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reiderwriter · 7 months

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Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing.

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty.

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror.

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much.

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct.

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report.

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new.

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier.

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt.

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch.

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest.

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer.

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off.

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged.

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time."

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes."

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room.

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate.

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph.

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks.

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side.

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?"

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow.

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him.

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table.

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm.

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer.

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question."

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?"

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know."

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you.

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person.

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out.

"Nowhere."

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question.

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?"

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite.

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying.

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach.

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you.

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away.

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason.

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number.

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone."

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-"

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?"

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge.

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him.

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own.

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do."

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that.

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him.

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you.

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions.

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch.

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from.

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done.

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him.

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something.

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face.

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally.

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been.

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second.

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work, but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans.

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open.

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead.

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic.

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher.

"I'm okay."

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?"

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted.

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you."

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another.

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question.

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend.

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on.

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?"

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you.

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now.

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did.

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?"

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness.

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?"

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer.

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head.

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again.

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes.

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath.

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?"

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this.

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole.

You'd never felt like this before.

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop.

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm.

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom.

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously.

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands.

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands.

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket.

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else.

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build.

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there.

"Spencer, please, please, fuck."

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -"

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation.

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige.

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth.

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in.

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him.

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again.

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth.

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him.

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned.

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap."

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further.

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg.

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions.

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him.

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-"

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh.

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued.

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you.

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow.

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest.

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time.

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it.

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you.

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair.

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded.

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…"

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be.

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance.

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in.

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further.

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were.

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you.

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast.

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head.

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth.

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you.

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it.

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His.

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger.

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep.

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't.

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one.

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down.

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before.

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that.

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him.

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world.

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face.

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way.

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart.

"No, not until you tell me why you left."

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl.

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again.

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine."

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble.

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face.

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room.

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed.

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #dom spencer reid #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #kinktober 23

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harrowing-of-hell · 5 months

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i've been meaning to talk about the scene where cytherea's body shows up underneath harrow's bed, and the whole "is she actually there or not?" question, because many people seem convinced that ianthe was gaslighting harrow and i genuinely don't think she has any reason to do so. the scene itself is deliberately ambiguous for several reasons. the most obvious is that harrow hallucinates. she knows this. the audience knows this. this is precisely why she seeks out ianthe in the middle of the night, because harrow doesn't trust her own senses.

harrow also used bone to shackle cytherea's body to the floor— and yet her body somehow disappears from underneath the bed without breaking these shackles. initially, this would indicate cytherea's body is another hallucination.

however, we also know that there's something weird going on: for some unexplained reason, cytherea's body apparently doesn't trigger blood wards.

after cytherea's body goes missing, it also can't be detected by john or found anywhere on the mithraeum.

one possibility is that cytherea's body is negating magic somehow. her body is being necromantically preserved by john and thus her body is imbued with john's magic. that may be why wake can move around in it completely undetected by john himself, and also may be why she is able to bypass blood wards and other types of necromancy.

but again, no concrete answers are given, and any ideas or claims are just pure speculation. all we know is that cytherea's body has been able to do weird things and avoid detection, so it's not exactly unreasonable that, if she was underneath the bed, she may have been able to escape the the shackles somehow.

additionally, though i'm not at all inclined to believe this, we also can't rule out the possibility that both of these appearances of wake-in-cytherea's-body were hallucinations and the only time harrow really saw her was in the incinerator room when she was trying to kill g1deon.

at the end of HtN, gideon claims that cytherea's body was obviously there, but she isn't reliable because she only has access to harrow's memories. she would recall that situation as harrow did, meaning she would remember any hallucinations harrow was experiencing. unlike harrow herself, gideon doesn't doubt harrow's experiences, but harrow feels the need to confirm whether she's hallucinating when it's not already obvious to her that this is the case.

and then there's ianthe, who's behavior during this scene is weird:

ianthe says very little during this entire scene before leaving harrow's bedroom, and i think this is deliberate, only meant to make it more ambiguous as to whether the body under the bed is actually there or not.

but it's actually because of ianthe's behavior here that i believe that harrowhark seeing cytherea's body underneath the bed was an hallucination.

there are other times where ianthe comments on harrow's psychosis:

in both of these situations, she's not nice about it! in fact, ianthe takes the opportunity to insult harrow or question whether harrow's actually seeing the things that she's seeing.

importantly, her behavior in these two instances is very different from what she does when harrow tells her to look at cytherea's body underneath the bed and touch it. ianthe doesn't insult harrow at all or call her "crazycakes" or "mad", just asks if harrow's been sleeping, says good night, and walks away.

i think that this is because ianthe gets really uncomfortable whenever she's confronted with harrowhark being in undeniably vulnerable positions.

when she sees harrow bloody and naked after being attacked by g1deon, she brushes it off by essentially going "yikes", but the fact that she makes no attempt to help harrow recover from the attack and hastily walks away from the sight of harrow's maimed body is very telling.

