#ngl i feel slightly dead inside

[topsyturvy-turtely]

hi babe!

i miss you too!!! life has been tough on me lately...

found out my iron levels are so low all the doctors are like "wtf how are you even functioning still". but my body won't accept the iron infusions well so i went to hospital twice because of them...

had a big exam on thursday where i fucked up 1 of 2 questions 🥲

i feel like every potential date is ghosting me

and i still need to do lots of stupid stuff to figure out why i have fucking anemia. (and i am not even talking about all the symptoms of anemia yet)

oh and every day i wanna write but every day i am too fucking tired to (oh look! it is one tiny symptom of anemia 😃)

and i still have to do lots of work for college

and now i am done with my rant thank you for listening.

probably not the answer you were expecting but oh well

[fatuismooches]

pulchra mendacium.

synopsis: Prime Dottore fell in the final battle against Celestia, and the shock caused you to lose your memories. Omega plans to take his place, or more specifically, take you.

includes: dottore (omega) w/ gn! reader

notes: Based on a brainrot of mine. Omega becomes "Zandik" because he wants you. There's fluff but he is basically lying to you the whole time and selfishly justifying his actions. I'm ngl this fic kinda flopped halfway through because I wanted it to be longer but I also lost motivation but didn't want to scrap it, so sorry if it's messy </3.

Despite being Dottore’s most advanced and strongest segment, with power and intelligence that left most people fearful, clearly the best one among the lot - when Omega gazed upon you, there were times when he sorely remembered his true identity in the end.

He was a segment, and his creator was the original.

It was a sentiment shared among all the segments, and he was no different. Despite all the love and attention you gave them, it could never truly compare or feel the same as when you did it to Prime. He came first in your heart, and it was an unspoken, obvious truth. None of the segments were fond of this irrefutable fact of course, but what else could they do but understand their place and be content with what they were given? None dared to overstep their boundaries.

The Omega segment was the exception.

He had always teetered dangerously on the edge when it came to you, taking slightly more of you than he was allowed. Everything he attempted was always strategically done and within reason, he was no fool, after all. And being such a high-ranking segment, it wasn’t like Prime could afford to do anything too harsh.

Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Nothing was enough when it came to you - he selfishly desired all of you to himself. But there were things that even Omega couldn’t cross. Even he had to settle, something uncharacteristic of the man who pursued his interests without faltering. However, he was a patient man. Patience will eventually bring results, no matter how long that may be.

As Omega anticipated, his patience paid off, but not in the way he predicted.

—

The war against Celestia was victorious, but it had come at a terrible price, one you weren’t ready to pay.

Of course, everyone knew that it would be hard-won. Freedom was never easily earned. No amount of preparation could truly prepare anyone for heading into that battle. You yourself were terrified, but you steadied yourself by imagining peaceful days ahead with Dottore. Peaceful days of basking in the sun, your biggest worry being what should be for dinner tonight, no longer having to worry about the illness that plagued your body. You would teach him how to sleep in since his continuous experiments and paperwork would no longer be necessary. He would reteach you the wonders of being healthy again.

Unfortunately, your husband died right in front of you. You were right there, but you were powerless to do anything. You would have never thought this would happen, not the strong and intelligent scientist you loved, how could he fall?

Your Zandik. Your precious Zandik. The Zandik you promised to live out a lifetime of happy days with. He was gone, and you were all alone, all those happy years ahead of you were robbed.

Well, Omega, the last remaining segment and version of Dottore left in his world, had survived with you. But it wasn’t like you could really think or care about that right now, no, the loss of Zandik was far too devastating. After the war concluded, you thought you would be rebuilding your home with your husband. Instead, you were locked inside your room, refusing to come out. Omega was the only one who tended to you - the other Harbingers were either dead, too busy, or not close enough to see you.

Still, it wasn’t as if he was granted any attention. The segment’s words fell on deaf ears, whether you let him touch you or not had become an uncertain chance. And yet Omega was undeterred. With his creator gone, there was no one left to take care of you, the responsibility solely on his shoulders. Not that he minded of course - he’d done it for centuries, it wasn’t any different now. Even if you didn’t spare a glance at him, things would continue to go on. Time would always move forward, and he would remain by your side, waiting for the day when you’d smile at him again.

Most of all, Omega still loved you, even if he knew you’d never love him back as much as you did with Prime.

—

The segment had run through many possibilities of how you’d come to terms with your grief, but the situation he witnessed right now was not one of them.

From the moment he walked into your room to feed you your breakfast, he could tell something was wrong from how wide your eyes were, the confused furrow of your eyebrows, and how you were investigating your room. The two of you paused at each other’s presence before you backed more into the wall as if to guard yourself from him. Your lips parted, shoulders shaking in slight fear.

“Umm… W-Who are you…? And where… where exactly am I?” You looked at him nervously, unsure of what he could do.

Memory loss.

Well, even the ever-calculating segment didn’t see this coming. Immediately, many things ran through his mind. How, why? Did the sheer grief and loss trigger this? Most likely. Could you get your memory back? Maybe. It couldn’t be impossible. Plus, he was unsure as to what memories you lost in particular. What would be the best course of action so as to not frighten you even more? That would be-

“Hello…? Please answer me,” your voice was timid and unsure, heart beating in your chest.

“… Do you truly not remember me?” You shook your head in response. Omega paused before carefully selecting his next words.

“I am your husband.” Your eyes widened slightly at the declaration before narrowing again in disbelief, obviously unsure of the truth of his statement, but he continued on. “You’ve seen the pictures on your desk, as well as the ring on your finger. If you would like to see mine, I shall retrieve it.” (In truth, that was Prime’s ring, but it wouldn’t hurt to borrow it.)

It was true. In the strange room you woke up in, your desk was filled with pictures of an unfamiliar blue-haired man, that was the spitting image of the one you saw before you. The pictures held fond moments, most notably a wedding one, and you did not question how the mask was different considering the great similarity in appearance. Both of you looked at each other with great gentleness.

“And this is your room in our house. We have lived together for years.” It was a good thing that even though the Fatui disbanded, he still kept his mansion. Still, naturally, you looked unsure. Omega sought to remedy your worries, as he always did.

“Do you remember your name, by chance?” You nodded and quietly replied with it. “And what about your preferences? Favorite food? Season? Hobby?” You took a few moments to ponder before nodding your head. At least you seemed to remember yourself, Omega observed. Could the memory loss only apply to anything related to Dottore?

“Very well. Now, ask me things about yourself, especially things you think no one else would know. Surely that would prove how long I’ve known you.” You had to agree with that - of course there’d be secrets you’d tell no one except for a select few. And so you hesitantly started listing off some questions, to which the blue-haired man immediately answered without a second thought. For some of them, he even responded before you got through the question! How did he know you so well…? Guess he really was the real deal, but you turned your gaze to the floor, confusion and sadness still lingering on your expression.

“But how come I don’t remember? … What happened to me? What am I going to do now? How will I- will I ever remember?” Tears started to well in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself, truly coming to terms with the situation. Omega only stared at you, his mind still thinking of the possible implications of this situation, but his first priority right now was to comfort you.

“May I approach you?” Your lip quivered, still a bit uneasy about him, but you nodded. Quietly, he made his way over to you, his tall stature hovering over yours. His hand rested on your shoulder and you stiffened momentarily. To be honest, you thought you’d be uncomfortable with it, but for some reason, it felt a bit reassuring. The man then wrapped his arms around you, your head resting on his chest.

“I’ll stay by your side and help you with those questions, and whatever more you need,” Omega wiped a threatening tear from your eyes before it could roll down your cheek. You don’t know why you instinctively felt a bit better, or why his warmth felt so nice.

“Your touch feels familiar.”

“Does it?” You nodded slightly.

“I can’t remember anything about you… but it feels comforting.”

“I’m glad, then.”

“You never told me your name…” You looked up at him, still lost but a trace of hope lingered.

It was in those few moments where Omega made a decision.

He had always known he’d never be what Prime was to you. The segment was smart enough not to fool himself into thinking the opposite. Still, he wondered how it’d feel for you to love him even a fraction of how much you loved the original. It was a tempting feeling. Very, very, tempting… he continued to think.

Perhaps he could become Prime. Perhaps he could become Zandik. Perhaps this was where his selfish desires overtook his rationality. 

Logically, if he did that, he would be lying to you about a few key things. And there was the chance you could regain your full memories. There was the issue with his mechanical face too…

However, you would be happy to live out the life you always wanted. He would fulfill the things you wanted to do with Prime instead. Yes, he vividly remembered when you’d tell him all the things you wanted to do when you were healthy. Of course, he would get the love and treatment he’d always selfishly longed for. This would be beneficial for both of you. And so, the segment parted his lips to give you his answer.

“My name is Zandik.”

—

What followed afterward was what he had expected to happen.

There were a lot of things you wanted to ask and yet you felt awkward and as lost as you could be, knowing he was the only link to the world you had anymore. He could feel your flickering glances repeatedly, throat dry as you inquired.

“You said you are my husband, right?”

“Yes.”

“So… that means you l-love me then…?”

“That’s also right.” You fidgeted with your fingers awkwardly, pondering what you should say next.

“If I am correct, you mean to tell me you do not feel any sort of affection for me, yes?” You rubbed your head shyly.

“… I am sorry.” When you looked at the blue-haired man, you couldn’t feel any sort of love for him, although his touch felt familiar. And although you had your own big problems to worry about, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Zandik, having to deal with his beloved not remembering a single thing about him. But he merely shrugged.

“Given the circumstances, it is only natural. We can worry about that later.” However, despite your worries, he seemed pretty calm and collected.

“So… about my memories. You’re gonna tell me about them, right? And you?”

“I could,” he began, “but I have a better idea.” You sent him a confused look. “In the past, many times you’ve told me that you wished to go back to Sumeru to live. Would you still like to do that?” You blinked at Zandik before a look of realization crossed your face.

“Sumeru… yes, Sumeru! My home… why am I even in Snezhnaya in the first place?” A large hand on your shoulder quelled your incoming anxiety.

“I’ll explain soon. But do you want to return with me?”

“I… do.” Even though you hadn’t gone outside yet, you think you’d prefer to live under that familiar sun rather than trudging through the snow daily.

Omega already knew what your answer would be. You had always wanted to go back and live an uncaring, domestic life with Prime after the war, but obviously, you never had the opportunity. It was what you deserved - so many years you were stuck in the lab.

He then approached you, cautiously taking your hand in his. “I believe the sights will help you regain some of what you’ve lost.” You couldn’t disagree with that, and soon enough you two were on a boat to Sumeru, though you weren’t sure why the employees were looking at you and your husband so oddly. 

—

The way Sumeru looked so different yet similar to the way you remembered it at your head reeling. You knew for a fact the architecture was not like this.

But what you didn’t understand more was how Zandik managed to get a cozy home completely furnished to your liking in such a nice spot so quickly, but you didn’t question it much. Your husband gave off an aura of importance, perhaps he was good at pulling strings… however he did. More strangely was how calm he was about the situation. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be crying with stress and sadness. But he looked as if everything was turning out fine… You weren’t sure if that made you less or more worried, though the perfect drink he made you eased you of your troubles a bit.

“So… um, Zandik,” your husband’s name rolled off your tongue easily, perhaps because of how much you uttered it in the past. You didn’t notice how he tensed for a split second, still adapting to his new name. “Are you going to tell me everything?” Omega hummed in response.

“Would you be upset if I delayed it once again?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“… I’m beginning to wonder what I was thinking marrying such a strange man. Any normal person would be, I don’t know, fumbling over themselves to help me remember some things. I question your motives.” 

“I can assure you that I mean well. I merely want to increase the chances of you remembering.”

“… Well, go on, Zandik.” He smiled at you. Your heart felt a bit funny at that.

“Come with me.” All of a sudden he clasped your hand in his and began leading you out of the door.

“Where are we going?” You glanced down to your joined hands with Zandik. He was warm. Unusually so. You… liked it.

“Where we first met.” 

—

“We met at the Akademiya?” You did remember gazing upon the grand building as a child, but you were sure it looked way different than this. And all the shops too, there was nothing here that you remembered.

“Indeed we did,” he led you into the institution, an area where non-students were allowed to come and ago. “We were both students here a very long time ago.” Although he may not have personally experienced it, he still had all the memories of Prime. Pretending was easy.

“Really?” You squinted at the lights, gazing at the architecture that looked unfamiliar. You briefly remember getting in, but it felt like there was a hole blocking something important in your brain.

“Yes. The first time I met you, I thought you were a nuisance.” You nearly tripped at his blatantly rude statement and sent a mixture of a shocked and offended look to him.

“What?” Omega smirked. “I thought you wanted the truth.”

“I didn’t think my husband would think so crudely of me…”

“Well, when I met you I was not your husband. I was just a student who thought you were a pain in my side.” You huffed, but you found yourself oddly intrigued by his words.

“But why?” Omega paused before he responded.

“It didn’t have anything to do with you. I simply disliked the company of most people. But you were persistent in bothering me.”

“How come?”

“According to your words, you said I was too ‘intelligent and cute to resist.’” You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“I-Is that so?”

“It is,” your husband grinned at you.

“So then what?” You two sat down, watching busy students rush past each other.

“You signed up to dorm with me, much to my displeasure. I ignored you for a long time and treated you rather harshly.”

“And I put up with that?”

“You did indeed. I thought you were crazy myself. But then I started to warm up to you. I realized your strength. Your intelligence. Even your beauty, which I had not cared for on anyone before I met you.”

“… I see.” His words left your face a little hot. Alright, now you could see why past you fell for him. He was certainly a smooth talker with a handsome face. However…

“I still can’t remember anything,” you murmured regretfully.

“That’s alright. I remember every moment that we spent together,” he said matter of factly, which you found strange, but you rolled with it anyway.

“Please, continue then,” you urged him.

The rest of the day was spent with Akademiya students sending odd looks at you two actively chatting, a scene quite reminiscent of centuries ago.

—

For a while, you woke up to the delicious smell of coffee. It seemed that it was one of the only things he was capable of making. You’d hypothesized that he probably couldn’t cook because he was buying food for all your meals… you weren’t complaining though. But for some reason, you had hardly seen him eat. It was only when you offered for him to join you that he seemed interested. There was also the issue of his mask - he never took it off… maybe he was self-conscious? You didn’t really know but also didn’t know how to approach the subject. 

It also appeared that Zandik was an early riser - or maybe you just liked to sleep in too much. And yet, he never disturbed you from your rest, patiently waiting for you to wake. Whatever request you’d have, he would fulfill it efficiently with no errors. Whenever you’d break down, he would be by your side immediately and somehow comforting you exactly in the way you needed. He could be a listening ear, a reassuring shoulder, a voice of advice… it was almost unnerving how perfect he was being for you.

