#yes I am mad at my own scenerio

[waddiwasu-sonic]

"Mr. Sonic please look at the camera"

PLEASE TELL ME SOMEONE KNOWS WHAT I'M REFERENCING HERE

I SHOWED IT TO MY FRIENDS AND THEY DIDN'T KNOWWWW

N' N' SUDDENLY I FEEL LIKE-

Anyway, Idc that trends speedrun af these days, I love those silly ships as memes, I love characters as vines, I love animation memes

#BE FREE BE CRINGE

[saudade-mayari]

💜 could have a Shino or Shikamaru (whichever ur more comfortable with) x reader scenerio? NSFW with a tiny bit of angst? Maybe something happened on a mission where one of the two almost died and then they get into some kinda fight and then it ends with some good ol love making or roughness (again, whichever ur comfortable with)

Insane

♞ Warnings: Shikamaru x fem! reader, 18+ content, oral and unprotected sex, cursing, nsfw, minors dni

Shikamaru slammed his sleeping bag at the side, his eyes full of anger and hate, his dark almond orbs glaring at you and every dark gaze of this man intimidated you. You were at fault, you never followed his instructions but you only did it out of reflexes and at the very least both of you barely finished the mission successfully.

“Listen here Nara. Is this your fucking way of saying thank you I saved your ass from the enemy?!”

“I clearly told you to follow my mark!”

Veins from the side of his forehead are seemingly visible already. What you did was reckless, out of the bounds and it almost caused you death if it weren’t for his shadow manipulation ninjutsu but your point is you saved his life first and now he is being a jerk. From the opposite side of his direction, you marched your way towards his area and you started pointing his Konoha flak jacket with much pressure slightly pushing him at the back.

“I know your great master plans and your mark. You were in danger, what am I supposed to do?! Watch you get killed in action?! Are you fucking stupid Nara Shikamaru?!”

“It was a clone! If I haven’t dragged you away with my shadows you’d be good as dead. I am your captain in this mission y/n not your boyfriend!!”

The tears you were suppressing out of pure anger and concern slowly fell down to your cheeks. Words echoed in the forest. The tension building up as the horrifying feeling came back while trying to save your boyfriend from danger.

“If you had told me your whole plan then I would have known what you’re actually planning, you fucking stupid jerk.”

Shikamaru never answered as more tears flowed in your cheeks. Your grip in his Konoha flak jacket almost crumpled as you pushed him at the tree trunk.

“Don’t you trust me with your plans?! You and your captain shenanigans are nothing but a complete bullshit! You think I’d watch my boyfriend almost get killed because I need to follow my captain’s order?! Are you fucking insane?!”

His reflexes pushed and pegged down in his sleeping bag. Shikamaru pinned your wrist above your head as he looked at you in the eyes still filled with anger, annoyance and somehow lust.

“Yes i’m insane, madly insane. They are targeting you, they wanted you and am I supposed to freely let them see you?! No y/n. That’s just stupid.”

His voice toned down but the intensity of his voice is still hard. He’s still mad but your eyes widened when Shikamaru started kissing you aggressively, giving hard and deep bites of your lower lip while his hands unzipped your Konoha flak jacket and destroyed the buttons of your shirt.

“Shikamaru what the fuck-”

“Shut up. I’m still mad, real mad, you’ve been cursing a lot and I’m going to make sure you feel that fucking you’ve been shouting.”

He unzipped his own flak jacket to press his body to yours, you felt his hardened shaft and every touch of Shikamaru is filled with aggressiveness and pressure. His hands landed to your pants and undies, pulling it down to rub your bare femininity. You gave out a soft moan when his lips started working for your core while his finger pushed inside and out. You didn’t care already if someone would see you in the forest, you moaned louder, your legs constricting by the pleasure his fingers and tongue are giving but to all your annoyance he pulled himself away and watched you gave out a desperate grunt.

“You want a release? No. You’ve been a bad woman to your captain.”

“Please I’m sorry, Shika.”

He never answered, attempting to give back your pants and clothes but his tracks stopped when you palmed his bulge. You started pulling it down to his ankles, looking at him like some wild animal trying to eye its prey and as soon as you saw his hard on sprang up, you started stroking it.

“I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

You started sucking his full length. Going up and down as you looked at his almond eyes now filled with lust. His hand reached your neck and tightened it’s grip on your hair at the nape as he pressed his cock further to your hot and wet mouth.

Soon enough he purposely pulled you off from his cock, he aggressively laid you down. Sweat from his forehead coming out while looking at you with those dark almond eyes and without any hesitation he pushed inside your core.

“When I say listen to your captain, listen. You’re making me mad y/n.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

His cock went in and out, your walls welcoming him hot and wet. Your head rested on his shoulders while your hands scratched his back, he’s never been this rough and each pound inside you were all aggressive.

“Say my name.”

“S-shika.. fuck.”

The way he slowed down his pace was frustrating, intentionally giving you some edging and teasing. You tried to pull him towards you but his body did the complete opposite, he bit your neck and left a love mark on it.

“Louder y/n or I’ll stop.”

“Shikamaru, fuck me please!”

So he did, all he ever wanted is for you to moan his name. The way both of you had screamed and praised each other was it’s as if you are not in the forest, but you didn’t care already the pleasure was unbearable and the aftermath felt so satisfying.

He placed a kiss on your forehead as he cleaned the release both of you did in his sleeping mat.

“Don’t do that again y/n, I’ll go real insane if something happens to you.”

Send in your req! Click here to join our event!