her walking away is so unexpected that i've seen several people say that they're not sure why ianthe didn't take that as an opportunity to manipulate harrow (even harrow expected it to happen, and welcomed it). and yeah, from what we see of her character in HtN up until this scene, it does seem ooc for her to just walk away with nothing but a quippy comment.

but to understand her behavior i think it's important to note that ianthe does see harrow as an equal! at any given opportunity she brings up the similarities between herself and harrowhark. ianthe also does this because she's down bad, but regardless, she would never equivocate herself to someone who she thinks is lesser than her.

i also don't think she would do this if she didn't care about harrow— and she does care about harrow! she was genuinely happy to see harrow was alive before realizing that it wasn't harrow but gideon-in-harrow's-body. at the beginning of HtN she kneels before harrowhark in "unmistakable supplication" and looks at her with "half-beseeching, half-contemptuous despair" as she offers to help defend harrow's body once they go into the river to fight the RB.

ianthe has no reason to gaslight harrowhark for fun the night before the RB is supposed to attack. she incessantly taunts harrowhark with her impending death all throughout HtN, but she doesn't actually want harrowhark to die. gaslighting and destabilizing harrow further when harrow is already likely to die directly goes against this desire.

imo ianthe does enjoy having someone rely on her and is willing to be manipulative to achieve that, but i think she relied on harrow just as much as harrow relied on her. in HtN, harrow is very much filling the coronabeth shaped hole in ianthe's life and i don't think ianthe would risk losing that.

that's all to say, i think it's precisely because ianthe sees harrow as an equal and cares about her in her own fucked up way that, when faced with harrow's vulnerability, her immediate reaction is to brush it off and help harrow save face by walking away from the situation.

ianthe views vulnerability as a weakness and thus thinks she is doing harrow a favor by walking away from harrow in her times of weakness and making no further comment about it. it's like how many people react when they see a stranger crying it public; they would feel similarly embarrassed to be seen crying in a public space, so their way of helping that person is to ignore the fact that they're crying and prevent them from experiencing further embarrassement. she would want harrow to ignore her moments of weakness, and so in turn, she ignores harrow's moments of weakness.

in a way this is kinda how they show solidarity to each other in HtN; despite how they threaten each other with death, harrow defends ianthe when she's struggling to use her rapier arm, keeps ianthe's secrets, never explicitly mentions that ianthe cries at night to anyone (actually i think there are several scenes where harrow suspects ianthe has been crying, and she doesn't mention it aloud). in turn, ianthe thinks it best to not acknowledge or make it known that harrow experiences hallucinations. they know they're both in shit positions and aren't trying to deliberately make it worse for each other.

this is ultimately why i think ianthe wasn't lying when she said she didn't see cytherea's body; she not only has zero reason to do so outside of "for fun", but destabilizing harrowhark further would go against the fact that she wants harrow to survive the RB fight. ianthe's behavior when harrow asks her to look underneath the bed is also directly in line with the other occasion in which she has to interact with harrowhark in an extremely vulnerable moment: she seems incredibly dismissive of the situation, and then walks away.

#tlt meta #ianthe tridentarius #harrowhark nonagesimus #the locked tomb

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autumnmobile12 · 5 months

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My Hero Academia AU: Ambush Simulation

Aight, storytime:

So awhile back, I was thinking about Episodes 4 & 5 of the anime Soul Eater where the gang is tasked with capturing two villains, the zombie Sid and the guy who resurrected him, Professor Stein. (There’s also the added stakes that if they fail in this task, they’ll be expelled from school.) After a somewhat harrowing fight, defeating Sid and losing to Stein, the plot twist is this was never a real fight, Stein and Sid were not villains, and this whole thing was just a test that was orchestrated and sanctioned by the school and definitely skewed more toward hazing than actual education.

And I thought, what if that’s all the Vanguard Action Squad was during the Summer Camp Arc? Just a test orchestrated by UA that skewed more toward hazing than actual education. (Note: These are the traditional LoV members, so Muscular, Mustard, and Moonfish are not part of this line-up.) At the very least, that would probably be the meanest ruse Aizawa has pulled. And you can't tell me Principal Nezu wouldn't have been all in for this plan.

"It happened once at the USJ. Despite our precautions, it could happen again. Let's teach them how to prepare...by scaring the absolute shit out of them."

"Ambush Simulation" is playing off my earlier AU comic with Shigaraki being the adopted nephew of All Might and leading a pretty normal life. The rest of the squad is more or less in the same boat. For context, Touya’s canon divergence is he returned home after the three-year comatose and actually stayed there, but since nothing about that household environment really changed, he’s still an unhinged mess, but that is a whole other kettle of fish best saved for another comic. (Clearly getting a kick out of the prospect of scaring a bunch of kids, including his brother, half to death, though.) Toga’s home life is rocky at best after ‘the incident,’ but she’s no longer a runaway teen. Everybody else just kinda fell in with each other.

Their role as a vigilante team was inspired by the series Durarara!, specifically Kadota and his crew for anyone who's familiar. I genuinely forgot the Vigilantes spinoff existed...sigh, it's been awhile and I only recently got back in this fandom. The Vanguard is pretty much living by a 'you're only in trouble if you get caught,' philosophy. (And the nepotism has probably saved all their asses a few times because it doesn't look good for the No. 2 Hero if his eldest son is busted for vigilantism.)