However, despite all his kindness… your memory simply could not remember anything. Even when he told you the whole four hundred years of sickness story, nothing clicked in your head…

“It’s regrettable that you do not remember anything,” Omega lied. He had always been cunning, to say the least. It took little effort to conveniently write his lesser selves out of the story and make it seem like he was your one and only. Of course, he left out the human experimenting and all. He didn’t want to scare you off right now. 

Although, he did feel pity at your downcast look. He did not enjoy seeing you sad of course, nor did he like lying to you, but it would only last a while in the grand scheme of things, because he would take care of you as you deserved.

“Mhm… at least I have you, Zandik,” you sighed. Over the course of months upon months, you had come to grow fond of your husband. Aside from the memory situation, he indulged you in things you had always wanted to do. 

The two of you had started a small garden (you were pleasantly surprised when he first brought it up) and spent mornings and nights tending to it together. Stray cats and birds somehow showed up at your doorstep (they were strangely affectionate toward Zandik) and you fed them together. He joined you on your new hobbies (how could he knit that fast?) too. He helped you prep ingredients whenever you cooked but didn’t go further than that “for your own safety,” in his words…

All in all, you could definitely understand why younger you stayed with him forever, and why present you was beginning to long for him in a deeper manner.

“Regardless, I appreciate all you have done for me,” you thanked him while clearing your throat awkwardly, and scooching closer to him on the grass. Sumeru’s evenings could get cold sometimes. You didn’t meet Zandik’s gaze and instead kept it focused on the setting sun. Amazingly enough, the island in the sky that had always been there was no longer to be seen. The sky was clear and beautiful, something you never thought you’d see. Zandik decided to tear his gaze from you too and look up, although he placed his hand on top of yours as you stiffened in surprise.

“Perhaps this isn’t so bad. I can court you properly, forgetting all the times I acted foolishly before.” You warmed at his suggestion.

“Such as?”

“Locking you out of the dorm for one.”

“Wow, you were pretty horrible, huh?” You couldn’t help but laugh and he quietly chuckled as well. “But…” you squeezed his large hand, “I would like that,” you admitted. “I hope to remember everything eventually, but… it would be nice to start over with you.” Omega perked up in delight at your confession, his mind racing with all the ways he would make you fall in love with him again.

“However, I do have one request.”

“Tell me.” Shyly, you raised your hand to his cheek and stroked it, which was softer than you expected. 

“I would like to know the face of the man I’m about to kiss.”

Omega knew this was coming. He had put it off as long as he could, but it was only natural you’d get curious about his face. In all honesty, he was slightly unsure of what your reaction would be. It was very possible for you to be scared. At his hesitation, you quickly spoke again.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to,” you backtracked, “Although… it would make it happy to see who you really are, Zandik.” Omega sighed in response.

“My appearance may be offputting. Are you sure?”

“Of course! If past me could deal with it, why couldn’t present me do it?” You smiled, playfully pulling at his cheek to which he batted you away.

“As you wish.” In an instant, what stared back at you was a gleaming red star, no eyes to be found. You blinked, speechless. You weren’t really sure what you were expecting, really, but still.

“Over the centuries, I modified myself to the point I was no longer human,” Omega explained. It wasn’t totally off the mark.

“I kind of had a feeling you weren’t human. I mean, what kind of human can survive only off sweets for breakfast the whole day?” You joked as your fingers went to brush against his metal plate, missing how he sucked in his breath, staying silent.

“This doesn’t bother me, Zandik. I’m happy you showed me. I know I must have chosen you in the past for a reason, regardless of what happened. And I want to stay with you.”

“… I share the sentiment,” Omega replied, senses focused on how close you were. He took hold of your hand and placed it on his lips instead, watching how you inhaled at his boldness. Swallowing away your nervousness, you took his invitation and moved your face closer to his, dropping your hand to lay against his chest instead. Shakily, you finally pressed your lips against his, and your husband immediately took control and pushed you onto the grass, making you gasp.

Finally, you were his.

All his.

—

From then on, the days were as peaceful as you once desired. You two slept in as much as you wanted. You two would bask in the sun and cool off in the shade. You would worry about what was for dinner (even though Zandik didn’t need to eat.) He would take you to hidden places in Sumeru frequently, watching as you brightened at the beauty of the land, and then give him an equally as beautiful look.

These looks were different from the ones who gave him all those years ago. You weren’t falling in love with a mere segment of Zandik, you were falling in love with “Zandik” himself. It was an entirely different experience. 

It was wonderful.

Your touches were lavished upon his skin only, your sweet and encouraging words for his ears only. No longer did you need to direct any attention toward those who were less than him. And in return, he would love you better than any of them ever could. It was bliss…

… But of course, he should have expected an obstacle or two.

“I never thought I would see you back in this nation, at least not like this,” a familiar, young voice sounded behind him one day, one that he once bargained with a long time ago.

“… Lesser Lord Kusanali. I must say, I’m surprised it took you this long to visit. You’ve been observing me, haven’t you?” He hummed, uncaring of the God’s presence, continuing to water his plants.

“I have, ever since you stepped foot into Sumeru. You didn’t even try to hide it.”

“Of course. Since you’ve been watching me so thoroughly, then you must know, I have no intentions of causing any harm.” Nahida was silent. The fact that he was telling the truth was still jarring for her. However, that wasn’t why she was here.

“What you’re doing is entirely selfish. I thought you cared for them.” The God knew about what had transpired all those years ago and was able to roughly guess what the segment was doing. Omega scoffed in response.

“Of course I do. That’s why I’ve ascertained that this is the best possible solution.” You were happy like this, enjoying life to its fullest. Before, you were stuck listless and lifeless in a room all day. Surely, the former was the better option, even if he had to withhold some things from you…

“The best solution for you,” she corrected Omega, eyes narrowing. “This is all a lie you’ve crafted to fulfill your selfish desires and-” Before the Dendro God could finish her sentence, Dottore’s segment stood up, looming over her.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, I would think that someone as busy as yourself would have other things to do than to probe into another’s business,” he dismissed her criticism. “I have been with them for centuries. They have shared everything with me. I know what’s best for them.” So what if it was a lie? It was a beautiful one, was it not? It kept you glowing, happy to wake up every morning, and grateful to rest at night with him.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to hope your memories never truly returned.

But with you smiling at him so sweetly every single day, all the love you could muster reflecting in your gentle gaze, Omega continued to believe he was right.

[ally1uvsu]

But when he loves me (I feel like I’m floating) | Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu

⨉⠀⠀─⠀⠀Series .⠀›⠀Trans Namgyu Week 2025⠀‎ꪆৎ day 3; emotional hurt/comfort — Day 1 | Day 2

·⠀warnings info⠀· NSFW — . wc; 3.5k

summary; The second Nam-gyu left those games, He thought he'd be the happiest person alive. But no, as he was tossed out of the van with some random player, the chilling air hitting his half-naked body, Nam-gyu realized he might be wrong.

info; Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Anorexia, likely ngl, trans namgyu, Alternative Universe - Everyone leaves (Squid Game), Post Games, throwing up, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Well shared kiss, Cuddling & Snuggling, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Happy Ending, Theyre so gay I hate them: (, Choi Subong I Thanos Lives, Soft Namgyu (Squid Game), Soft Choi Subong I Thanos, Excessive binding, Bruises, Namgyu is probably depressed ngl

notes; IM SO COOKED OH MY DAYS 😭😭 I’ve been stressing over janitor AI and personal shit that i forgor ab the week challenge.. I SAEAR I’LL POST DAY 4 AND 5 AS SOON AS I CAN MAYBE IN A FEW HOURS BOTH WILL BE OUT TRUST

The second Nam-gyu left those games, He thought he'd be the happiest person alive. But no, as he was tossed out of the van with some random player, the chilling air hitting his half-naked body, Nam-gyu realized he might be wrong.

As they both managed to free themselves, the reality seemed to reach Nam-gyu. He only really managed to leave alive because he was high the whole fucking time.

The player whom he had been dropped with and him exchanged a brief goodbye once they were both dressed, Nam-gyu normally wouldn't care less about saying his farewells but.. that place made him feel a bit more different.

His mind was reeling as he walked, realizing that maybe.. hell, not maybe. This money he had was dirty, this money was someone's life. Every million won was someone's life.

Nam-gyu was pissed in the beginning when after the fourth game the people who wanted to leave won in the voting, even if they each left with a billion won. Few players left alive, thankfully, Thanos included. He remembered both of them high off their asses and complaining over it, but only because of that ecstasy pill.

Walking back home with the chill of the wind hitting his face made reality suddenly hit him, he killed people. So many people were dead because of what he did.. well, because of lights out and everything.

He wondered if Thanos was okay, at least. He was sure of the fact that the purple haired man was somewhere in Korea, tossed out of the car and maybe on drugs, Nam-gyu surprisingly couldn't stomach the thought of getting high.

He felt miserable as he walked towards his overly small apartment, he'd sleep for tonight, pack up, and maybe buy a house big enough for him to live with this money? Find something he was good at and stick with that.

And that's what he did, one would expect things to go well after moving, but Nam-gyu kept getting worse.

He couldn't stomach eating, remembering hwo the meals were served after a practical massacre of people, the food he was eating was paid with the money that cost someone's life.

His stomach didn't even have the strength to rumble anymore, even if Nam-gyu felt weak, he just couldn't eat. Normally, everyday he didn't even bother taking off his binder, even if breathing got a little too hard.

That's when he decided to go to a bar to drink his worries away, drinking in an empty stomach wasn't the best idea but Nam-gyu was desperate to just.. forget.

He didn't bother looking good, just in some sweats and a hoodie and some converses, his hair was slightly greasy from the constant procrastination of whether he should wash it or not, but Nam-gyu really didn't care.

He didn't even wonder what did he do to deserve this, he wondered what did he not do. It's something that plagued his mind everyday, no matter where he was, he always seemed to remember the bodies of people falling everywhere.

A curse fell from his lips as he stumbled inside the bar, tucking his hair behind his ears as he sat into one of the stools, head down and ordering a bottle of wine. The bartender seemed surprised, maybe they felt like they were mistaken when Nam-gyu asked the the literal bottle, but didn't question further when Nam-gyu slammed the bills onto the counter, probably having a bit more than needed but he couldn't care less, nor the bartender.

He was never a wine guy, he found it a little too bitter for his liking but today he was drinking it like he needed it to survive. It was barely past half an hour when Nam-gyu was on his fifth glass and halfway down the bottle.

He hiccuped, face flushed red as he looked at his phone, contacts empty, everything was empty. For a moment, Nam-gyu missed the constant threat he got from the people he owed before those damn games.

His vision was turve, stomach rumbling but he kept on pouring himself wine until he reached the very last drop of the bottle. The wine was coating his taste buds, as disgusting as it felt.. it felt comforting.

Although it felt good, the effects of drinking so much in an empty stomach began getting to him, he grabbed his phone and stood up straight out of the stool he was sitting in. Swearing he could hear a very familiar 'Nam-su!' Cheerily ring in his ears, that place was coming to haunt him again, wasn't it? The thought made his stomach churn, it was completely unlikely he and Thanos would ever meet again.

There were many things Nam-gyu wished he could tell Thanos, but he never did. It was foolish to fall for someone inside a death game, even if they'd both known each other, albeit barely, before.

He decided to solely focus in the feeling of something strong and burning coming up his throat, his eyes slightly stinging as he rushed out of the bar. He could still hear his name wrongly said by Thanos, it never felt so vivid before and Nam-gyu hated it.

His mind was spinning, but at least he had the decency to not puke inside a toilet.

Turning around the very corner of the bar where the parking lot was, Nam-gyu didn't hesitate to double over, hand leaving his mouth and instead squeezing his stomach as he threw up everything he drank, vision hazy as he saw the purple liquid fall.

Everything burnt, it was hard to breathe, his eyes were stinging and he slid down to his knees.

His mind was messy, scattered and trying to pick up pieces of whatever was going on, he knew he was puking, just wasn't sure how his surroundings were.

Not having much time to think again, another wave of nausea hit him and everything was coming out, but this time, he felt hands rub against his back.

Warm, gentle hands holding his hair back a little even if it was pretty short, just so it wouldn't fall in his face.

And amidst all of that fog, Nam-gyu could make out a familiar voice. Slightly unfamiliar too from how.. soft it was.

"Hold on, my boy. Let it all out." Nam-gyu could hear the person say.. was it Thanos?

He panted once he finally was done, turve vision finally falling back into place as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "There you go, good job, boy. I knew you had it in you."

Nam-gyu lifted his head, slightly shaky, and he was met with Thanos' face. Thanos was here, the unlikely probability of ever meeting him again was now.. becoming just a simple what if in his mind. His mouth opened to let put anything but he just let out a choked sound.

Maybe it was how his stomach was so empty, but Nam-gyu felt weak. Black spots filling his vision as Thanos' face became nothing but a blur, the feeling of him shaking his body lulling him into unconsciousness. Maybe this was his karma for killing people, surviving and living off of money that was someone's life. Maybe he'd finally die a slow, miserable death like he knew he deserved.

But the universe was insisting in not letting him die, Nam-gyu knew that it was the second he peered his eyes open with a bursting headache. A hand fell on top of his head as he propped himself up on his elbows.

He wasn't in his house, that's the first thing he noticed. The bedroom was a little too full of vinyl disks and discographies for it to be his house. To be quite fair, Nam-gyu was so out of energy lately that he didn't bother getting anything other than the basics. A bedframe, mattress, kitchen utensils and self hygiene products.

"Nam-su, my boy! You're finally awake!" Thanos chirped as he walked into the room with his sleeves pulled up, so it wasn't a dream after all.

Nam-gyu nodded, and Thanos furrowed his brow. Nam-gyu was off, and thinner than he was in the games. It worried him- Nam-gyu left with a billion won, like him. So why?

"I ran you a bath, you look like you need one, no offense." Thanos began with, shoving a towel towards Nam-gyu's way. "I didn't know where you lived, so you'll just have to stay here." He shrugged, and without letting Nam-gyu speak, he left the room.

He didn't have a choice, did he? Well.. he could just lock the door and stay in here, but Thanos probably had spare keys, who knew?

Nam-gyu stood up shakily, feeling his body shiver but he was also burning up. His stomach was weak but the thought of eating made it churn further.

Opening the bathroom door, Nam-gyu was met with the bathtub filled with water that looked a little steamy, maybe it would do some good to the cold Nam-gyu felt.

His clothes felt sticky as he began stripping them off, he closed snd locked the door, feeling colder snd colder at the thought of having to get naked.

In the end, he was just in his boxers and binder as he stared at himself in the mirror.

Pathetic, he looked pathetic and wrecked. His eyes were bloodshot, deep eye bags under his eyes, he looked a tad paler than usual and maybe a but more skinny.

Nam-gyu always hated how his body looked, but today it was worse. Having to face the consequences of what he was doing to himself.

Everything felt like he was being punished by the universe, from his self hatred, to his guilt, to.. just existing.