[myonepiece]

Hello love! This is my first ask hehe. Can I please request some Shanks, Ace, and Benn headcanons (or scenerio, whichever u are more comfortable with!) of their fem!S/O dying on the battlefield? Love your works btw💕💕! Thanks in advance!! :)

yes 😩 death angst 😩

I will put this here... it’s Shanks, Ace, and Kid dying on the battle field and their last thoughts of s/o :3 just if you feel like crying more

I cried like 6 times writing these

TW- death, angst

Shanks, Ace, Benn seeing their fem!s/o die on the battlefield 

told in character’s point of view

-through the groups of pirates fighting, through all of the blood, through all of the smoke and sword clashes, how did I manage to see the exact moment a gun was held to your head and the trigger was pulled

-a spout of dark liquid came from your head that felt like it drowned even from so far away and so little in content

-you fell back onto the ground and the crew members that had seen the event looked to me, but I only turned away 

-when the fight was over I went back towards the boat I was grinning, because I wasn’t mad you had died

-some of the crew members however began to tear up, it was nice to see they cared so much about you as well

-Yasopp ran to me and grabbed my collar, I told him to let go, he didn’t seem to have the same outlook on your death

-if there’s one thing that was bothering me, it was the question of why I had to see your demise

-why... why had I been able to see that moment. I wish I hadn’t, I think I would have much rather lived in a blissful denial telling myself you were off on your own journey and you would return soon

-maybe I would’ve been better off telling myself you are somewhere in the world and I just have to find you

-I guess you are on your own voyage somewhere, maybe with another crew, maybe with another captain

-is it fun?

-you wanna know why I’m not crying, why I’m not breaking down like I always had thought I would?

-it’s because in the moment when I almost ran to you, when I. almost gave in and crashed to the floor, it was like I had heard an angel whisper to me- she said she’d keep you safe

-that you’ll be okay

-she said your time with me is over

-and I didn’t want to ruin your departure with my own selfishness

-I hope you’ve had a good time with me _____, I hope you’re as free as you were here

-Thatch brought me over to the crew after the battle, everyone is grouped in a circle, it’s almost like someone die- oh

-Marco was kneeling beside you with his hands on fire, but his powers didn’t seem to be working because you still weren’t moving

-you were already dead when I got there.. I couldn’t even say goodbye

-I scoffed in disbelief, anger, sadness-I don’t fucking know. Marco looked up at me with slightly teary eyes and he shook his head

-I choked out a sob and ran towards you, could you hear me? I took you in my arms and shook you because usually that works but you didn’t do anything. you felt so cold I tried to warm you up but maybe my emotions were too crazy because the flames burned you... could you feel that too?

-no one told me who killed you even when I pounced on Marco and threatened him, I swear I would’ve made him pay 

-Whitebeard pushed me away

-it’s fucked up world where the innocent ones like you are the ones to die first, when their are so many horrible people out there, maybe it was that you were too innocent, maybe you had to leave before that innocence was corrupted

-if that’s the case then I guess I should be thankful, but I can’t be

-I’m sorry I’m not all, “oh _____ is in a better place now” but you’re not in a better place!

-a better place would be with me! or maybe a better place would be with you. a better place is just wherever you and I are together, so where am I supposed to go when that place doesn’t even exist 

-y’know I always wanted you to die first so you wouldn’t have to go through the pain of my death, I just might have underestimated how painful this would be

-I’m not saying I would rather I die before you because I love you too much to put you through this.. or loved you? is that what I’m supposed to say now? why didn’t you just stick around long enough to tell me what to do?

-you never said “I’m leaving” and you never said “goodbye”, you left before I had the chance to tell you how much I love you and how much you’ve helped me

-but without you here it’s like none of that matters, like you gave up on me

-and for that, I hate you 

-usually when Shanks calls me over it’s not a very serious matter, and it’s usually not after a battle because he can his own

-but he called me over once the smoke was beginning to clear and something about the way he said my name made me unnerved

-you’re never ready to see someone you love dead, even when I’ve been a pirate for years it was... scary. maybe the fact that you were still breathing is what made it even scarier

-I didn’t want to tell you it would be okay, I’ve never liked lying to you. and you seemed to know it wasn’t okay. maybe it was the tears brimming in my eyes that told you the truth, maybe it was my shaking hold when I took you from Shanks’ arms and cradled you against my chest

-it all felt so slow, watching the crew walk away with their heads hanging low, the feeling of your hand grabbing mine

-I’ve always been... okay with words of love, but now I love you seems futile. I still said it though, I wonder if you heard it

-your eyes were wandering everywhere I wasn’t sure if you could comprehend. anything

-when your hand fell from my cheek I kissed your forehead one last time and layed down on the ground, I put my cape over you just in case it got cold, you always loved huddling in my cape 

-I think the hardest part of ‘moving on’ will be trying to recover the part of me you took

-it was like you added a second heart that only beat for you, but it’s not slowing  down, because I sure as hell still love you

-it’s just.. going to be a little while before we see each other again

-I know that there is nothing that could be done to save you, but I still have to wish you could have stayed

-I think the hardest part of this is that I know our story wasn’t finished 

[starylust]

Katsuki, Shut Up☾

✧B A K U G O U   K A T S U K I✧

genre: fluff

WORD COUNT:1103

Coming back to the dorms after a long day of training a nap was exactly what you needed. Thinking peace and quiet would fill the room Bakugou had different plans as he didn’t intend to have a nap. Getting frustrated you call him a name he does not like and he is not going to forgive you so easily. . .

Your eyes started to droop as you were getting comfy in this bed.

This nap was exactly what you needed after a long day of training.

You were starting to fall asleep as you jumped up hearing a loud scream coming from the other side of the room.

Your eyes moved over to the figure sitting with a headset on yelling at the computer. A groan escaped your lips as you laid back down.

Once again you began falling asleep as another scream launched from the boys mouth. This time scaring you so much your heart rate began to pick up.