Anyway, there's a few other details that I can't fit in this post, so head over here if you want to read more behind the scenes of making this thing.

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prying-pandora666 · 3 months

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From Zutara to Sokkla - Narrative Framing and Hypocrisy

Something that boggles me about the fandom is the complete double standard between Zuko and Sokka vs Katara and Azula.

A pretty noticeable example is how we frame the infamous “I’ll save you from the pirates” scene versus the Day of Black Sun.

The infamous pirates scene is often lauded (or condemned) as the birth of Zutara. Fans allege the tension between Zuko and Katara is palpable, and that their attraction is clear.

But let’s consider:

Katara isn’t a realized bender yet. She can’t defend herself. She’s surrounded by hardened adult criminals with weapons who have it out for her, and two firebenders (like the man who killed her mother!) who have been pursuing her doggedly, one of whom has shown he is quick to use violence even against civilians and the elderly.

Zuko dangles Katara’s necklace in front of her, the only item she has left of her mother, and threatens to take it away forever if she doesn’t sell out her friends.

If you want to read romance in this harrowing scene, feel free. It’s fiction and I’m not the morality police. Have fun!

What bothers me is the hypocrisy in how people frame this scene by comparison:

Consider this: Azula can’t bend. She’s unarmed. She’s pinned to the wall and has no means of escape. Her enemy is armed, is the architect of this invasion, has an army outside ready to follow him, and is currently flanked by an unstoppable earthbender and the friggin Avatar!

Azula is using herself as bait to protect her father (and ostensibly Zuko) knowing her life would be in terrible danger for minimum of 8 minutes. During which the enemy can do anything to her. The Fire Nation has done a lot of harm and there are surely many soldiers out there who would love to take their revenge on the Fire Nation’s pretty little princess who conquered the “impenetrable” capital of the Earth Kingdom.

The show goes out of its way to inform us that Azula is an expert at hiding her emotions. She can even fool Toph’s lie detector. Why?

Many people misinterpret this as a sign that Azula is an emotionless sociopath or whatever ableist pop-sci ideas they have about ASPD.

In reality, it’s the opposite. Azula being an expert at hiding her feelings is made clear so that we understand why she doesn’t look terrified, or vulnerable, or sad, or hurt until the finale when she finally cracks and her facade slips.

All she has at her disposal to protect herself is her wits (she had a knife and some Dai Li, but she has neither by this point). She smartly uses what she knows about Sokka to exploit his weakness and buy herself time. She’s so good at getting under his skin (which takes a sophisticated level of weaponized empathy) that even after he figures out what she’s doing, Sokka still can’t help himself.

This is all she can do to protect herself and her father. We as the audience know that Sokka and Toph aren’t going to kill or maim her, but Azula doesn’t!

So why in the world was this scene received as traumatic for Sokka?

Fans will claim that Azula’s mind games in this scene left Sokka with lasting trauma. That this is emotional abuse.

But who is the one pinned to the wall with no way to defend herself? Who is the one with weapons to threaten her with, and powerful allies who have it out for her?

If Sokka experienced any lasting trauma from this altercation, he sure never showed it! Sokka never seems to think much about Azula at all outside of wanting a rematch when it’s presented at the Boiling Rock. And even that is due to his feelings of inadequacy after the invasion. He even makes fun of Suki for being captured by Azula! Doubt he would do that if she had genuinely been tortured or if Sokka had been so traumatized by this scene.

Suki: Are you trying to get on my bad side?

Meanwhile, Katara does seem to have lasting trauma over her repeated altercations with Zuko. She talks about how he chased them all around the world threatening them. She refuses to trust him after he betrays her and fears he will get Aang killed. Zuko did hire an assassin.

In what universe can we read Zuko and the pirates threatening a helpless Katara as “romantic” but the scene with Sokka and Toph threatening a helpless Azula as “traumatic for Sokka”?

Only a universe where we have already subconsciously decided we are on Zuko and Sokka’s side.

These scenes can only be read that way if we have already decided Zuko isn’t that bad regardless of how Katara feels about what he does to her, and that Azula is pure evil regardless of what anyone does to her.

It’s a world where both Azula and Katara’s feelings are ignored.

If you want to read the pirate scene as romantic? Have fun. Enjoy your fics. It’s all good.

But let’s not pretend Zuko is some pure woobie in this scene that just needs some Katara loving, while Azula is some fearless psychopathic monster that enjoys putting herself in danger as long as she gets to “abuse” Sokka.

There’s a reason these two scenes exist this way. Katara and Zuko are parallels just as Azula and Sokka are. Katara and Azula are foils just like Sokka and Zuko are.

Fandom can and should do better by Katara and Azula. They deserve just as much consideration and empathy for their suffering and unmet needs as their brothers do. Even if Azula was a villain - so was Zuko for most of the show!

And as a pretty consequence, I can say this: Zutara and Sokkla are equally viable.

Goodnight, shippers.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #Zutara #Sokkla #zuko #katara #sokka #azula

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makethosenarratorsfight · 10 months

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UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE C

*NOTE; propaganda is out of order due to poll length!