He curled his hands into fists, controlling himself to not smash the mirror in front of him. Nam-gyu would rather stare directly at the sun than the mirror.

A sob came out of him without permission, and that's when Nam-gyu knew there would be no thrning back. Tear after tear, everything began leaving his chest since he left. He was crumbling apart, falling on his ass and wincing as he hit his back against the toilet. His chest heaved, and suddenly he became aware of how much his ribs hurt, hell, they were probably full of bruises that Nam-gyu would just hate even more despite not being able to stop.

He curled his knees close to his chest, sniffling and feeling sobs mixed with hiccups leave his lips, as much as he wanted to- he couldn't keep quiet. His anxiety ring couldn't cease down the feeling of a huge lump in his throat, nothing could stop the ugly crying.

A knock from the other side came to reach his ears, but Nam-gyu didn't bother to reply. He was gross, everything hurt, and existing felt like a burden. He just wanted it all to stop.

"Nam-su? You alright in there?" Thanos asked, pressing his ear to the door. He could hear a thudding sound and a wince. At first, he just came by to give Nam-gyu a fresh pair of clothes, but the sounds coming from the bathroom weirded him out a bit. "I'm coming in, okay?" Thanos said as he tried to open the door, but instead of the door knob twisting open, it twisted until barely halfway and din't open. The door was fucking locked.

"Shit.. Nam-su, what are you doing in there?" Thanos called out a little bit louder, cursing under his breath as he didn't hear a reply, just the sound of hiccups and sobs.

Pulling away from the door, his feet heavily padded against the floor as he rushed through the hallway towards his bedroom. Door flying open as he began to search inside one of his drawers frantically, finding the keys and immediately yanking them out without bothering to close the drawer.

As quickly as he could, he ran back inside the room and began fumbling with the keys to open the door. Thanos was unsure why he was so frantic and maybe slightly anxious as he tried to reach Nam-gyu, he always thought this weird feeling whenever they played together in games were just due to being high.. he couldn't have feelings for Nam-gyu, could he?

Shaking those thoughts off, Thanos yanked the door open. Finding Nam-gyu sitting on the floor, half naked and basically drowning in tears.

Thanos froze, he wasn't sure how to approach this situation.. well, he never was the best with comforting or dealing with being comforted, but everything had its first time, right?

Carefully and tentatively, Thanos kneeled down in front of Nam-gyu. It was weird to see him like this, and the sight made something tug at his heartstrings. "Nam-gyu?" He called out. "Hey, boy, you okay?" That was a stupid question, damn it! Why Thanos couldn't just.. be good with his words?

But then again, he was always best at showing his feelings through actions than words.

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Nam-gyu's torso, feeling him flinch and slightly tense up at the touch, and Thanos stayed put, barely even breathing.

And then, Nam-gyu melted against the hug. Clinging to Thanos as if he was the only thing grounding him into reality, face buried into his shoulder as he cried like a lost little kid. Thanos' hands ran through his hair, rubbing circles on his back as he felt his shirt get basically soaked.

"I can't do this anymore- I can't— I- it's.. this money.. it's all someone's life- I killed people in there, I—" Nam-gyu choked out, and Thanos shushed him gently, pulling back just slightly to look at Nam-gyu in the eyes. "Whether or not you did, there's nothing we can do about it. That place does things to people, Nam-gyu. Even if this money is dirty, you can't let it drag you down. Especially when you fought so hard to survive." Thanos said with a small frown in his lips, and Nam-gyu nodded. Even if he didn't believe it much, he nodded along.

His breath was heavy as he sniffled, sobs subsiding within a few minutes that none of them bothered to really count. "You should.. get this off, it looks like it's constricting your chest." Thanos said as he jerked his chin towards the binder Nam-gyu was wearing.

Now that he mentioned it, Nam-gyu noticed that Thanos didn't care about the binder or him being transgender in the slightest, or he simply didn't know.

"I'll leave and you can shower, I left some clothes for you in the bed." Thanos said as he sighed, standing up and pulling Nam-gyu along. Catching the faintest glimpse of bruises underneath the binder due to the flexing skin. "The shirt's big enough, don't wear this crap. Plus, it's slightly sweaty." Thanos said with a grimace more due to trying to give the conversation some sort of happy mood than disgust.

The second Thanos left, Nam-gyu let out a heavy sigh. Closing the door and stripping off his binder and boxers. His body still shivered, maybe he was sick? It would make sense, having eaten nothing but ice in the energy drinks he bought. It was a surprise Nam-gyu hadn't passed out in the middle of the street before.. but maybe not eating was just discounting its signs on how badly his hair was falling and how he was growing weaker.

The warmth of the water engulfing his body made him feel weirdly good— dipping his head underneath the water for a bit, Nam-gyu came back up swearing he could sleep in the bathtub.

But he didn't, Thanos would probably just pull him out and he didn't feel like being seen naked by him.

So, instead, after washing himself properly, Nam-gyu unplugged the drain of the tub and got out, changing into the clothes Thanos separated surprisingly neatly in the bed. And he was right, the shirt was indeed big enough, but then again Nam-gyu's chest wasn't that big.. he just was a tad paranoid about it.

He left his clothes in the corner of the room, getting out and looking to either sides of the hallway that the bedroom led to. Thanos left him alone without giving Nam-gyu directions.. tch, asshole.

Nam-gyu decided it'd be best to follow the humming sounds that Thanos was producing, as much as he hated to admit it, it was surprisingly calming.

He carefully and quietly stepped down the steps, following that same humming sound until he reached the kitchen, and Thanos was.. cooking?

He could see mashed potatoes set inside a small bowl in the counter, and the familiar smell of chicken reached his nose. He stood staring for a bit, until Thanos turned around and gave him a big smile, and Nam-gyu's stomach churned again.. but not out of disgust. Rather, something he refused to acknowledge.

"Hey! Nam-su! Come sit down!" Thanos called out, and now Nam-gyu was sure he got his name messed up on purpose.. moments ago was calling him seriously by his name correctly.

But despite that, he sat down on the stool nearby the counter. Raising his brow at the bowl shoved in front of him, mashed potatoes, veggies, and.. chicken.

"Eat, you must be hungry." Thanos said with a proud smile, and Nam-gyu just stared at the food. All of a sudden remembering everyone who died, the people he killed and... "Nam-su?" Thanos called out, and Nam-gyu came back to reality. "Sorry, not hungry."

Thanos gave him a frown, furrowing his brows and crossing his arms. "Bullshit, your stomach was rumbling when I brought you here. And you.. threw up pure wine, you haven't been eating, have you?" How the hell did Thanos get the story straight? Nam-gyu would never know. But he froze, just staring at Thanos with wife eyes. Then, Thanos sat down by his side. Grabbing the bowl, a spoon and chopsticks, and then finally, looking at Nam-gyu tentatively. "Just a bit, you don't have to eat everything." Thanos suggested with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

"Come on, my boy. Just a bit!" Thanos said with a huff. And then he seemed to have an idea, filling the spoon with mashed potatoes and bringing it in front of Nam-gyu's face.

Nam-gyu didn't seem to quite like the idea, face heating up when Thanos practically shoved the spoon in his face. But Thanos probably wouldn't let it go regardless of anything, so he just sighed snd opened his mouth.

The taste of mashed potatoes filled his mouth and Nam-gyu swore he could feel his tastebuds burst with the flavor, so different from bland ice and drinks. He was surprised about how he didn't feel like throwing it all up, maybe it was because the food was really light, Thanos really could be thoughtful when he wanted to.

They repeated the same process until halfway through the food, and then Nam-gyu shook his head, not being able to really take any more bites. Sitting in silence with Thanos was always comfortable, but this time it felt different.

"I wish they dropped me off with you, y'know." Thanos said with a heavy sigh, leaning both arms on his thighs. Nam-gyu's eyebrows shot up at that, how come? He would have wanted to ask, but preferred to stay quiet. "I would have made sure you were okay, and have eaten sooner. I don't think you've been.. eating well lately, you're thinner than you were back in the game and we were fed small ass portions of food." Thanos then looked at Nam-gyu in the eyes, and in the moment, Nam-gyu felt his breath being sucked away.

Thanos' eyes, normally blown from drugs and normally wild, were weirdly soft. For a moment, the room fell into a comfortable silence, just the two of them staring at each other, as if spiritually asking each other for things none of them could vocally express.

And then, Thanos was moving closer in front of him, giving him one last glamce before their lips met in a passionate and yet desperate kiss. It was as if both of them were longing for that for a long time.

Once they pulled apart, Nam-gyu met Thanos' eyes again and he swore the weight of the world was in them, and then all of a sudden Nam-gyu found out why his stomach churned at the sight of Thanos.

Tugging at Thanos' shirt, their lips met again, and again, and again. Every time they pulled back, not seeming to get enoigh of the feeling, their lips always found its way back to each other.

Thanos had his hands settled on Nam-gyu's waist, Nam-gyu had his hands tangled in Thanos' hair as they both moved to the couch.

And then, their lips parted one last time. Nam-gyu was practically draped all over Thanos, head on his chest and Thanos' chin rested atop his head. Silence reigned over them, until Nam-gyu broke it, only for a split second. "Can you.. hum that song again?" He asked, closing his eyes. He didn't get a yes or a no, instead, he got a humming. Maybe it was from how peaceful Nam-gyu felt, but falling asleep was easier this time ever since he left the games.

Maybe all he needed was someone who would get it, someone who would be just a little patient and help him come forward rather than staying stuck in the past.

[lcvesjj]

Half Return - Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Inspired by the song "Half Return" by Adrianne Lenker

Summary : Many years after you left Ohio, you return to see your best friend Natasha..only to find out that she’s gone before you had the chance to talk to her…

Warnings : hurt/no comfort, heavy angst, Nat’s dead, no happy ending,

A/n : ngl this turned out longer than I thought it would 😭 I didn't even realise how much I wrote until I edited some mistakes. I might write a part 2 to this. NOT BETA READ!

masterlist

song fics masterlist

You could remember it like it was yesterday.

Playing in your yard with Natasha and Yelena. Back when Natasha still had blue hair and she was wearing her beloved red converse.

The same ones she always wore no matter the weather.

The same ones on which she wrote your name in a black sharpie on the side.

The same ones you bought her for her birthday shortly after she moved in next door.

You didn’t have any friends and you had no siblings. So when a new family moved in with two young daughters- one your age and the other one was younger, you were ecstatic at the fact that you had new neighbours, seeing the chance at finally having a best friend you begged your mother to help you bake some cookies to bring over to meet your new neighbours.

After helping to make your moms special shortbread cookies, you placed them onto a pretty plate and covered them before slipping on your blue converse shoes and heading out the door towards your new neighbours house. Taking a deep nervous breath you walked up the driveway and gently knocked on the door. Soon you heard footsteps and a young girl's voice calling “I’ll get it!” From inside of the house.

Then a little blonde girl opened the door looking up at you innocently with her big green eyes. “Hi.” The girl said unsurely looking at you, seeing your blue converse she gasped and exclaimed “I want shoes like that! They're so cool!”

In return you smiled and laughed “Yes they are. I’m Y/n. I’m your next door neighbour and I brought over some cookies to just say hi and introduce myself.” You said while holding out the plate of still warm shortbread cookies for her to take. “I’m Yelena.” She smiled back while looking at the cookies wide eyed, then there were footsteps running down the stairs and you could hear the other girl yelling “Yelena don’t talk to strangers!”

It was the red haired girl and she looked over at you with a frown while stepping next to Yelena and pushing her behind as if to shield her from you. Yelena pouted and tried to push past the red haired girl, protesting and saying that you only wanted to say hello and introduce yourself. You just stood there awkwardly holding the plate of cookies in your hand, you started to feel like maybe this was a bad idea…

Then came a young woman asking “Who are you talking to girls?” It was their mom. Before the red head could say anything Yelena piped up saying “Y/n! She’s our new nextdoor neighbour and she brought us cookies!” The young woman stood next to the two girls looking over at you with a gentle smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ma’am.” You stuttered out nervously while handing her the plate of cookies. “Oh please just call me Melina. It’s a pleasure to meet you too Y/n.” She nodded while glancing at the red head who was still glaring at you.

“Natasha, be nice.” Melina scolded the older girl. “I’m sorry for Natasha here. It’s just been a big change for us.” She said while gently patting Natasha’s shoulder. Natasha just huffed before storming upstairs. Frowning slightly you just nodded. “Um- well I better go home now. It’s getting dark but it was a pleasure to meet you and I hope you'll enjoy the cookies.” You stuttered out nervously before quickly turning around and walking back towards your house.

However while leaving you overheard Yelena whisper to her mom “I like her, she seems nice and her shoes are really cool.” After that you just bolted home and ran through the front door straight into your moms arms.

“How’d it go sweetheart?” She asked while pushing your hair out of your forehead. “I gave them the cookies.” You mumbles while hiding your face into her shirt, she could sense that something else was up but decided not to push the issue for now.

Meanwhile…at Yelena’s and Natasha’s house at dinner time

“Natasha, why were you so rude to our new neighbour? We might be here for some time so why not make some friends.” Yelena asked innocently while eating her favourite food made by Melina- mac & cheese. Nat just sighed in return “How do we know that she's not SHIELD and that she won't rat us out?”

Yelena just shrugged and said “So? It doesn't hurt to be nice. Besides, she has really cool shoes.” The redhead looked over at Melina for help, but she just sighed and shook her head. Huffing Natasha pushed her plate away and stormed upstairs to the room she shared with Yelena.

The next day Melina decided that the girls should take back the empty plate to Y/n’s house and offer to be friends. Natasha huffed and rolled her eyes, but after receiving a harsh glare from Melina. She just stood there with a small pout on her face.

~time skip~

You, Natasha & Yelena soon became best friends. It was mostly you and Nat since Yelena sometimes would rather hang out alone on the rusty swing set in their backyard.

One day it was Natasha's birthday, December 3rd. You decided to buy her something small since Yelena mentioned that Nat loved your shoes. So you thought it would be nice if you saved up all of your pocket money to buy her something.

It was a little hard to keep the secret from Natasha since she was always so good at telling when you're lying.

When the day you've been waiting for came you knocked on their door and Yelena opened it and immediately invited you inside. Melina greeted you with a warm hug and smile.

Soon you heard Natasha's footsteps running down the stairs towards you. Seeing you she immediately went to hug you but paused seeing the wrapped box you were holding. “What's that?” She asked curiously while stopping right in front of you. “It's a gift for you. Since I know it's your birthday today and I wanted to get you something small.” You said while handing her the wrapped box.

Her eyes widened and she hugged you tightly, thanking you over and over again. When Natasha opened the gift she gasped and let out a small excited squeal seeing the red converse shoes. The same shoes you had just in a different colour.