"Katsuki, please shut up," you said quietly covering your head and body with the heavy dark blue blanket placed on the bed.

Once more you started falling asleep having a nice dream.

The tiny ocean waves sitting the sand while the sun beamed brightly down onto you. Smiling at the view everything started to go black.

You took a deep breathe in trying to calm yourself down from the shock that woke you up from yourself.

The irritation in your body began rising as all you wanted was to have a good nap before completing more school work.

Taking your legs out from under the covers you swung them to hang off the bed. You started stomping to where bakugou was sitting.

Looking at him sitting in his chair while his eyes scanned the screen you yanked his headset off his head.

"Dude, I'm gonna tell you this one more time. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." You placed the headset down onto the table and started walking back towards the bed.

"Oi, what did you just say?" You heard him hiss behind you.

You turned around and stared at him. "Katsuki I said shut the fuck up. I'm trying to sleep while your dumbass keeps yelling at who knows what."

"No no that's not what you called me earlier. You called me dude." He said with a face that showed disgust.

"Bakugou I don't care as long as you just shut up and let me take this damn nap." Turning around once more you started heading towards the bed.

You felt fingers wrap around your wrist that tugged you a bit. Turning your head to see his face, "what?" You asked with attitude.

When he didn't answer you turned your whole body around and saw him just staring at the floor.

You were about to bring your hand up to his face to tilt it up as it began lifting it up by itself.

With a confused look on your face you saw a slight smirk on his. He bent down a little bit and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Huh?" You mumbled quietly. The grip around your waist began to tighten as the seconds went by.

Your eyes widened as your body began to lift off the floor. One second you were on the floor the next your stomach laid onto Bakugou's stomach.

Half of your body touching his back while the other was on this front. "Babe let me down," you whined.

"Tch," was all you got back. Bakugou started walking towards the bed while still carrying you over his shoulder.

Before you knew it you felt a gush of wind hit your hit your face. Your back met the blanket covered bed as you bounced onto it.

"Uh what are you doing?"

Before you knew it bakugou hovered over you with now a big smirk on his face. Your eyes roamed around the room as his face started getting closer to his.

You felt soft lips peck your forehead lightly. The temperature in your cheeks began to rise at his sudden action.

Before you could say anything bakugou's fingers started tickle your stomach.

You started laughing like crazy and started swarming around.

"K-KATS~ ST-TOP," you kept being cut off by your own laughter.

"Say sorry," Bakugou said as he kept tickling you. You tried opening your mouth to speak once more but nothing but giggles came out.

Bakugou kept tickling you as your laughter made him laugh just a tiny bit.

He stopped tickling you for a bit looking down at you trying to catch your breath.

"Are you sorry now?" You gave him a confused look as to what he was talking but then remembered a second later.

"I'm sorry for telling you to shut the fuck up." You said mumbling a bit.

"Nope. That's not why you should be sorry, to be honest I could care less about that."

Once again giving him a even more confused look you started thinking.

"Wait why am I saying sorry then?" You questioning him.

"You called me dude. D-U-D-E. What the hell I'm not your 'bro' I'm your boyfriend!" He said in a whiny but grumpy voice.

Staring at him a bit you started bursting out laughing.

"HUH DUMBASS WHAT'S SO FUNNY?" He yelled.

"That's what made you tickle me?"

"Yes dumbass why would you call me dude," Bakugou answered in a childish whiny voice.

"Aw come here you big baby," you said while lifting up your arms wanted him to lay on top of you.

He grunted but then accepted the offer.

"I love you," you whispered in his ear.

Bakugou felt his cheeks reddened at the sudden affection you gave him.

"Tch I love you too dumbass." He whispered back.

Your arms that were on his waist tightened as you snuggled your head into his soft fluffy hair.

You felt his head cram itself into your neck making you giggle slightly. Taking a deep breathe in you could smell his shampoo.

You guys stayed like this for a couple of minutes before hearing a faint hello.

"Uh hello? Bakugou?" You lifted your head quickly making Bakugou groaned.

"Why did you do that?" He said in a raspy tired voice.

"Katsuki I heard someone say hello, but there isn't anyone else in the room."

Bakugou's eyes widened as he realized he never turned off his game.

"Shit," he breathed out.

Staying on the bed you saw him heading over back to his desk placing the headset back on.

"Oi shitty hair what?"

"Bakugou~ who knew you were such a softie hm?"

"Tch shut up I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh really? Cause Kaminari and I heard everything. You little softie getting mad that you got called dude," Kirishima said in a teasing tone.

"SHUT UP!"

"Babe who are you talking to," you said approaching him from behind.

"Hm no one just some idiots." After that he shut down his PC and took off the headset.

Standing behind his chair you watched as he walked to his bed and plopped onto it. He held out his arms as you once did before.

"Are we taking a nap or what?"

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

I decided that im gonna put this one on tumblr instead since i dont have many ideas for the my hero character and scenerios! but i would love if you left ideas in the comments and ill continue writing the mha one shots on here and the haikyuu one shots on my wattpad:)

~𝓶ღ

[ordinaryschmuck]

More of Luz is More to Love

Me and my buddy @l-egionaire write a lot of weird stuff together. The following is a fun scenerio that I just had to share with you

But just so you know, it gets LOOOOOOOOONG.

(l-egionaire) Here's an idea: Amity tries to train herself to not be all flustered and jelly legged from Luz showing her affection. It goes.....not great for her.

(Me) I picture her doing this with a Luz-shaped abomination

(l-egionaire) Go on.

Luz-ination: Grumbles and mumbles a compliment. 

 Amity: Oh, Luz. How nice of you to notice. 

Luz-ination: Bubbles 

Amity: You really do have a way with words.

