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ms--lobotomy · 3 days

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Happy Mermay to all who celebrate! Here's the beginning of a little series with Mothman. [Next]

Summary: You and your crew are called in to rescue a large beached mammal. The creature is more human than you expected.

Word Count: 1301

Content Warnings: Injury and blood, needles/injections, Morty's kind of a prick but he's HURTING ok??

Image Credit: @squishyowl (the tentacles fit really well here)

It was beginning to get ungodly hot out this time of year, even at this time in the morning. You'd woke up, donned a tank top and some shorts and went out with a team of wildlife rescuers from the aquarium nearest you, ready for anything. From the conversation between the other six rescuers, you gathered that it was a rather large, mammalian creature. A manatee, most likely. You shuffled your feet, excited for your first manatee rescue. Other animals were quite nice too, you'd just never rescued an entire beached manatee before.

The vehicle pulled up at the beach, not bothering to find a parking spot. You exited the vehicle with your coworkers, grabbing supplies for marine mammal rescue. Looking at the ground, you bumped into the tallest one, a large, bulky man you'd known as Typhus.

"Sorry!" you exclaimed, and he chuckled in front of you.

"You're okay," he said as you and your team found your way to the boardwalks. Typhus and some of the more physically strong members were carrying the stretcher, you were carrying one of the signs for civilians to keep away. You never knew who would be at the beach at 4 am.

The two at the front stopped dead in their tracks when they saw what was beached. You ran into Typhus's back again as he stopped suddenly, and he didn't respond. You peeked out from behind him, and your eyes widened.

"No way..." the other at the front said, a short, portly girl with a brown ponytail. She shone her phone light on the merman in front of everyone.

You were the first to come up to him, running towards him from behind Typhus. He and the rest followed you, but he didn't break out into a sprint like you did, your sneakers digging into the rough sand. As you came closer, you heard faint cries in a low, raspy voice.

You knelt next to him after casting the sign aside. He was pale, paler than most people you'd seen. His hair was stark white, but his face wasn't too lined. His eyes were seaweed green, and his tail shone in the phone light. It was yellow and green, spotted with a forked tail. He was large, very large. Your head and torso combined were less than his torso. And he was covered in scars, fresh and still bleeding. There was blood pooling in the sand.

"You're..." you said as Typhus and then the others came up to you, standing behind you.

The merman groaned, moving onto his side to face your entourage. "Who are you," he rasped, retreating back into himself.

"We... we're here from the local aquarium," you said as you and a few others began to dress his wounds. He winced as you touched them, towels lapping up fresh blood. "We're going to fix you up for a bit and then release you, okay?"

You felt one of the others' stares hot on your back. You looked behind you towards a shorter man, skinny with hair going just beyond his shoulders. He looked down, and you turned back and cleared your throat. He regarded all of you with a glare.

"Release me now," he huffed.

"I..." you started before Typhus cleared his throat. He knelt down next to you.

"We can't release you," said Typhus. He was closer to his face, and you looked at him. He had a little bit of scruff on his face, and his olive skin glowed in the light of the phone flashlight.

"That's bullshit," cried a voice from behind you. You turned to see another shorter man with cropped hair. "If the government finds out about this guy, they're going to take him and..." he stopped, folding his hands.

You gulped. "He's right," you said. "We get a lot of our funding from the state. If they find out he's a merman, they might do things to him that I personally don't want," I said.

"Well, are you just going to release him then?" asked a girl just a little taller than you. She crossed her arms as you ran your towel along another wound.

"I can go back--" he started before you interjected.

"There's a saltwater pool at the place I rent," you said. "I'm sorry, but we can't let you out like this. We're going to give you some stitches in the van, and then you're going to stay in my pool until you recover. After that, I promise we can release you."

He sighed. "Fine," he huffed. "My father will be wondering where I am, though..."

"He'll know in due time," you said as the stronger members of your team began to hoist him onto the stretcher. His tail and his head peeked off of it, and you dashed towards his head to steady it. He looked at you with a gruff expression as he was carried off of the beach and onto the boardwalk.

"Look. I barely know you, but my job is to keep you safe and healthy, alright?" you said quietly towards him. "Can you tell me your name, at least?"

"Mortarion."

"That's lovely, Mortarion. I'm..." you said your name just like you've said it a thousand times before.

He grumbled in response as you hauled him off of the boardwalk and into the vehicle. The back was filled with medical supplies, old things repurposed into animal rehabilitation equipment. But what was before you teetered on the precipice between animal and man like you had never seen before.

"Quickly!" shouted the last one to get in the van. They put on a long white lab coat, tying back their long blonde hair as the rest of the team rushed around them. "Get me the anesthetic."

You turned around. There was a general anesthetic behind you. Perfect. You grabbed it and strode over towards the doctor, putting it in their hand.

"It might take me a while to find his veins," they whispered in your ear. "Can you... can you calm him down while I figure him out?"

"Yes, Stella," you nodded, looking at him. He was groaning in pain again, his eyes half open. You sheepishly walked your way down to him and knelt to his eye level. His hair was in his face, so you brushed it out of him. He recoiled at first, but after breathing a little bit, he relaxed.

"We're here to help you," you said quietly while the rest of the group scurried around you.

"You've said that," he sighed. "I want to go back."

"Whatever hurt you hurt you good," you replied. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? I promise you it will be a few weeks at the most."

"I suppose I don't have a choice in the matter," he said. Stella grabbed his arm, looking for a place to insert the needle.

"How well do you do with needles?" you asked, assuming they had needles underwater.

"I am nothing if not resilient," he grumbled. "A needle is nothing."

"Alright, I found a vein, I'm about to inject him," said Stella.

"Okay, Mortarion," you started. "You're going to be knocked out for this, but we're going to stitch up your wounds. You're going to recover in my pool for a short period, then we're going to release you. Then you can tell your father everything that happened. I promise you, you're going to be safe here." You grabbed for his free hand, and he let you take it, your fingers barely able to mesh with his.

