken.

“The video.” You said quietly. “That video. From when I was visiting you in your hotel in New York a few weeks ago.”

Jungkook’s heart sank and his eyes widened, his stomach doing flips at the spike of anxiety. But he had to stay calm for you, he knew you needed him to be collected.

“Ok.” He said, nodding his head. “Did they take anything else from you baby?”

“No.” You whimpered. “They never took any texts or photos I sent you or anything, just the video.”

“Ok baby. Listen, I’m going to fix this, ok? I’ll make it better like I promised. You trust me, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” You said, your tears coming back. “I love you so much.” You cried.

“I love you too, baby.” He said, his heart shattering at the sound of you crying. “I love you so, so much. I’m on your team, ok? I’m in your corner, right here beside you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ok.” You whispered. “I’m so embarrassed, Kookie. That was just supposed to be for us, I don’t want anyone else seeing us like that.”

“I know, baby.” He said, his protective nature bubbling. “I’m going after whoever did this, and nobody else will see it, ok? I promise. When I find out who took that from you, I swear to God…”

There was a pause. A silence lingering in the air for a bit, broken up slightly by the sound of you trying to collect yourself. Jungkook wanted so badly to wrap you up in his arms and keep you close, acting as a shield to protect you from the ugliness of the situation. The thought of his girl, the love of his life, feeling humiliated and scared because someone else saw what only he should see was heart breaking and angering.

“Listen, baby,” He said softly. “I know you won’t want to do this… but I have to tell Namjoon.”

“Wait, what? Why?” You cried.

“When something goes wrong, we need to tell him so our management can deal with it.” Jungkook explained gently. “I know, baby. I know you don’t want anyone finding out. I don’t want anyone knowing what happened either, but a few people have to know so we can prevent this from getting bigger, ok?”

“Ok…” You said, hesitantly. “I’m so scared, Kookie.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t be scared.” He cooed. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. We’ll get through this, ok? Listen to me… I love you, Y/N. Don’t worry too much. We’ll be ok.”

“Ok… I love you too.” You said gently.

“I’m going to hang up now and talk to Namjoon, ok baby? Why don’t you try to get some sleep, it’s late.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep.” You laughed softly to yourself.

“I know, but just try to get some rest. I’ll talk to Namjoon about coming home soon to be with you. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” You whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He whispered back, before you both hung up the phone.

As soon as the call was over, he felt his blood boiling. The thought of you being scared, humiliated and sobbing over the phone to him was enough to set him off. Jungkook was always the protective boyfriend, even in small situations, but with a situation as big as this one? He felt like he was ready to go to war.

He marched out of the room to meet the stares of Jimin and Taehyung, their eyes big and puzzled. But he paid their “What was that?” questions no mind. He needed to find Namjoon.

He went down the hall to Namjoon’s room and knocked, waiting for his hyung to open the door. Before Namjoon could even open the door completely, Jungkook barged in and told him they needed to talk.

“Whoa, whoa. Ok.” Namjoon said. “What’s going on?”

“They took our video Namjoon-hyung. They fucking took it off of her phone, and she called me crying and she’s scared-“

“Hold on.” Namjoon cut him off. “They took what off of who’s phone?”

“Y/N’s phone.” Jungkook responded. “There’s a…. Uh… private video on there, of us… together… that was taken.”

“… Jungkook.” Namjoon said, looking at him sternly. “Exactly what type of video is it?”

There was a moment of silence before Jungkook could push his answer past his lips, as though even just murmuring the words to his hyung would end his career right then and there.

“A sex tape.” Jungkook said softly. “They stole our sex tape off Y/N’s phone.”

[hhawks]

THE KIND OF GIRL YOU DREAM OF

✰ starring: lady nagant/kaina tsutsumi x fem!reader ✰ synopsis: in which you spend your nights wishing your girlfriend would stay. ✰ content: mha manga spoilers if you squint, post paranormal liberation war arc (i haven't read it so if anything's wrong crucify me), kinda toxic nagant ngl, clingy reader, kinda angsty. i really just put my tummy ache on the keyboard n it wrote this. very self indulgent ✰ warnings: oral (f! receiving), non descriptive fingering, slight dom/sub dynamics ✰ word count: 2.3k ✰ a/n: you ever just want something you can't have bc that's me with kaina tsutsumi

“kaina.”

her name. when was the last time she’d heard it? when had anyone called her anything but nagant? you watch the way she tenses at the doorframe, hand sliding down the dark oak. “hey.”

“hey?” you don’t rise from your place in the bed, your knees curled to your chest, the way she had found you here, on this monday night. “hey?”

