#independent proteges

[fantasticstoryteller]

Plot thought. Go forth, Tumblr, and play.

The Team is on a mission to infiltrate Axion Labs. There are just enough red flags to ping the Justice League's radar, but not enough evidence for them to do anything. So, the mission.

The mission has been derailed. They found a cloning chamber. A cloning chamber. And there are clones!

Granted, the clones aren't of Superman, but that didn't much matter to them. They were clones! In tubes! Children clones that were being forcefully aged!

Conner may have accidentally smashed a few things. And Tim may have--accidentally, he swears!--hit a few keys that opened the pods prematurely. And Cassie definitely, with intent and on purpose, bundled up all three clones in clean lab coats, and Artemis absolutely grabbed two of them to load them in the ship. What? Were they expected to just leave the children there?

What did the League mean, "there's no one to take care of them?" Duh! The Team can do it! They rescued the children, after all.

*

Meanwhile Dan, Danny, and Dani are trying to figure out why they're not back to full size yet after having been rescued from the GIW.

[easy-there-leftovers]

Mixed Messages

Written with season 1 Spencer in mind

Summary: The 5 times that you think you might hate Spencer Reid + the 1 time you realize you can't.

Alternatively; You're completely oblivious to your own growing feelings for Spencer that it constantly puts you in harm's way.

This can be seen as a prequel-sequel + sequel (?) to "A Question Unasked," but can be read independently of it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader | cw: slight spoilers for s1e02, s1e04, s1e06, s1e10, and s1e18 | reader gets really mean in the later half lol |slight description of canon-typical violence, slight timeframe switches because it made more sense that way | word count: 8.9k (yowza--)

“It’s something, I know it is.” You mutter to yourself, rubbing the pads of your fingers together in an attempt to gather your thoughts. But you can’t. 

Can’t find it. 

Can’t find that one word.

“What do you call that thing when you–” you snap your fingers at your colleague. Your equal. “I’m sorry– what do you call the urge to do something or behave a certain way?”

This was your second case out on the field with the rest of the BAU since you’ve been recruited, and it had not been easy for you. 

The BAU always seemed like a prestigious unit to be a part of. Only the best of the best ever got to rub elbows up in that department, having been founded by Jason Gideon and David Rossi. 

Two of the most legendary profilers in the world.

And right now you, you haven’t been feeling the best. But Aaron Hotchner seemed to have thought otherwise.

Spencer thinks for a moment, trying to understand what you had just asked him while he stared at the board that still had the team’s ideas on it. 

“Actually, it could be a number of things; urges, cravings, stressors, compulsions–”

“That one! You’re amazing at this, Dr. Reid.” 

After noticing your knack for the more analytical aspects of the job, your mentor, the unit chief himself, had assigned you to work with one Dr. Spencer Reid. Another fresh grad that could not have been any older than you, but certainly seemed way smarter. 

He said that you would work well together.

And you believed him.

You looked at the calendar that had been marked when the fires were started, fully missing how the genius had frozen at your praise, and you frantically reviewed the theory in your head. 

Double-checking, triple-checking, and nodding when you see it’s consistent.

You then hurriedly pulled up the recording of Matthew in his dorm. Hovering so close to the screen, that Spencer had to be equally as close to it, and by extension to you, in order to even try seeing what you were seeing.

 “Do you see it?” You look back at him, and his face is so close, you almost lose your nerve but thankfully, Gideon opens the door to check up on the both of you.

He pauses as if he’s seeing something he shouldn’t be, but carries on anyway.

“Don’t just look at the next move. It’s like chess, think three steps ahead.” He says it mostly to Spencer, you notice, but you also notice how he was slightly bothered by your proximity to his protege. 

He doesn’t say anything about it, but you’re working as a profiler now for a reason.

You move away a little. 

When he leaves, Spencer turns to look at you again and asks what you saw. 

“See this?” You ask as you point to the part where there were two, clearly lit windows on screen and he nods. “There are two fires, right?” He nods again.

“Now look at this,” You show him the part where Matthew gets wet with gasoline, and is eventually set aflame. 

“That was the third fire.”

You see Spencer’s eyes light up at your statement, and you hurriedly scrub back to where the unsub had been trying the door knob. Making sure to zoom in on the handle.

This time, it's the boy-genius that says it. “He turns the knob three times.” He looks at you to confirm his statement, and you nod. Looking into his eyes. 

Something you did out of respect.

“Right, so if we’re not wrong,” you use the pronoun on purpose, “the professor’s office should have something to do with the number three as well.”

He walks with you to the burned office, professor Wallace’s office, and there you collectively discover more of the same number. 

You have all the evidence you need.

***

“Sir Hotchner, we know why the profiles never fit.” It’s you who opens the door first, but Spencer is the one that carefully closes it behind you.

He looks at Gideon. “You were right to tell Morgan not to rely on precedent.” He then sets up the computer that you two had brought and you continue for him.

“So far, the fires that have been set are completely task-oriented.”

Hotch quirks his brows at that. “So once the fires are set, the unsub is done?”

You nod.

“Correct, sir. The reason why the profile never fit is because it contradicts the mold of a classic serial arsonist– his use of fire is the compulsion of a completely different disorder.” “Which is?” Gideon questions.

“An extreme manifestation of OCD– Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.” Spencer answers as he finally found out how to turn the computer on. The two of you exchanging lines in perfect synchronization.

“He does everything in threes. And if I’m right, he’ll have to kill again.”

The four of you discuss the behavioral evidence that had led to this discovery, with Spencer taking the lead as he mentions its possible tie to ‘scrupulosity,’ a type of OCD centering on religious obsession. 

As you continue though, and you know you shouldn’t take it to heart, but the way that Gideon’s constantly questioning your ideas and not Spencer’s was starting to make you feel uneasy. As if you were a bug under his careful scrutiny. 

Or was it the way that you sat?

 Granted, there were only three chairs in the area, so you had absentmindedly sat on the bit of the desk that had been uncluttered. No one else seemed to be bothered by it, and certainly not Spencer, who had cleared the area nearest to him just for you. 

So what…?

Being the non-confrontational kind, but not one to be pushed around, you take a mental departure from the discussion and start thinking about what else could be useful to the case. Bringing something new to the table that’s relevant.

You try to think if there had been anyone that stood out to you. Spencer had mentioned religious obsession, and the call from earlier definitely supported the idea, but you couldn’t single out one theology student that would fit that criteria.

You tried getting up from where you sat. Pacing has always helped you gather your thoughts, but you didn’t even need to take those few steps when you felt the cold sweat run down your back.

And it seemed like Gideon had noticed it. “What is it?”

You turned to slowly face the rest of them. “I think I know who it might be.” You groan as you think about it.

 “And it’s not a he.”  If you thought about this too late and another fire is happening right now– 

—-------

It wasn’t until you were on the flight home that you felt like you could breathe easy again. You didn’t have to be near Gideon anymore, giving you the side eye every time you were the least bit close to his protege.

You could just exist silently while you think about what to write in your report.

It wasn’t Spencer’s fault, nor his mentor’s, you thought as you stared at the somewhat empty file in your hand.

 You’re sure that Reid didn’t mean to take credit for the theory that you had essentially spelled out for him, and you’re also sure that Gideon was just a little uncomfortable with how unprofessional you might’ve seemed. 

Looking all cozied up with his golden boy. That had to be the only reason why he practically ignored you, but congratulated the boy-genius.

You sigh and wonder if you’ll ever get on his good side. Maybe you just needed to work a little harder.

As you nod at your resolve, it's your mentor that takes a seat in front of you.

“Congratulations on your second case.” You’re still a little starstruck, getting to work with him, but you manage out a polite, ‘thank you’ as a response. 

You try to make yourself look busy by rereading the other file that had been completed.

You already made a fool of yourself in front of one of your seniors, you didn't want to mess up in front of him too. Hotch could–

“I meant it, by the way.” 

You look up at him again. Eyes wide in question, and perhaps fear, as you realize you don’t understand what he’s talking about.

“You were focused on that calendar more than any of us, even before we landed in Arizona. You recognized the pattern before you even knew what it meant. And that definitely helped.”

“Oh.” Is all you could say, because what else could you have said?

A small laugh leaves your mouth. He recognized you for your efforts. Made it known that he saw what you saw, and that what you saw was helpful. 

Without the usual mention of the boy-genius.

It was a moment just for you. 

A moment where you vowed to work harder. Smarter.

And the moment you knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner was the best leader that you could ever have.

“Oh and agent?” Both you and Spencer look back to see your supervisor, but you see that it’s you that he’s singling out. “A private word, if you please.”

You nod without a second thought, despite not knowing what this other meeting could possibly be for. You were just as clueless as you were about the one earlier. 

What you weren’t clueless about was how you felt towards your situation. You had been assigned to work with Spencer so often that you were starting to get sick of it. 

Not a slight to his company at all, on the contrary! You actually enjoyed it! He was a fascinating and accomplished young man that charmed his way into your heart with his little fun facts and references. 

And if that weren’t enough, Morgan hadn’t exactly coined the nickname “pretty boy” just for laughs.