(l-egionaire) Unfortunately, even the abomination Luz ends up fluttering her.

Luz-ination: Mumbles and gurgles. 

Amity: That's, uh, wow. I, uh, didn't know you thought that way...

Luz-ination: Braah!

Amity: I-uh-wow-um.

(Me) It'd get worse if the Luz-ination actually fell in love with Amity.

(l-egionaire) And it doesn't dissipated. So it just follows her everywhere and tries to hug and kiss her

Luz: You're new abomination...Looks friendly...and also familiar. Amity: Yeah! How funny is that?!

(l-egionaire) Eventually Amity's forced to admit the truth.

Amity: So, um, I was sort of using this abomination that looks like you--Luz-ination--to...practice not getting flustered.

Luz: And how did that turn out?

Amity: Not great. Not only does she make me flustered anyway, but she also fell in love with me.

Luz: What?!

Amity: I know. I'm sorry-

Luz: No one makes a move on my girl!

Amity: What?

Luz-ination: *Gurgles a threat*

Luz: Oh, yeah? Bring it!

The two start to Brawl.

Amity:.......Huh.

Willow: You're enjoying this, aren't you?

Amity: Maybe a little bit. But is that so--

Willow: Yes...it's incredibly wrong.

(l-egionaire) Of course Luz emerges the Victor.

Amity: Sorry about the whole...making a copy of you thing.

Luz: Eh. It's the weirdest magical clone thing I've ever dealt with. But I'm glad she's gone.

Amity: Me too. I only need one Luz.

Luz: Amity, no offense, but I don't think you could handle if there were two of me

Amity: ...Yeah, you're right.

(l-egionaire) Related to that, one day, while playing against each other in a friendly grudgeby game with Willow on one side and Amity on the other, Willow pulls a trick.

Willow: Sorry in advance for this!

She makes a spell circle and creates a bunch of Luz illusion clones around Amity.

Willow: Little trick Gus taught me.

Amity immediately flushes.

Amity: This-this isn't going to work Willow.

Willow: Oh really?

She waves a hand and immediately all the Luz clones come up and start complimenting Amity.

Amity: I-this wont-

Luz #1: I love your eyes!

Luz #2: Your hair is soft to the touch.

Luz #3: I hope to marry you one day.

Luz #4: Can I kiss you?

Luz #5: Can I kiss you?

Luz #6: You're so adorable.

Luz #7: I'm lucky to have a girlfriend like you.

Amity trembles, overwhelmed by the barrage of Luz. 

Willow: Just one more push. 

She makes another spell circle and the Luz's closest to Amity all kiss her on the cheek.

(Me)And Amity faints because of it.

(l-egionaire)Yep.

(Me) Afterwards 

Amity: TEACH ME HOW TO MAKE ILLUSIONS!

Ed and Em: ...Alright.

Em: Wait. Illusions of what? You need to be specific when making them you know.

Amity: ...A person

Em:.....Its Luz isn't it?

Amity: ....Yes.

(l-egionaire)You go on.

Em: And you don't think that making clones of your girlfriend is a little creepy. 

 Amity: She didn't mind the first one. 

Em: 

Amity: Don't ask.

Em: Why exactly do you need Luz Clones? You can barely handle the real one you have.

Amity: ...more of her makes me feel special...

Em:.......

Amity: You weren't me when Willow sent a barrage of Luz clones upon me! You don't know what it's like!

Em:...........

Amity: Are you going to teach me or not!?

Em:......I'm going to say no. I don't know if you should be using illusion magic for something that...

Amity: I'll tell you three embarrassing secrets from my diary

Em: Ten

Amity: Five

Em: Ten

Amity: SEVEN!

Em: ...Alright, I'll teach you. 

(l-egionaire) So what does Amity do with this newfound knowledge.

(Me)Recreate what happened at the grudgby field, for one

(l-egionaire)A crowd of Luz's all complimenting her? 

Amity: I'm in heaven. 

(Me) I'd imagine that it actually does get her use to Luz's compliments and affection. One Luz is pretty tame to ten

(l-egionaireIt) would be violently embarrassing to her if Luz walked in on this though.

Luz:

Amity:

Luz #13: Hi, I'm Luz.

Luz #17: So am I.

Luz #25: And me.

Luz #4: What's your name?

Luz: ....Amity?

Amity: I can explain.

Luz: Okay

Luz: Could you also explain the outfits?

Amity looks around at her Luzs wearing cheerleaders' outfits while she's in her grudgby uniform.

Amity: ...I was trying to recreate something.

Luz:......?

Amity: ...I just wanted to stop being flustered around you, so I've surrounded myself with...you.

Luz #17: The wasn't the only reason.

Amity: Shh! Quiet #17.

Luz: A) what was the other reason? B)....You gave them numbers?

Amity: It was easy to keep track of them.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Luz: What was the other reason?

Amity: ....>Mumbles something<

Luz: What?

Amity: I said I like having more of you!

Luz:......Oh.

she blushes.

Luz: You, uh, you really like me, huh.

Luz #23: Obviously she does, dumb-dumb.

Amity: #23! Sorry, she's a straight shooter.

Luz #23: And her favorite.

Amity: That's not true. That is not true!

Luz smiles. She turns to the crowd of Luz's

Luz: Well girls....thanks for helping with her issue I guess. And for....giving her extra me time.

Luz #8: No problem #1!

Luz: ...I'm not a clone.

Luz #28: No, but she always said you were her #1 Luz

Luz smirks

Luz: Oh really?

Amity blushes and rubs the back of her head.

Amity: Thanks a lot #28

Luz: Ok, I have to ask, how can you tell the difference?

(l-egionaire) You go on.