"Very well," he sighed.

"Alright, it's going in in 3... 2... 1..."

"Count for me," you said.

"Just count?" he asked, puzzled.

"That's what the doctor told me to do when I went under last time."

"Doctor?" he asked. "Alright. One, two..."

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #mortarion x reader #reader insert #mermay #mermay 2024 #mortarion #warhammer lobotomy #he is a mahi mahi by the way!#idk i just thought it suited him

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occasionalsnippets · 2 days

Note

Do you have any new fic recs?

Uhh no notes for this time because i'm busy but fic rec part 2 :)

again mix of stuff, gen, romance, x reader, etc etc. some of the crossovers are in random sections b/c i can't be bothered to have a whole separate thing for each crossover

check back in like 2 years maybe for another list

Mashle

Mashig! [Quotev]

Easton’s Prefect Trio and a Round of Old Maid [AO3]

KNY

Determination [Quotev]

Candid [Quotev]

beware the dust devil. [AO3]

The life and times of Kibutsuji Muzan, Bored Immortal Guy [AO3]

the awakening of the demon king [AO3]

BNHA

An Unexpected Training Trip [AO3] [Naruto crossover]

The Future's Keeper [Quotev]

Record of Ragnorak

Ganymede [Quotev]

Obey Me

The Idiot [Quotev]

One Piece

World-Seeing Eyes [Quotev]

Black Butler

my soul, you know it aches for you [Quotev]

Hush, little baby, don't say a word [AO3]

The Art of Mortal Quests [AO3] [Percy Jackson Crossover]

what goes around [AO3]

Ain't No Compass, Ain't No Map [AO3]

DP x DC

Unable to Forward [AO3]

The Peacock Chronicles [AO3]

Putting the Joy in Joyride [AO3]

Dead Man Walking [AO3]

If You Give a Bat a Burger [AO3]

Danny the Intern [AO3]

Wait, I'm a what? [AO3

Ghost in the Morgue [AO3]

Bus to Nowhere [AO3]

DC x Marvel

Untangling the Web [AO3]

Help Me, I Don't Feel Like Myself Anymore [AO3]

Spider and Bat Friends [AO3]

Dark Matter [AO3]

Undertale

Ghost Hunting With Skeletons [AO3]

Help, I've Fallen Into a Surveillance State and I Can't Get Up! [AO3]

Turn The Page [AO3]

with you here between [AO3]

bon courage [AO3]

JJBA

passione speedrun any percent (world record) [AO3]

Naruto

Healthy Coping Mechanisms [AO3]

Last Resort [AO3] [DC crossover]

complete disarray [AO3]

Morpheme [AO3]

JJK

limited vision [AO3]

obito and jjk is occupying my brain and in this essay i will [AO3] [Naruto crossover]

TWST

Team Building Exercises [AO3]

You Will Understand Now That Yours Is Unique in All the World [AO3]

Isekai as the Side Character Destined for Intoxication [AO3]

the seven habits of highly unfortunate souls: a transmigrator’s guide to the coral sea [AO3]

Debut or Die

I must debut (or die) [AO3]

RESET [AO3]

Vacation [AO3]

Date or Die! [AO3]

Shokugeki no Soma

and only the bitterness remains. [AO3]

SVSSS

The Cultivating Force [AO3] [Star Wars crossover]

Misinformation [AO3]

Master of Dual Cultivation [AO3]

Scum Villain's White Lotus Halo [AO3]

how to avoid love for dummies [AO3]

ORV

bet i made you look [AO3]

The Reborn Villainess Can't Possibly Be This Cute! [AO3]

One Kim Dokja to Rule them All [AO3]

you got me starstruck [AO3]

“You are loved,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. “This is a threat,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. [AO3]

TCF

black dragons and white crowns [AO3]

THE GOD'S SYSTEM [AO3]

What Lies ahead [AO3]

Amaranthine [AO3]

Treasure of the (Vampire) Duke's Family?! [AO3]

The Distress of the Middleman [AO3]

everybody talks [AO3]

0% Love [AO3]

Genshin Impact

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑 [AO3]

Bleach

living, not breathing [AO3]

The Fourth Seat [AO3]

Indelible Stains [AO3]

半个花瓣 || Petal Fragment [AO3]

Nothing but the Truth [AO3]

Chilled Peaches [AO3]

Not exactly pushing daisies [AO3]

Bait and Switch [AO3]

The Unfought [AO3]

Sight [AO3]

Swinging Pendulum [AO3]

KnB

Ball Is Life, But You Still Need To Pay Rent [AO3]

Tokyo Revengers

all for one [AO3]

if trouble must come (let it come) [AO3]

Marbled Elbows [AO3]

Original

Chain Me Up, Darling [Quotev]

Anomalous [Quotev]

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fictional-orphan-smackdown · 21 hours

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Round 2, match 1!

All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut

Peter Parker/Spiderman (He's from a lot of things)

Orphaned twice over

Both of Peter's parents are dead so he's raised by his aunt and uncle, his uncle dies as part of his origin story. His aunt often dies eventually too, but she may come back depending on continuity (ex. Peter in the comics made a deal with the devil to sacrifice his marriage and child to bring Aunt May back)

It’s Spider-Man guys. Coolest guy ever.

The Baudelaire Orphans (A Series of Unfortunate Events)

The epitome of orphans, they’re the best

“I’m having a very terrible childhood right now”-Klaus

The story deadass begins with them being told that their parents died in a fire and that they're orphans now. They then bounce from guardian to guardian who tend to always meet a gruesome fate at the hands of Count Olaf. Not only have they been orphaned once, but have been orphaned multiple times and are called "The Baudelaire Orphans" by not only characters in the book but by the narrator himself. They're called "The Baudelaire Orphans" so many times that it might as well be a defining character trait of theirs, and honestly it sort've is. The series doesn't even end with them finding a home or guardians of any kind, it ends with the Baudelaires fate being completely ambiguous with them literally sailing away from the island they were stranded on in the final book (yeah this series is quite the journey, I highly suggest it). These poor three kids are probably the most orphaned kids of all time since their orphaned in a new way almost every book and they deserve at least one win in their unfortunate tale.