 Dr. Reid lived up to that expectation. 

With his soft brown hair, bright, inquisitive eyes, and how cozy he always seemed in his clothes— how could anyone dislike him? 

No, it was the attention that you were getting that was starting to frustrate you. Or perhaps the wrong kind of attention, would be more appropriate.

Lately, it seemed as if you were only being treated as an extension of Dr. Reid. As if you were always attached at the hip, and that you always knew where he had to be and what it was that he was doing. 

You don’t know where all this came from. Not even a little bit.

All you know is that it was slowly starting to rub you the wrong way, and that you wanted a semi-permanent departure from the situation.

But that didn’t happen because Spencer had just unknowingly shut down your only chance.

You digress, and put your feelings aside for now. You were at work, after all.

“What did you want to discuss with me sir?” 

Hotch makes the effort to clear away his desk for a bit, and places his hands on top of it. Grasping them together as he looks at you with his usual stern expression.

“We’ll be issuing you a gun soon. You’re qualified to own one after having enough hours on the field, and you’ve shown a respectable record, so please keep that in mind.”

Your eyes widen in glee. Those were just a few words, but you couldn’t help how your heart swelled in pride at them.

It wasn’t the gun that you were happy about, it was what it represented.

Being issued a gun by the bureau signified that you were officially part of the team, and that you were deemed a responsible enough member of the organization to be trusted with it.

You should be honored to be given this chance and yet it felt sort of wrong— something didn’t sit right with you.

“Sir, with all due respect, while I’m thankful for the opportunity, I don’t see why I’m being issued a gun when Dr. Reid has still yet to have one.”

He sighs at that, as if he had hoped that you wouldn’t ask, but he tells you anyway. 

“Dr. Reid has failed numerous firearm qualifications and will be retaking his test soon.”

You nod slowly, still not quite seeing the relation between the two scenarios.

He sighs again, but this time, with a small, tight smile. 

“We’ve been thinking that it would instill more confidence in him if you knew your way around a gun. He seems to have a great respect for you, and seeing you have one might help him a bit.”

You smile at that and respond good-naturedly. “Duly noted, sir! I’ll make sure he has the confidence that could rival even Derek Morgan’s.”

He shows you a polite smile and dismisses you promptly. Getting back to his stack as you nod and you make your way to his door.

It shouldn’t bother you, and it doesn’t, you think.

 A job’s a job. 

If it wasn’t going to be you, it was going to be someone else. You just so happened to have been given this particular job due to the presumed rapport you had with one another, and you saw no problem with that.

You trust your boss, and it’s not like you dislike Spencer, so it shouldn’t bother you at all.

And yet it does, ever so slightly, when you see Morgan and Elle, crowding and cooing around him like he was a baby when you make it out of Hotch’s office.

You’re confused at what it is that you’re feeling, but you hear something akin to the word, ‘math.’ What could they be teasing him about now? 

“Is something going on here?” You hope they don’t see how hard you’re trying to keep a straight face. Looking to and fro.

You’re at work now, and you can’t let your emotions get the best of you. 

 "Was just caught trying to add my stack onto pretty boy's plate." Morgan says with his usual chuckle.

You detect a slight hint of something else hidden somewhere in there, probably another inside joke that you weren’t in on, but you can’t bring yourself to pay it any mind. 

So you let out a small, ‘hm’ to let them know that you heard what he said, and you eventually turn your back to them to reach your desk.

You don’t see the way Derek shoots you a knowing look.

And you don’t see the way Spencer looks at you longingly either. Too busy burying yourself in another stack of files, sure to go overtime once again, to drown out the unknown feeling that was welling up inside you. 

Did you hate Spencer Reid?

“Isn’t it amazing he knows what he knows and he’s only twenty-four?” Gideon huffs out and gives Aaron a small smile in response.

“Imagine what he’ll know by fifty.” 

It’s times like these that you remember that he does have the capability to smile. Well of course he’s smiling, his surrogate son looked like he was having the time of his life, blowing out those trick candles. 

Everyone crowded around him.

Everyone but you and the two seniors.

You want this moment to be something that everyone can enjoy, and you know just how much it would sour Gideon’s mood if you were right over there. So you opted to take your place right next to Hotch.

And Hotch seemed to notice that.

“Why aren’t you with the rest of them?”

You really don’t want to answer that right now. Not when the reason is staring right back at you, waiting for your response as well.

“I can see the party just fine from here.” Is what you settle for, and look right at Spencer’s still heaving back to make a point.

Before he could question it any further, he’s called to the other side of the room where a phone call was waiting for him. 

Reid takes the opportunity to excuse himself and take his place by Gideon’s side.

“You having fun?” The elder asks and he nods slowly at that.

“Yes, definitely. I am definitely– having fun.” 

He punctuates each pause with a tight-lipped smile and a snark that is just itching to break free and you can’t help the little chuckle that escapes you. As it happens however, you quickly try to hide it behind a cough and a cover of your mouth.

You’re right next to Gideon, you need to look professional, you think, no matter how cute or ridiculous Spencer might look. 

You quickly try to find Hotch with your eyes to ground yourself. Trying your best to zone out and not pay attention to the conversation happening right beside you, but it’s getting increasingly harder to do that.

“I wonder where the cake was from.” The younger one asks absentmindedly, but you feel the twitch of your fingers at the question. 

Gideon subtly looks over to you, but he doesn’t answer him. Instead asking if he made a wish yet, which quickly changes the trajectory of Spencer’s questions.

You let out a breath of relief, but the moment is short-lived when you see the solemn expression on Hotch’s face.

“Sorry guys. Party’s over.” You put your game face on, and quickly excuse yourself from them to grab your go bag. 

What you didn’t see was that Spencer had failed to notice Gideon’s gaze because he had been looking somewhere else. 

He had been looking at you. Waiting for you to greet him with a happy birthday like the rest of them did.  You were the only one that wasn’t there, after all.

But you had already been looking at Hotch, and that, he notices.

***

The more cases you work for the BAU, the more you realize how much of your work isn't just the investigation anymore. 

You feel it when you still see the victims’ faces when you close your eyes. 

Feel it in the hammer of your chest when you have to face off another degenerate with a gun. 

Feel it in the tenseness of your shoulders when either Spencer, or Gideon, or Hotch, or any of them are looking at you because if they even have the slightest idea that you’re not doing fine, you’ll lose your place on the team.

If you even had one, that is.

It was a strange position you were in. Everyone was expecting you to be boy-genius’ sidekick or something. Having all these ideas of you being someone bigger and stronger than you really were. 

Someone that was smart enough to show him just where to look, but not smart enough for the rest of the local PD to listen to because for some reason, it was more believable when it came out of Dr. Reid’s mouth.

You still remember how Morgan rolled his eyes at you when you corrected him. ‘It’s a ballad, actually. Not a poem.’

What’s worse was that the only person that didn’t seem to have this expectation of you was Spencer himself because he had no idea that any of this was even going on. 

He didn’t ask for this.

He was just doing his job, just like you were.

You’re officially off duty, now that you’re on the flight back to Quantico. So you unfortunately no longer have the excuse to shut away your feelings for the sake of your profession. 

You sigh and figure that maybe a little shut eye could help, but that idea is completely thrown out the window when you hear the soft pads of rubber-soled shoes shuffling on the jet’s carpeted floor.

You look up to see the less than comfortable posture of one Dr. Spencer Reid. Obviously caught between trying to go back to the main space, and just staying near the tail where you were.

Your heart warms at the sight and you invite him over.

You were thankful that he took up on your offer. 

Even under the harsh lights of the craft, you still notice just how soft Spencer looks. Even softer now that he’s donning your gift, and rambling on and on about how cool the color purple was to him. Gesticulating with his hands in a frenzy and you relax for what feels like the first time in months.

If you didn’t work together, you realize, you could’ve been a lot closer. He’s everything that you liked about a guy. He was smart and sensible, with a childlike wonder for anything and everything. 

There was an endless amount of things that he could accomplish, with a brain like that.  

And he was only twenty-four.

He was just like you, so why weren’t you closer? You ask yourself this as you sigh out, but you immediately find your answer in the form of his and your mentor looking right back at you. Whispering amongst themselves and occasionally shaking their heads. 

Looking just like they had earlier when you had brought in Spencer’s cake before the rest of BAU had showed up for duty. 

You know that there’s no way Reid can see them. Not when his back is quite literally turned to them, so you opt to ignore it. Maybe it was all in your head.

And maybe working with him so often wasn’t so bad. 

After all, how could you hate Spencer Reid when he’s this happy from just a scarf?

You see the scarf again, soon enough. 

Maybe a little too soon.

The BAU had received an urgent call to McAllister, Virginia to investigate the supposed work of a satanic cult. Two bodies that had sustained identical blunt-force trauma to the head were recovered, one skeleton and one fresh, but the team was debating the involvement of the cult in the case.

“You're saying that there's no such thing as devil worship?” Elle asks with disbelief, but is quickly answered by Gideon.

“Not at all. But most of the satanism that we've seen is juveniles damaging property, desecrating churches, cemeteries,” He shrugs a little as he pauses.