Many months later you and Natasha slowly stopped hanging out as much due to school and other responsibilities. One day returning from some after school activities you saw that Natasha and Yelena's house was covered in police tape and there were a ton of police cars and reporters on scene. You froze and immediately ran inside asking your mom what had happened and why were there so many police cars. Seeing you run inside so panicked your mom started to cry while she hugged you tightly. “Oh my baby-” She sobbed while hugging you tightly.

Soon you found out everything. Nat and her family were suspected to be spies for the government of another country. Heading that your heart broke into tiny pieces. You felt betrayed. Was this whole friendship fake? Did Natasha really like you or was it all a facade?

After a while you and your parents decided to move away to New York to start out fresh, you felt sad leaving Ohio but you knew it was for the best.

A few years later you saw Natasha on the TV news. She was now an avenger. You felt slightly bitter that after all this time she never checked up on you or anything. Many months and year passed before the blip happened. Your dad passed away shortly before the blip and 5 years later when you got back, you decided to try and find Natasha again.

Only to find out that she had died. Natasha had sacrificed herself to save the world was what the media said. You didn't believe it and you decided to see for yourself. So you bought a plane ticket to Ohio to try and find out if it was true.

Sadly it was and you found a gravestone with Natasha's full name, birthday and the date of when she had passed. Seeing all the flowers and teddy bears surrounding the gravestone you fell to your knees. You'd never get to tell her how you felt. She was gone.

You didn't realise it but you were followed by someone here. It's not until you heard footsteps on the gravel and your voice being called was when you realised you weren't alone. Turning around you froze- no it couldn't be.zz

The voice then called out again “Y/n/n?”

[caelivir]

the fault of love | orter madl

— synopsis. orter doesn’t make mistakes, but what does that make you?

— pairing. revolution leader!orter x gov. spy!reader (gn)

— genre. angst

— warnings. major character death, description of death using a gun, mention of specific crimes (kidnapping, robbery, blackmail, etc.) none are explicitly described, lmk if i miss any

— word count. ~1.7k

— notes. i stayed up until 5am to finish this i’m so dead; i tried lowercase.. let’s see how i like it. this was fun to write ngl. i hope you enjoy <3

orter madl is a bad person. he was born to be. his entire life was a cycle of left hooks, knife throwing, and gunshots. from an early age he was bound by orders and loyalty. he was raised to lead, raised to be the top in the game. show no mercy to your enemies. be the best.

everything orter does is for the suffering innocents, his family, the organization. he has to do it, even if it goes against all morals. he can’t afford to make mistakes. they’ll hinder him and ruin everything he’s worked hard for. that’s why he shouldn’t get close to anyone. attachments and emotions weaken. they mess with logical judgment, and orter would rather die before letting his emotions make decisions.

yet orter couldn’t stop himself when he got to know you, the clumsy person who spilled coffee all over his suit. he hadn’t meant to, but it was like being a moth to a flame. he sought for you, and you invaded his thoughts at every waking moment. orter wanted nothing more than to see your face, to grasp your hand into his, and to press his adoration for you onto your lips.

and that in itself–that love–would be his downfall. your entrance into orter’s life sparked a long chain of events that brought complications onto the organization that never existed before. he should’ve seen it sooner. he could’ve ended it sooner. but that’s what emotions do. they blind. they’ve blinded him for far too long, and tonight, he’ll finally put an end to it.

hours into the night, orter arrives at the empty warehouse where you’re being kept. he wears a mask over his feelings as he passes by underlings who offer their respects to him. he’s ushered inside. orter spots your figure seated in the center of the wide space. a flurry of emotions surges through him, causing him to order everyone out despite their protests.

orter sighs, taking steps closer to you, becoming more aware of your current state. your hands and legs are tied down to the chair. bruises dot along your skin, and cuts bleed from your lips and forehead. the light in your eyes has gone dead. you stare into nothing.

it pains orter more than any beating he’s ever received. he wants nothing more than to untie you, find a med kit, and clean your wounds just as you always did for him. but he knows he can’t, so he has to tighten his fists, make his knuckles turn a blinding white to hold himself back from caring for you.

he takes the seat across from you, saying nothing despite the mess of sentences bouncing across his mind. you finally pick up your gaze, keeping quiet. no words are exchanged for what feels like hours.

orter’s mask is slipping, cracking ever so slightly as you catch glimpses of confusion, anger, sadness, and nothing all at once. you manage to not betray a single emotion.

orter caves, breaking the silence with a simple question. “why?”

you bite the tip of your tongue, deciding on an answer before you speak incorrectly. “because I had to.”

“had to-” orter cuts himself off with an inhale, rubbing a hand over his face as he abruptly stands. frustration sprouts across every vein in his body. he scoffs. “do you even know what you’ve done? do you know what you’ve cost me?!”

you glare, nose flaring, finally conceding an ounce of emotion. “people are dying because of you! it is my job to stop you.”

“you just don’t understand.”

“understand? understand what?!” you cry, voice ringing through the empty room. “what else is there to understand, orter?!”

orter flinches, unsettled by the abhorrent you carry towards him. it’s unlike you. no. that was never you. it was yet another lie you had fabricated. there’s no point in making you try to see his point of view. there was no way for you two to see eye to eye. it just couldn’t happen with your backgrounds. that doesn’t stop him from trying anyway.

“do they brainwash you over there?”

“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoff.

“the people i’ve killed,” he begins. “do you even know what they did?”

your teeth clench.

“kidnapping, blackmailing, murder, robbery, trafficking, and the list goes on and on and on. they are making people suffer, and it is my job to stop them.” orter echoes your words as a spit to your face. “i know you know it too. deep down you’ve always known.”

“you’re lying.” you deny ferociously.

“the government is enabling them by turning a blind eye. you’re enabling them.” orter declares, pointing a finger at you.

“stop fucking talking!” you scream, voice cracking. you let your head fall, chest rising and falling.

orter doesn’t know what to do. it’s eating him alive, tearing his heart layer by layer. is it possible to get you on his side? but who would trust you? can he still trust you after everything?

“just what are you waiting for?” you eye him, speaking in a quiet voice that’s laced in defeat after minutes of tense silence.

“what?”

“you know why you’re here, orter. finish the job. stop wasting time.” you tilt your head back, daring him.

“y/n-”

“finish the fucking job.” you repeat, seething through pauses, enunciating each word so orter can comprehend the message.

the provocation causes orter to pull his gun on you before his brain can think otherwise. it’s aimed square at your face, yet you remain unafraid, having already accepted your doom.

orter hesitates to pull the trigger. the weapon shakes in his hand no matter how much he tries to steady himself. he has to end this. he has to. orter needs to let your relationship end like this—in rage and hate. but he can’t bring himself too, because there’s a part of him that hopes.

“was any of it real?” he asks, gripping tightly on his gun.

you know exactly what he’s referring to. maybe that’s why you answer quickly with a confident “no.”

that should’ve been enough to make orter finally squeeze the trigger, to finally put a finish to your life, but he stalls longer, taking you in, memorizing each and every line on your face. he sees your beauty even in moments before demise. he takes a step forward, pressing the tip of his firearm to your head, using it as a chance to be near you.

the trigger tightens and tightens to the point where orter thinks he’ll follow through, but the sound of your voice makes it loosen. he drops his aim to his side.

“i can’t tell you that it was real,” you state, and orter begins to see your eyes glaze. each syllable of your following words break. “because if i did, then that would mean you would be right.”

you finally break down, your facade shatters. fat streaks of tears stream down the skin on your cheeks, and you lower your head, letting them fall onto the floor.

“if i told you it was real, then i would have to admit that my year with you has been the happiest i have ever been.” you continue between chokes. “and i can’t let it be real because that would mean that i hurt you again and again and again for no reason at all.”

orter hates your anguished cries. he would give everything to the heavens to make them stop. he can only tighten his strength onto his gun.

“i have to tell myself that it isn’t real… because doing so makes it easier to deny the fact that i love you. and i love you so much, orter.”

orter reacts in what seems to be record time, pressing his lips onto yours with a passion that could set the world on fire. every unspoken word of his is poured into your mind as you move in sync with him. for this one moment, you both forget who you are. the government’s top agent. the leader of a revolution. those are mere titles squashed beneath your foot as you kiss orter with all the love you have yet to return to him.

orter’s hand finds the familiar skin of your face, stained with blood. he commits that warmth into memory, and when you finally pull away to breathe, he loses himself in your irises, examining the details that he grew fond of.

neither of you dare to go for seconds because you knew that if you did, then you would both abandon everything, your responsibilities.

so orter straightens himself up, bringing his trembling hand to hover his weapon centimeters from your forehead.

“do you have any final words?” orter forces out, bringing himself back into the cold, ruthless leader he’s supposed to be.

you grin softly. tears still soak your cheeks. “i’m so sorry. i wish things didn’t have to be this way. maybe, just maybe if we get another chance, we can live the way we wanted, and i could keep bringing you those stupid cream puffs from that bakery we love.

you inhale. “thank you for bringing my heart joy, orter madl.”

a single wet tear drops from his eyes as a familiar string of words escape his throat. “i adore you infinitely, my love.”

orter can feel the next words that bubble on your tongue, and you break out into an even brighter, toothy smile. “is that so?”

he seals his eyes shut. the trigger pulls. a shot echoes through the warehouse. the chair falls back with a clatter. orter doesn’t dare to look. if he did, then there would be nothing stopping him from letting your blood soak the threads of his clothes, screaming your name so loudly that it could reach the heavens.

orter storms out of the warehouse, allowing his subordinates to take care of the rest. and when he's finally alone, orter breaks down. his cries ring through the night. his hands bleed from countless punches he slams onto the floor.

orter madl doesn’t make mistakes, but he made the mistake of loving you.

yet he would do it again.

every single time.

[memberment]

good morning everyone

yes it's 7pm.

no I did not just wake up for the day, but I did just wake up from a nap and honestly all I really did was read trashy webtoons and get like 500 words out meanwhile I have homework due at 3am so I might as well have just woken up.

idk y'all I was rlly sleepy today.

I got through a bunch of fun in Morning Glory but I think I'm switching back over to Revelations again bc lowk I think I can only write so much fluff before I'm like okay where the fuck is the plot???

Idk guys think I might be duo writing atp bc I get bored from things being too good and then devastated bc Revelations is lowk gut wrenching along with the scary shit LMAOO

whatever whatever updates here AFTER I get some of my work done bc goddamn, am I behind.

(12:11) so guys I totally did shit on my physics test but ngl actually kind of understanding what I was doing made me feel like god's favorite questionably gendered royalty so I think I'm gonna force myself to learn physics.

but tomorrow because I actually just spent like five hours working on pulling myself together for said test and I'm kinda dead inside. I'm going back to working on Revelations in the meantime. I'm gonna post Tweek's guide either like later or what you folk constitute as tomorrow (me personally, Tuesday is Tuesday but whatever) because I just do not have the energy to think up a chapter title at the moment. And I know I've mentioned this but y'all I am never waiting to make chapter titles again like they're just getting done as we go now. Summaries too bc FUCK THAT idk why I didn't think this would be an issue literally like THREE MONTHS AGO when these got finished god bless

(2:09) Revelations is at like 3.5k and lowk I am like DRAGGING my feet with this beginning chapter. Like, it's literally just this beginning bit I keep jumping back into my notes to write stuff from later in the fic LMFAOO

Like, I know once I get past 17 it's gonna go so fast but GODDDDD, trying to write the same things but ever so slightly different and then some different events entirely thrown in there is making my head hurt because idk like what exactly I want to include. Like, yes, we get our boys finalizing their contracts. BUT NOW WHAT. LIKE AM I FLESHING OUT THIS ENTIRE MEET UP????

DOES KENNY ACTUALLY EXPLODE AT SAID MEET UP OR AM I MAKING AN EXCUSE FOR THIS???

Bc I do kinda want everyone to see Clyde break his arm for the first time on page. (Speaking of, him and Kenny are talking in this first chapter AND THEY'RE SO FUCKING AWKWARD LIKE IT'S ACTUALLY PAINFUL LMFAOOOO)

but ugh

yk what I'm going back to reading trashy webtoons for the next few business hours bc my best ideas seem to come to me at twilight and it is 2am. LATER!

(6:15) I've decided to force myself to post guide. I swear to god I need like a calendar person to scream at me when I don't post LMAOOOO LIKE I DA WILL FORGET

(6:52) Guys I have re-fallen in love with Lost, my god.

[itsgirlcraft]

Okie dokie mfs hereeee comes the TR weirdcore au!! >:3

This was posted on yt originally, btw.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: blood, unsettling imagery, unreality, paranoia, eyes/mouths where they shouldn't be, body horror

@its-indigos feels like your vibe ngl

Have fun!!! :D

First off, Sabre (thruout series) and a Yellow Steve, then Twisted Rainbow and The Great One:

Next up we've got: Elite/Shadow, M, and Assistant Steve

And finally there's The First Curse, Hypno, and Prof. Red!

I love violence and murder /lh

Shoutout to Ena's Dreamcore Picrew, which is now sadly gone, for the designs! Miss you </3

Sooo- we've got Assistant, Sabre, and Hypno as TV heads, Shadow/Elite as a scribble head/abstract head, M and the Yellow Steve as flower heads, TFC and Twisted as lollipop heads, and Prof. Red and TGO as eye heads.

Idk if that's what you call that but whatever. I had fun with the symbolism :D

Okok so let's just get into the AU first- I'll explain the designs along the way ig-

The AU starts off with the ladybug duo arriving in a weirdcore version of their universe, having changed with it. Since the actual picrew's outfits didn't have hands, they don't have visible hands either. They also notice their outfits are completely different yet slightly emulate their original outfits still. Pretty much everything about their actual appearance is the picrew design entirely, and they notice this.

Later on, eyes appear in the centers of M's roses. At first, Shadow takes on the first design - headless, with an abstract rectangle with question marks around it. Later on, once he recognizes his identity as Sabre's shadow, he has the scribble head with a single eye.

They travel into the core/lab, which has transformed into an ever-changing abandoned building. It is made up of many, many weirdcore and edited real-world images, constantly shifting. At first, it has no door and directly leads into the core, where they find Assistant's strangely non-mechanical body laying in a pool of blood. The inside of the core looks more like an abandoned house than a labratory or anything like it's canon appearance.

M tries to pick up the broken machine, but Assistant begins to glitch...physically, clipping through the ground, spazzing out, like you'd see happen to an npc. Shadow is wary, warning M not to touch them. At first, he listens. But concern for both his uncle and the robot brings him to grab them protectively, just as they glitch again...

M's and Assistant's heads swap, leaving M catatonic and Prof. Red awake. Shadow was about to attack, or run, he wasn't sure what, but he remembered that this machine mattered a lot to M. And if this machine has a sentience, he's going to get answers, whatever this...thing is that's swapped heads with the poor apprentice.