These guys are like the poster-child of orphaning, we open the series with them finding out that they're orphans and also have no access to their money so now they hop around from place to place from weirdo caretaker to another weird/crazy/murderous caretaker and it's all fun and games and murder and decieving and surviving and thriving and---my point is, these three are a wonderful trio of siblings who love and rely on one another through all their trials and tribulations.

Literally every single one of their problems come from being orphans. They’re continually referred to as orphans and the plot of the first half of the series is them being shuffled around to guardians.

These kids are so orphaned they never even get a found family outside themselves. At least most stories featuring orphaned kids see them fulfill some sorta epic destiny or have them find a new home or set of loved ones of sorts. The Baudelaires? They're thrown from one fucking failure of a home into the next, ignored, hunted, etc.. It's been years but like, even in the end, they still have to set sail alone. As individual characters, they aren't bad either. Violet's the dependable big sister who's knack for inventions comes in handy, Klaus is a well-read chap and Sunny is a lovely gremlin. They make a good trio.

Every single guardian they try to obtain throughout the series turns out to be someone who wants the large inheritance left for them and is willing to do whatever it takes to get it.

They basically fend for themselves the whole series when no adult will listern to them. The whole series is them being resourceful and clever the whole series despite the misfortune. Violet is a brilliant inventor, Klaus reads and collects knowledge, and Sunny learns to be a good cook over the series

their parents die tragically in a fire and then everything awful proceeds to happen to them

I haven't read these books in years but if any orphans deserve to win a smackdown it's these fools, they are constantly in the trenches in those books goddamn. Also that baby is like a shredder they have that on their side, I think that beast literally solo'd a snake?

(This one was specifically for Klaus, but I'll put it here still) He and his sisters being orphans is kinda the point. As in many books, it's the trigger for them to change lives and navigating hardships. The thing is, their hardships just grow worse and "unfortunate" (read "dreadful") events keep happening to them as they stick together instead of the story getting better. Klaus and Violet become Sunny's subtitute parents and get through their more and more miserable lives together keeping hope things would eventually get better

Arguably more famously orphaned than Bruce Wayne, if not for how their story happens while they’re orphaned children versus an orphaned adult. Definitely have the most famously tragic post-orphaning story. All three are incredibly brilliant in their own way, including the literal baby. Pursued relentlessly by the leader of a maniacal theater troupe and letdown by a slew of adults, so it’s all the more impressive how amazing they each turned out to be. Book series was so good it got turned into a pretty great movie and then a successful TV show years later. Also can’t forget how these three are orphaned repeatedly as the distant relatives who take them in get killed off in increasingly inventive manners. Let’s be honest, ain’t no characters out here orphaning like the Baudelaire orphans.

this series taught me so many cool words and phrases and I love each of the 3 main characters so much

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny are peddled from caretaker to caretaker over the course of 13 books, always being chased by the evil Count Olaf who wants to steal the Baudelaire fortune that the children are meant to inherit once they reach a certain age.

Spoilers ahead, the Baudelaires siblings story starts with them going from being the Baudelaire kids to the Baudelaire orphans, after their parents pass away in a mysterious fire. But they arent the only paternal figures that they lost, they go from tutor to tutor, almost all the good ones dying in front of them, and even the ones that survive at first their future is uncertain since the last time the kids see them they are blindfolded in a burnind building, and we never found out who make it out alive and who didnt. Even the main villian, Count Olaf their first tutor, and the only constant adult in their life after their parents death ends up dying in front of them. These three are orphans ten times over.

They are THE orphans. They have lost not only their parents but multiple guardians that they went to live with as well.

They're THE Orphans. The childhood book orphans we all read, Orphans Prime if you will. They lose their parents, every caregiver who's ever kind to them, then say fuck it and live on a deserted island on their own to raise themselves abd fully embrace their orphan status. On the island, they learn their parents survived the shipwreck then died again - double orphaning even.

OH MY SWEET LITTLE CHILDREN THAT FUELED MY LOVE FOR READING AND THE MACABRE Violet- Won her first of many invention competitions when she was five with an automatic rolling pin (comprised of a window shade and six pairs of roller skates). Extremely innovative and genius, foiled by her kindness to others. And she knows how to make a Molotov cocktail. Klaus- Absolute monster of a bibliophile, conducts research for fun, and has a photographic memory. He is known to want nothing more than "a good book, a comfy chair, and the warm glow of a reading lamp". He also is a Herman Melville fan, which is points for him in my book. Sunny- Most people know her only for her penchant for biting, but Sunny is a distinctly distinguished character. She has sharp wit (as long as you can read it through her babbles), her poker skills are phenomenal for a baby, and she has quite the knack for cooking! Also yeah, the teeth. She climbed an elevator shaft with them once.

They are constantly going through it, give these kids a break for real

#poll #marvel #spiderman #peter parker #a series of unfortunate events #violet baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #sunny baudelaire

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xoxovalrea · 1 day

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Ifhy. Fugishiro m. + !fem reader

🎀Based on this audio🎀

༊*·˚ Warnings- hatefuck-ish, rude words, alcohol use, mentions of weed, dom megumi, sub reader, smut

༊*·˚ A/n: pretend megumi is gojos bsf cus this isn’t like yuji😇☺️

༊*·˚ Sypno: You’re at a party you came for one sole reason, your crush. Just to find out he has a gf. Butt things work out in the end.

⋆·˚ ༘ * MINORS DNI🕊️ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

You liked gojo for a while. A while as in one whole college semester and two weeks during the summer. To back track you gave up on him after a party a specific party at that was of course hosted by the man himself Gojo and his dick of a best friend megumi. You three were friends you and megumi were even in the same classes but there was always this tension between you guys.