Amity: They've grown their own personalities.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Amity: Who also only says one sentence.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Luz: Aww. She's like a big action figure.

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

Amity: She said thank you.

Luz: Still....to be your number #1 Luz even with all these other ones... 

Amity: You'll always be number one to me

Luzs: Aw...

Luz #5: Gross!

Amity: Ignore her. She's the grumpy one.

Amity: So...you're not mad?

Luz: Of course not! I get why you did this. Besides, its kind of sweet you'd still love me even if I was a crowd. Though I am surprised you could handle this many of me.

Amity: Eh. It got easier over time...It got easier over time. Haha! I don't get flustered from you anymore!

Luz: Oh really?

Luz calls to the other Luz's and they all huddle and whisper to each other. Then they all form a circle around Amity and each Luz, including the real one, comes forward and kisses Amity.

Amity's face is completely red.

Luz: Still not so flustered?

Amity:

Luz: ...Amity?

Amity falls face forward.

Luz: Amity!

Luz #16: I'm the spunky one!

(And believe me when I say that this isn’t even the weirdest thing we’ve made.

[cha-melodius]

The Definition of Madness Chapter 6

Whumptober No. 27: Power Outage

Fandom: The Man from UNCLE (2015)

Pairings: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin, Napoleon Solo & Illya Kuryakin & Gaby Teller

Summary: They say the definition of madness is doing the same thing and expecting a different result.

Or, Illya gets stuck in a very whumpy time loop.

Ao3 Link

Ahhh I’m late on this one, but it’s double length, so hoepfully that makes up for it.

*****

Previous Chapter

Illya does not immediately act on his newfound knowledge. It’s both difficult and easy to convince himself to focus on the mission, because although he really wants nothing more than to take a break—he’s been running this op for nearly a month at this point, after all—and take some time to think about whatever this thing is between him and Napoelon, he knows the best way to do that is to end this. Taking ‘rest days’ at the safehouse only goes so far when they’re guaranteed to always end in disaster. Most of the loops still feature one or both of his partners’ deaths, and it never gets any easier to deal with.

So he tries to push the feelings back out of his mind and focus on what he needs to do instead of what he wants. What he needs to be doing is learning more about their targets and trying to come up with some way of finally ending all of this. After all, he is still far behind his adversary in the number of loops he’s had to figure this out. As far as he knows, there are at least twenty more traps they haven’t discovered yet. He likes to think that he won’t need that many more loops to gain the upper hand, but after a few more tries, he finally realizes what he’s missing.

The mysterious man in charge said it himself: it was their team that outsmarted him so many times. Illya is good, but the team is better, and he needs his partners if he’s going to do this. Needs them to really understand the problem at hand. Which is, to put it mildly, difficult when they forget everything each reset. He hadn’t really tried to explain the situation past his first attempt, but now he knows he’s going to have to.

It takes another three loops before he hits on the right combination of uncanny knowledge, plausible explanations, and entreaties to just trust him. Even then his partners don’t look totally convinced, but they do become more willing to play along. And then, on the fourth loop, he somewhat accidentally discovers a completely unexpected and surprisingly effective way of convincing Napoleon, at the very least.

“So wait, how many loops has it been? Twenty-five?” Napoleon asks, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the counter in the kitchen. He’s wearing a look that’s unmistakably skeptical but also like he’s trying to be open minded, and Illya really does appreciate the effort.

Illya nods. “Approximately.”

“And we never remember anything?” “I think the fact that you are asking that question is answer enough, no?” Illya replies, arcing an eyebrow at him.

“I guess so,” Napoleon allows. He stares at Illya for a long moment, critical and considering, and Illya has a brief uncomfortable feeling that something about his bearing has changed. Honestly he would be surprised if it hadn’t, what with all he’s been through, but now suddenly it feels like Napoleon can sense exactly what it is.

“And all the loops are pretty much the same?” Napoleon asks. Illya hesistates. In his debriefs he tends to talk only about their attempts on the compound, forgoing much information on the days they’ve stayed at the safehouse. Partly because not much of what happened during them is particularly relevant to the mission, and partly because of the can of worms it threatens to open inside him if he spends too much time thinking about them. But this is the first time Napoleon has directly asked, and something in him pushes him to talk about it.

“Not entirely,” he says cagily. “We’ve stayed back here a couple of times, when my lingering injuries were too severe.”

“How did those days end?”

Illya frowns. “Poorly. The oven is somehow rigged to blow, as is the fireplace. Probably more places, too.”

Napoleon is silent again as he seems to absorb this information. “You really die at the end of every day?” “You do too, on most of them.”

Napoleon winces at that, but Illya knows he’s not thinking about his own deaths, not really. He’s putting himself in Illya’s shoes, imagining what it would be like. “I don’t know how you can take it, Peril.”

“No choice,” Illya mutters.

“Yeah, I get that, it’s just… watching you die, over and over again—” Napoleon’s words bite off as he looks at the ground, and it’s clear that the emotions he keeps so carefully guarded are threatening to escape again.

Illya takes a few steps forward, bringing him within arm’s reach of Napoleon, and it makes his partner look up at him with wide eyes. Eyes full of an emotion that Illya can quite easily read, now. Probably he shouldn’t say anything, but then again, why not? Napoleon won’t remember any of it tomorrow. Which is painful in its own way, but at least Illya knows that if things go poorly, he has another shot.

“The day the oven blew,” he says quietly, “you were dying in my arms. You said… you said you wanted to tell me something. Said you were too much of a coward to tell me before.”

“Did I?” Napoleon whispers, looking somewhat stricken. “Did I… tell you?” Illya shakes his head gently. “No. Didn’t get a chance.” “Oh. Good,” he says, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief. “I mean, not good, really, but I don’t know what I was going to say—”

“I know, Cowboy,” Illya interrupts.