Eugenides Propaganda:

the entire plot hinges on a detail he lets the reader (and every other character) assume is true. I don't want to spoil it because it's a really fun reveal but he is lying from the first second he appears on the page and you can't trust him to tell the full truth about ANYTHING related to himself and his goals. he mostly does it to keep his advantage and not have other characters be suspicious of him but it's just so fun when you realise he's been lying the whole time

Harrowhark Propaganda:

She gave herself a lobotomy and gives completely incorrect flashbacks to the previous book. Things that straight up did not happen. Gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

She’s schizophrenic (confirmed by the author) and also lives in a world with necromancy and ghostly revenants. She’s not just an unreliable narrator for readers, she’s an unreliable narrator of her own internal experience. She knows this and has to work with people around her to compensate for it. Descent into spoilerville below. Seriously Do Not Read if you want to read these books. There’s also the little matter about how she is *not actually the narrator* of a huge chunk of the story that we are initially led to believe is being told from her perspective.

(Spoilers) Holy shit she is THE most unreliable narrator. This gremlin gave herself a lobotomy so that she could forget about Gideon Nav, the most important person in her life (for magic soul-preserving reasons) so half of the second book in the series is spent gaslighting the reader about a book they just read. She comes up with an entire alternate version of the events of the first book in the series to carefully exclude any mentions of Gideon, and any time someone says ‘Gideon’ in front of her she LITERALLY has a stroke and/or an intercranial hemorrhage as her brain overwrites the word with someone else’s name. God occasionally intentionally triggers her memory revision to get out of difficult conversations. She also hallucinates ALL the time (unrelated to the lobotomy). She shows up at her frenemy’s room in the middle of the night (think little kid stumbling to their parents’ room and saying “I frew up”) to ask her to come check underneath her bed for the corpse that’s been wandering the space station. When frenemy checks underneath the bed, frenemy claims not to see anything, and Harrow is such an unbelievably unreliable narrator that it’s an open question in the fandom as to whether frenemy genuinely didn’t see the corpse or if frenemy was just yanking Harrow’s chain. Harrow is also haunted by a literal ghost that fucks up her already fucked up alternate history. Girlie will pick up a piece of paper and read from it the most violent and haunting piece of prose ever composed, when in reality all that’s written on the paper is the elementary school Superman S*. I am NOT joking that is a real goddamn scene. Harrow was created to win this poll. TLDR; she has brain damage and memory loss, she hallucinates, and is also haunted. * https://twitter.com/vestenet/status/1301012651145859072

Girl is so unreliable, she unreliably tells me events I was there for!!! She's retelling the previous book and I'm like "girlie, this is absolutely not how it happened". Also, she gave herself a DIY lobotomy, it has to impact your memory center I guess

She literally had a lobotomy, how can she be reliable

More Propaganda under cut!

Harrowhark is simply the unreliable narrator of all time. Can’t remember shit because of a lifetime of trauma? Check. Maybe lying to yourself and those around you a bit? Most definitely. Being gaslit by the survivors you depend on to orient you to reality? For sure. How about a little bit of canon schizophrenia? She’s got it all. Ghosts? Or something? Spirits that are attached in some way to your body and are not perceivable by others? Sure, sure! But how about spirits that are attached in some way to your body and are gonna use you to hijack others’ bodies and maybe kill God, too? Absolutely. Wee bit of DIY brain surgery? If it would make you an unreliable narrator, friends, then Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been there, been subjected to that!

Okay I don't know that much about this series since I haven't convinced myself to read all of the first book, but this is my blorbo in law so I'd feel bad not spreading propaganda (all of what I'm saying is something I've read, as to prevent myself from straight up submitting misinformation). So all of Harrow's unreliable narration takes place in the second book, Harrow the Ninth. Basically, without her even seemingto acknowledge it, Harrow's brain is very fucked up during this book, to the point where even she's not sure how reliable her narrative is. There's many questions left unclear as a result of her fucked up little brain, like what's real, what's fake, whether we can trust her judgement, whether even she can trust her own judgement, whether her original cavalier is dead or not (Harrow is convinced she is), etc. Let me tell you, I adore unreliable narrators who aren't even that sure if they're reliable. I have yet to eat that trope up here in this circumstance, but this poll might not run again by the time I do, so for now, here's my messed up blorbo in law.

OKAY SO REMEMBER MY GIDEON SUBMISSION? HARROW DOESN’T! SPOILERS AHEAD BECAUSE SHE LOBOTOMIZED HERSELF TO FORGET GIDEON BECAUSE THAT’S A HEALTHY WAY TO GRIEVE AND THEN IN THE ONLY PARTS OF HER BOOK THAT SHE NARRATES (THE REVISED CANAAN HOUSE PARTS) IT’S LITERALLY A ROOM FULL OF GHOSTS HER BRAIN SUMMONED TO DEAL WITH THE FACT THAT SHE CUT HER BRAIN IN HALF TO FORGET GIDEON. she also is a) haunted and b) psychotic, experiencing hallucinations her entire life of both the ghosts haunting her and less supernatural hallucinations- bells tolling, bones rattling, her parents (some of the only dead people NOT haunting her), etc! in the revised history of canaan house that her brainghosts invent, she brings along someone who knows about her psychosis to help reality check her when she tells him go! her caregiver as a child and support when she got older, crux, is a horrible man- but at one point, when someone other than harrow is in harrow’s body and tells him “i am not harrowhark, i am sorry,” his response is simply “aye, you’ve said that before too. who are you then, if not my lady harrowhark?” showing his familiarity with her psychosis and his love for the child he wouldn’t dare see as a daughter. but enough about that lets talk about her unreliable narration! she lies about her feelings of course but she also simply hides the truth from everyone, all the time, compulsively. also literally the entire section of her book that she narrates is a lie she’s telling US about a lie she’s telling HERSELF and no one understands even a little bit of the truth until like the last act of the book. queen.