Anyways, your bestie nobara heard about a party gojo is hosting. Of course being the best friend ever she encourages you to go because “he might see how hot you are and tap that i would too honestly” you hit her and you both laughed in response.

Fast forwarding to the night of the party, you took a nap because shit you were fucking tired from all the beach trips you did previously throughout the week. You woke up two hours prior which was NOT enough time to get ready but who the hell shows up for a party the time it starts? You hopped in the shower cleaning off all the crusties and musties you had. You of course shaved EVERYTHING just in case Nobara was right. But you had a feeling the night would not go as planned.

There wasn’t really a theme but you knew it was a typical house party. So you threw on a black halter top and a beige mini skirt you didn’t really care about with some black shoes. You sprayed some type of sweet smelling perfume on and called nobara.

“Bitch pick up“ you looked at the ringing facetime call. She finally answered looking like she was driving. “Heyyy you look cutee girlie” she smiled at you. “Thank you pooka what the fuck should i do to my hair pony with a side part or down with a side part” she nodded and held up a 1. You quickly did your hair and headed out of your apartment complex and saw nobara’s white honda civic in front of the place.

“Hi my fav girl” you said as you entered her car. She was putting on some sort of lipgloss. She basically had on the same thing as you but with tan pants total copy cat. “Soo have you even been talking to satoru.” She questioned as she started heading to the party. “Yea a bit he is just so damn hard to talk to like just a few weeks ago he texted so much and now im unadded on everything” She looked at you with disappointment in her eyes knowing you’re gonna spend this whole party sulking over him. Funny thing is you definitely didn’t well for the record you didn’t cry at all but you got upset and other things but for the record you didn’t cry

See what you didn’t know is megumi liked you and hated the fact that you were wrapped all around Satoru’s finger. He hated the fact that you would stare off at him and just blank out everytime you, him, and satoru hung out. He purposely let gojo fall inlove with another girl and he would casually just let gojo ghost you. He went as far as to even setting gojo up on a date just so he couldn’t have you. He wanted you to forget about him in more than one way.

Anyways, nobara just nodded and said “maybe you should try his bestfriend he’s pretty cute” you looked at her like she was crazy “oh he HATES my fucking guts nobara. he wants me dead like the stares he gives me are the worst” you whine she shrugs her shoulders and adds “well maybe megs wants to rearrange them you know its always the quiet ones” she giggles as you punch her shoulder and blush. You guys arrive to the party at around 9:30 ish As soon as you step into the house the thick sent of weed engulfs your lungs. Yea you smoked every 5 months but that smell could be the worst but the best at the same time.

You see nobara walk off leaving you all alone. “Well just say fuck me huh” you mutter to yourself trying to find the kitchen. You see megumi pouring himself a drink a simple one at that rum and coke. “excuse me” you say pushing past him to get a cup and some pink Whitney and a sprite . He looked you up and down rolling his eyes and scoffing “all dressed up huh“ he says taking a sip of his drink. You finish pouring your drink, “yea i guess“ you laugh “well you look like a slut” he chuckles trying to insult you “you must like sluts“ you reply as you walk off to find nobara. Feeling his eyes piercing through your skull. Yea megumi was cute but his attitude was fucking terrible.

As you walk around you see gojo kissing a girl. You felt every bone in your body twitch with not with hate just sadness. Being honest you only liked his attention he was cute but his attention was amazing. The playful texts the calls everything it was amazing. You felt a tear run down your face and you walked upstairs towards the bathroom bumping into megumi who scowled at you.

You gained your composure after a solid 5 minutes of standing in the mirror with a burning throat feeling you couldn’t even cry. You sat on the stairs scowling and pouting at gojo and his new girlfriend. She was beautiful really really beautiful. You were snapped out of your thoughts when someone pushed you. It was megumi standing infront of you.

“Enjoying the view?” Megumi questions as he laughs. “Go to hell” you say looking up at him pouting. “Already there” you roll your eyes as he sits down next to you. “the outfit didnt work huh?” He pouts at you as you shift over. “You know you could probably fuck anyone here but your too focused on gojos dick” you roll your eyes again trying not to curse megumi out “you wanna bet?” You say out of confidence. “Oh you’d lose in an instant”

You remember what nobara said and sigh. You grab megumi’s hoodie and straddle his lap seeing his face tint pink. “Are you fucking crazy” you roll your eyes as if he isnt getting rock hard under you right now. “Your not even pushing me off dont deny it now” you laugh looking into his low glossy eyes. “Well fuck kiss me.” He says you hesitate a little looking at gojo who obviously isnt paying any mind to yall. You kiss him gently holding his face. You feel him get harder by the second as you grind on his lap trying to get some friction.

Megumi snakes his hands around your waist. He sighs a bit as he deepens the kiss and carries you into gojos room. He quickly opens and shuts the door pushing you against the wall kissing you harder. He hooked his hands under your bra cupping your breasts.

“You’re such a slut you know that right?” You gasp in response as he pinches your nipples. You think about how wrong this is especially fucking Gojos best friend in his room. You snap out of your thoughts from the feeling of being picked up megumi still dominating your mouth as he sits you on the bed. “Come on baby open that pretty mouth let me fuck it” he unzips his pants pulling them down along with his underwear. Revealing his pale colored dick suprizingly he was pretty big. He shoved his length in your mouth making you gag violently. He groaned loudly as he slowly thrusted in your mouth picking up pace by the second.

“So fucking wet and warm” he growled as he fucked your throat at this point he should be in your lungs because you can barely breathe with his length. “Look at me pretty girl” he said as he held your face you looked at him with cock drunk eyes and spit running down your chin. He rolled his eyes and took his cock out of your mouth. “lay down and spread your legs” he ripped your skirt off examined the wet spot on your panties and whispered a low fuck. Yes you hated megumi but fuck it felt so good to see a man look at your body like a starved animal. He kissed up and down your thighs leaving small marks, finally he slid your panties off revealing your arousal and pocketed them. He kissed the soft fleash of your pussy then licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit. You shivered at the sensation after a long minute of licking he finally sucked your clit making your hand jolt to his hair.