“what else do you want me to say?” her voice is tired, you can hear the traces of strain and phlegm and tiredness behind it. “i’m sorry? i am, you know.”

you roll your eyes, leaning back against the headboard. “you could at least sound genuine about it. you know, after leaving for three weeks without so much as a warning.”

it was true. you’d gone to sleep with kaina one night only to find her gone the next morning, a whisper in the wind, not even a goodbye to detail her absence. it wasn’t an uncommon phenomenon; you know kaina’s resilience to duty was stronger than anything else. more important to her than anything.

and that included you, her girlfriend.

“i can’t stay long.” there they are. the four dreaded words you fear every time she comes back home. “i have another mission in about three hours. but i thought i’d come by.”

“come by your own house?” you can taste the bitterness on your tongue, the embers that coat the tip of your words.

she sighs. it’s so obvious she’s tired, and you curse yourself for being so harsh with her, but you can’t help the ache in your heart that tattles on you. the subtle beating of your pulse that rises ever so slightly when she walks forward, planting one knee of the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. “‘m sorry,” she whispers, and when you look at her, you can’t seem to find even a trace of disingenuity in her eyes, no matter how hard you look. “i really am. i wish i could stay.”

“then stay,” you whimper, reaching forward to wrap your arms around her neck. “please. ‘m tired of sleeping alone, kai.”

you watch her eyes close, the way the moonlight paints the angles of her face silver. the dusty gleam of light cracks through the room, padding softly between two lovers, destined apart. “please,” comes your broken plea, begging, desperate.

she laughs. not a happy, melodical one, but one that’s full of air. full of resignation, full of stop asking, please, stop asking for what i cannot give you. the words aren’t spoken, but they’re there. they’re inkling at the back of her throat and the tip of your tongue. hanging between your mouths, taunting you.

“can i kiss you?” she asks, violet eyes glassy. your heart breaks in two, in pieces, into shards that pierce your fingertips with every inch of skin you dare to touch. like electricity, buzzing in your nerves, synapses crying and jumping and fizzling. you want everything and anything, and so you answer her with a kiss.

she’s warm and sweet, familiar and sighing with a deep, finally. like she’s been waiting weeks for the taste of your tongue, to feel the softness of your skin under the pads of her fingers. you think, maybe she has. maybe she thinks about me. really, thinks about me. there’s the scent of need and desire as she climbs further up the bed to you, enveloping you in her arms, the strong stench of her work and the constant reminder that this is temporary. that her time here is borrowed, a breather between jobs and that you’re not really a priority. just a hobby.

but she’s here, you remind yourself, as her lips trail from your lips to your jaw. you giggle softly, a small tickles, leaves your mouth in a breath. and she laughs with you. she’s here with me, she came to me. are your insecurities unfounded? you’re trying, valiantly trying not to think as she holds you, rucks her hands up your sleep shirt, warm palms to chilled skin. “kaina,” you whimper. “more, please.”

she nods. silent. ever mum, working more with her hands. her fingers twist in the cotton of your shirt, and she glances at you for permission. you nod shakily. “yes, yes.”

goosebumps raise along your exposed skin, your nipples pebbling. she throws your shirt over her shoulder, already forgotten as she watches you shiver. “fuck,” she breathes. “‘s cold, isn’t it? d’you wanna lie down?”

“‘s okay,” you murmur, tugging on her own clothes. “take ‘em off, wanna see you.”

you help her along, undoing the belt and the back of her costume, the dark fabric falling away under your fingers. scar upon scar is revealed to you, stories she’s told you of her time in the hero commission, in tartarus. you shed tears as she rocked you and only whispers as comfort, her arms holding you tightly against her chest. darkened sinew trailing down, down, down.

only the moonlight is privy to this moment between two lovers, who sit across from one another in silence, some sort of twisted intimacy as you look. just look. watch the way her chest heaves as she breathes, new bruises, dried blood. your heart aches to rip itself out of your chest and fling itself next to her own, but you hold it steady. instead, you reach an arm out, tentative hands finding sensitive skin. “kaina,” you mumble, tracing a new scar, barely healed, dried scabbed skin pulling itself taut to heal her.

“it’s nothing,” she assures you, but there’s a warble in her voice that makes you doubt. you’ve never called kaina a liar. she’s the most honest person you’ve ever met. but as she winces, obvious pain rippling as you caress her bare skin, you know candour has never met her tongue tonight. “baby, lay down.”

you look at her, unsure. uncertain creases your brow, makes you ugly. she reaches forward and thumbs the wrinkle away, and guides you to lay on your back before her. “wanna make you feel good,” she smiles against your cheek. “let me?”

kaina hovers above you, lips trailing from your jaw to the hollow of your throat, biting and sucking. you whimper, wrapping your arms under her arms. “kai, d-don’t, it’ll show—”

“i want it to,” she peers up at you. “so people know you belong to me.” she licks a forming bruise, blue and purple and lovely. she leaves a trail, wet and featherlight down to your navel, where the band of your panties awaits her. she digs her fingertips under the elastic, snapping it once. you jerk slightly, a pent up breath expelled from where you were holding it.