“Besides,” you add. “Satanists, removed from religious stigma, are just ethical hedonists. They reject the perceived oppression of the Christian community by building their own, and indulging in more worldly pleasures. They’re not inherently violent.”

The elder nods at that, and you feel a bit proud of yourself in that moment.

“And to my knowledge, there has never been a proven case of a satanic ritual killing in the United States.”

“Well, maybe there is now.”

***

The scene is certainly interesting.

Gideon, Reid, JJ, and you were curious about the state of the older body, so you had made your way down the steep slope to check up on it. You get acquainted with the local sheriff while you’re there too and he explains that they found the body when they were doing their own investigation.

 Just seventy-five feet away from where they found Adam.

“It's a man. The male pelvis is more narrow and the opening at the bottom is heart-shaped, as opposed to oval.” Spencer announces as he prods at the body’s clothes with a stick, but he is immediately distracted by another element.

“Melted wax?”

“Candle wax?” JJ asks as she leans forward a bit to see it too. Spencer agrees.

“Candles are used in rituals.”

“They’re also used on birthday cakes.” Gideon is no longer interested in the scene and looks for something else that could be nearby. 

You, however, notice something different about the body. You were expecting it to look different.

If you were blitzed from behind, gravity tells you that you should fall forward. Chest on the ground.

But this skeleton’s chest was facing up. 

“Actually, they were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century, Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a pagan ritual.”

You nod, seemingly not paying attention, but you add on to that. Much to Spencer's delight.

“Yeah, they thought that evil spirits lurked around the days of major changes so they lit candles for every year that had passed. Anway, sir, do you happen to have a good picture of Adam’s dead body?”

The sheriff narrows his eyes at the two of you, then looks at JJ who only shakes her head with a smile. 

“What kind of kids did you bring out here?” 

***

You’re surprised it took you this long to actually feel like you needed a gun. 

Hotch, as always, had paired you and Spencer together.

 Again. 

But this time, it was to go out on the field.

You had been left behind with him to continue searching the Jenson’s house. To look for anything that could concretely point to the group being responsible if the case ever went to court, but you and Reid found nothing.

And it was expected that you would find nothing. You and him had agreed that it was just far too convenient if you did, but then that kid— Cory— He asked you two to check the abandoned house farther up. 

A house that you’re pretty sure not even his father knew about.

And that’s when you got the idea. It was dark, law enforcers weren’t nearby, and you were trying to trace the tracks of an unsub that lived in an area only locals wouldn’t get lost in. You had every right to feel nervous. 

Especially when you had that sinking feeling that the unsub was the one guiding you right where he wanted you to be.

So when he led you to a house that had the goth kids’ insignia written in bright, red paint, you knew that you had to play along. 

But you also knew that whatever may or may not have been up there, the team wouldn’t want Spencer to see.

You didn’t want him to see.

So you look back at him, and nod. Giving him a look that told him that you would check the house alone, that you had a plan, and that he should stay exactly where he was until you gave him the okay clear.

By the time you got back down, he knew you saw it. 

You saw the girl, and you knew you had to get Spencer out of here.

Fast.

“Was she in there?” Cory grabbed you by the shoulder, and you could only gulp.

You had to think quickly, but you were also still so shocked to see her in– whatever state it was that you saw.

And then this kid was just pretending like he didn't know jackshit about it.

“She was in there.” Was all you could breathe out, vacantly looking past the kid that eventually let you go.

 You instinctively reach for your phone, speed dialing Hotch, but the service was so bad up here that it wouldn’t even go through. You had to clear the area, in case this goes haywire.

With no other choice, you said what you thought could get him out of there.

“Dr. Reid, I need you to check back downhill and see if the deputies have returned.” He looks at you incredulously.

“What? No! I can’t leave you here– ” 

“We need the rest of the sheriffs and the crime scene team here.” Looking dead into his eyes, he still doesn’t relent.

You need to calm yourself down. The more he thinks you’re not okay, the more difficult it’s going to be to convince him to leave.

He whispers your name as if it’ll persuade you. Grasping your shoulders like Cory did, albeit more gently.

“Right now, you’re experiencing an acute stress response, also known as the fight-or-flight response. It would be much safer for all of us to–” “Do as you’re told.” 

He freezes, but he’s still looking right at you. Eyes shaking in what you assume to be fear or worry, but he eventually nods and leaves. Constantly looking over his shoulder at you and he trips a little because of it.

You make sure that he’s out of sight before turning back to the football-genius. 

 You saw the gun he wasn’t so subtly concealing in his pants, and there was no way you were going to risk him hurting anyone else. You included.

You position yourself right in front of the house. If he makes a break for it and runs in there, it’ll be game over for just one cop and one manic robber. So you try to keep the open forest his only escape route.

That’s when you start cornering him. 

Telling him that you knew what the profile said about the killer and how it all seemed too good to be true. How the crime had to have been done by someone who was just as smart and connected as him.

How it could have only been done by him.

What you failed to take into account however was how Spencer would have definitely come back to check on you and report his findings.

Your heart drops as he stumbles into the fray.

Which is why you’re here right now.

Gun drawn at the kid, with his own resting right on your friend’s head. 

“She shouldn't have gotten mixed up in all this, it was his run! I didn’t mean to hurt her, but make no mistake– I will shoot your boy right now.”

You raise your hands and drop your gun in surrender. Scared of what he might do to him if you don’t.

—-

You hear Aaron Hotchner shout for you as he approaches uphill and you sigh. 

You’re fully expecting to hear a lecture, but not the look of deep impatience that graces your supervisor’s face.

 “Agent, I hope you understood what just happened.”

You shrink under his gaze, but he doesn’t let up. “Your actions during this operation put both you, and Reid, in serious danger.”

“Sir, but we handled it. I even made extra sure to evacuate Dr. Reid from the premises, I just wasn’t expecting him to come back and–”

“But that doesn't change the fact that he had a gun on Reid mere moments before you took him down. You were antagonizing him and while you may have been successful in apprehending him, what you did also put Reid at risk.”

This was unfair. 

He was talking like you hadn’t had the same gun pointed at you too. 

Like he hadn't made an effort to shoot at you.

There was nothing you could’ve said that could stop him, and you acted as fast as you could but you knew Hotch wouldn’t listen to any of it.

So you stayed quiet. Nodding along in understanding as he gave you a rundown of everything that you could’ve done better, and anything that you could’ve said differently.

Things that, he said, you could’ve done better while trying to keep yourself calm. 

Tring to keep yourself calm after discovering a dead body, and being threatened by someone that had your friend at gunpoint.

What’s worse is that not even a moment after Hotch left you to talk to the rest of the team, Morgan came and it looked like he had his fair share of complaints too.

“Sir Derek Morgan, I understand that you might be mad–” “Oh, so you know I’m mad?” You curse and groan out childishly, you know that, but you just really wanted to leave now. 

“Kid, I get that he jumped you, but you can’t just go rogue and expect everyone else to know what you’re doing.” 

You scoff.

“I didn’t go ‘rogue,’ I sent out Spencer to get backup so I could handle him myself. He would’ve been out of the line of fire. I did that to protect him–”

“No. You did that to play hero.” 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“Splitting up and acting on your own like that wasn’t heroic. It was reckless. Do you know how much sleep he’s losing right now and how much more he’s going to lose just when all of this hits?”

You shake your head humorlessly. Why is it always about him?

 You’re not responsible for knowing anything and everything about him, you’ve barely known each other for a year. Why is it suddenly part of your job description to be boy-genius' caretaker?

“He’s been having nightmares,” he says your name with a weight in it.

“Don’t give him any more reasons to stay up at night.”

And he just leaves you right there. Going up to the very guy you were talking about, who was being checked by the only medic the county had on standby. Probing to see if he was alright. 

And he seemed like it. If the way his face lit up at Morgan’s embrace or the way that he smiled when JJ congratulated him was anything to go by. 

Or the way that Hotch patted his back to soothe him.

 Or the way that Elle seemed to be intently listening to what he was saying–

He’s not your responsibility, so why the hell should you care?

God, it just wasn't fair.

And you know that. You know that he didn’t ask for any of this to happen, and that you should be happy that he’s fine–

But you can’t bring yourself to look at him for any longer. Not when he goes to look at you with that tight-lipped smile and raised brows that makes him look like he can’t do anything without you.

Not when it’s starting to look like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Not when it starts to feel like he’s doing this on purpose.

You’re starting to hate Spencer Reid.

After Morgan knocks some sense into the camera man that had been spying on the pair, Elle is the one that gives you his camera and makes her way to Spencer first. You know exactly what should be on that film, but you just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

That maybe if you didn’t look at it any closer, you wouldn’t see anything that could make you hate him more than you already do.

That he had been behaving and just being the good, perfect boy that Gideon and Hotch, and everyone else, seemed to rave on and on about.

But you didn’t even need a proper light to see just what was on it.

And you made sure he knew exactly what he had done.

“I– I fell in–”

“Doctor Spencer Reid!” Seeing you walking towards him with an anger he had never seen directed towards anyone before made him freeze where he stood. Cowering under your gaze.