You arched and moaned as megumi ate you out. Really his tounge was skilled the muscle knew every spot inside and out of your body. “More” you uttered out in pleasure and he added two fingers in. You gripped his hair tightly from the sudden stretch he growled as you tightened around him. His fingers hit every spot you couldn’t its like you hated him for making you feel this good but at the same time you loved every second of it. You didn’t realize how this whole time he was watching expressions until he spoke “no come on baby look at me look at me and cum all over my face” you opened your eyes as your orgasm suddenly began building up you were seconds from coming eyes tearing up body shaking you came all over his fingers he lapped up your sweet liquids and came up to kiss your neck.

“Surprisingly you taste really fucking good” you scoffed at him he chuckled and slapped your ass harshly “Say thank you” you rolled your eyes “for what? Gojo’s probably better” you knew what you were doing you’re making him jealous it really fucked him up seriously. He looked at you like you were fucking stupid “Take it back” you laughed repeating what you said “really okay” he kissed you roughly biting your lip making it bleed breaking the kiss then flipping you into doggy style pushing your head into gojos pillows slapping your ass harshly multiple times then slapping his dick on your pussy. He slid it in quickly thrusting in giving you no time to adjust. Your eyes were rolling back head foggy not even 10 minutes in thats how good his dick was. You tried not to moan loud but megumi didn’t like it he grabbed your neck and yanked your head back to look at him. “Come on moan like the slut you are” you had no choice really you moaned his name loud enough for the whole house to hear luckily the music was up extremely loud. “Megumi fuck too big I can’t-“ he shoved your head back into the pillows he hated the word ‘can’t’ it just wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“Fuck megumi please im sorry” you dont know how many orgasms or how many positions megumi put you in but you know he wasnt even close to cumming and you guys ended up on the floor. “No no you want gojo right dont even think about moaning my name slut.” He smacked your ass harshly as he twitched inside of you as you came again. “Sorry ‘m so so sorry” you say slurred he laughs as he watches your make up run down your hot cheeks biting your shoulders again “awhh you want my cum baby? Or you want gojo to fill you up?” You shake your head no violently he doesn’t take this as an answer and slaps your ass four times making you scream. “Please you i want only you please cum in me please” you moan as he rubs your clit violently groaning and picking up his speed as be finally climaxes inside of you. “Fuckk baby you feel so fucking good” he shutters as he pulls out putting his cum back in with his fingers. Fingering you slowly to your last climax. You arch your back and cry his name as you squirt all over his fingers with a slight shake as you slowly fall asleep.

He picks you up off the floor and places you on the bed seeing you fall asleep. He laughs and puts on his clothes and dresses you carrying your sleeping body over his shoulders down the stairs letting gojo and nobara you guys are leaving. You woke up in the morning groggy and sore from last nights events, you felt a hand pull you in closer as you tried to get away. “Stop fucking moving” you rolled your eyes but obliged when the not so mysterious man behind you kissed your neck. “Megumi stop” you rolled over and kissed his lips softly as he looked at you with sleepy eyes arms still wrapped around your waist. He buried himself in your breasts and fell back asleep you did the did same resting your chin in his hair.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

THE END💗

This may be the last jjk fanfic I write as of rn😭 i gotta move on. Bye lovessss💗💗💗

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu megumi #loverzzlane

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verosvault · 1 day

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🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 8🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Fracas at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival

Timestamp: 34:54

Video Length: 4min. & 45sec.

Research into Cassandra and Ruvina + Learning about Oblivati Mori (Pt.1 | ‣Pt.2 | Pt.3)

Fig: "Do you want a Bardic?"

Fabian: "I can... Hey, The Ball? Let me help."

Riz: : "Okay, yeah. It's just-"

Gorgug: "Can I have a Bardic?"

Riz: "It's just the dust mites."

Fig: "Do you want some help?"

Riz: "I'm a little worried about the dust mites!" 😭✋ (Murph's CONCERNED FACE! 😭✋)

Fig: "Here!" *starts to play* 😭✋

Riz: "Oh no! It's okay!" 😭✋

Emily: "If you see me wink, you get a Bardic." (😭😭😭😭✋✋✋✋)

Murph: Okay, okay. (*blocking Emily's winks with his hands*! 😭✋)

Lou: "Can my Bardic just be that I run screen?" 😭✋

Fabian: "No, no, look at me. No!"

Emily: "Don't you want it? Don't you want it?" (😭😭😭😭)

Murph: "Okay, right off the bat, dirty 20. Should I throw this on there and try to-"

Emily: "Yeah!"

Siobhan: "why not?!"

Lou: "Come on, baby. Let's cook."

Murph: "26."

Lou: "We stay eatin'!"

Brennan: "Hell yes."

Ally: "A feast."

Murph: "So afraid of dust mites. Are there..." 😭✋

Brennan: "So I think you're going through Rana's stuff, which is all the actual, the poetic... She was the cleric of the group, right? And you're going through Cormyr's stuff. Cormyr was a sorcerer, but you actually see, for someone that was innately magical, Cormyr had very meticulous notes, beautiful script, and has something written out which is a long... You can tell it's a copying of another text. As you arrive at it, it's basically, he wrote a glossary literally for the possibility that they would all die on this mission, and another group of adventurers would find this stuff and could pick up where they left off."

Emily: "We should remember to do that in the future." 😭😭😭✋✋✋

Siobhan: "Put it on the board. Put it on the board!"

Brennan: "You find-"

Gorgug: "A for Adaine."

Brennan: "You find-"

Adaine: "That's my name! What?"

Fig: "I think it's the information, not us." 😭✋

Gorgug: "Oh, well, how holistic is it?"