Prof. Red, still without a voice, manages to get Shadow to explain. He tries his best, explaining that M tried to help Assistant and that the whole world had become strange. Unable to communicate much, Prof. Red had to turn to using the blood on the ground to write on the wall. Shadow asked him, "who are you, and why does M care for you so much?" The half-dead scientist responded, "uncle of M."

Things started to click for Shadow at last, but he still had so many more questions. But he knew the one he wanted to ask. "If the world were normal, I'd be able to see that you, too, are a Red Steve, since you and M are related. If the world were normal, the robot's head could just be taken off.. But things aren't normal anymore. I don't know why you're... apparently inside that robot, or how long. But if you're willing to, can you try taking that robot's head off? I don't want to lose him..." Prof. Red nodded, knowing what may happen to him if this just reverses the head swap. The glitch intensified as Prof. Red held M, still trapped in Assistant's body. And once again, trapped in his own creation.

M woke up, disoriented, the pain in his neck vanishing. His eyes opened up, only to see the fallen body of Assistant Steve holding him, completely unresponsive. M rushed to stand up, and looked to Shadow, and then to the words written in blood. "Your uncle is in there. He returned to...whatever this fate is, for you.." Shadow said, nervously looking at what once was a machine. The glitching started almost as soon as he'd spoken.

M jumped, not wanting to go through..that again. M was uncertain what to do now, unwilling to leave his uncle behind, but unsure how to save him without sacrificing himself. Shadow convinced him to look for help or resources, since clearly Prof. Red didn't want M sacrificing himself for him, and M reluctantly left the core with Shadow.

In the ruins and dying forest, things are still strange. Above the duo, the sky is lined with eyes and symbols and patterns. Some patterns hurt to look at, too bright and yet somehow alluring to stare up at. They moved quickly into the shade of the trees that still had leaves, avoiding the sky as much as possible. The trees had strange eyes in their knots and in the dark spaces between leaves, but things felt a little safer when unexposed to the sky. The grass and dirt squished strangely beneath their feet, not unlike flesh or rubber. Something... different.

They kept moving. Looking. Trying to ignore the questions that came with every step. But then they saw a strange glow coming from between the trees, and an all too familiar voice with it... Sabre. Neither were prepared to face him, whatever he'd become. But what arrived was not the vengeful man he'd been before. (They're all more or less from the beginning of the last episode, forgot to mention that.)

Sabre wore a long sleeved, white shirt with a collar, and where his head should've been was a broken TV with a deep red heart on it, casting a strong glow against the forest around him. But most notable was his fear. He was just as scared as them. He was from the past, before this world had wronged him. Before Shadow had hurt him.

Shadow wasn't sure if he should be relieved or terrified, but he certainly felt both. As was M. Sabre didn't know where he was, but he knew this world wasn't normal. He didn't know normal, but he knew this...wasn't right. He knew he shouldn't be casting a glow on anything he looks at, he knows trees and skies don't have eyes.

But all he wanted was to find a person. Anyone at all. A tree with eyes is not a person. They didn't respond to his cries of loneliness. He saw the duo and couldn't tell if they, like so much else, were unresponsive and silent. Objects. But when he finally saw M had eyes that looked back at him, he knew they were real. "Hello?"

Silence.

Maybe he was wrong.

"Hello? Are you...okay?"

"I knew it! I knew you were real!!" Sabre was so excited to finally find someone out here that he completely disregarded the question. He started running towards them, the heart beating against the cracked monitor. And then stopped, realizing they flinched as he grew near. "...sorry. I got excited.."

"...it's alright."

Sabre noticed the one lacking a head at all was the one speaking, while the rose-headed one simply watched. It didn't scare him. Being alone scared him.

"Sorry if I scared you, I've been wandering around here for so long..I was starting to think I was completely alone." Shadow noticed Sabre's heart glitch, just like Assistant, when he mentioned being alone.

"I get it. We've been looking around...found things we didn't want to see. I wasn't sure what was out here."

"Oh? What kind of- wait yeah right I shouldn't ask..." he looked up at the sky, illuminating the treetops. "This place doesn't really make sense.."

"It really doesn't, even our clothes are different, it's so small but so obvious."

Sabre looked at his own outfit.

"Oh, that's what it is! Something kept feeling strange, I couldn't put my finger on it. ...And that everything glows when I look at it. Do you know why that's happening?"

"Oh, your head is uh..mechanical? It has a glowing screen."

"Wait, mechanical?" He reached up to touch his face. "Wha..it's totally flat..?" The heart glitched to an eye. "This..doesn't feel right..." The eye kept glancing around quickly, trying to understand what was happening. "Can you..describe it?" Fear was settling into his voice.

Shadow glanced to M. M pushed him as if to say, "this is your mess, now clean it up!" Shadow looked back to Sabre. "You have a black box with rounded edges, the screen has cracked glass. Beneath the screen, there's several dials and buttons. The screen shows a de-saturated green background. Originally it had a deep red heart on it, but when you got scared, it changed to an eye quickly glancing around." The green background temporarily shifted to monochrome static, before Sabre let his hands down. It returned to green, and, eventually, the heart.

"...thanks. That..makes me feel a little better. It's hard to find anywhere to see yourself properly. It's all weird and broken.."

"..yeah it is. Are you.. okay?"

"...I don't know. I'm just happy to find someone else out here."

"..."

"...What's your name? I'm Sabre..."

"Uh. I'm.. This is M. I'm...Elite."

"Oh, okay. Nice to meet you two."

Shadow kept thinking about the glitch. If it happened to Sabre, but he kept standing, then... No, there's no way that'd work. But if it did.. He wasn't sure if Sabre would agree, much less actually do it once he got to the core. But Shadow kept wondering. Finally, he asked.

"I know we've just met, but the way your heart changed to the eye...it reminds me of something we saw earlier, when M tried to help someone. We found this robot completely unconscious, and M tried to lift them, but then they glitched. Their body just...went out of wack. And when M tried to help again, they glitched while he was holding them, and the two..swapped heads?"

"What?"

"I don't know. But there was someone inside the robot, M's uncle. He tried helping M, but he swapped back and fell unconscious again. I don't know if it'd work, but it seems your screen glitches the same way and you're okay still... Maybe there's hope..?"

"Oh... so M's uncle is trapped in a robot? And it attached..itself to M when he tried helping them?"

"Yeah, pretty much.."

M looked excited but concerned.

"I wanna help. I don't really know what you want me to do, but sure. Helping someone is always important to me!" Sabre's heart beat stronger against the glass.

M nodded, still wondering if this was a good idea.

"..M thanks you. Are you sure you want to try this? The whole...swapping heads thing was terrifying, just from an outside perspective. And I should probably mention, the robot was laying in a pool of blood..."

"Blood?" Sabre gulped. "Well...I'll still try. I don't like blood. But things are so weird around here...it's practically worse than blood."

The trio went back to the core, but the interior changed. Now it had its elevator back, creaky and rusty, but working. A single light flickered menacingly inside. "This is...different?"

"What?"

"There was no door here, and it led straight into like..an abandoned house? But now there's an elevator here..?" Shadow contemplated whether they should do this or not. He looked to M, and remembered why they're doing this. "We can still try if you want, Sabre."

"Sure. I wasn't here before, so...I don't know what to expect."

They rode the elevator down. Its familiar mechanical screech was not comforting to M. It only reminded him of an echo of the past. Cold air flowed in from the core room. The red mass glowed strangely dim, its light barely touching the walls of the massive room.

"Where to..?" Sabre piped up first.

"Uh..to the right I think. M knows this place well.." Shadow looked up towards the walls around the elevator, recalling the fight he had with Sabre. He swore he could still see the green glow of the hole Sabre punched him through..

They followed M to where Assistant was usually held. Within the labratory room, the telltale blood could be seen even from the hallway. The robot was slightly more mechanical now. The orange long sleeve shirt was replaced with a short sleeved version, revealing rusted metal plating with peeling orange paint. Their jeans were now ripped, revealing pistons and torn wires in their knees.

"O..Oh...this is what you meant. I see..." Sabre tried to contain his nervousness, but seeing the ruined robot and room sent shivers up his spine.

M was the first to walk in. He knelt by Assistant, noticing the bloody words of his uncle still on the wall. The glitch revealed itself again. Sabre jumped, but stayed silent. It stopped just as suddenly as it'd started.

Sabre walked up to M. "Should I try just lifting them or try taking...off...the..head..?" He mumbled.

"Sorry, M can't speak. His voice is gone somehow..."

"Oh. Uh..nod once if lifting, twice if taking off the head."

He nodded once.

"Okay..well, uh, stand back just in case."

Sabre took a deep breath, waiting for the body to stop glitching. He picked up Assistant by the shoulders, setting them down away from the blood. He let them glitch again. He picked them up again with ease, and stood there, practically hugging them.

Waiting.

They glitched together.

Sabre held his breath.

Nothing happened.

"Oh thank God you're okay-" Shadow started, before Sabre looked at M. M nodded twice.

Sabre set Assistant down, and held their head with two hands. He tugged on it. Glitched. Again. He could feel a liquid dripping on his hands. He looked to M. M nodded. He tried again. On the third try, the TV flung off, making Sabre fall backwards. It wasn't just blood, but oil on his hands. It had splattered on the ground and walls around him. He dropped the TV carefully, disgusted, and looked up to Assistant. A single large, red eye opened where the TV once was.

[acidrain39]

this is probably like. the stupidest tging to post on new years eve but i need to yap about it.

so uh theres this game i really like, its called OMORI & its a psychological horror rpg (not super scary to me but the characters are beautifully written & the story is sad as fuck). in its fandom theres quite a lot of shipping & theres one ship that really confuses me (sunny x omori aka omosun)

its like pseudo selfcest???? not really since its some guy (sunny) x the manifestation of his shitty ass coping mechanism (omori) that happens to be suspiciously his pre-trauma self shaped. but the thing is, this ship kind of fucks up the main plot of the game (not in an enjoyable, au way).

to make this a bit more clear to others since i mainly post about mcr,(+ in my more active days in the OMORI fandom i only had pinterest, now that i have tumblr the fandom is kinda Dead! ngl) in this game, sunny has gone through a highly traumatic event, which made him not leave his house for approx. 4 years & create a very rich inside world (accessed through his dreams) where his life is Still Perfectly Fine & he goes through some silly fun adventures with his friends while his brain suppresses the memories of said traumatic event & basically anything slightly related to it.

this reality also has a way more idealistic version of his friends, looking over their flaws & struggles. in this dream world (referred ro as headspace in the game), sunny isnt exactly the one going through these silly shenanigans, but rather omori, an idealized version of him that also symbolizes a fuck ton of stuff ill get into a bit later.

in OMORIs storyline, sunny ends up leaving his house to say goodbye to his friend kel (hes moving out of his town in a few days), and he ends up having to deal with the fact that his friends changed a lot ever since the last time he saw them, which consequently leads him to slowly figure out what happened that made hm traumatized & fractured his friend group, and that also makes him confront his very way of coping (also confronting the manifestation of that, omori).

omori as a character is very weird because hes more composed of symbolism & metaphors rather than being an actual tangible guy? even sunnys trauma demon is more normal than this guy. like not only is he an idealized version of sunny & a manifestation of his way of coping, but the way he despises sunny and wants to kill him is also a metaphor for how sunny just fuckinh hates himself and wants ro die????? who is this fuckin guy????? like yeah it makes sense that omrois going to further sunnys character but hes still weird. not like thats a bad thing though

the reason why omosun really confuses me is that if you were to make sunny & omori want to make out or something, youd not onky be completely fucking up their character dynamic, but youd qlso kinda disregard the games whole story.

like i guess if you wanted to portray this ship as a toxic ass relationship to symbolize how sunnys coping mechanism is only really messimg him up i guess thatd be interesting (wouldnt appeal to me but is still a solid concept ig) but from what ive seen of it peopel juts genuinely think that its cute & want to see them make out or do even more things…. also theres always some dynamic where sunnys an uwu soft boy & omori is like an alpha male that protects him?????

also the way omori was portrayed in the fanarts ive unfortunately seen was just l*libait. he would not fucking act like that hes not 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 hes a freak as in he is creepy & weird & will kill you stop drawing this guy thats already physically 12 years old as someone who looks 9 in sexual situations youre gross i will find you and send you to the deepest, darkest pits of hell Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge style.

if anyone actually read this i just want to say sorry for this situation i just needed to get this out of my system

uhhh have some silly mcr pics thatll probably make you feel a but better

[rantsofabookworm]

music recommendations i think you’d like:

lil ugly mane- weirdo rap? hip hop? random sound effects mixed with wacky lyrics? but it’s good, very chaotic, you’d like their song “porcelain slightly” i think :D

jann- this one dude who writes absolutely gut-wrenching lyrics, paired with simple piano/guitar/various chill instrumental things. my personal fave song is either “need a break” or “promise”

faouzia- THE BEST FUCKING VOCALS YOU WILL EVER HEAR HOW TF CAN SHE SING LIKE THIS???? plus the lyrics and music itself is just lovely :D i especially like the song “100 bandaids” and “bad dreams”

younger hunger- really good beat & chill music & it’s kinda punky? all the songs give off you vibes, especially “dead inside,” and my fave is probably “dead or alive” :D

pussy riot- feminist very lesbian vibes, mix of pop music and heavy metal, it’s great, you’d love it. song rec: “panic attack”

sueco- amazing. top tier. peak of my music taste. it’s terrible. emo vibes? idfk lmao- my fave song by them is “today” :D my old fave song of all times used to be their song “loser”

ethan bortnick- piano. very good piano. very good lyrics and very good piano. all around great music. my fave song is “engravings”

spill tab- i haven’t listened to much of their music but the vibes kinda fit? very indie shit, main song of theirs that i’ve heard is “cotton candy” and i love that song :D

SKYLAR- british. im sorry, she’s british. but the lyricsssss- it’s so fucking good. and it’s all very good music to listen to with headphones in and the volume cranked up to 100% haha- i really can’t pick a fave song by her, but you’d probably like the song “hair tie” cause it feels very gay (it’s not, but it really is haha)

belaganas- i fucking love them. my fave song of all times is their song “crumbs” but absolutely all their songs are fire. they write mostly rap, but that song isn’t really rap haha- and it’s like rap in a cool way haha (im not a huge rap person, but i will blast this shit)

i hope you listen to or enjoy any of these lol- if you don’t that’s chill too :D

AWWWW you're so sweet lmao

-youre gay

-youre a fucking nerd

-ive heard of pussy riot I think but I haven't heard any of their shit

-adding this to the list but I'm ngl it's entirely possible I'll executive dysfunction out of listening to anything at all sorryyy

-fuck you cunt

[fully-caulked-wagon]

Some of my favourite lines/passages from my shitty Aidungeon Zosan fanfics Part 7

Pretend that part 6 never said '(final)'. Pretend right now. Fic 4 (Again cause I've added like, 11,000 words to it since I posted the first fic 4 part.):