#eugenides #the queens thief #queens thief #harrowhark #harrowhark nonagesimus #harrow the ninth #unreliable narrator battle #unreliable narrators #polls #side c

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pb-dot · 25 days

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This latest Adventuring Party really drove home my favorite aspect of Brennan's DMing style. He genuinely loves seeing his players succeed, even against odds he considered to be nigh insurmountable.

Let's take the Last Stand as an example. Now, Brennan made no secret out of the Last Stand encounter being very hard, and for people who do not play D&D it may even seem like he overhyped it, but from a mechanics standpoint, the CR, functionally the difficulty rating of this battle royale was sky-high. Yeah, none of the Bad Kids went down, but that is entirely thanks to a combination of excellent strategic play from the Intrepid Heroes and some choice luck.

To mention some of the game changer moves, the Scatter spell really re-defined the battlefield more favorably for the Bad Kids, the disguise self was a value proposition because it split the flying monsters, which was the greatest threat to the proctor by far, in two, functionally halving the threat to the squishy normie, not to mention dealing with the mega-mosquitos in combo with Spirit Guardians. Those little flying bastards would have been such a pain in the ass if Fig didn't bug zapper them to kingdom come. And the bless. Dear god, the Bless saved so many asses in this encounter.

This isn't to say magic was the only thing that defined the battlefield. The single-target damage dealers did some truly astounding numbers and managed their attention and abilities shockingly well. Yeah, Gorgug crit like a madman, but he also tanked like three or four non-barb PCs worth of effective HP damage without going down even once. If he had failed his saves and gotten eaten by the Purple Worm things would have gotten nasty for him, but again, the touch of luck (and bless) saw him through.

So, this is all to say that this was an encounter meant to kick the players' ass. Not an unwinnable one, evidently, but this was supposed to be a considerably worse experience even without getting into the non dice-roll exam questions. And how does Brennan react when the Intrepid Heroes put their game face all the way on, get really smart with their level 1 spell slots, and dismantle the whole thing? He's overjoyed, he's cheering for his strange adventure children, and we're cheering with him because frankly it's rad as hell.

This illustrates one nuance I feel sometimes gets glossed over about the DM-player relationship. A lot of people have talked about how Junior Year is the "Revenge of Brennan" or what have you, and I feel that kind of misses the central appeal of DMing and Brennan's style in D20 in particular. Yes, Mr Mulligan enjoys playing the heel on occasion. It's good fun to play the personification of everything going wrong and the inherent shittiness of the world, but like the wrestler heels, all that wicked charisma is meant to do one thing, and that is build up the faces, or the players in this case.

Now, the ghost of Gary Gygax may come after me for this, but I firmly believe it's not the DMs job to kill the player characters, or even to inconvenience or torment them. A good DM's job is to make it seem like they're going to kill the player characters, as to provide an environment for the players to succeed, a challenge for them to overcome. It's all one big improv exercise (or kink scene if you prefer to view it that way), where the DM derives their (near)absolute authority over the world the PCs inhabit from the shared understanding that they're going to show the players a spectacular, if not on occasion harrowing, time.

This is Brennan's biggest strength as a DM I think. He genuinely wants to make a spectacular time for his friends, and he understands that to do that he must on occasion be the monster they oppose, and on occasion he must be their breathless cheerleader. On occasion, one imagines, he must also be both.

#d20 fhjy #d20 fantasy high #brennan lee mulligan #d20 #fantasy high #So this turned out long huh #but d20 is a good show #and it's worth saying

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nalyra-dreaming · 10 days

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S2 predictions...

Just listing this before the episodes hit next week :)

Based on the interviews, reviews and all the tidbits we have heard and seen over the last 1,5 years.

I'm putting this under the cut because there might be spoilers in it that some haven't seen?!? Probably not many surprises, given my asks :) Just in case.

Not in a particular order!

Armand's retelling of Lestat's and his past will have a very deliberate touch to them. He will paint his and Lestat's (his)story in a certain light, for effect. Personally, I don't think it will take away anything from TVL in s3 (if anything, it might build more anticipation, at least for me). Gabrielle won't be in it.

Louis will be aware. He knows - most of it. (What was it in that interview? 80-90%?^^). He probably has asked Armand to help, too. The things not matching will be little things at first, if at all. We haven't heard anything in the reviews wrt the episode 5 fight, or murder night, so they are keeping that for the last two episodes (since we have already seen shots of it in the trailer). That means that the events will likely be combined with the trial, and that... will then be quite cataclysmic. And harrowing.