Adaine: "Catch up. Stop thinking about-[inaudible]"

Riz: "I texted you this stuff, man!" 😭✋

Gorgug: "Got it." 💀💀

Brennan: "What you see is, there is the beginning of a text that is written- and I think that... Adaine, go ahead and give me one more- give me actually, an Arcana, 'cause you rolled History. Give me an Arcana real quick."

Siobhan: "I did roll History...23."

Lou: "Sexy." 😂💀

Brennan: "You are able to point out- you know that what you're looking at is not a spell. But Adaine, you're familiar that there's lots of kinds of magical writing that are not spells. There's ways of annotating things that are magical laws or precepts, and what you are seeing here is a dually arcane and religious axiom of magical law of Spyre. And what you see is it says, "Obliviati Mori."

Emily: "Remember you will die? Or forget you will die?!" (👀👀)

Brennan: "Clerics call it Obliviati Mori, but you see that as an arcane rule, it is called the Law of Theothanatic Silence."

Siobhan: "So that's when a god dies, you forget their name."

Brennan: "Yes. But you see that he's writing down all the mortal stuff you already know. When a god dies, you forget their name. When a god dies, they're scrubbed from existence. When a god dies, da da da da da. But you guys also know that for all that being said, 'Yes!' is dead because nobody believes in it, but people remember 'Yes!', right?"

Siobhan: "Oh, we all remember 'Yes!'." 😭✋

Brennan: "You all remember 'Yes!'."

Zac: "I'll never forget that thing."

Siobhan: "They had a cogent philosophy that we comprehended deeply."

Ally: "Maybe we should forget, though." (😭😭✋✋)

Fig: "Just to be clear, when I was talking about becoming a paladin, it was for 'Yes!'." (😭😭✋✋)

Kristen: "Wait, what? No, no!" 😭✋

Adaine: "Wait, for 'Yes!' or for 'Yes??'" 💀💀💀

Zac: "I'll never forget that thing sliding out of-" 😭✋

Ally: "Yeah, sliding out of that hole." 😭✋

Siobhan: "Just so wet."

Murph: "That thing getting pooped out of space." 😭😭✋✋

Brennan: "Basically, there is an intense series of rules and restrictions, but you see this rule doesn't apply to mortals. It applies to the gods."

Siobhan: "Oh! So the gods also forget the name?!"

Brennan: "They do not."

Siobhan: "Oh! And that's why we remember Yes!, 'cause we're all gods!" (😂💀 IMAGINE! 😂💀)

Brennan: "You're all gods! Obliviati Mori is a precept that binds deities to not evangelize or even speak of fallen deities to mortals. In other words, it's written out as a precept of basically like, if a god succumbs to some form of death, they become archfey, they become a demon or a celestial rather than a full deity, if they only have a few dozen followers and another god kills them and they don't have the strength to withstand that, or if literally, in the most extreme cases, their name is fully forgotten, other deities are not allowed to effectively remind mortals of their existence."

Siobhan: "So does that mean that the person who wrote the note that is supposed to be from Lucy was actually a god?"

Brennan: "It makes it very unclear who could have written that. Because you're in this weird position where you guys can all write Yes!, you can write Cassandra. This god is one whose name has actually been forgotten or scrubbed by every single mortal."

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farmerbebop · 3 days

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Can you talk more at all about Mcgoohan and The Prisoner, I followed you for the art but now I want the tea. Admittedly, I know zero about Mcgoohan or his work outside of recognizing him from TCM reruns.

Thank you for the question and for enjoying this blog.

McGoohan was an enigma, and so was The Prisoner. Almost everyone who has ever tried to explain The Prisoner ended up saying more about themselves than about its creator.

Generally, everyone agrees that McGoohan was a rebel, but no one really knows when it started. Probably very early, because his daughter once mentioned he got a scholarship to a prestigious school in England called Ratcliffe (he was from a working class background and grew up on a farm in Ireland) and then immediately said "He hated it, but he went, because he had to." The only good thing about it was that he learned boxing there.

The official story always starts with something like: He worked multiple jobs before becomming a self-taught actor (he was the stage manager and one day the actor was sick) when it should start with his childhood in the countryside. Even though he always seemed like someone who could hold the sky up if it fell down, it's also well-known that he was a hopeless romantic, and his childhood was probably responsible for that.

Anyway fast forward to a rainy night in England, when the Lyric Theatre was dead silent after his performance of Brand because the audience forgot how to breathe, or to clap. He got off stage and told his wife his performance wasn't good enough and she agreed. His co-star later said those two people were the only ones in the world who could see something wrong in such a performance.

He soon moved on to TV. He agreed to do this spy show, even though he disliked the whole James Bond thing. The producer realized that too late. He was already changing scripts on the spot. No womanizing, no kissing, no gun (well, in a few cases there were guns but they hardly did anything). Some big boss from the US flew over to tell him they wanted more sex and violence. He told the guy to fuck off.

That was Danger Man. If I get a dime for everytime a woman fainted over John Drake, I would be a millionaire. At some point during my first watch of it, I started hearing music when he walked. Literally.

John Drake was a spy with a moral standard. It was McGoohan's work. He gave the public a hero in every sense of the word. But he made sure John Drake was always interesting. After all, he happened to be one of the greatest actors ever lived.

Then he got tired of it. Of course that was not good for the network. He was the biggest TV star in the UK.

So he told them he could do another show. And it was The Prisoner.

Oh before that, I must mention that he got married early in his life, was in love with his wife until the day he died, wrote her love notes everyday and occasionally got soft meat thrown at him during their fights.

So he made The Prisoner, basically did almost everything. Was very angry at times, probably slept like 4 hours a day, went through several nervous breakdowns. His co-star Leo McKern didn't go through "Once Upon a Time" unscathed either. According to McGoohan: "He'd truly cracked."