He reaches forward to take Napoleon’s hand, lacing their fingers togther like he’s wanted to do for days now, and suddenly trying to suppress this just feels stupid. Napoleon’s palm is sweaty in his panic, but it doesn’t matter, because his hand is so right in Illya’s. He can’t quite stop a tiny smile from curling the corners of his mouth.

“Y–you do?” Napoleon stammers, his blue eyes wide with disbelief and fear and unmistakable hope.

Illya nods and leans forward to press his lips to Napoleon’s. It causes his partner to stiffen in surprise for a fleeting moment, but then he rapidly seems to melt, lips parting when Illya brings his other hand up to cup Napoleon’s jaw and slides his tongue along his bottom lip. With a slight tip of his head, Illya fits their mouths perfectly together, then smiles into the kiss when the movement elicits a tiny noise of pleasure from Napoleon.

The last few days Illya had, perhaps unsurprisingly, imagined various scenerios in which he’d lost his carefully maintained control and ended up kissing Napoleon during a loop, but most of them had been a desperate crush of lips as one of them was dying, tinged with blood and sorrow. Certainly none of them had been like this, gentle and unhurried, Napoleon almost trembling in his arms with the pure emotion of it.

When they eventually part Napoleon is flushed and breathing hard, and who would have believed that, of the two of them, he would be the one so flustered by this development? Illya gives his hand a small squeeze and receives one in return, and then Napoleon’s mouth splits into a wide grin.

“Is that—” he starts, breaking off with a huffed laugh. “Is that the first time we’ve… done that?” “Yes,” Illya answers as he brushes his thumb lightly over Napoleon’s cheek. “First time.” “So, uh, how did you know, if I— if I didn’t say anything that day…” Illya bites his lower lip against the smug smile he knows is fighting its way onto his face. “One loop, I was sick. Recovering from a concussion, actually, but you didn’t know that. You made me your grandmother’s soup.” “Oh,” Napoleon breathes, flushing red again. “I see. Told you all about it, then?” “Mmhm,” Illya hums.

Napoleon drops his eyes again, muttering under his breath. “Real smooth, Napoleon.”

“I’m glad you did,” Illya tells him. He nudges Napoleon’s chin up until his partner meets his eyes. “And not just because the soup was delicious.”

Napoleon laughs, then, and shakes his head lightly. “I gotta tell you, hearing that is almost more convincing than anything else you’ve said today, because there’s no way you could know about that or… or what it means. But you do. It’s insane, but somehow you do.”

“You really believe me now?” “Yeah, Peril,” Napoleons says sincerely. “I believe you.” Then his lips curl into a mischevious grin. “You know, just a suggestion for the future, but you could maybe lead with that—”

Illya cuts him off with another long, lingering kiss before he pulls back again. “You’re just saying that so you get kissed earlier in the day,” he accuses.

“So what if I am? I think I’m allowed to look out for my future self. Or is it past self? I have to say, this is all very confusing, Peril.”

Illya sighs. “Tell me about it.”

Napoleon might have a point, though.

*****

Turns out, the fastest and most convincing way to introduce the concept of his looping days to his partner is to walk into the kitchen, grab Napoleon’s hand before he burns it on the hot pan, and pull him into a vigorous kiss. Every time, Napoleon freezes in pure shock for what should be a surprisingly short amount of time before he just… goes with it, opening up and chasing Illya’s mouth with no small amount of enthusiasm. It would be almost comical, especially after the whole thing has been repeated several times, if it didn’t make Illya’s heart thunder in his chest every. damn. time.

Sure, it confuses the hell out of Napoleon, but he’s far more ready to believe that Illya is actually repeating the day when Illya knows just how to kiss him in a way that makes his toes curl (his words). By the time Gaby is awake, Napoleon is already completely in his corner, which makes convincing her a lot easier too.

And hell, it’s not a bad way to start the day, especially if you’re going to have to start the same one over and over again.

Unfortunately, that is typically where the romance starts and ends for them on any given day. That’s not to say that they don’t steal kisses during the rare quiet moments, and Gaby is pretty much guaranteed to roll her eyes and throw pebbles at them on the hike up the mountain. But the days are still packed with trying to figure out how to evade the traps and take out their targets, and if Illya sometimes feels like taking a break all he has to do is picture any one of his partners’ myriad deaths.

One morning, they’re all hunched around the map of the compound, watching as Illya adds every trap that they’ve managed to trigger so far to it, as he does every day. He talks through everything he knows, and everything they’ve tried. So far the door he’d found on his solo jaunt remains unopened; even when they’ve successfully gotten there a few times, they’ve always been ambushed before Napoleon could figure out how to open it.

“What about the power?” Gaby asks as she stares pensively down the map. “Have we tried taking it out?”

Illya shakes his head. “No. The substation is hidden somewhere else on the mountain, but I’ve never been able to investigate it.”

“You say the lock on the door has some kind of electronic component?” Napoleon asks.

“Correct.”

“Well, it might have a backup power source, but you never know,” Napoleon muses. “I think cutting the electricity should be our next move.”

It’s surprisingly not that hard to follow the electrical lines to a substation sunk into the mountainside. Which, of course, makes Illya immediately think that it is a trap, but he is surprised again. There are only two guards, and the team takes them out quickly and quietly. The real problem comes in the fact that it will take at minimum fifteen minutes to cover the ground between the substation and the main compound, which is too long. They’re going to need to have one person cut the power when the other two are already in place, so that their targets have no chance to mount a response.