The trial itself will probably be version 1, too. We'll see if we get a second one after the tale breaks once more in this season, but it might be that we only get it in s3, where we will probably get another ep5 revisit, too, imho. This version of the trial will show Lestat fully in control and blaming Louis and Claudia, too. (This is the version Louis will believe happened.)

Louis and Claudia probably have to flee in the war, we saw them running, which is probably also why they don't have access to their money. That will change in Paris, I bet. Roget's will come into play here, even if only in a short nod.

Louis and his hobby are definitely linked to Louis' perception of reality (and therefore his visions of Lestat, too). Guess Lestat is eating that one photograph Louis looked at in the extended look there... :) - and it will be the one they look at "together".

I don't think Claudia and Madeleine will be lovers. Not only to avoid the kill-the-gays-trap, but also because Claudia apparently bonds with her over compassion, not desire. Also, I believe it was Mark Johnson who said they would stay close to the book there.

The Eastern Europe parts will be gritty and sobering for Louis and Claudia. The horrific possibilities of their existence will be a grating wake-up call to the way Lestat lived with them.

Nicolas will be in the flashbacks to the 1790s, but Armand will not dwell on him for long... again, which I think is only proper, because a) did Armand not care for him too much, but b) also because I don't think the flashbacks will be as extensive as might expect them to be.

That said, Lestat strutting in with the cross does speak of a certain scene, so the kidnapping probably happens. As others have theorized as well, I think that it might be when Lestat is charging Armand in the red coat outside on the street.

I think the bitch fest in the first few episodes in Dubai will be epic.

A propos bitch fest, the one between Armand and Lestat in the past will be tame by comparison, as Armand's version is much more focused on how intense Lestat was and their relationship, imho. Nicki is likely dismissed as inconsequential, as said before.

Claudia will come full into her own throughout the season - almost there, almost free, toasting to the future - and then. That kiss to Louis' cheek will be the "Judas' kiss" just before the vampires come for them.

I think Louis will (try to) break up with Armand (to leave with Claudia and Madeleine), which will lead to Armand allowing it all.

Armand's little Frankenstein moment might be founded in genuine desire to help her slash wants to see what happens. I do think it will be part of the reveals in the last episodes.

With Carol Cutshall's comments re Lestat's pinstripes in mind (aka he being a "jailor" to Louis and Claudia) that speaks volumes for the pinstripes on Armand's pajama as well as the bedroom design in Dubai. With the comment re Louis "missing the natural world" in s1, I do think Armand is fully controlling the whole environment and keeping Louis in a golden cage in Dubai.

When the books come crashing down (which is in all likelihood connected to The Groan somehow) Armand will try to save Daniel. And he therefore might miss out on saving Louis.

I think Louis will throw himself off the balcony at sunrise (in a Merrick-esque event due to the (diary-) revelations) in an echo of Paul's suicide. I think they will think him dead and put him into his literal coffin and put pebbles on him, because he so loved the tree (which might have Claudia's ashes buried at its roots). (And that is why Jacob commented on "spreading Louis' ashes" through NOLA with these pebbles - because the Louis after will be changed.)

I think he will be resurrected through Lestat (and possibly Armand) as seen in the scene in the one trailer.

Lestat is somewhere near, probably comatose till the last episode. He will likely connected to The Groan, because while Armand certainly can conjure metaphysical events in the books this specific "hint" is imho connected to something else in that building.

That "something else" could very well be "Those Who Must Be Kept" because even in s1 there were a lot of Marius hints, and... well. The name has already dropped as well in s1, and in that one review there was that "Adam and Eve" hint... so I expect a lot more of THAT, too.

The Devil's Minion will be fact after the season - we have already heard about a bottle episode and Rolin's comments are fresh in my mind re ep5 and 8 and I expect those to set up, detail and then twist DM around.

Armand will save Louis and they will be hunted by Santiago, who Armand then defeats. Louis will burn down the theater with the fire gift (which he might discover during the season, I concur with @cbrownjc there (as well^^)).

The "Dream-Lestat" manifestations will be the representation of Louis' guilt, but also saying that what Louis cannot, for a lot of reasons. They will also taunt Louis with (and show us) that which Louis suppressed in s1.

Claudia will be (even more) breathtaking this season, which will make what will happen to her even worse to watch. That will not soften the blow of her diary-reveal (as said before likely at the trial) wrt Louis though, and I fully expect them to have the relevant entry read out (or narrated by her) live on stage.

I think the NOLA "reunion" will be around the year 2000 and that this is why Louis stopped killing, though why exactly will remain to be seen.

That's more or less it. I hope they'll think of the "Book of Hours" that got lost in Berlin (from ep6), I hope they'll think of Jonah, and maybe Miss Bricktop. I'm very interested to see what they do with Alice and Daniel's daughters, as daughters and twins are very important in the VC.

I'm extremely excited about the hints we'll get wrt more - since the Talamasca are apparently involved that opens the door to sooooooo much - and opens up crossover possibilities, too.

And I haven't heard anything of the "cameos" that Sam mentioned (of other vampires) - so we might see those in the last episodes as well.