The Prisoner was McGoohan's baby. No one in the crew was allowed to mention the word television. He wanted it to be more than that. He made sure it was of the highest quality. It was his vision that carried the whole show.

It was about an ex-spy called Number Six. No one knows what he did, only that he resigned. People still argue whether or not he is John Drake. To me, no one really knows who John Drake really is, and so Number Six could as well be John Drake. After all, what is the difference beside that Number Six has a past and John Drake doesn't?

Number Six was kidnapped to the Village, where the Village authority (the Number Twos) tried everything to extract information out of him. They wanted to know why he resigned. And he wouldn't tell them that.

And then there's Number One, who gives out order to the Number Twos, hires and fires them at will. No one knows who Number One is. But in order to get out of the Village, Number Six will eventually have to face them.

This show gives you complete freedom from the very start. It will ignite your imagination. It was a marvelous feeling.

It doesn't coax you into liking Number Six, it doesn't even tell you who he is. But when you see the fire burning in his eyes, when you hear the thunder in his voice, when you see him walking up and down his room like a lion in a cage, you will understand why you are here with him.

The Village is a mirror of our modern world. The Prisoner predicted so many things we are seeing now. And yet, it feels so new, so strange, so fresh. It was like seeing the inner workings of McGoohan's mind laid out before our eyes, the beauty of its dreams and the horror of its nightmares.

I think you need to watch it completely open-minded, let it change you, and it will let itself be changed by you.

Its conclusion drove some people mad. They couldn't accept it, they wanted a Bond-like ending. They couldn't handle McGoohan's 'absurd' ending. He went from being the highest paid actor in the UK to someone who hid from the angry public in a place with no telephone.

Fame. Money. Status. All of that gone over night. But we know by now that he wasn't someone who cared about that.

But I think he wanted it to reach its audience, to reach future generations. He wanted to leave something behind for eternity.

He was so ahead of his time. And if he was still alive, he would still be ahead of our time.

I could go on forever but I only slept like 4 hours last night so I'd better stop before I start talking more nonsense. All of my followers know they should take whatever I say about McGoohan with a grain of salt. My only motto is: the only ones I shall make fun of on here are McGoohan and myself.

#mcgoohan lore

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collegeoflore · 4 months

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rotating post-game xarrai and astarion in my mind. if u even care

#cannot stop thinking about the guy who hates flowers going out of his way to keep a fresh bouquet on the table at all times.#and the guy who could not care less about sewing or embroidery always picking up pretty thread and fabrics and patterns when they see them.#it’s about the cup of coffee on the bedside table while the blood is still drying on their throat.#and the dirt and blood under their fingernails hunting game to keep him fed.#it’s about burning cazador’s palace to the ground and building their own home in its place and it’s about razing the black keep in mulmaster #idk man i hate them so bad #they’ll never live happily ever after but they’ll have a lot of fucking fun no matter what #they can’t fix the hurt they’ve felt but they can make new memories to soften the old #until it’s all wrapped in the gauzy warmth of their years together and it’s not too sharp to touch anymore #do you see my vision. it’s not about fixing one another it’s about learning to fix themselves #it’s about carving out a life that’s theirs and theirs alone. it’s about having something to be proud of.#cazador is dead and bane is out of xarrai’s head and now they get to learn what it means to live and love and be free #漫言 #oc. xarrai #r. hold me like a knife

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vaugarde · 1 year

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havent read tbc but i think its so funny how shadowsight seems to be popular to the people i follow just because “the narrative treats him like all the female characters do so hes an honorary girlie��

#and by ''how the narrative treats him'' they mean badly ofc bc apparently everything is blamed on him repeatedly #w no one realizing that he was manipulated and the narrative being retconned just to say hes actually a screwup who was never good #and everything genuinely is his fault bc why else would he listen to an evil cat in starclan #like. damn that really is something theyd do to a female protagonist #also the only ppl ive seen hating on him do it for boring and stupid reasons so im inclined to like him out of spite #bc ''he has an ILLEGAL name in this universe. hes a TIGERDOVE kid. hes a FANFICTION made REAL'' ok well hes the most interesting one. so.#not like anything he actually does in the narrative it seems. plus the other two protags sound boring as hell #''oh im sad i couldnt get w the boy i like. now i love another guy but its forbidden. oh and my leaders possessed ig.''#''SIGH i wish people didnt compare me to my cringe OUTSIDER dad. also i see ghosts and i hate this its cringe''#''also my sister is a legacy name after an important character from the previous arc but who cares''#and then shadowsight is like ''since i was an infant i had excruiciating seizures and visions. i threw myself into a river as a sacrifice #i am suicidal. i got manipulated by an evil man into possessing my great uncle. everyone outwardly wants me dead for it #everyone blames all of their problems on me and expects a lot from me. i got demoted for it. my only support is my close family #and even then they have to suffer the extreme guilt of not being able to help me with literally anything #also the antagonist wants my mom dead for my own existence. i have lost so much #i am literally blamed by god for everything thats happened to be despite being used by them since i was an infant and thats where my story e #ends''#like fuck. yeah he is an honorary girlie to me. i barely know u man but like i support u. cmere be my pet cat #echoed voice

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spectraspecs-writes · 2 years

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EXCUSE ME??????