They argue about the distribution of labor, but in the end there is only one option: Napoleon has to go to the compound to crack the lock on the door, and Illya needs to be there because he’s the only one who will remember anything, so that leaves Gaby to kill the power. Illya hates the idea of leaving her alone, because he’ll have no idea if she is in trouble or not, but there’s no way around it. She’ll join them as soon as she can after she does it, and he hopes that at least in some loop he’ll get some confirmation that she’s ok.

Killing the power does disable part of the door lock, but it turns out there is a combination lock underneath, and it takes four loops for Napoleon to discover each number in the combination before they’re cut down by guards.

The minute they actually step foot inside the underground facility Illya knows they are in the right place. He can practically feel it, tingling on his skin. There are cells here—this must be where he’d been held, before—and spaces that look more like medical observation rooms. They move quickly and quietly, trying to search as much of the area as they can before the guards catch up with them. When they’ve gone as far as they can they end up in a well-appointed office, and it must belong to the man in charge, but he is frustratingly not in it. Somewhat unfortunately for them, he is nearby.

Normally the guards in the compound tend to be of the shoot-first-ask-questions-later variety, which works in their favor since it means Illya doesn’t have to worry about not dying. Whenever Illya does something truly unexpected, though, something that has the potential to actually work, it seems to tip off the man in charge. And that? Is not a good thing.

Like this time, when the armed guards that bust into the room just stand there with their guns trained on Illya and Napoleon instead of firing, as if waiting for someone to give the order.

“Now this is a surprise,” the now-familiar tenor croons moments before the man walks through the door. “In my very own office, even.”

Illya and Napoleon trade glances and a silent understanding that it might be useful to get the man talking rather than starting to shoot blindly in the hopes of triggering a new loop. This is, as it turns out, their first mistake.

“I take it one of you is resetting the day,” the man says conversationally, looking at both of them critically. “Given that you made it here. I don’t suppose you’d be so kind as to tell me who it is?”

“‘Fraid not,” Napoleon drawls. “Guess you’ll just have to kill us both.” The man laughs at this idea, which of course everyone knows is absurd. Killing them is the last thing he’d want to do, now that he has them cornered. He stares at them both for another moment, and Illya knows that nothing shows on either of their faces to give them away, but the man nods anyway.

“Shoot the American, and bring the Russian here,” he says dismissively.

“No!” Illya shouts involuntarily, because that is the one situation that cannot happen, but even as he does he realizes he played right into the man’s game.

So, he does the only thing he can, and starts shooting anyway.

The scuffle ends relatively quickly. Illya takes down several guards before he’s overwhelmed by the sheer number of them in the small space and they force him to his knees as they tie his hands behind his back. As luck would have it, though, Napoleon’s position nearer to the door means he manages to get a gun on the man in charge. He unfortunately does not look that perturbed by this development, but he waves a hand to signal the guards anyway. Several of them have their guns still trained on Napoleon, but at least for the moment they don’t fire. “Well, you got yourselves a standoff, if that’s what you were hoping for,” the man says. “But I don't think it’s going to work out for you.”

“You think it’s going to work out for you?” Napoleon scoffs. “Your mercenaries are just that loyal, are they? By my reckoning, I take you out and we go scot free.”

“Oh, Mr. Solo, that is an optimistic viewpoint,” the man replies, grinning cruelly. “My men will, in fact, kill you no matter what. The question is, after you die, who will be here to prevent them from giving your partner the antidote and then killing him? By my reckoning… no one. Something tells me that’s not a sacrifice you’re willing to make, even if you are dead.”

Illya can see realization flicker in Napoleon’s eyes at the truth of this assessment. Gaby won’t arrive in time, and there is no way in hell that Illya will allow the final loop to end with Napoleon’s death. There is only one possible scenerio where they both get out of this.

“Cowboy,” Illya says into the tense silence that fills the room. Napoleon doesn’t look at him, but Illya knows he’s listening all the same. “You know what you have to do.”

“Yeah, right, Peril. I don’t think so. He’s bluffing.” “He’s not.”

“Listen to your partner, Mr. Solo,” the man suggests. “Though I don’t think you will.” He pauses, and turns toward Illya, seemingly ignoring the fact there’s still a gun trained on him. “Did I ever tell you how many loops I had to get to know your little team?” Illya says nothing. He’s certainly not going to give this asshole the satisfaction.

“Fifty, at least. And if there’s one thing I know, it is that your partner would rather die than see you die. So he’s certainly never going to be able to kill you himself.”

“Cowboy,” Illya says again, steadfastly ignoring the man.

Napoleon’s jaw clenches and the muscle jumps under his skin. “He’s right,” Napoleon grits out, almost a whisper.

“He’s not.”

He gives a tiny shake of his head, moving only a fraction. “I can’t.” “You can,” Illya insists. “You have to.”

And then, suddenly, the situation becomes a lot more dire, because the guards have returned with what must be the antidote. The syringe is already full of a blue liquid, ready to inject, and the sight sends a bolt of fear through Illya. He tries to struggle out of the grip of the guards and manages to knock two of them over, but there are just too many.

“Napoleon,” Illya says with more urgency as he’s pressed back down to his knees. “Do it!”

“There has to be another way,” Napoleon protests, glancing to Illya for only a moment.

“There isn’t, you know it,” Illya tells him desperately.

The guard carrying the syringe gets closer and closer, until he’s standing over Illya. They are completely out of time.

“Napoleon!” Illya yells, but his partner’s hard gaze doesn’t waver from the man in charge. “Napoleon, SHOOT ME NOW!”

Finally, Napoleon’s eyes flicker down to Illya, and the anguish in them is unbearable. Illya doesn’t look away. He can’t. Not with what he’s asking Napoleon to do. Distantly, he can hear the man laughing, but the world seems to have narrowed down to nothing more than the two of them.