“What in the fuck was going on inside you goddamn head, huh?” Elle had already left by then to talk to the camera guy with Morgan just a few feet away to leave you two to it. 

She knew what was going to happen, and she was going to let it. It needed to.

“It was an accident, I swear! She pulled me in and I—” He tried to reason, but you were having none out of it.

“And you what? Decided that then and there was the right place to eat her face off? Might I remind you that you are still on duty and this behavior is completely unacceptable!”

 If this had been you, this is exactly what you would’ve been lectured about.

But Spencer feels his brows knitting together and he shakes his head in confusion.

“You’re-- not jealous about me kissing Lila?”

“You think I’m what?!” 

You cannot believe the gall of this man. 

Cannot comprehend how oblivious he seems to the severity of the situation. 

And for what, because some hot blonde just happened to give him the slightest bit of attention? That since the rest of the team wasn’t around, he could go ahead and play house with some model and waste all his training on the field for nothing? 

You shake your head incredulously at the thought. 

“I don't know just what the hell is going on in that fuckass head of yours, Doctor, but that little bone-headed stunt that you just pulled? Could’ve cost you your life and hers.” 

Spencer tried to quell your anger. Tried to apologize, but you just kept going. Seemingly growing more and more frustrated at his feeble attempts.

 “I couldn’t give less of a shit who you do and don’t kiss in your spare time, Mr. 187. But let me remind you of something in case that brain of yours got all scrambled from exchanging extracellular fluids with Miss Archer,” 

No longer caring for his aversion for germs, because he certainly stopped caring about that earlier today, you brought your index and middle finger up to rest dead center on his forehead.

He closed his eyes and whimpered at your touch.

“You are still being pursued by a psychotic killer who is going around, shooting people in the head. We’re lucky that the guy in the bushes was just some sorry voyeur doing his goddamn job, but if it had been anyone else, you would’ve been fucking–!” 

Spencer feels the contact get ripped away from him suddenly, and he instinctively chases after it. 

The realization of how insane that must’ve been however, makes him open his eyes. 

He sees Morgan pulling you into his chest as he strides towards Lila’s house. He sees you struggle against the hold, but as his friend keeps shushing you and repeating your name from inside, you eventually calm down and relax. Disappearing into his form as Derek’s back now faces him and he can’t see you anymore.

The boy-genius feels his heart clench at the sight. A feeling not so dissimilar to what he felt when the blonde first started kissing him. 

He didn’t know what to do then. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but some small, sick part of him just wanted your attention on him so badly that he was willing to do whatever it took for that to happen.

He had been waiting for so long–

But as he recalls how you were seething at him, how even though he had your eyes right where he wanted them to be, all he could feel was the heavy cloak of shame burdening him. Weighing on his form like the weight of his wet, pool bacteria-infected clothes.

And something tells him that no amount of bathing or scrubbing would ever rid him of it. 

He doesn’t even notice the rest of the team coming back to apprehend the trespasser until Elle picks up the roll of film that you had dropped when you were dragged away. Holding it out for him to take. 

He extends his hand out of instinct, but he crushes it soon after he recognizes what’s on it.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Is all that she says as she leaves him frozen there too. 

***

Meanwhile, you were still in Derek’s arms. Crying like some young little fragile thing and you hated it. 

You didn’t even know why you were crying anymore because even you knew that breaking a code of conduct was nothing to shed a few tears over.

“Come on, sweet girl, talk to me.” Morgan coos as he continues to hug you, which makes you sob all the harder. Embarrassed that an authority figure just saw you lose your shit on the job, so you shake your head no.

He’s probably going to tell Hotch and you’re going to get transferred out–

“We can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

But somehow those exact words had you spilling your heart out on to him. Doing so in such a frantic state as if this was a one-time opportunity that you were never going to be granted ever again.

So much so that all your insecurities came out of your mouth in word vomit.

How you tried so hard to do everything right. How you fought tooth and nail just to make it onto the team. 

How even though you were just as young as Reid, everyone else seemed to dote on him more. 

How everyone expected you to know just as much, if not more, than him so that he wouldn’t feel so out of place, and how every time that you didn’t, everyone only seemed to care because you had put him in danger.

How none of your efforts were ever noticed because they would either be overshadowed by Spencer’s, or brushed aside because it was not enough to make up for something that could’ve gotten him hurt.

And most of all, how bad you felt because none of it was his fault, and you knew you were being unfair to him.

And Morgan listened to all of it. Listening and occasionally apologizing when he knew that he had been guilty of one or two of those transgressions.

Patting your back and giving you all the comfort that he could before he knew you had to refocus on the case.

When you see Spencer again, his eyes remain low and you can’t bring yourself to apologize in that instant because you were still on duty and work had to be done.

No matter how sorry and how pathetic you felt, it had to wait.

What you don’t see is how his gaze lingers on his friend’s hand. Absent-mindedly moving up and down your arm in, what he understands to be, a protective manner. 

—————

He was being a distraction. A liability. To the case, or to Lila, or to you, you’re not sure anymore, but you needed him out. So you did exactly what you were hired at the BAU to do.

You’ve always thought the art piece on Lila’s wall was bizarre. And now that you’re looking at it again with a much clearer mind, you finally see why.

You had asked for everyone in the room to take the wall apart, after gaining Lila’s approval, and you all pieced together the final clue.

 A mural depicting the birth of the star that is now Lila Archer. 

After Spencer points out that the man in the mural was his ex-classmate, Parker Dunley, the team sees no further reason to question his involvement and makes the preparations to leave. 

Yet something is gnawing at you, telling you that this can’t be it. 

And at this point? No one is going to listen to a theory you have because nobody listens to you once Spencer says anything.

So you suggest the next best thing.

“Excuse me?” Your unit chief raises his eyebrows at your suggestion, but you can tell that it’s mostly a formality.

“Sir, with all due respect, it is in our best interest to relieve Dr. Reid of his position as Miss Archer’s bodyguard. He is now a potential target, and he knows Parker Dunley best among all of you. He would be most useful to the investigation if he joined the others.”

Spencer makes no attempt to contest, wanting nothing more than to just get this over with and talk to you when it’s all done, and Lila doesn’t say anything either. Just wanting the ‘traitor’ to leave her house and never come back.

Hotch senses this and sighs. He looks over to Gideon, who looks like he couldn’t care any less, and then back to you. 

“Alright then. You’re switching places with Reid. We’ll let you know if anything happens.”

He then discusses with the others that he’ll be joining JJ at the local PD while Morgan, Elle, Reid, and Gideon will be closing in on Dunley.

So that left you alone with Lila, which was going a lot easier than you had expected it to.

“I’m sorry about your boyfriend. If I knew you were a thing, I wouldn’t have tried so hard to kiss him.”

She seemed so guilty as she said it and you just shook your head, but you noted the use of the term, “try.”

“Oh Miss Archer, please don’t apologize. He's not my boyfriend. I was just really upset that he could’ve gotten you hurt when he was supposed to be protecting you.” 

You move to stand a little closer to her, still keeping a fair amount of distance so you wouldn’t crowd her. 

"Besides, I think he's more into you than you think."

Under more normal circumstances, you supposed that they could work. Spencer most likely only hesitated because he was holding on to some semblance of professionalism he could maintain with the beautiful woman.

In another life, maybe this would've panned out differently.

“I saw the way he looked at you, you know?” Now that interests you and you tilt your head at her. 

“Like he hated me?” 

Her laugh was empty as she shook her head. “You’re just like him.” Is all she said.

But before you could ask any further, a call had interrupted you. 

You looked at the caller ID and saw that it was the very guy you were talking about. ‘Dr. Reid,’ it read.  The sight makes you sigh.

You know him well enough that he would never call you for work, and that this must have been for something personal. 

‘Stay professional,’ you told yourself, so you drop the call.

If it had really been important, someone else would call you.

As soon as you move to put your phone down however, it rang again. You checked it and fair enough, this time it was from Derek Morgan. 

You bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sweet girl, listen to me. We have a name, and it’s ‘Maggie Lowe.’ We’re on our wa—Christ man—we're on our way back over there, okay? Stay put and we’ll let Hotch and JJ know.” 

There’s shouting from his end that worries you, but you nod with a hum and end the call. 

You turned back to Lila and asked her very hurriedly if she knew anyone by that name, and her reaction tells you everything. 

You try to tell her that she’s the unsub and just while she’s still confused at your sudden change in demeanor, her phone rings. 

She shows you that it’s ‘Mags’, her friend, and you immediately try to calm her down and ask her to keep her friend on the phone. Expressing softly, but with great urgency, that it is imperative they keep her on the line.

Just as Lila answers, you immediately dial Garcia. “Oracle of Quantico, speak if you deign to hear the truth.”

“Miss Garcia, I need an emergency trace to a cell phone from Lila Archer’s phone.” 

You hear her gasp a little, reasonably concerned that you had been speaking so softly. A stark contrast to your usually strong and sure voice, but she steels her own and lets you know that she’s on it. 

You recite to her Lila’s phone number, having memorized it from her manager, and you instinctively look back at her to see her still pacing on the phone. 