If his legs twitch in anticipation of a fight anymore than they are now, he's sure he'll come down with a severe case of the dancing plague. Dancing, being code for 28 rage-induced kicks to the cranium of dickhead sheriffs. - Don't ask me why I decided to reference a meme as dead as '28 stab wounds' cause I honestly don't know. Sanji startles slightly, running a hand through the back of his hair and sighing, "Right. Right. Yeah. See ya, I guess. If I die, make sure I'm buried by the lovely hands of Nami-Swan and Robin dear. And don't touch my kitchen." Zoro huffs and rolls his eyes, "If you die, we're throwing you straight in the bin." - "When I die, just throw me in the trash!" - Danny Devito Sanji stretches his arms high above his head and cracks his neck, "I'll be back before the Mosshead even has the chance to get lost in his own thoughts." "Oi!" - This is like, right after the previous excerpt, I just wanted to separate them. "Fucking Christ. Stupid fucking Marimo and his dumbass being right." - What a fool, what a nincompoop, what a buffoon, what an imbecile, what an ignoramus. Also - Jesus Christ canonically in One Piece verse, question mark exclamation mark? In fairness, he doesn't have to sneak through too many thin alleyways - none other than today, in fact. Getting shit talked by the mosshead, on the other hand? Not so mercifully infrequent. - Oof. Usopp is sat rigidly in his seat with a small smile on his face as the mosshead stacks the most miniscule fucking deck of cards Sanji has ever seen atop Usopp's nose - it somehow managing to have reached monstrous heights - while the scent of a stroke Sanji's almost convinced he's having wafts from the plate of 'buttered toast' Cal is munching on on the sidelines. - I just liked the phrase 'the scent of a stroke', honestly. Might be one of those things where it's only funny to me, idk. "Usopp thought you were dead!" Maria follows up calmly, "Zoro wished you were dead." - Double oof. Sanji's about however long it would take to read the full list of vegetables Luffy would willingly eat over meat - that is to say, a second at best, from growling. - This whole fic is just one big test of Sanji's patience, ngl. Sanji sighs and lets his head hit the table, a hollow 'thunk' ringing in his ears, the ringing growing stronger as the mosshead snorts in an unattractive and not at all endearing way, "That sound was your skull, shit Cook." "That sound was your brain trying to come up with original insults, jackass, shut up." "Scathing." "You don't even know what that means." - Triple oof. Sanji thanks the impending dread that fills the room for stopping him from blatantly swooning. - Ah, existential doom. A fickle mistress. Franky gives a low whistle, "Hot. ...I think." - There's a lot of things that are questionably hot in this world. Franky will fuck every last one of them. Sanji can feel his fucking ears turning red, damn this stupid perceptive bastard, "Che. I was just trying to figure out if your brain was small enough for a metal pole to go in one ear and out the other without making contact." "Bastard." - Goddamn shrubbery and their fucking observation haki. On his right there's a door labelled 'bathroom' that, once he opens it briefly to glance inside, gives way to a small room that can only really be called a bathroom on the technicality that the thing in the corner is probably a bath and the amount of space the area takes up is probably enough to be considered a room. - Ah, hotels. (Technically it's an inn, but shh.) Robin freezes in place once they reach the saloon, tilting her head slightly as she inquires to Franky, "By any chance, have you been rattling?" Franky simply smirks and opens up the door to his stomach fridge and extends a tiny hand in to fish out a pair of sea stone handcuffs, spinning it around on one finger and chuckling, "Maybe." - Dude just rattles sometimes, don't worry about it. Robin places a hand to her cheek, "Oh my. Perhaps this passageway has a connection to the future? It would be a shame if we passed through, and our bodies slowly aged and shrivelled up until we were nothing but bones and bolts." Franky sweats slightly, replying slightly shakily, "Yeah, that's uh... That's- Th... Please stop being so ominous. It's SUPER freakin' me out." - Yo. That would suck, I think. Franky chuckles, calming down somewhat, "Yeah, well, not in this case. I don't exactly find the slow, agonising aging of my body until I rot away particularly sexy - sorry." Robin hums, "That's fair, I suppose." - This is again almost immediately after the previous excerpt but yada yada. A couple beats of silence pass and Franky leans down and mutters, "Do I need to eeny-meeny-miny-moe this again, or...? I'm down for charging blindly in a random direction too if you are." - Again. Implying he's done that before. I refuse to think about the implications of that.

[soleilocverse]

Ch 19 Commentary

"Cyrill takes it gently and rubs his thumbs over the two fleshy bumps at the bottom of his palm, not scenting yet."

u have NO IDEA. how much i wanted to call the bottom part of soleil's palm the "ball of his hand" but google was like ? ??? ? ?HUH? that has always been referred to as the "ball of ur hand" in my head so imagine my >> when i was like. wait. is that a thing (thinking it might not be a thing. which it is not dHFSKJDF)

“Have a seat and I’ll let you know in just a sec~”

This line makes me so happy for some reason? Just like, Cyrill's penchant for showing off overriding any thought he might have for it worrying Soleil? Cyrill really Does like showing off and I feel he hasn't had as much of a chance to do so but now that everyone's getting more comfortable w/ each other, he's letting himself do that more. Also i think he's just getting a little pent-up which makes him want to act out more, and part of acting out is being a bit of a show-off.

this for sure relates to him saying he's "scented with a cutie" and immediately wishing he hadn't, bc he doesn't want to overwhelm soleil/make him uncomfortable but it's a lot harder to Not be so loose/flippant when they're getting more comfortable around each other. (i've hopefully left it ambiguous enough as to what soleil Is feeling about that slip. it's not just cyrill's POV, i think soleil is just straight up having unclear feelings about that interaction)

Ray breaks his concentration because he emerges from where he’s been in his office and unlocks the door from the inside first and exits through.

Aaa, it's not like, a Long-term solution bc it's just not possible that someone's going to be home every time + able to get to the door when someone else is coming home but, trying to spare Soleil that panic right after a Fresh reminder of how much the dead bolt upsets him, makes me soft. (tho maybe it's not the Most effective method either since he didn't actually tell soleil he was going to do it. so the two of them each sat there with some brainpower dedicated to waiting for the others to get home. i have more thoughts on this/their relationship/the way they interact (or don't interact) with each other but they r stewing still and not yet words.)

"'Is there anything else I can help with?' He asks and sits up straight when Cyrill turns towards him."

This interaction is pinging me so hard. I think it's that he's p much completely at ease, he's not asking out of anxiety or bc he thinks he Should be helping

And then - "He sits up primly, with his hands in his lap, when he’s done.

'Anything else?' He asks with a tilt of his head and a swish of his tail. He quickly quiets his tail."

i'm ngl i think it would make cyrill slightly insane @ soleil sitting up straight, waiting for direction, and smelling so sweet and pleased. also I am going insane bc genuinely, soleil just wants to be pleasing and liked and to be safe (and those three are currently all bundled together). and i'm thinking about the pyramid of needs now, i think this section gets me so good bc soleil would Also like to be told he's done a good job/Feel like he's done a good job and he has so rarely had the opportunity for either, esp not for smth he actually Enjoys. so his ease and soft eagerness here makes me want to crawl up some walls. I think it's also funny that he then immediately brushes off cyrill's thanks. "Oh, it was nothing." Not to you it wasn't!! And not to him either!!

“Yes.” He forces himself to say even though his throat is tight. “Yes, I—”

Originally, this line was "Yes, I want that." and then he looks down to his lap but then upon reread, brain was like WOAH that's so forward of him idk about all that just yet, even tho he's riding the high of this successful candle making. and then it was a "yes, I—i'd like that" but then it was so succinct/abrupt in terms of the Structure and still slightly too forward but then i realized, like. he's genuinely choked up by emotion anyway. he can force himself to say the first Yes because he wants to make sure cyrill hears his answer (and he's good at forcing out answers, Yes's especially) but the rest of it is all uncharted territory and i was like, ah yeah, ig he just Doesn't say the rest of that and it Does actually work for his chara.

SNEEZES, me realizing cyrill and soleil paralleling each other here-->cyrill saying he Wants wrt doing puzzles/naps etc again, and hoping soleil can hear just how much in his voice. soleil being unable to Say he wants but hoping cyrill can see it in his face. lies down, they r so,,, earnest and dear to me and trying so hard, lies down again

CLIFFHANGER? ahskf idt it's Quite dramatic enough to be called a cliffy but :3 esp compared to my usual tendency to wrap things up softly

this ch was broken off of last bc it was getting too long and while this ch was genuinely a bunch of plot-relevant padding/set up (setting up soleil being able to let someone else watch over ness, esp while he himself is napping. what i just pointed out @ wanting to feel like he's done a good job, another set-up for going out somewhere together) i was also like. i need to pack in the fluff bc we r about to take a trip back to angst town. here comes one of those two (three.....four?) steps back moments in the "healing is not linear" vibe

Ness quickly bustles over to pull down the blanket that hangs over that side of the couch and to lay it over Soleil, uncomfortably using him as a prop and pressing all his weight through one arm straight onto Soleil’s ribs so he can reach it.

Forgot I wanted to talk about this bit bc!! Like, I was just thinking about how bony and heavy and not-body-conscious toddlers can be and like! Ness is getting used to being able to do all of that, like in ch 17 where he throws himself into Soleil's lap in the park (and that doesn't end so well), his default is changing from worrying about pressing on bruises/really Hurting his mother or even considering that to be a possibility which is great! That's absolutely the better scenario in Soleil's eyes, even if it means now he's stressed about a more squirmy, wriggly, energetic Ness (but that stress will lessen over time too ^^ as his default changes from worrying that Ness will be Too Much). And i think ness will also slowly work out these new boundaries look like ^^

[pikispixies]

prepare yourselves for THE Spencer Reid series everyone!!! The only Spencer Reid series if you will😌✨

prepare yourself for my word splat below xx

something i looooveee about your cm fics, sunny, is how true the dialogue feels to the source material! Not just the dialogue actually but everything about the inner workings of the team and the dynamics between them all feel so real and authentic to cm. It immerses me in a way that I sometimes can’t find in other case fics!

The part where Spencer sees reader’s application among the potential victims feels so visceral. Like I can see the thoughts running through his head as I’m reading them and I can see the gears turning on his face, I can picture it so well!! And I attribute my ability to see it so well to you, Sunny dear!

This part-

There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 

-lowkey destroys me. I selfishly hope that Sebby looks EXACTLY like Spencer just to rub salt in the wound, I’m a sucker for stuff like that🤭

also this-

“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 

“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 

It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 

season 1/2 Spencer with a baby does make me giggle i’m ngl coz he was so baby face in the early seasons. But! I do agree that whenever we go see Spencer interact with kids in cm he is really good with them. This series will do Dad!Spencer such justice I just know it

anddd

Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 

this makes me so excited for a future chap where we get to see Sebby and Spencer interact. It would be so heartbreaking knowing that you missed out on so much of your child’s life even if you didn’t know they existed like, an hour before that. Even if it was out of your control. I think you wrote that turmoil so well, it itches that angst scratch inside me so well.

AND THEIR FIRST DATE </3

it was soooo Spencer omgggg

His slightly nervouse ramblings about something that reader has expressed her interest in is so sweet to me. And that he was taken aback that reader actually engaged him in conversation about it :(( I would NEVER give you weird looks if you rambled to me about Bach, Spencer. You and your big fat brain are a TREASURE

Even their kiss made me so mushy and giggly. Spencer dropping his ice cream is so early-to-mid-2000s-rom-com of him, I loved that detail so much! Oh to shut Spencer up with a big ol’ smooch *forlorn sigh*

The long and short of it is, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU sunny for sharing your amazing talent with us!! Everything you write has such an immersive and tactile feel to it and I become totally absorbed with it and to me that is something I’m picky about when it comes to what fics I read and enjoy!! I know how much love and work you put into everything you bring here and I hope that you are getting your well deserved flowers 💐💐

Cannot wait till the next part!! You’ve got your hooks in me already <3<3<3<3

Careful - Chapter One

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Over Yet

We can go farther, beyond the end.

Summary:

You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.

That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 5,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?

A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.

...

The team had been in Portland for three days.

No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 

A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 

“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 

He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 

Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 

Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 

Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 

They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 

“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 

She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 

“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 

“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 

“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 

“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 

Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 

“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 

“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 

“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 

“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 

“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 

“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 

He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 

“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 

“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 

“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 

“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 

“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 

Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 

“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 

Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 

“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 

She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 

“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 

“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 

“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 

“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 

This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 

“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 

“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 

“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 

“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 

Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 

“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 

Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 

“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 

A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 

“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 

“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 

“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 

“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 

“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 

“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 

“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 

“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 

“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 

“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 

“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 

… 

The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 

After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 

So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 

“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 

“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 

“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 

The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 

It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 

It was you. 

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 

Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 

Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 

You had a son. 

A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 

And his birth date was… fuck. 

He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 

One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 

Four years, eight months, and two days. 

It wasn’t difficult math. 

Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 

His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  

Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 

Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 

He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 

What the fuck was going on? 

There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 

Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 

“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 

Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 

“Did you find something?” 

… 

All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 

So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 

It could definitely work. 

When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 

So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 

…

“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 

“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 

He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 

“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 

JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 

Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 

Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 

The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 

But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 

Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 

It had been four years. 

JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 

“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 

“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 

“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 

“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 

It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 

“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 

“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 

“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 

“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 

“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 

It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 

“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 

There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 

She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 

So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 

“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 

Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 

“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 

That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 

“One thing at a time, alright?” 

…

When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 

It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 

Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 

He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 

And now the two of you likely had a child together. 

Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 

“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 

She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 

He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 

He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 

Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 

At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 

You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 

Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 

But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 

He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 

“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 

You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 

You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.

So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 

You were breath-taking. 

“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 

You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 

Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 

The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 

… 

He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 

It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 

It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 

Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 

It was a perfect night. 

Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 

His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 

And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 

“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 

You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 

“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 

Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 

“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 

“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 

Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 

“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 

“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 

Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 

“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 

Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 

“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 

“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 

You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 

“Interesting.” You replied. 

“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 

Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 

“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 

Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 

“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 

“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 

“And see-” 

Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 

He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 

It was perfect. You were perfect. 

You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 

But Spencer was nothing like that. 

He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 

When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 

“That was… wow.” He sighed. 

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 

“Well, I - you - wow.” 

It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 

Back then - everything had been perfect. 

He had no clue where it all went so wrong.

...

A/N: I really hope everyone enjoyed the first part! I would really love to see 10 Comments - in the form of replies, comments on reblogs, or asks (anonymous or not) and 20 Reblogs before I post the next part.