Please, Illya mouths.

In the next moment, Napoleon drops his gun to Illya, squeezes his eyes shut, and fires.

*****

Illya wakes up with a precise, circular gunshot scar exactly over his heart. It aches, and not in the way the lingering wounds usually do. He lies in bed until he hears Napoleon humming and he knows he needs to get up, but facing the day is excruciating with the memory of what happened in the previous one so fresh in his mind.

He makes it to the kitchen just in time to stop Napoleon from burning himself, and he can’t quite keep the desperation from the kiss he pulls his partner into. This time when he breaks away from the kiss he doesn’t let go of Napoleon, wraps him instead in a hug so tight that the man almost squeaks. He can feel the bewilderment in Napoleon’s rigid posture, moreso even than usual, but then his partner’s arms wrap around him, unquestioning, and he feels the ache in his heart slowly abate by small fractions.

There’s no way around telling them what happened; his partners have to know everything about the previous iterations if they’re going to stay ahead of their adversaries. Illya takes them through the power station and getting the door open, all the way up through their search of the underground facility, before he falters.

“They got the drop on us,” he forces himself to say, not looking at either of his partners. His hand goes white around the pencil as he marks out their positions and those of their opponents on the schematic of the underground level. “Managed to take me, but not you. The man in charge was here. You were nearby, with your gun on him. Bunch of guards here and here, guns on you. They were going to give me the antidote, pull me out of the loop.”

“And?” Gaby prompts, when Illya falls silent again. “Obviously they didn’t.”

Illya shakes his head and finally looks up at Napoleon, and he can tell by the uneasy look in his eyes that his partner is starting to put the pieces together. “I… I needed to die, so I told you to—”

“No,” Napoleon interrupts, shaking his head wildly. “No.”

“Cowboy, there was no other option—”

But Napoleon still doesn’t let him continue. “If I was armed, why wouldn’t I just kill the man in charge? That’s what we want, right?” “It wasn’t going to work,” Illya says, trying to keep his voice steady even as Napoleon becomes more and more agitated. “If you had shot him, the guards would have still killed you and pulled me out, and then there would be no resets. Not for us. It was the lesser of two evils.”

“Bullshit!” Napoleon yells, then turns on his heel and storms out of the house.

Illya’s shoulders sag and he leans heavily on the table as the ache in his chest returns in full force. After a moment Gaby’s small hand slides over top of his, warm and grounding.

“There was no other option,” he repeats, and his voice sounds so small and broken even to his own ears.

“I know that,” Gaby says quietly, soothingly. “And he does too, deep down. He’ll come to terms with it, he will. But right now he needs you to go to him.”

She’s right, he knows she is, as painful as the idea of talking about it is. He finds Napoleon standing on the porch of the safehouse, staring out into the forest. There is unmistakable tension in his shoulders and his hands are clenched into fists at his side. Illya steps out until he is side by side with his partner, and they stand there together, in silence, for a long moment.

“How could I do that?” Napoleon asks eventually, his tremulous voice barely more than a whisper. “I just can't see how I could possibly do it, even knowing you would ‘reset’, or whatever the fuck this is.”

“Cowboy,” Illya says, turning toward him, but Napoleon’s gaze remains fixated on the trees. “Napoleon, look at me.”

Finally, Napoleon turns, and Illya is shocked to see tears streaking his cheeks. He’s never seen Napoleon cry, not even when he was dying in the kitchen, and the sight is fairly terrifying. He reaches forward to pull Napoleon into his arms and his partner goes willingly, pressing his face into Illya’s shoulder.

“You did it for me,” Illya murmurs, holding him close. “Because I asked you to. And I shouldn’t have, I know, it’s not fair. I’m sorry, Cowboy.”

Napoleon is quiet for a long moment before he speaks again, pushing his words into Illya’s shirt. “I can’t do it again.”

Yes, you can, Illya thinks sadly, but he doesn’t say it. He knows that if it came down to it, Napoleon would pull the trigger, because he is far stronger than he thinks he is. Because he would always do anything for Illya, even the unthinkable.

“You won’t have to,” he promises instead. It’s a dangerous promise to make, but Illya also knows that he couldn’t ask Napoleon to do it again. Couldn’t take more of this pain. Illya is, in the end, the one that is not strong enough.

He presses a kiss to Napoleon’s temple and buries his face in his partner’s hair, drinking the the scent of his pomade and that thing that is uniquely him. They stand there for a long while, wrapped in each others arms, until Napoleon takes a deep breath that he exhales as a shaky sigh.

“We should go plan,” he says, his voice still muffled by Illya’s shirt.

Illya pulls back slightly and lifts a hand to cup Napoleon’s face, tipping it up toward his. “In a minute,” he murmurs, and then kisses him.

Illya never could have imagined that kissing the man he loves could make his heart ache so intensely. He can taste the sorrow in it, even more than the salt of Napoleon’s tears. Their tracks are drying on his cheeks, and Illya rubs his thumb through them, knowing for certain that this loop cannot end the way the previous one did, because he can never be the cause of these tears ever again.

Gaby is waiting for them when they finally come back inside, and she has put her time to good use. The table is near covered by explosive charges, assembled and ready to go. Illya and Napoleon blink at her in surprise.

“The way I see it,” she says without preamble, “we need the antidote, and then we need to blow the whole place, preferably with that bastard inside it. Make sure any trace of the drug is destroyed. These are for the outer walls,” she says, gesturing to one pile, “and these are for placing in the basement. I’ll kill the power, and then you have 15 minutes to get underground, get the antidote, place the charges, and get out. I’ll place the ones around the outside when I get there. Agreed?”

Illya and Napoleon look at each other, then back at Gaby, and nod. How could they not?

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