You try to smile warmly, mentally patting her on the back for her efforts, and she nods back in response. Somewhat thankful for yours. 

As you wait, you suddenly remember Spencer’s phone call from earlier. Was this why he called?

Fuck, what if he wondered off and had been calling for backup but you just dropped the phone on him?

Maggie could be anywhere. It would be no surprise to you if she had actually gone back to find Dunley to eradicate any leads that could trace back to her. What if she was–

You’re quick to tune back into your own call however when you hear Penelope halt her typing and call out your name. 

“Is Lila’s address 6028 Pike Street?”

You don’t like where this is going. “Yeah.”

“She’s calling from inside the house.”  You sigh, in relief? In fear?

 “I’m sending you backup right now, please be safe, my love.” She says with a tremor in her voice and you drop the call immediately. Catching the attention of the blonde in front of you.

“Lila–” but then you hear a shout and a thud from another room and you shake your head. You didn’t need to ask how she got in the house because that wasn’t important anymore. 

The profile was. And the profile said that it was an erotomanic killer. 

You could work with that. 

—----

It didn’t take long for you to find Maggie. Well, you'd laugh if you could, because it was more like she found you. 

On the other end of her gun. 

With Lila in her arms.

There was no way that you could stall for however long it would take for the rest of your team to get here, so your best shot at surviving this was to talk her out of it.

“Maggie, put the gun down–”

“Don’t call me Maggie, you don’t know me.” She spit out, venom in her voice as she tried ushering Lila out with her.

“I know what it’s like.”

 You don’t know what the fuck you were saying, but you were panicking. It wasn’t your first time being held at gunpoint, it had happened so often that Hotch even claimed you were always begging for it.

But this was different. None of the right words were coming to you. 

You had to think of a way to deal with this, fast, and you didn’t know how to make it believable enough.

“No you don’t, little girl. Don’t pretend like you do.”

“But I do!” You put your gun down in a panic and held your hands up in surrender.

“I know what it’s like to l-” your mouth went dry. “To love someone– someone that doesn’t love you back.” 

You seriously don’t know what the fuck you’re saying. 

Maggie laughs at what you say though.

“Well it sucks to be you, but my baby loves me. Isn’t that right?” She makes a show of tucking Lila’s hair behind her ear, but even through her fear, she denies her friend. 

“I don’t, Mags.” Maggie’s jaw tightens at that.

“Yes you do, I know you do– Don’t act like you don’t, you stupid, ungrateful–” you cut her off. 

“She doesn’t, Miss Lowe. And I know you know that.” She shakes her head, but still keeps her gun on Lila.

You push a little harder. “I know because I know what it’s like to love someone. To meet your match.” You approach her just a little.

She shifts the gun to you now, but you continue to push. 

“I know what it feels like to get tunnel vision. Where nothing matters, not even yourself, as long as it makes her happy. Keeps her safe. ” 

You look her in the eye, and you can tell that it’s not enough. You need to switch gears, but you can’t think of anything else to do.

“And– And I know what it’s like–to feel everything so strongly—so much so that you don’t even know what’s happening until it just is.”

You realize it now. It was all you

It was never about the teasing of your teammates, never about the expectation that Hotch or Gideon had.  

You never hated Spencer. You just wanted to belong. You just wanted to be treated like how he was. 

The realization makes your eyes water.

You didn’t even notice it, but as more and more words fall free from your mouth, all you can think about is him.

 About how you’re sorry. About how you never meant to hurt him. About how he doesn’t deserve your frustrations and that everything you did was just for him.

About how you could never hate anyone as loveable as him. 

You shake the thought away. Hands still up high.

Maggie’s eyes narrow, her finger twitching on the trigger. “You think you can understand me, huh? Talk your way out?”

You shake your head. “No, but I think I can reach you,” 

You take a step forward.

“I thought I hated him, Maggie. I thought he was doing it all on purpose. Kept thinking, ‘we were so similar.’ So why was it that being smart was special, and made everyone treasure him, but not me? And I think, maybe–”

You take another.  

“Maybe I was just scared. Scared that I wasn’t good enough. That I would always be overshadowed.”

Maggie’s grip on the gun tightens. “So what? You think that makes us the same?”

“No,” you say softly, taking another careful step forward.

 “But I do think that you’re the type of person that’s willing to do anything, no matter how desperate, to be seen.”

Maggie’s expression wavers, but the gun remains steady. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” you insist. “I know that hurting Lila won’t fill that void. It won’t give you what you’re looking for.”

Maggie’s hand trembles. “I would never hurt her--”

“Yes, you will. You will because you’re a danger to her, but that can change. You don’t have to hurt anyone anymore.”

Maggie’s face contorted with rage. 

“Shut up! You don’t know anything!”

When Maggie goes to shoot at you, you tackle the gun out of her hand. Wrestling her to the ground as you did.

 You look behind you and tell Lila to hurry and grab your gun from off the floor and leave, and she does just that.

 Not even sparing you, nor her ‘friend,’ a glance as she makes her escape to where you hope your team now was.

From outside, the team sees Lila holding a gun like a bomb in her hands, and running into the arms of Spencer Reid. The others that were still in their car quickly try to get out. To understand the situation, but then a single gunshot is heard from inside the house.

The rest of the team rushes in. 

Due to the results of my poll, there will be a part two! One where it's all from Spencer's point of view + the aftermath of this case lol

Please let me know what you think of this one though!! Or any ideas you might want to see in the second part, or literally anything at all--

Like my work? Consider tipping me!!

[celtrist]

Let's make our own fate

Needed practice with Alastor's colors before going at it with the wip piece I have (which ironically enough is another red string of fate piece). But while I do oh so enjoy Alastor being an independent mammal who doesn't need no mate, I 100% still have fun shipping with him myself from time to time. And this ship is probably my favorite with him (and y'know what, you can take this as a QPR thing or romance thing, why not?)! And, might I add, severely underrated when it has elements of radiobelle, radioapple, and radiostatic (in terms of colors at least) wrapped up together- HOW ARE PEOPLE SLEEPING ON THIS SHIP HELLO???

Joking aside, Emily and Alastor are in a weird place for me where I like them in this ship dynamic (QPR or romantic), but I also like them in a dynamic similar to what Alastor and Charlie have if you're going the mentor-protege route or parent-child route. Which is a very strange to like those two very opposing dynamics (primarily the lovey dovey and parent-child aspects because y'know... )

I don't imagine these two will really interact much in canon, but I really would love to see how their interactions would go down and if they'd be at all different from how Charlie and Alastor interact (seeing as Emily and Charlie are a wee bit similar y'know?)

[charleslee-valentine]

Trudy refills Vincent’s cereal. He’s 2-3 years old and blind in one eye. He doesn’t need more cereal, he just needs his bowl rotated so he can see the cereal that was left over on his blind side. Not that we necessarily know how Vincent communicates without speech, but she hardly gives him time to answer her question about more before she’s refilling the bowl anyways. This is her approach to parenting her boys in general.

There’s no interest in fixing their actual issues. Rather than help Vincent to see what he already has in front of him, she’d rather add more, inadvertently also adding more onto the side he can’t see. At some point, this would just add to the issue. Overcompensation into overwhelm. Bo is brought in for breakfast kicking and screaming and it’s sort of evident why Trudy puts all her love into Vincent to the point of it being suffocating and unhelpful. Sure it could be a simple case of favoritism, but with the aspect of overcompensation specifically, it seems that she wants to balance her guilt over failing to parent one of her sons by pouring more effort than necessary into Vincent. Rather than giving the extra attention to Bo, it’s refilling a non-empty bowl of cereal.

I don’t think that necessarily mean she loves Vincent more. She finds him easier to parent. Fill the bowl whether or not he needs it because that’s easier than unpacking where Bo’s massive emotional outbursts are coming from. It seems more like love-bombing than genuine kindness. He’s “being such a good boy today,” but the implied part is an unsaid comparison to Bo. As twins, and conjoined twins at that, they’re not independent of each other. Vincent’s behavior exists only to contrast Bo’s, from her perspective. “Fix” his needs, and she can fix them both. Hence, preferring just to duct tape Bo to a chair than help him any.

Then Vincent grows up to become her protege, starting in his childhood but lasting until even after Trudy’s death. Over thirty years have passed since they were toddlers in those high chairs, but Bo gives a hint about why Vince got that ‘special privilege’ to not be as physically abused. “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Only, God didn’t take anything. Victor Sinclair doing illegal, unqualified surgery on his babies is why Vincent lost half of his face. Trudy only uses God’s name and religion as a shield for her own guilt about how her boys turned out. But it’s more likely she included Vincent in the wax business because she again, was dumping affection onto him over and over as her strategy.

Otherwise there isn’t as much favoritism between the boys. In their childhood photos, they both play piano, both play pool and baseball, both get to sit at the table with their birthday cake (without highchairs or bindings) and they play on the floor together. It's not entirely divisive between them, though it’s still obvious from which brother she’s slapping across his face and which brother she’s love-bombing which she’d prefer to deal with. Just not which she actually cares for more. Vincent wasn’t somehow spared from abuse in a house like the Sinclair household.