The series is technically finished in my drafts and just needs to be edited, but editing is usually the most difficult and tiring for me, and I would love to see some support and love for the series before I continue working on it, knowing that more people want to see me put effort into it. So please do leave a comment - even in the tags of a reblog - telling me what you enjoyed about it if you have read this far. It is much appreciated <33

[buckyalpine]

Boundaries (with fluffy alternative ending)

18 + minors dni

Bucky x reader, Bucky x Sharon (depending on your choice), Steve x Sharon 

Telling you now, I added a fluffy alternative. 

NGL, I had to take a breather after reading this request. Damn. Like before, pick your poison my loves, if pure angst is your thing, just go a head and ignore the fluffy live saving device I added to the end of this because my heart can only take so much. If there's cheating involved, that's not Bucky, that's Bucket. I don’t claim that man. 

Warnings: Smut, ANGSTT (cheating), FLUFF!!! (if you want it, feel free to ignore it if you’re desperate for some angst, idk) 

Word count: 1.7k

Part 2 (angst)

-

You took a sip from your drink, trying to keep up with the conversation around you as you scanned the room looking for Bucky. You smiled, excusing yourself, deciding it was getting late. He’d want to leave soon, he hated parties anyway and he’d only agreed to go because Steve was coming. Sam had already taken Steve up to his room after he enjoyed too many shots of Asgardian mead.

You pushed yourself through the crowd of people, growing worried when you couldn’t find him, you knew he got anxious in crowds and you felt a pang of guilt for asking him to come. You figured Bucky wouldn’t mind, especially since Steve and Sharon had come and he enjoyed their company.

You exited the crowded room, pulling out your phone to call him, walking down the empty hall. You passed an office, stopping dead in your tracks hearing the voices that were inside.

“You like the taste of daddy’s cock baby? Get it nice and wet baby, use that slutty mouth”

No.

“That’s right you my little cockslut, suck daddy’s fat cock”

No.

“Choke on my cock baby, take it down your throat, there you go, so gorgeous, you like that? You like having my cock in your mouth don’t you”

He wouldn’t.

You stayed frozen on the spot, your hands shaking as you tried to call his phone. Straight to voice mail.

Your could feel your head spinning, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned the door knob, silently slipping into the room, hidden behind a corner, gripping the wall to keep from falling.

Your stomach dropped, you couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t. How could he?!

Bucky’s head was thrown back in pleasure, his legs spread apart with his jeans pulled down slightly, grabbing Sharon’s hair, pushing her head down to take his entire length. She gagged on his cock, moaning, tears streaming down her cheeks, letting the tip his back of her throat. All her clothes were thrown off, leaving her completely bare, on her knees in front of him, letting him use her mouth like a flesh light.

“Oh fuck, slobber on it baby, take it down your throat, take it-shit”

He pulled her off his cock, grabbing her waist and turning her around, lining up his cock with her soaked entrance, spearing into her with one stroke, groaning as she cried out.

“Go ahead and ride daddy’s cock baby, soak daddy’s cock with that slutty pussy”

Sharon screamed as she bounced on Bucky’s cock, her eyes rolling back in pleasure as he tugged at her nipples, his metal hand rubbing tights circles onto her clit.

You felt your heart shatter into pieces, your palms bleeding with how hard you were clenching your fists. You choked back sobs, forcing yourself to remain silent, they couldn’t know you were there. You couldn’t let them see you.

“F-Fuck daddy, you’re cock’s so fucking b-big” She slammed down onto him, swallowing his entire length, letting it bruise her cervix, her walls fluttering and clenching as he rubbed her clit faster.

“Can feel you squeezing me baby, you gonna come for daddy?”

“Y-Yeah!” Sharons moans were pornographic, as he grabbed her hair, yanking her back, growling in her ear. “Oh god please daddy, I wanna cum, wanna make a mess all over daddys thick fucking cock!”

“Whose slut are you baby, who owns this fucking pussy?!”

“M’daddys slut, daddys little whore, fuck feels so good, pussy is all yours!”

“Who makes you cum like this baby, can Steve make you feel this good?”Bucky started to chase his high, thrusting up into her meeting her hips.

“Only you daddy, no one else, fuck I’m gonna cum!” Tears spilled from her cheeks as he fucked into her, groaning, his cock throbbing.

“Cum with me baby, this pussy is fucking mine, all fucking mine!” They both moaned in unison, Bucky’s arms holding her still for a moment before pulling her off his cock.

Bucky groaned, tucking his cock back into his jeans, trying to straighten his clothes slightly. Sharon slipped her dress back on, using her fingers to comb through her hair.

“Thanks baby, needed that” Sharon giggled, kissing Bucky’s cheek, carding her fingers through his hair.

“Anytime” Bucky smirked, “But you know, we can’t keep doing this. We gotta stop at some point”

“Well, what they don’t know can’t hurt them soldier” She shrugged, biting her lip with a smirk as they made their way towards the door.

“You’re insatiable” Bucky chuckled, following her out as if nothing happened. He hoped it’d never stop. 

Stop here if you’re an angst fiend. 

Alternative ending: - Everything above are Sharon’s thoughts. 

Wanda shifted uncomfortably in her seat while Sharon stared at Bucky, lost in her darkest fantasies, taking a sip from her beer. The blonde glared at you for a moment before looking at Bucky again, despising the way he held you on his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck, kissing you every moment he could. If she could have her way with him…

“You know, I can hear and see your thoughts” A faint glow crossed her eyes before she took a deep breath in, trying to control herself.

Sharon flinched, tearing her eyes away from her boyfriend’s best friend, turning to Wanda, plastering a smile on her face.

“I don’t understand what you mean”

“You’re thoughts. What you were thinking just now. I can see them, hear them” Wanda stared at her, cocking her head slightly; curious to know what excuse she’d defend herself with. This wasn’t the first time, but it was certainly the worst.

“Oh, come on, I can’t help it! You’re telling me you’ve never thought of something a little forbidden, it’s nothing serious!” Sharon laughed nervously, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

“But the level of details you added, even a fantasy has limits. You want to hurt them to get what you want, how the fuck could you” A few faint sparks danced on her finger tips as she stared at the blonde, daring her to defend her desires.

“Who does she want to hurt” Steve, Sam and Nat walked over, having picked up on bits of the conversation, giving into their curiosity.

“Seems like a breach of privacy Wands” Sharon tried to play it off, her face turning red, heart racing slightly as the two red heads glared at her.

“It’s not something I can control, believe me, it’s not something I wanted to see” Wanda challenged back, getting out of her stool stepping towards the blonde. “Give me one good reason to not tell the others about your intentions”

“You’re making this such a big deal when it’s none of your business” Sharon spat, her hands shaking as she tried to casually continue to sip her drink. Steve rolled his eyes, regardless of what this was about; he knew he should have broken up with her weeks ago.

“Explain” Nat’s eyebrow quirked, “If it’s not a big deal, then just tell us what it was” Nat’s face was unreadable as she stood in front of Sharon, waiting for her to answer.

“I-, Sharon swallowed thickly, clenching her jaw, closing her eyes before speaking, - I thought about someone else, okay? That’s all”

Wanda scoffed, taking another step towards Sharon, “Please. Don’t spare us the details, tell us about how you want y/n to walk in on you and Bucky”

“What the hell is wrong with you” Sam gawked, though it wasn’t surprising. He’d caught her trying to sneak glances and touch Bucky plenty of times.

Sharon gasped, her mouth gaping, shaking her head. “No! No I- She looked to Steve who was picking at his nails.

“Shocker” Steve shook his head, taking a swing of his beer.  He truthfully couldn’t care less; the only thing that bothered him was that she wanted to break you and his best friend up. He smirked at Sharon before making his way over to Tony’s newest assistant. She was incredibly sweet and she had a very obvious crush on the Captain. Honestly, the feelings were mutual. They were immediately engaged in deep conversation and his heart fluttered. The last time he felt that spark was in the 1940s.  

“Look’s like Steve is going to be fine” Nat smiled, “Now about y/n and Barnes” The red head glared at Sharon as she started to collect her things, rolling her eyes as if she had done nothing wrong.

“Should we tell them?” Wanda looked over to where you and Bucky were swaying on the dance floor. Bucky’s forehead rested on yours, wrapping his arms around you, looking at you with heart eyes. He held you close to him, whispering sweet nothings to you the entire time, kissing you all over, making you giggle, shyly hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, have you seen him? He’s the biggest simp over her, I’m not worried about them” Sam grinned, watching Bucky give your ass a playful squeeze before you moved his hands back on your waist. “Good God, those two need a room”

“He’s whipped. In a sweet way” Nat agreed, smiling as you made your way over to get a drink. Every time you got up to get a drink or snack, he’d follow you like a lost puppy, trailing behind you, never leaving your side.

“Whose whipped” Bucky and you walked over to the group, curiously eyeing a distressed looking Sharon and she shoved her way between you, making a hasty exit.

“You tinman, I have never seen a bigger simp in my entire life”

“No m’not” Bucky pouted, though he was hugging you protectively, resting his head on your shoulder. “I just really love my girlfriend a lot” He shrugged, nuzzling his face into you.

“For fucks sake, go be cute somewhere else” Sam rolled his eyes, but on the inside, seeing the way you made Bucky happy warmed his heart.

“Can’t help it, she’s all I think about, she’s my babydoll”

“Yeah right” You shook your head as your needy boyfriend whined when you shifted out of his arms to sit on a stool to sip o your drink. “I can’t be the only thing you think about Bucky”

“No, hes right. I’ve had the misfortune of seeing his thoughts” Wanda rolled her eyes; you were the only thing that was ever on his mind. “Like it or not, you’re whipped Barnes”

“What thoughts” You looked at Wanda confused as she blushed, shaking her head. Bucky smirked, a wicked smile flashing across his face before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Baby, what are you doing?!”

“Those thoughts she was talking about. Don’t worry baby, I’ll show you”

-

Angst only part 2

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @needybabygirlstuff @goldylions​ @inkedaztec​

[monstrouslyobsessed]

For a concept : A male Palasik/Krasue is in love with a human darling. He tries to hide his true nature but one night, reader sees his transformation (his head ripping itself from his body, his spine and organs following the head). Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: ngl…i had a bit of hard time taking this one seriously (it’s…a floating head with organs hanging out from the neck. that was…it). because it had cultural impacts in the east, i’m iffy on writing krasue as is. krasue are almost always women from what i’ve read, so i can probably get away with my re-imagining. so this is not krasue but something inspired by it.

still, if my depiction is in any way offensive, please, please tell me and I will either rewrite the whole thing or take it down entirely. 

also, idk how to tag this one because the monster aint dead???? how do I even tag this. help.

—tw / tags: gn reader, horror, gore, grossness, nonconsensual kissing, body horror, teratophilia, exophilia, general yandere themes, sfw-ish.

—featured character(s): the neighbor / the disembodied

Your neighbor was a bit of the dodgy man, but harmless. Every Sunday he’d bring you a plate of his cooking, his smile friendly but looking entirely too out of place with his thick, cotton scarf. Even during hot weather, he'd wear it, often tucking half his face inside it.

You'd...never saw him without.

He had a penchant for wearing long-sleeved clothing too, but his scarf was simply more noticeable.

Still, he was charming and had you giggling at his vulgar jokes. He was just an ordinary man with odd quirks. Your mind would sometimes wandered away from its tasks to think of other things he did, some adorable and other..more inappropriate thoughts to have for a mere neighbor. You mused on thoughts of how he would look underneath his scarf, if there was a button undone on his shirt, if it would be warm and comfortable under there, and what it might be like to run your fingers through his hair.

Or how nice it'd be to kiss him right here on your front porch.

Alright, you might've been drawn to him and his scarf didn't bother you that much.

You took a courageous breath and stopped your neighbor from descending your front steps in time. "W...would you like to eat with me?" You asked nervously, voice wavering slightly.

The man blinked owlishly up at you, before a grin blossomed through his warm gaze. You couldn't see his kissable lips through that damned scarf of his,  but you got flustered just by imagining them against yours. His eyes sparkled with joy as he nodded eagerly. "That sounds very lovely," he accepted, holding a gloved hand to his chest and bowing dramatically.

And that was how your relationship with your neighbor deepened into one of mutual attraction.

Not once had he raised any red flag for you, beyond his strange fixation on keeping his damn scarf on. Even when you'd asked him why, he'd never give you straight answers, fumbling over his words and shaking his head in refusal. You wished you’d pushed him to say something months ago, when you and he became an item.

As sickening, squelching noises rose to your ears and your hands glued to your mouth to muffle all whimpers and sobs from your lips, you wondered that maybe you'd imagined what you'd seen not too long ago. Tucking yourself tighter in the corner, concealed by a bookcase and desk, trembles wracked your body and you let out quiet, hiccuping breaths that popped your ears a little. You wished so hard to cry and scream and slap yourself, to wake up now, instead of dreaming about someone touching your thighs and the back of your neck, or feeling those hands pull gently at your clothes until they tear.

Knowing what you’d seen, that 'someone' was not a man but something else entirely, touching you with two grotesque-looking claws. Bloodied bones and a bit of red flesh still attached, violating you in your latest imaginations. Bile rose, but you bit into your tongue and willed your body to comply.

The noises grew louder, and you shuddered in disgust. It was as if something sticky and slimy was being pulled and pushed around, curdling a nauseating noise that echoed throughout the house. The sound was like a mixture of a wet slurp and a soft squelch. Each time you heard it, your skin crawled. The longer you listened, the more intense the noises became,  and every second added to nausea, twisting your stomach uncomfortably in knots. You wanted to close your eyes and pretend this was all a nightmare.

It was all just a nightmare—

You wanted to vomit.

"—, dearrrr..." A slap rang throughout the hard floor—and another slap followed. You stiffened at hearing your name, your heart pounding against your ribcage, as the strange sounds halted. A movement slapping against wood sounded, and the same terrifying sticky noise followed once more. "...dear, darling, darl—" The voice began again, softer this time, to that same sweet tone you were so used to hearing that it left your body in a quiver and your eyes growing wet again. "—dear..." And then it was silent, and you heard nothing but your own harsh breathing, echoing through the quaint office. You squeezed your tearful eyes shut, your fingers clutching the edges of the bookcase tightly, willing it all to stop. "Oh,"

Horror crept through every inch of your body, chilling your limbs and making your blood run cold, when you realized the voice was inside the room with you. Your eyes shot open the moment his voice crooned into your ears and the urge to scream blared throughout your mind—yet your throat refused to open, as you met a large pair of round eyes, staring unblinkingly back at you.

"There you are...!" His lipless mouth crackled, the permanent grin of bloodied teeth stretching wide on his blood-caked skull. It only made his grotesque visage worse, "my darling~"

You gagged on your breath, helpless as he lunged forward, grappling you by your ankle, and dragged you to his skeletal—no, his near-fleshless torso. Your vision blurred, as tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving trails of salty moisture, as you screamed and kicked at his bony hands. He leaned closer, a sickening crunch of vertebrae—thankfully not yours, snapping as he dragged your body across the ground toward his half-skeletal form. Your nails dug into the skin on his wrist—or what was left behind on his bones when he'd all but violently torn his own skin off in the front of your very eyes.