#no no no no no this is the kind of thing i imagine but never want to see #this is going to be awful bc ugh look #part of the good thing about quantum leap was that it was a first #you had a man an attractive man being anti fascist feminist unafraid to wear a dress in public to hear she her pronouns to be an all around #*decent guy. sam beckett broke the mold okay. sam beckett gave me unrealistic expectations for men that I am not backing down from #and another good part about it was it showed a future where all of the ignorant bullshit was come and gone. granted it was just 1999 #but still! it was an alternate 1999 like very clearly alternate esp now #you can no longer pretend we're past this shit. you can no longer pretend that 'black people deserve to live' is going to become #*a widely held belief any time soon. and this is because we elected an asshole.#their Al is a woman which could be fun but she's no nonsense? no the relationship between sam and al was great bc they were opposites #they've got magic williams in there too and he was someone that sam leapt into in s3e2 excuse me hes the no nonsense guy #you're telling me a signalman who served under tom beckett in vietnam is no nonsense? no he is not not 100%#there's no saving this for me. the one thing they could do to get points is to explain what happened to sam #al calavicci is dead has to be bc dean stockwell is and al was a heavy smoker #his neurons and mesons were linked to sams so there's no one else who could seamlessly be in touch with sam #he is stuck in the past without a lifeline without access to ziggy he is stuck #did god fate time let him go again? did he decide to go home?#im so mad about this

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itslateitslate · 1 month

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what listening to another one bites the dust 627 times in a row does to a mfer

#tw blood #this is meant to be john btw. if it wasnt clear. which i dont think it is. LMAO #ive done my one good peice of queen art (the || cover) (which i have since edited and improved on if anyone is interested) i'll see yall #in another 4 years with another one AHDBSIDJAJJDAMD #do i like the idea of john wiping blood off his face? yes. do i have any idea how to execute it? no #have yall seen the new joyner lucas album cover. i have no idea who he is but if any of the guys had an album cover like that i'd be a #dead fucking man let me tell you #anhway #this is so bad maybe dont reblog it. thanks. LMAOO i'll try to make a better one #art #(is that my art tag here? have i ever actually posted art here? oh my god)

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

#sea cryptid Danny phantom #sea spirit au #dcxdp #danny phantom #bruce wayne #batman #bamf danny phantom #Danny the tired college student #Danny is broke #Batman is not #Danny: business opportunity???#sea cryptic! danny au

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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Am I the asshole for getting my best friend killed?

I swear to God, it was an accident.

My (27) BF (34) has a reputation for getting himself out of any jam you can imagine; and at first it was just a fun little thing the friend group noticed: there goes Oily J wiggling his way out of trouble again. but as the meme evolved in the group, it got to the point where we'd loykey started getting him into situations just to see how he'd get out of 'em, and he akept getting out of em. He was having fun with it too same as us. "Oh you guys," he'd say, "getting me into situations again," before laughing it off and getting out of it, so it was enrichment for our shared enclosures, and as time went on, the situations got more intense.

The trouble is, it turns out that putting a man in too many situations eventually gets the police interested. And not local hobsknockers cops either; they was like, proper three-letter FEDs. They put out a bounty on any information pertaining to his capture and everything. It was good money too so I thought, hey why don't I put J in another situation he can wiggle out of like always (and he'd wiggled outta worse before, so I thought this one'd be relatively mild), and at the next boardgame night (cause it was too late to do anything special for this one) we can buy some extra strong booze and get absolutely blitzed while having a giggle about the situation.

Boardgame night, and we were playing some social deduction nonsense or another and he says: "One of you is gonna betray me tonight." and I can't help but think, looking back on it, that he knew. It's stupid, I know he was talking about the game, but the way he said it, it was like he knew. We all felt it, and we had a big round robin round the table taking turns promising that we'd never betray him. And I said it so easily cause I thought it was true. Sure, I was gonna talk to the feds about a bounty; but, I fully expected my big beautiful oily boy to wiggle his way out of the trouble I was 'bout to cause, and that's not a betrayal. I wasn't lying. I didn't think I was lying.

My big beautiful oily boy didn't manage to wiggle his way out of it. They killed him and I got my blood money. He's gone.

He's gone and I'm devastated, crying, mourning. I loved him so much. We all did. And I can't stop thinking that it's my fault: that I'm the reason he's gone. and it is. and the guilt is eating me up inside. and I just need to talk to someone about it. So, I tell the rest of the group what happened in the group chat, hoping they'd understand that I didn't want this. I didn't want the government's blood money. It was supposed the be a prank. some joint enclosure enrichment. He was supposed to wiggle out of it like he always does... did, i mean.

They call me, among worse things, the asshole and kick me from the group chat. And, I know it's my fault he's dead: I know that. If I didn't do what I did, he wouldn't be dead right now. But, I didn't mean it for it to end up this way. He was supposed to be okay, damn it. I loved him. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #fandom aita #unreality #i never know how to tag the bible ones #also i don't think this is explicitly jesus christ superstar but for some reason it put me in mind of it #so that's where the extra option is from idk #specifically in my head is one particular production of it that a friend showed me when we were like. 17 #anyway i'm in love with how this one plays with modern language #good enough to post on purpose

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steddie-as-they-come · 6 months

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Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.

Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.

Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.

The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.

A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.

"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."

The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."

He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.

This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.

They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.

He misses the shitheads.

No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.

Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.

It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.

It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.

Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.

In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.

"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.

"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."

"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."

He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.

She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."

Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"

"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.

Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"

Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.

Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."

"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."

Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."

"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"

Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.

"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"

"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."

The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.

Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”

Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”

“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.

Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”

“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”

“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.

Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”

Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”

He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.

Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.

Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”

Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”

Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”

The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.

part two!

#based on the running joke between me and my roommate that my robotics kids are gonna break into my dorm room #one of them just got his license and im now even more worried #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #college au #pre relationship

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obsessivevoidkitten · 6 months

Text

A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp

Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)

You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.

Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.

You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.

When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.

You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.

Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.

After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.

You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.

"HI!!!"

You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.

He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.

But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.

His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.

“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”

You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay??”

You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.

“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”

“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”

You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.

“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”

You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.

“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”

The frog man was clearly impressed.

“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”

If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.

“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.

You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.

When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you, that was super yummy!"

Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!

Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.

But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.

You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of questions.

When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.

And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!

If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.

"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."

Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!

"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.

You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.

"Wh-what are you doing!?"

Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.

The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.

And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.

He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.

"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"

Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.

You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.

There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.

You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.

"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"

And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.

"Wh-what the?"

Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.

Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.

"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"

Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-

"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.

"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"

You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.

#yandere #yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #male yandere x gn reader #My ocs #My OC Cobi

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

Text

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.

...

Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar

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