“so sensitive,” she smiles, nudging the tip of her nose against it, the only thing separating her from your clit that flimsy piece of cotton. “been keeping it good for me?”

“mmhm,” you whine. “haven’t cum since the last time you made me. promise.”

“good girl,” she affirms, her tongue poking out to run a wet stripe over the crotch of your panties. “so good.” her tongue is so warm, you can feel it even over the cotton, and it makes you clench. just the heat of her mouth is enough to see you come undone, and you think that there’s nothing more you could ever want or need than her pulling them off right now.

you whine. “off, off,” you’re kicking, trying to rub your thighs together for friction. “wanna feel your tongue, kai, please?” you must look pitiful, because her eyes soften and her jaw goes slack, and her fingertips are moving faster than you can register to pull the soft fabric down your thighs. it feels cold, her fingertips tracing patterns into your skin, so soft and teasing they make your toes curl. there’s a beat of silence that passes between the two of you as she helps you toe your panties completely off and she just looks. looks at the way your pussy drips in front of her, silver glistening against the expanse of your skin. milky hands find their way to your thighs, her grip strong as she pulls you closer to her.

“i’ve missed this pussy,” she breathes, nudging the tip of her nose along the slick of your folds. “holy fuck, i’ve missed your pussy.”

“missed y’too,” you whimper, backing your hips up against her face. “thought of you every night, wish you’d—” you cut off with a sharp gasp as she runs a flat stripe up from your hole to your clit. the customary “fuck,” comes out with a shudder.

“wish i’d what, hm?” she hums into your cunt, latching her lips along the weeping mess of your cunt. “honestly, i could just— fuck, i could just breathe you in.”

you feel the steady rise and fall of her breath against you and you whine, “kaina, ‘ts cold, cold.”

“answer me.” she punctuates her command with a tight smack over your clit and you jerk in surprise, squirming under her grip. “wish i’d what, baby?”

you huff, a breath lost between your lungs and your throat. “wish, w-wish,” you muster all you can to answer her but it just won’t come out, not with her stiff tongue drawing circles around the sensitive bud of your clit, fingers rubbing your thighs soothingly. “wish you’d s-stay.”

if you catch the way she tenses you don’t bring it up. her shoulders stiffen and her grip on you gets ever tighter. “wish i’d stay, huh? needy, clingy little girl?” deflecting, evading. all she’s ever known, never one to let herself get tied down to one single person. it’s all kaina’s known, the fastest way to escape, how to fit herself in the grooves of the world just right so she can slip right out. she’d be lying if she said you didn’t soften her, mellow her down enough to get her into your bed, but the tendency remained.

was it enough to lie for the night?

but you beg so sweet, tantalising cherry on your tongue. you command her, you rear your weapon against the tirade of her resistance. you make her feet heavy-laden, sinking into the hardwood floors, tired and guilty with the stench of abandoning you. it hurts, pierces her where she wishes she couldn’t feel, to see you unwrapped and vulnerable in front of her. to know that you trust her, love her even, and she’s thinking of leaving.

could the truth just be denied for the rest of time?

“please,” you’re begging as she keeps her tongue on you, fingers teasing your inner thighs. “please, don’t leave. stay.”

she needs you to shut up. to be quiet. so she sucks harshly on your clit until you’re crying, whimpering pathetically, melting right into the palm of her hand. she gasps when you clench hard, gushing without so much as a “cumming, c-cumming!”.

“there we go,” she coos, rubbing a finger along your clit to ease you through your orgasm. you’re glassy-eyed, peering down at her, hands flexing and reaching for her. “feel good?”

you hum, nodding shakily. “c-can you,” you breathe through words. it’s hard to find your tongue. “kaina, can you c’mere?”

why does she obey? why can’t she find it in herself to step back, to wipe the slick and drool off her chin and vanish into the twilight, just as she’s done every week since you met? maybe it’s the look of pure loyalty in your eyes, glimmering gold under your heavy eyelids. maybe it’s the whipping wind in your voice, icy yet melodic, calling her name. kaina. kaina. kaina. how long has it been since she’d heard it?

and how long has it been since she’d responded to it?

kaina shuffles forward on her knees, hovering above you. “‘m here,” she whispers, lowering herself down so her forehead presses to yours. “‘m here, okay?”

she fingers you to the edge of your sanity after that, watches you in silent horror and wonder as you cum, thrash under the weight of her gaze. she begins to feel, for the first time in her life, the need to stay. the desire to curl up next to your heaving body as you come around from your orgasm, and hold you. to ignore the mission before her, and the war behind her.