You clenched your eyes shut, now sobbing, as the disembodied monster slathered his bloodied tongue to lick your tears. With every shift of a movement, he'd bled more on your ruined clothing. You did not want to see his true form, a legless skeletal creature with organs dragging out in a tangle from his torso, fleshy and wet.

His exposed heart fluttered and beat against the inside of his ribs, pulsating painfully at the sight of you and hearing your desperate cries. He licked your cheek, and his tongue was slick against your skin, tasting of copper and salt. It wandered closer to your lips. Before you could rip your face away from his tongue, hard teeth pressed onto yours into a gruesome kiss. A shudder racked your frame, feeling sick, and your entire body seized as his disgusting tongue slipped between your teeth, pushing and pulling as his fleshy mouth forced itself deeper. With his free hand, he grabbed your chin and twisted harshly, forcing you open wider as you tried miserably to fight back—

"I love you," the monster rasped into your ear, brushing his hard nostrils on your earlobe, as his tongue brushed along your collarbone, "I love you," He repeated, nuzzling into your neck as you sobbed and gagged in disgust, trying sincerely to shove him off of your body. He seemed to laugh, pressing his fleshy mouth against your cheek in a disgusting kiss, "I love you—so very, very much.”

You wished so badly you hadn’t seen the abnormalities under his scarf and seen the truth of what he truly was.

A hard lesson for you to learn to never drop by your partner’s house, unannounced.

—end

partially edited as of 3.19.23

[phoenix-drop-villager]

so the day started peaceful right. woke up to Donna squealing about being engaged (they got engaged a week ago and she still wakes me up like this) . Logan’s chill and gives me some free sewing needles and thread and says it’s because of Donna pestering him but I’m pretty sure I’ve just grown on him. anyway I walked on over to the lordships house because Levins burrowed himself into cold dead heart and I’m actually excited to see his cute baby self everyday. I’m usually there from morning to evening the past few weeks because it’s nice to have something to do and definitely not because Zoeys maternal presence soothes my mommy issues and Levin is adorable and I don’t want to leave. But this time I stay until it’s nighttime because Donna gets home late and the babe house is painfully lonely and the moment I step out the front door to go home I see red eyes and a face that says murder so I fucking scream of course and then realize it’s Zenix and scream again because ngl he’s always been creepy and I run back inside and shut front door and he’s trying to fucking get in so I barricade the door and I’m yelling for Zoey so she runs up and sees what’s happening and hands me the baby and tells me to go downstairs and she starts doing some barrier magic stuff so I run to the baby’s room, trying to soothe said baby because now he’s awake and freaked out, and tuck myself in the corner of the room while clutching the child and there’s fucking explosions and shit happening. And the next few hours were just that. Listening to random explosions and hearing what literally sounds like a battle going on outside the house and demented roaring from Zenix I guess. and im just rocking Levin, wondering if everyone’s dead or dying.

It isn’t until the sun has come up that everything’s quiet and Zoey comes downstairs to tell me everything’s fine and Zenix is gone. but everything is very much not fine and more then half the village is blown up and there’s only a hand full of villagers now and I immediately ran to the plaza to see if Donnas alive and she is thank Irene but she was a whole mess, sobbing while tending to a unconscious librarian, because she thought I died. but everyone I’ve lowkey grown attached to is alive so. i guess maybe it is fine.

the lord returned from her travels in time to see the aftermath and I guess Garroth lost his helmet so I went down to the mines where he was hiding to give him a scarf to at least hide half his face since he’s honestly become kinda big brotherly. like asking how I am and shit and lightly making fun of me but still helping when I tend to my pathetic garden and me making fun of him for being scared of changing Levins diaper. I don’t really feel awkward around him anymore. anyway I go down to the mines only to see and hear the lady talking to him and. I guess Zenix is responsible for a lord dying and came here to kill Levin? And Lady Aphmau is just. Saying these 2 things are unrelated. so I dashed on over to the dead lords house to grab a slightly soot covered baby toy and brought it to Levin and I have never seen him so excited over a toy before. so.

[benevolentcalamity]

Rescue Mission [Yautja (Wakate) x Fem!Reader] Pt.3 [Final]

Ngl! I feel like without having seen a single movie of the Yautja I’m doing one pretty well! Even for just skimming their wiki and shit, haha. Hopefully you guys like Wakate too.

Also I do understand there’s like... different kinds of Yautja? Like their head shapes and color schemes are different? I’ll need to reread that bit.

For now, enjoy! This is the last installment of this trilogy - let me know if you dig it! (Thinking about writing an epilogue.)

I did wind up changing my mind about this being a smut fic. This situation doesn’t have the buildup I require, so just let me get comfortable with these big guys before any of that, ok?

Also! Let me know if you want all this to become an actual full fic, because the storylines are interesting me, finally! (But that feel when that requires you facing your thing about body horror and watching the movies for deeper understanding...)

“I’m still not entirely sure why you feel this necessary.” Wakate’s voice is more confused than his normal irritation. “Normally any sort of contact with a Xenomorph spells death, especially for you humans.”

You pause from washing off [Redacted], keeping her clothes on or nearby to preserve her dignity.

“I’d have seen those hand scorpion looking things dead nearby if she was infested, and from examining her she seems to be okay, at least for now,” You mention. “They have a special medical facility at the base, something that gives us some chance of survival.”

This isn’t a lie. After the realization of a past and shamefully repeated threat, the Ripley Project, named for the first person to survive an encounter with Xenomorphs, was created. Consistent study of these creatures all the way down to the composition of their brains - samples brought back from an expedition for this purpose - is ever-evolving and expanding. What’s tragic, however, is you and the next generation won’t get to see the project be completed. You and future soldiers will use upgrading technology, yes, but it will be possibly decades, centuries even, before a human can stand a chance one-on-one.

You barely made it by the skin of your teeth, and you’re considered one of the best.

“Hence our recent communications with the Yautja as well,” You add, combing your fingers through her hair. “We’ve been attempting to come to some middle ground with the different tribes, but we end up fighting more than shaking hands instead.”

“And what about you? Where do you stand?” It’s an honest question, especially from him.

Momentarily you look off in thought. “I’ve been recommended for promotion. As I stand now I don’t have the biggest inside looks on the actual project itself.”

“As for [Redated]?”

Swallowing, you check her pulse. She’s stable. “... I actually don’t know. They say a good few years after the project formally started, she was brought back to us. A leftover from the Ergoproxy Station, I think is the story.” You pause, pouring more water over her. “There was some Xenomorphs...” You trail off, noticing something off.

Lifting her shirt up above her tearing grey sports bra, you recoil with an uneven shriek.

Smack dab beneath her ribs is an ugly patch of scar tissue, suggesting an injury repeatedly opened back up and inflicted. At first glance it looks more like she was impaled on a pole, but when you take a closer look at how it’s formed, it almost looks like...

Your face blanches. “... Hey, Wakate... Take a look at this, if you’d be so kind.”

Almost immediately after you request it he’s right beside you, kneeling down and lifting [Redacted] slightly to get a better look at the scar. His enormous finger prods and pokes it, him looking from slightly different angles. Eventually he lifts his head, looking toward you.

“Do you know how Xenomorphs reproduce, Ooman?” He questions, and you nod. “This is not a wound from the outside in.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” It really doesn’t. “The chestburster method is supposed to be fatal.”

“Either the actual parasite can travel, or she’s tremendously unlucky.” He’s audibly rolling his eyes. “This particular Ooman’s an odd one.”

Wetting your lips, you raise your hand to your communicator. “Johnson, come in.”

“[Name], evac’s going to be there in thirty, the hell you want?” His uncharacteristic testiness has you momentarily recoiling. “... Apologies. The commander’s been up my ass about the operation.”

“Cry me a river,” You sigh. “Listen, do you or I have access to the files of the Ergoproxy Station incident?”

“... Negative.”

Furrowing your brow, you try not to snap at him. “Well, who does?”

“The scientists, bioengineers, the whole nine yards, all involved with this damn project. The commander, too.”

“Why would they keep those files from us?”

“Beats me... Will that be all?”

You huff. “Yes. Ending communication.”

The moment your finger releases the communicator button, you slump, almost tempted to hit yourself in the forehead. Letting out a sharp, aggravated breath through puffed cheeks, you try to relax, scooping [Redacted]’s hand up in yours. Squeezing it slightly, you lift your head back up, straightening your back to look towards Wakate, now looking a bit more relaxed.

“What’ll you do now, Wakate?” You’re wholly aware you two are a good team, maybe even starting to bond. Whatever the case may be, you just want to know if he’ll be okay.

“My hunt is over, and you retrieved your friend. So, our alliance has served its purpose,” He responds. “My ship will be back soon. In the meanwhile I’ll be combing this island for anything that might’ve escaped the nest.”

You swallow. “Well then I’m staying.”

His mandibles flare. “You said yourself you’re out of bullets, and you’re inadept with what you have still. You’ll be fodder before you even take a breath.” His voice is stern, almost harsh, but even you can pick up the undertone of care. Once you do, his large hand is on your arm. “You fought well, and proven yourself a worthy Ooman. Do not throw that away.”

“But...” You tilt your head slightly. “How will I know you’re okay?”

He snorts. “You don’t need to be concerned about me. You’re quick and resourceful, and equally I am strong and agile. If you can make it that long in the nest, I can survive the island.”

Only mildly assured, you nod. “Okay...”

For a moment, you’re both in silence. There’s no reason for him to stay beside you, other than whatever’s going on in his head. You like thinking maybe he’s just looking after you and [Redacted] until your chopper arrives, but there’s probably something else. Perhaps what he’ll do when he gets back home, wherever home may be for him.

“... Wakate,” You say after a moment.

“What?”

“When [Redacted] and I get back to the base, I’m going to see if I can access the files to Ergoproxy station. If I can get those, I can probably find out about her too.” You put your hand over the scar under her shirt. “If what you said is true, then she’s been through a whole lot more than we know.”

“And what’ll happen when you do find all that?” He sounds... doubtful? You’re not sure.

“I’ll prevent it from happening again.” A newfound resolution creeps onto your tongue. “And if there’s more I’ll put a stop to it. To hell with retirement - if this is more than just her, someone’s gonna have to answer for it.”

A moment, and he erupts in laughter. Confused, you turn back towards him, tilting your head, before he puts a hand on it.

“I was right to believe in you!” He guffaws. “Alright then. Hopefully we’ll see each other again when your next hunt begins.”

“Hopefully...” Your voice trails off at the telltale buffering of an engine.

Raising your head you look aside, seeing the helicopter closing in from just over the horizon. As it approaches the trio of you, you stand up, raising your arm high and waving. Before you know it a ladder drops down as the chopper door opens. Colonel Weiss, initially confusing to see, leans out and waves back at you.

“[Last Name]!” He shouts.

“Sir!” You respond, giving him a quick salute.

“You’re both in one piece, thank god! Now just get her and let’s get the hell out of here!” His voice is normally crusty but he sounds like he’s been smoking so many cigarettes on the way. Even the actual smoke radiates off him and he doesn’t even have one in his mouth.

Turning, you lift [Redacted] into your arms, approaching the ladder as Weiss descends. Softly passing her over to him, you fail to notice the displeasure on his face as you turn back towards Wakate. Feeling the colonel going back up the ladder to secure her, you clear your throat, approaching him yet again.

“You are not staying,” He reiterates, helmet on his hip.

“Not planning to.” You know it’s what’s best. So, you manage a smile, holding your hand out. “Well... so long, Wakate.”

He looks down at your hand, his mandibles rubbing together. Before long he shakes his head. “I have a better idea.”

Blinking, you watch him set his helmet aside, swinging his arms before turning back to you. Momentarily you fear him trying to strangle you now that he has no further business with you, but then you’re surprised when he closes the distance. Before you know it your cheek’s pressed to his chest plate, and his arms effortlessly hold you.

... Oh. OH.

Holy fucking shit.

Ignoring your back popping slightly, you do reciprocate his attempt at a hug. Sadly he is so huge that you have your arms almost stretched out completely to your sides, your forearms only barely touching his back. As though aware of your frailty he’s clearly just hanging his arms; you shudder at the possibility of his true strength.

... Yep. He’ll be just fine.

“Be safe, Wakate.” The helicopter is loud, so you are hopeful he doesn’t hear.

“Stay alive long enough for us to meet again.” It’s practically an order. “If my ship returns again and you’ve expired, I’ll drag you back from whatever afterlife you end up in and hunt you down.”

You chortle, raising your voice so you’re audible. “You too, don’t you dare die to anything!”

“[LAST NAME]! STOP HUGGING THE YAUTJA AND LET’S GO!” Weiss about screams through the helicoper.

You scoff. Asshole... “... See you around, Wakate.”

Reluctantly, you break from him, patting his arm as his almost serpentine eyes blink along with him nodding.

“Good hunting, Ooman.”

___

“So from what I understand, [Redacted] was snatched and dragged into this island’s nest, right?”

“Correct, sir.” You finish patching your injuries, having prioritized [Redacted] and risked infection; you must’ve had more injuries from your fight with that Xenomorph than you thought. “We confirmed the death of the queen, and suddenly we were ambushed by a Xenomorph.”

“I see.” His shift to being calm is... odd. “And that’s when you met the Yautja?”

“His name is Wakate, sir.” You wipe some sweat from your forehead. “He helped me find the nest and retrieve [Redacted]. If not for him I’d be long dead.”

“Never expected you to make friends with one of them, but what matters is all three of you made it.” He reaches over and pats your leg. “You’re sure to get that promo, hopefully. By the looks of it you’ve been through hell.”

“And dragged myself out of it, too. I killed a Xenomorph - might’ve been the one that snatched her, too.” There’s an odd pride in your chest, only swelling when his eyes brighten slightly.

“That’s great news. You were always one of the best - maybe you’ll be the best, with some more time with this line of work.” He contemplates his cigars and lighter, before his better judgment puts them back in his pocket. “There’s a good fat paycheck waiting for you. Maybe some vacation time, if you’re up for it.”

“I’d like to be able to stay in contact if I do, keep in the know about [Redacted],” You affirm. “I do want a vacation, but her health is just as important as mine.”

“Granted. I can tell, after all, that this is very important to you.” Then his chest bounces with a laugh as he leans back. “This takes me back. When you were raised to this rank and put on this work, we had just recently recruited [Redacted]. Girl couldn’t even say her own name or talk to anyone, but then you came along and she actually acted human.” His eyes crinkle with a smile. “... It was meant to be, [Last Name].”

“I’m honored you regard both of us so highly, sir,” You nod, giving an appreciative smile. “I hope we keep pleasing you.”

“I know you will.”

“And sir?” You lean on your thighs.

“Yes?”

“Do you... happen to know something about Ergoproxy Station?”