Who knows, maybe Gabrielle will show up at the end!!! (And, maybe she will be the "interior designer"... and maybe, just maybe, Antoinette will show up as well.)

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centaurianthropology · 2 months

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Oh man, I think the Circle of the Crimson Mirror might just be MY Candela circle. I enjoyed the goofy schlock horror with the Circle of the Vassal and the Veil, and really enjoyed the amping up of horror in The Circle of Needle and Thread (though the horrors of war theming was not specifically for me, it was still well done). I haven’t gotten to watch the Circle of Tide and Bone because life happened, but from what I’ve heard it was very good.

But I was laughing out loud with glee for the first episode of the Circle of the Crimson Mirror. All these characters are delightful. The setting is fascinating (starting out OUTSIDE of Newfaire and expanding the world was really fun), the theming of Irish folklore horror gives a folk horror mixed with cosmic horror vibe that I’m really excited for. And Liam is just the sort of ruthless DM that is perfect for a horror game. Because for me, keeping your players wrapped up in the horror, making them at least a little genuinely afraid (after talking through Lines and Veils of course) in a fun and contained way IS the heart of playing a horror game. It’s the same as watching a horror movie, in that you WANT to be scared, that’s part of the enjoyment, but in a horror game the fun is having it happen to you.

And both folk horror and cosmic horror are some of my favorite subgenres, so this is hitting all my favorite sorts of horror. And because it’s me, see below for my much longer thoughts about this first episode and the characters. Because I’ve never found a topic I enjoy that I can’t write an essay about.

Liam comes for everyone straight out of the gate, doesn’t he? While I found the train cold open in chapter 2 exciting, I found this even more harrowing. With NPCs we barely know constantly imperiled, all the investigators are really sketched so clearly right off the bat with their actions rather than their more open explanations later. I love that all of them lean heavily into being out of their depth, even sometimes making poor choices because of it. The players are aware they are in a horror game. The characters are not.

So let’s talk about those characters:

MALCOLM TRILLS

Imari Williams was the player at the table I had no prior experience with, and I love what he’s doing here. He puts his whole body into acting out the scene, even at the table. Even before we know he was a Sole Survivor of a massacre during the war (and I found it deeply entertaining that Imari couldn’t help but dump his backstory all over the floor. Liam’s gently encouraging everyone to hold it back for dramatic moments, and Imari is just so excited he’s like “NO! HERE IT IS!” not once but twice in the very first episode), we knew that. Because Imari is clearly dedicated to acting that out through what Malcolm chooses to do. He believes in saving others, especially after losing his entire squad. He has to do it, even (or maybe especially) for those civilians he doesn’t know. His entire point in being in Candela is saving people. So when Liam dunks two unnamed sailors in the ocean, Malcolm goes in. His friends are horrified. They love and value him, and they value him more than two randos. But to him, the randos are the point. Saving people is the point. So no matter how many disappointed dad-lectures he gets from Leo (and this is clearly not the first one he’s gotten), Malcolm is always going to be this way. He’s always going to try to play the hero in a horror setting, which is such a delicious choice for a horror player to make. Everyone at that table knows how perilous it is, but Imari is fully committed, and I love it.

We already know a lot of his background, but there are things we don’t know. We don’t know his relationship with his family, or why Leo is so disdainful of the Trills as a group. There seems to be an implication that the Trills are old money in Newfaire, perhaps, or at least a legendary family for other reasons. And apparently reckless heroism is a family trait. But what does Malcolm do in his day-to-day? He’s the one we don’t have a career or life for back in Newfaire yet, and I am interested to see who he is when he’s not playing the hero for Candela.

LEO AMICUS

I love the description of “I’m going to lie a little and say ‘early forties’” as an explanation for Leo’s age. It tells me a lot about his character right off the bat. We know he’s older (but not how much) and that he doesn’t want to admit he’s older. There’s just a touch of vanity already there, and given that he’s also a man in a dressing gown on a ship in a severe storm, who thinks that his presence is deeply inappropriate? Who asks if there’s a bar on a tramp steamer? We know so much about Leo already, and I love it all. Taliesin plays a dandy so well, his table reactions are so expressive, and it’s so clear that a setting like this is NOT where Leo shines. He shines in social situations, in parties and bars and places where his charms mean something beyond keeping a crewmember calm long enough that she can be knocked unconscious. But he’s so great in being totally overwhelmed and being useless in an action sequence.

And once the storm is over? We find out that Leo is very much the mother hen of the group (probably the oldest member). He knows Malcolm well, and treats Grimoria like a beloved niece. We haven’t gotten a lot of interactions between him and Edgar, but I’m excited to see what their relationship is like, as the two more cautious members of the group.

It was in his interactions with the other members of the circle that I realized how much like family this circle is. They are VERY close, despite ostensibly just being coworkers. There is such a deep care and concern for one another here and I love knowing how dangerous that also is in a horror game. And Leo is the one most open about his attachments here. We know he doesn’t have much blood family, and doesn’t talk to them. We know he looks at these people as his family.