(it remains a desire, one she never sought after, and one she never dared to give up on.)

“stay,” kaina hears you whisper as you drift off to sleep. your eyelids are drooping, the torrent of the night finally catching up to you. she thinks it’s over, the navy skies pulling streaks of grey through the horizon, detailing the start of her work. until she moves to leave, and your hand, half asleep, grips hers. “i love you, kai.” you mumble.

(in the morning, you won’t remember you said that. in the morning, you’ll wake up alone, and wonder if the night was a dream. all that remains of kaina is the bruises she painted into your skin.

in the morning, you won’t know that she cried, over you, over this. over your slumbering body, knowing that she could never bring you into her world. knowing that she could never cross into yours. you won’t know how she stayed until the last second, wanting so badly to stay.

you won’t know that in her mind, she gave up.

you only realise when you never see her again.)

[twindevilgang]

Hi do you mind if i request kakucho,sanzu and rindou with fem wife reader who's also bonten no.2 and love fighting with strong people kinda like Hibari from Reborn please? Have nice day ^ ^

Thanks for your request! I haven’t actually watched reborn yet! But I hope it comes to your liking

S/O in Bonten

Characters:Rindou Haitani, Sanzu haruchiyo, kakucho Hitto,

Warning: slight cursing, blood, guns, drugs

Rindou haitani

Now Rindou was a little scarred of you when he first meet you ngl

But then he sees you beating the living shit out of a gang leader it’s like love at first sight to him. Rest is history’s for there

Married now in bonten with your precious husband

He hates the fact that you share the same level with sanzu. Hates sanzu for it

Sanzu spends more time with his own wife then he does. It’s crazy

He also hates the fact that you always pick stupid fights with people much much bigger than you

You’re giving this poor man grey hairs because of it honestly. pretty sure you gave him a heart attack one time because he thought you died when you didn’t come home on time

But that’s ok Bc Ran reminds him how much you like to play dirty with people who are much stronger then you which would result in a victory

“Y/n-baby, cmon we have to go before the police show up!”

“But rin i was about to win!”

“We Can look for him later that way you can finish him off. Let go now!”

“Ugh fine!”

Patches you up after big fights you take on your own

But hates it when you mess around with his executives. Feels like they might actually kill you

Sanzu haruchiyo

Love at first sight with you😭

Lives that fact that your bontens no.2 with him because it means he gets to spend his time with you. His lovely and strong wife.

You don’t really like to work with anyone unless it’s your husband.

He’s like your personal ecstasy when working with him.

He may not show it but he’s really worried for you sometimes because you use yourself as bait when fighting stronger people

Like the one time when you two were assigned in getting rid of a men who became a traitor in bonten it was kinda difficult because it was surrounded by lots of people.

He doesn’t remember what you did but you came back dragging the unconscious men by the leg all bloody, scratched and slightly bruised all smiley and shit like it was normal

And it was. It was normal to you😭

He panic telling his men to get the men while he carried you to the car as if you’re legs were broken.

You laughed and told him not to worry about it and that you were just fine

He took you to his little personal doctor to make sure you were ok

“You’re fucking crazy Sweetcheeks”

“As if you’re one to talk. You love it when I’m crazy anyway”

“Damn right I do”

The opposite of Rindou when you mess around with his executives. Joins in on the fun

Might be high doing it too

Just don’t mess with Mikey please

Kakucho Hitto

Hated that you mess around with people bigger then you. Hates It with a passion 😭

Since you’re Bontens No.2 you get stuck with sanzu a lot when Mikey assigns you missions.

He’s scared the entire time you are gone because he’s not there to look after you.

AND because you’re with Sanzu the entire time. Anything can happen when you two are together Because you two are just like each other and it Scares him to death.

He’s literally pacing around his office until until sanzu barges hi. Bloody and scratched. The same with you.

You’re literally unconscious on Sanzu back bloody and scratched too.

Has a heart attack honestly and feels like crying until sanzu tells him you’re just knocked out, sleeping😭

Just like Rindou you’re giving this men grey hairs and a heart attack every single day.

He patches you up and waits until you wake up so he can scold you about doing reckless things during a mission especially with sanzu.

“Seriously. You have to stop doing stuff like this. You’ll end up dead one day. Don’t want you dying with that damn drug addict”

“I’m immortal love nothing would very happen to me!”

“Yeah okay what ever you say”

Has you do a drug test every time just to make sure sanzu didn’t give you any because you could never know 🤷‍♀️.