Interestingly, when Bo tells the story of Trudy and Victor, he mentions that once the Doc died, they were alone. Except, there’s at least one version of a prop newspaper stating that Trudy created a wax memorial for Victor. So this is just a false version of events most likely. Sure it could be that a decision changed, but there’s also the fact that, in the guns and ammo store, there’s a sign that says “Trudy’s Town or Wax.” And Bo tells Vincent, “We almost finished what mama started.” She’s also much older than the Trudy we see in the family photos and articles (even with the amount of cigarettes that woman smoked.) Ambrose is confirmed to have been abandoned for a decade, but to be turned into wax, Trudy would’ve had to die sometime between the abandonment of Ambrose and the present. Else she would’ve been properly buried most likely. The plan to fill Ambrose was hers, it’s just Bo that suggests using real humans (according to his apology to Vincent, he takes credit for the idea anyhow.)

Which makes her boys at least in their mid twenties when she died. In an older version of the script, Bo had killed her and Victor, but knowing it would put them all in foster care, that doesn’t quite make sense unless they were older. So the order of events is, Doc dying, the sugar mill closing, Trudy planning to reimagine Ambrose, and then dying herself.

The reason that’s important is because it’s emblematic of just how much pressure she was putting on both of her boys. And that’s not love. With two mentally ill, abused sons, (maybe three, since Lord only knows how they treated Lester once he came along,) that’s just manipulation. Victor and Trudy aren’t cartoon super villains for being bad to their boys. But when you can’t even just rotate a bowl slightly for your half blind little one, it’s shallow. Trudy has her cigarettes right in the boys faces in the opening and in most of the photos. Smoking was in one study linked to about 1/3rd of conjoined pregnancies, and in a similar case of conjoinment to the boys, one of the twins had lost an eye and had a prosthetic, but with minimal scarring because of the surgery being done in an actual legal hospital. It’s not about God taking anything, or about which is a little monsted and which is a very good boy- it’s about Trudy and Victor both messing up from the very beginning and causing the boys losses, then refusing to take accountability for it. Or, in the symbolic sense, to just do the right thing and turn a damn bowl of cheerios towards your blind kid.

[uzurimisery]

the death of an actor. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Y/N Gaul the daughter of Dr. Gaul. Argumentative, independent, and hindrance to Coriolanus Snow's life plans. He can't stand you, you’re impossible for him to read. When your mother concocts a hairbrained plan to better set up her protege you’re caught in the crossfire and forced to play the part of Snow’s lover. Now if only the lines of what's an act and what was real wouldn’t get so blurry.

Rating: explicit

Warnings: Snow is a misogynist, toxic relationships, arranged/fake dating, dubcon, smut (eventual)

Notes: what can i say but that i love toxic fictional men

Chapters:

-One: the setting

-Two: the players

-Three: the exposition

-Four: the bluff

-Five: the call

-Six: the fold

-Seven: the adjustment

-More TBD

Playlist Taglist

©️ uzuzrimisery

[wholelottatransbians]

Funny idea: Midoriya Izuku and Cathleen Bate both, independently, go to the same convention that's hosting an All Might trivia competition where all the prizes are bits of rare All Might merch. What they did not know going in was that it was a team competition, so the two are paired up and absolutely demolish the competition.

They end this without ever finding out that one of them was All Might's protege, and the other was America's Top Hero.

Also possible CathInko if you wiggle it around just right.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

thinking about “i may not see you again” “it’s okay as long as I know you’re happy” as a perfect ending to c!tommy's character not just in the fact we may never see him again but it’s okay if we know he’s happy (bc like, tommyinnit spontaneously starts RPing as him sometimes, he’s an OC Haver who constantly brings up his blorbo to the point I’ve noticed and I literally don’t watch the guy, i highly doubt he'll stop all of a sudden he’s been doing it for years) but also in the sense that like. all of c!tommy's trauma was caused by adults who Did genuinely love and care for him in some fucked up way (be it as a brother, comrade, or protege-in-training) but used that love to control and hurt him and treat him like a shiny possession. c!jack affirming he is still loved and cared for but not pushing those boundaries and trying to Enforce their idea of what’s Best for him onto him is such a beautiful end to that pattern. c!tommy can be loved without being caged. sometimes loving someone is accepting you’ll never see them again and maybe that’s best. sometimes it’s letting them choose on their own terms. c!tommy was allowed such little autonomy bc he was seen as unable to know what would be best for Him. being able to be happy on his own terms is something he’s never really been allowed before. like hell even with clingyduo they’re great but they’re also, y’know, clingy, and that is an unhealthy trauma response. they’re not bad people for having it and they’re clearly doing a lot better by the epilogue, but even c!tommy's most positive relationships have had Issues with independence. the fact the last thing we see of c!tommy is him mentioning that he might not ever see someone again and them accepting it as long as it’s his choice while reaffirming that despite everything they love and care for him and want him to be happy is so cathartic and honestly such a sweet ending for him it makes me tear up to think about. the eternal cycle of toxic friendship he was stuck in for years is finally breaking, and he's able to be an autonomous human being even if it’s not what his friends selfishly think is Best For Him.

[archive-of-wax]

Got thinking about Bo and Trudy while writing an addition to this post.

I might be in the minority here but I actually think in a way, deep down, Trudy preferred Bo over Vincent. Sure, Vincent may have been well behaved, talented at her profession, and easy for Trudy to mold into what she wanted from a son. And yes, Bo's outbursts clearly drove Trudy up the wall, and I can imagine as he grew older they must have had the most legendary bust up arguments that made the house shake and could be heard all through the town.

BUT

If you subscribe to the interpretation that Trudy was a wild artsy party girl before she settled down, then Bo is very much Trudy's son. I can imagine her as Bo grew up, witnessing his charismatic ways, his can't-be-tied-down independence, his ambition ('When he actually puts his mind to something...' she might've said), and yes, even his temper, and knowing that was all her. Two peas in a pod, just butting heads constantly.

Contrast that with Vincent. Even if he was the most polite and respectful child to ever exist, I can't imagine extroverted charismatic ex-socialite Trudy being able to understand or truly connect with her awkward introverted and mute son, whose reclusiveness is exacerbated to the extreme by a severe facial deformity.

It's like when a class graduates high school. It's always the fun misbehaving kids that teachers miss the most. Not the 'pleasure to have in class'. Vincent was easier to parent, but that doesn't mean he was the favourite in any meaningful way.

I feel like Bo and Trudy's dynamic is captured really well in this headcanon (I know the intro is slightly at odds with what I'm saying here but you get me). Trudy sighing in exasperation and doing that 'oh, you' head shake after tearing Bo a new one for whatever reason, deserved or not. Their relationship was volatile, when it got bad it was horrible. But the good moments, though scarce, were really good. They both knew they were difficult people, but it meant they really understood eachother, and it gave them a strong, yet undeniably complicated connection.

I also think Vincent knew, and he fucking hated it.

Bo always believed he was second fiddle. Why wouldn't Vincent have the same good times with their mother? More even? They're always cooped up in that workshop after all, surely they talk like that all the time.

But Trudy's investment in Vincent was led more by guilt and convenience than genuine love. And when Vincent stumbles into the kitchen at 3am to see Bo and Mama having a smoke and an actual genuine conversation, he swears to God Almighty he's never wished he was his brother more in his entire life.

The constant cycle of jealousy and inferiority it must have created in the twins would have been insane. To Bo, he was the black sheep and Vincent the golden child. To Vincent, he was Trudys talented protege, but Bo was her son.

[meuemvoce]

Ainda te procuro porque quero te manter por perto mesmo que você não queira. digo que te amo pra você se lembrar que mesmo que o destino não queira a gente juntos saiba que eu te amei mais que a mim mesma. estou tentando lidar com a verdade que por mais que eu chore, coloque todo o sentimento que carrego e digo pra você a situação não ira mudar, então o jeito de tentar me machucar menos é não dizer mais nada. sei que daqui a algum tempo você irá me esquecer, terá outra no meu lugar e serei apenas uma lembrança, mas pra mim você será o grande amor que não pude viver. ainda continuarei te procurando pela madrugada, passando a mão no lençol frio da cama. ainda continuarei procurando o seu olhar em outras pessoas, ainda ficarei fechando os meus olhos para ver a sua imagem e o seus detalhes que sou tão apaixonada. ainda continuarei revivendo as nossas histórias em minha cabeça, mas você não precisará saber.

Você não precisará saber que te cuido de longe e te desejo por perto pra te proteger das dores do mundo. você não vai precisar saber que existe outra pessoa em seu lugar que ocupar a solidão e o vazio que você deixou depois que me deixou. não preciso dizer pra ti que todas as noites choro pela saudade que me mata por dentro todas as vezes que me lembro que não posso ter você. dormir chorando tem sido uma das piores coisas que tem me acontecido, entro em sono profundo lembrando dos seus olhos que dizem o quanto você se sente perdido por não saber o que fazer com tanto amor que guarda no peito sempre que você me procura. não irei te dizer que ainda sinto vontade de ir até sua porta só olhar pra você e virar as costas. então existem coisas que simplesmente temos que morrer com elas guardadas no peito. existem coisas que não precisamos falar porque a situação não irá mudar, então irei guardar a sete chaves que ainda te espero pra viver uma vida e que independe com quem esteja o seu lugar sempre estará aqui caso você resolva voltar em outra vida.