And I love that, for that family, we see a REALLY different side of Leo. While he was overwhelmed and trying not to look at the blood on the boat, the second the Murphy girls (or whatever was masquerading as them) tried to murder Malcolm and the others, Leo was grabbing kitchen knives and trying to kill them. His perspective from his talk with Malcolm also remains consistent: you put your family first. When his family is threatened, meek Leo melts away and we have a man who will do whatever is necessary, kill whoever is necessary, or let anyone die to protect them. He seems to have few moral convictions, but an enormous amount of love, and that excites me for this character.

And I love that we actually know very little about him right now. We know he lives in Red Lamp (because of course he does) and that his apartment doubles as their chapterhouse. So he can be Team Dad at every meeting.

Also congrats to him for getting laid in the very first episode. Hot sailor dude propositions him, and Leo is all about that life. This Professional Man of Leisure is clearly gay catnip.

DR. EDGAR LYCORIS

I was so excited that Alex was finally going to be in a filmed Candela game (he was apparently one of the play-testers during its development, and it’s so clear he knows the rules). Dr. Lycoris is cool, calm, almost robotic in his presentation. He’s definitely a classic Alex character with his calm and his normal-guy-in-a-group-of-weirdos vibe (while secretly being very much a weirdo himself), and filled with casual competence and rudeness. But at the same time there are hints of how much he cares about this circle too. Him quietly calling Grimoria ‘Grim’ when she’s unconscious and he’s tending to her, telling her, “You can’t sleep forever, Grim,” in such a fond tone. The two of them clearly have some quiet history together, and there is a real softness between them that I’m excited to see them dig into as they get deeper into the game. There’s clearly a long-standing connection with Malcolm too, with both of them extremely aware of one another’s skills and weaknesses, working together seamlessly, especially in moments of extreme stress. I want to see more of these soft moments, these personal moments when his icy demeanor cracks, and I imagine we’re going to get plenty of them, given that THIS is how intense the first episode was.

He and Leo are the two characters we know the least about at this point. We know that Edgar is a surgeon working in the main hospital in Newfaire. We know that he is cool under pressure, and that he is both used to fighting (his immediate shift into using his scalpel as a precision weapon to go after arteries and tendons is such a nice touch for the character), but also can really be shocked by sudden violence (I love that he totally freezes after THAT happened to Declan’s mother). He states that he wears nice and fashionable clothing, but the clothing is almost wearing him rather than the other way around, like someone picked them out for him. I want to know who that other person is (is it Leo???). I want to know who he is when he’s not trying to wear what other people expect of him.

I am so excited to get to know Dr. Lycoris.

GRIMORIA

Likely a stage name, and I do wonder if we'll get her birth name, or if that even matters to her at this point. Mechanically, I am thrilled to see a Candela player try to homebrew a multiclass in this system. She’s essentially gone for a Medium/Magician hybrid. We know she works as a procurer of esoteric artifacts. She performs shows with smoke bombs, so likely is a stage magician, and that she has been able to channel spirits since she was a small child.

And we know that she’s 18. In a group in which consists of a man who is at least in his mid-forties, a man who is 32, and a man who is a surgeon (so has at least obtained advanced training, and is probably in his late twenties at minimum, and is likely in his thirties given the hints that he served as a battlefield surgeon during the war), Grimoria is YOUNG. Absurdly so. The guys care about her in a different way than they do one another. They look out for her in subtle ways, though are all very careful not to treat her as a child. The softness between her and Edgar is reflected in the overtly familial way that Leo talks to her, treating her like a very clever niece, but also the person he finds the most calming in the group. It’s fun to see that, even though he treats her as his relative, he doesn’t treat her as a child. She’s the one he goes to when he needs to clear his head. He just wants to listen to her read aloud. He finds talking with her soothing, and it’s clear why. She has a good head on her shoulders, and is rising to the occasion, so while he is caring for her, he also intrinsically understands her need to care for him as well. And Aimee really sells that in-between nature of being 18. It’s such a great portrayal of someone on the verge of being an adult, but not quite there yet. Someone her friends want to care for, but also want to treat like an adult and like any other member of the group. There is a tension in those relationships purely because of her age.

I also like that she’s the most pure investigator of the group. She’s the one who pushes for information, who has a burning desire to KNOW. And that’s a great flaw and danger for a character in a horror setting. The desire for knowledge in cosmic horror is so dangerous. Her willingness to channel spirits right off the bat is dangerous. She is, in her own quieter way, just as reckless as Malcolm and I love to see it. Aimee is throwing herself into this, playing a character who doesn’t know she has limits let, and is eager to push every boundary. I can’t wait to get to know her even more.

CONCLUSIONS

I love that we have two cautious characters and two reckless characters. I love that we have a balance, and we have a group that instantly portrays exactly how close they all are to one another. We’re not sure how these bonds were forged, but they are so well portrayed and so clear. These people love one another. They would do terrible things for one another, and I can’t wait to see what they go through together.

Count me very excited and very eager for next month’s addition to their story (and count me already sad we only get three episodes with them).

#candela obscura #circle of the crimson mirror #I love them all so much already #Malcolm Trills #Leo Amicus #Edgar Lycoris #Grimoria #Imari Williams #Taliesin Jaffe #Alex Ward #Aimee Carrero

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