Elle Alber

[fantastic-nonsense]

Thanks for your reply. And, yeah, I definitely agree that Robin is first and foremost Dick’s legacy, and that he chose Damian as his Robin for important reasons that he expresses to Tim later. And, his blessings to both Jason and Tim previously were also extremely important. But, I was thinking about it more in terms of how the transition was handled. I know that Jason and Dick, despite popular belief, had a decent relationship when he was Robin, but Dick didn’t react well initially because he had been completely blindsided by the news, nor had he given his consent. I thought that Alfred was sort of repeating Bruce’s mistakes here, so Tim might have been blindsided by it as well (not that I think he would’ve given his consent either way at that point). You saying that it was a crisis decision on Alfred’s part puts it in perspective though, and it makes sense since Alfred’s generally more sensitive than Bruce. I do think, though, that seeing Damian in a Robin suit (with Alfred’s blessing) would have probably made Tim realise that there was a real possibility that Damian could be Robin.

[referencing this response on how the transition from Tim to Damian as Robin was handled]

I think two things can be true: Tim would be blindsided and hurt by Dick's decision to make Damian Robin regardless of the circumstances, but it was particularly tough for him given the situation that it occurred in (the issue you're talking about and I mostly discussed in my original response), and it was the obvious decision to make based on where all three of those characters were in their character arcs.

Tim during the BFTC/early Reborn era honestly needs to be viewed in the context of him clearly being ready to take the same steps Dick took at his age to become an independent vigilante but wanting to cling to Robin because it was the only sense of stability he had in an incredibly unstable period of his life. Tim had been operating semi-independently for years and had just spent the entirety of Battle for the Cowl telling Dick that if he wouldn't put on the cowl Tim would do it himself…and then he actually did put on the cowl to go fight Jason. It's not like Tim wasn't signaling that he had moved beyond Robin's role as Batman's non-independent protege.

And Dick could see that, especially since Tim had already been the Robin to his Batman once, back in Prodigal. He genuinely meant it when he called Tim his "equal" in Red Robin #1, and I think that's important to understand where both of them are coming from.

Ultimately Tim's problems with Robin "being taken away from him" were not Dick's problems, and Tim's hostility and hurt comes from a fundamentally different place than Dick's did. Dick voluntarily gave up being Robin to become Nightwing, and the rocky transition from Dick to Jason was less about the mantle and more about Dick's personal insecurity about his place in the family and Bruce giving Jason Robin without his permission. Tim's place in the family was very solid during BftC and his RR #1 freakout was mostly about the perception that Dick was taking away his sole source of mental/life stability and choosing Damian (a potential hostile) over Tim to watch his back and keep him alive.

Dick's issues were about insecurity in the face of a father apparently replacing him with a new son and a new partner in his absence. Tim's issues were about feeling unmoored in the face of yet another loved one dying, his civilian life going up in flames (again) and being pushed out of a tenuous stability back into instability, and the percieved lack of trust in his ability to properly fill the role he was already occupying.

So honestly I think Tim's feelings on that transition need to be viewed as an entirely separate thing from how well or poorly the transition itself was handled, because I genuinely believe that Tim's reaction only was what it canonically was due to the unique intersections of events going on in Tim's personal life. Dick could have (and should have) handled the transition with more delicacy, but Tim was always going to react badly because of how hard he had been leaning on the mask to give him a sense of normalcy and balance. That's not really something Dick or Damian (or Alfred) could control, even though the transition itself was rockier than it could have been on their ends and poorly handled out-of universe.

[bitimdrake]

why do you think tim agreed to be adopted if he doesn’t really see bruce as his father? is there anything parental happening in there??

He does! And he doesn't! And it is and isn't. It's a wonderfully messy thing!

To answer the first question first, there are a lot of reasons for Tim to be adopted no matter what. On the milder side, it's logistically convenient to have a guardian, and specifically to have one that is aware of and endorses his vigilantism.

But more than that, in the time after his dad died, Tim was in a very dark place. One of the things Tim does when in a dark place is self-isolate. He made up this whole fake uncle thing to stop Bruce from adopting him after the first offer, so that he could live completely on his own without being beholden to anyone. And that was bad for him! Self-isolating is bad for Tim!

So in that sense, accepting Bruce's second offer of adoption is a huge symbol that Tim is doing better. He (and Bruce and Dick) had the whole One Year Later cruise around the world to heal and improve, and Tim is less locked in grief now and willing to connect. And he shows this by accepting an offer of adoption from someone who loves him and choosing to live in a house with people he loves too. Hooray!

Because, no matter what, he does care about Bruce. And he cares about Alfred, who he independently had a close relationship with, and about Dick, who'd been calling Tim his little brother for years. (Dick and Alfred being the other members of the family at this point.)

So I don't think it really has to be father/son at all between Bruce and Tim for Tim to agree to be adopted, nor for it to be a good thing.

That said, I also don't think it's entirely not parental. I was being a little silly and flippant in that post, because I do think Bruce and Tim are weird about their vaguely defined relationship.

It is an absolutely key part of that relationship that, for ~4 years, Bruce and Tim were Batman and Robin, and worked closely together, and cared about each other, and were not father and son at all. Because Tim still had his own dad! Of course Bruce wasn't his dad! That would be just weird.

That doesn't mean there's nothing paternal to their relationship in the Robin years. Adult mentor/kid protege, sure there are absolutely angles here.

And it also doesn't mean they never became father and son after the adoption. A lot of this is based on vibes and personal interpretation! There's this story shortly after Tim's adoption where he puts a lot of effort into getting Bruce a perfect father's day gift. They do refer to each other as father/son periodically when talking to others.

My personal read on it is that Tim was very consciously trying to Be A Proper Family after the adoption, and adjust super fast. And I do think that by the point Bruce "dies" (or maybe at that point?), Tim sees him as more of a father.

(Also I think probably Tim is Bruce's son much more than Bruce is Tim's dad. Or at least sooner. Again, vibes.)

But I also don't think they necessarily need to be defined so sharply. They're never going to be like Jason and Bruce, who were father and son right away, or even Dick and Bruce, who were family and ward/guardian right away. They are always going to have known each other as non-family first. Which doesn't mean they aren't going to care about each other.

But I think it should mean they get to be little weirdos about how they do define their relationship when forced to.

[satohqbanana]

Seven Virtues Tag

This is a twist on one of @thecomfywriter's tag games. Why did I do this? Mostly because I wanted to highlight some more positive character traits.

Like with the original one, for this tag, you must assign a character who is fit most for a virtue. The meanings of the virtues overlap, so I took the liberty to describe each one based on my own understanding and used the seven vices as a reference as well. These "opposites" are not necessarily actual opposites of the vices, but are values meant to "combat" them.

I decided to do this for the named characters of Magia so far.

Temperance

Opposite of gluttony. Temperance is the virtue of moderation and self-restraint.

Gracie is the epitome of temperance. She does indeed flirt with boys a lot, but she makes sure to get her school work done before she leaves her dormitory. Even as a mage, while she is personally interested in curiosities, she has someone else buy items for her instead, as she recognizes she isn't really the best judge for things like this.

Kindness

Opposite of envy. Kindness is the virtue of supporting others and being concerned for their well-being.

Despite how mean he can be, Ireus is actually very kind and is doing what he does out of concern for people around him. He is willing to be a little aggressive to discourage others from doing dangerous, inconvenient, or otherwise useless things. (The problem is that he only uses his own judgment for what things are considered dangerous, inconvenient, or otherwise useless.)

Diligence

Opposite of sloth. Diligence is the virtue of hard work.

Des is the one ever hard at work. She may complain, but she will get things done - maybe even by any means necessary. Her drive to earn a lot and be independent as soon as she becomes an adult have caused her to be withdrawn from most others, but when she is in situations where she must work with people, she is the most efficient member of the team.

Charity

Opposite of greed. Charity is the virtue of performing service towards others simply out of love.

Charles is charity! As a cinder rat of the Academy, she has an instinct to love and serve the mortals. She doesn't even mind Gracie's feelings towards her that much. Mind you, she doesn't blindly care for her young mage masters; she makes sure to try and reason out with them whenever they are being ridiculous kids. (How they can communicate with her even though she doesn't speak a word is a thing locked behind Part 5 of Magia.)

Chastity

Opposite of lust. Chastity is the virtue of purity not only in flesh but also in thought and action.

I think Head Mage Jewel would fit chastity the best. She tries her best to not say any bad word about her proteges or her colleagues. It is hard for people to find fault in her, that perhaps it is her understanding towards people's misdeeds that counts as her fatal flaw.

Patience

Opposite of wrath. Patience is the virtue of awareness, persistent understanding, and acceptance of others' flaws and shortcomings.

Patience has to be Professor Verus, who is the last of my Magia characters to be mentioned on this blog. As an old yfe, he has accumulated the wisdom to thoroughly deal with his students and colleagues, and that is patience. He later becomes Des' mentor and his patience is very helpful for his very frustrated student.

Humility

Opposite of pride. Humility is the virtue of upholding one's role with tact, accepting of one's flaws and shortcomings, and being open to others' ideas and opinions.

Yara, surprisingly, is one of humility. She appreciates the everyday she is with the Academy. As both a shapeshifter and an alchemist, she is very aware of what she can bring to the table, but she instead chooses to be a secretary to Head Mage Jewel and a student counselor since she feels herself best for those roles.

For this, I tag @wyked-ao3, @kingragnarok-writes, @bunnymermaidwrites, @paeliae-occasionally, and @spideronthesun. No pressure, though! I just wanna see your OCs.

And if you're not looking to do a tag game, please consider this as a hello!

[monkie-kid-oc-showdown]

Yu Huìxīng (@floatingstarshine)

Age: 1000 (looks 27)

Pronouns: she/her

Born and raised in China after her parents moved there from Hawaii, she grew up in a small house on a mountainside. Her family of pueo (owls) kept to themselves, meaning she was ready for a friend to keep her company. After finding a hurt human and helping them out, the two of them quickly became friends. That friendship was cut in half on her 16th birthday though, when both of her parents were killed by demon hunters, her friend included in the group of hunters. She became used to being independent and on her own until she found herself on FFM, where Sun Wukong took her in and they gradually grew close sibling-wise.

Now, she lives in an apartment in Megapolis and runs her own small jewelry making business.

Yùtù (@starlitskvader)

Name: Yùtù to Wukong, Chang'e, and other contemporaries; Jade Rabbit or simply Jade to everyone else.

Pronouns: They/them

Abilities: Elixir making, super speed, pestle-based combat, brewing a mean coffee or tea

The original Lunar Rabbit, Jade once served as Chang'e's indefatigable personal assistant... until the invention of the Lunar Rabbit Robots saw them labeled as obsolete. Bitter at being replaced after all those years, they hold a grudge against their former mistress - but is generally affable with anyone else, and has become the proprietor and primary barista of Lucky Bunny Tea & Coffee.

An old friend of the Monkey King (their battle in JttW was a huge misunderstanding that was then misunderstood by the chronicler - seriously!), Jade is delighted to meet their long-time pal's new protege and friends, and eager to lend their barista skills or pestle-swinging might to the table as needed. For now, until needed they're content to run their shop and play 'tag' with the King!

(Which consists of playing whack-a-mole with clones until they find the real monkey. Hey, it's all in good fun!)

[longliveblackness]

Gertrude "Ma Rainey" Pridgett is known as the Mother of the Blues and is one of the earliest blues singers as well as one of the first generation of artists to record their work in that genre.

Though Ma Rainey sang quite a lot about men, “Prove It on Me,” according to Angela Y. Davis, “is a cultural precursor to the lesbian cultural movement of the 1970s, which began to crystallize around the performance and recording of lesbian-affirming songs."

Went out last night with a crowd of my friends,

They must've been women, 'cause I don't like no men.

Reportedly, the song refers to a 1925 incident in which Rainey was arrested for hosting an orgy at her home involving women from her chorus. Rainey also was rumored to have had a relationship with Bessie Smith, her protege. An ad for “Prove It on Me” winks at these rumors, showing Rainey mingling with women while wearing a menswear-inspired take on a woman’s suit, under the eye of a cop lurking suspiciously in the shadows.

This is remarkable not only for the openness about lesbian relationships, but the blatant nose-thumbing at law enforcement. For all the new sexual openness of the 1920s, queer sexuality was still taboo and heavily policed- even more so for Black and Brown people, and violence from law enforcement was a constant threat.

Rainey’s legacy is one of defiance, independence, larger-than-life glamor, and iconic artistry, even as her power was limited by the white, male- dominated ruthlessness of the recording industry and the confines of a similarly racist and homophobic America. Despite this, she transformed the role of women in music.

Rainey was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1990 for her early influences on today's music industry.

•••

Gertrude "Ma Rainey" Pridgett es conocida como la Madre del Blues, fue una de las primeras cantantes de blues y forma parte de la primera generación de artistas en grabar su trabajo en este género.

Aunque Ma Rainey solía cantar mucho sobre hombres, “Prove It on Me”, según Angela Y. Davis, “abrió camino cultural al movimiento cultural lésbico de la década de los 70, el cual comenzó a cristalizarse en torno a la interpretación y grabación de canciones lésbico-afirmativas.”

Salí anoche con una multitud de mis amigos,

Deben haber sido mujeres, porque no me gustan los hombres.

Según se informa, la canción se refiere a un incidente de 1925 en el que Rainey fue arrestada por organizar una orgía en su casa, en la cual estaban participando mujeres de su coro. También se rumoreaba que Rainey había tenido una relación con Bessie Smith, su discípula. Un anuncio comercial de “Prove It on Me” hace un guiño a estos rumores y muestra a Rainey fraternizando con mujeres mientras usa una versión masculina de un traje de mujer, bajo la mirada de un policía que le está acechando sospechosamente desde las sombras.

Esto es destacable y no sólo por la franqueza sobre las relaciones lésbicas, sino también por la obvia crítica a las autoridades. A pesar de toda la nueva transparencia sexual de la década de 1920, la homosexualidad todavía era un tabú y estaba fuertemente vigilada (aún más para las personas negras y de color), y la violencia por parte de las fuerzas policiales era una amenaza constante.

El legado de Rainey es uno de desafío, independencia, glamour descomunal y arte icónico, incluso cuando su poder estaba limitado por la crueldad de los hombres blancos de la industria discográfica y los confines de un país (Estados Unidos) igualmente racista y homofóbico. A pesar de ello, transformó el rol de la mujer en la industria musical.

Rainey fue incluida póstumamente en el Salón de la Fama del Rock and Roll en 1990 por sus influencias en la industria musical actual.

[zahri-melitor]

Sorting through old issues and I came across this conversational parallel I’d forgotten:

"Last time I checked, Batman and Alfred were good with cars." "I don't want to go running to him for advice every ten minutes." "What's with you guys? You have to make everything so difficult. He views you as an equal. Get over it." "He was just down here in Blüdhaven to --" "He's concerned about you. Though it would kill him to say it. Just like it kills you to ask for help."

Nightwing #16 (1996)

Does it sound a little familiar? Because I had to line it up with...

"I don't call this 'okay', Dick." "He's my responsibility now. You're not my protege, Tim... you're my equal. My closest ally. You'll be okay. But him...Tim, you know better than anyone that left on his own, he's going to kill someone. Again. You have to understand--" "No. I don't. This is all I have now."

Red Robin #1 (2009)

Dick, in his extreme independence "I'm a big boy now, Bruce, I have my own city" mode, is kicking and disbelieving that Bruce thinks of him and treats him as an equal, even though Barbara can see it. And Barbara notes how hard it is for Dick to ask for help.

While Tim, clutching at the only remaining stability in his life, disbelieves Dick telling him that Dick sees Tim as an equal, and desperately reaches out and asks for help here...only to be turned down by Dick.

*bawls*

[abbatoirablaze]

Welcome To The Dollhouse, Lloyd's Angel

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings:  mentions of edging, implied multiple partners, daddy kink, implied mfm, mentions of cannibalism.

“Welcome to the doll house, sunshine!” Lloyd grinned widely.  He held his arms open as though it was some sort of grand gesture to his spoiled protege.  A few of the women giggled as they walked by, being sure to look over their shoulder at Lloyd. 

The man in his late thirties had a glimmer in his eye as he showed his newest partner the benefits of being an independent contractor on the dark side of the world for some of the most nefarious men. 

“What the hell is this?” Ransom asked curiously as he stepped forward.  Lloyd clapped the New England man on the shoulder and squeezed it excitedly.

“This is the best pussy in the world is what it is,” he chuckled, “and they’re only available to us, you hear?  So don’t go inviting your little party-boy friends to this place…you have to be a member.”

“You mean…”

“We’re active contractors, Drysdale…active and high-class,” Lloyd smirked as he looked around the room for someone in particular, “we aren’t your average hit men…”

“No shit…”

“Lemme show you around,” he chuckled, leading the slightly younger man further into first main room past the entryway, “see if you find anything that makes you wanna get your dick wet.  At least until I find my girl…then you’re on your own.”

“Your girl?” Ransom scoffed, “calling a high-class whore ‘your girl,’ is a bit pa-“

Before Ransom could finish his sentence, Lloyd turned, and slammed him up against the wall and held him by his neck.  His eyes were wild as he glared at his protégé.  Ransom could feel the weak plasterboard wanting to give behind his back, “don’t you go talking about my sweet little thing…I may be showing you the ropes, but I’ll hang you from one if you eve-“

“Daddy…”

Lloyd froze, hearing the scared voice of his Angel. 

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, more to himself as he pushed himself away from Ransom.  Lloyd took a moment for himself, smoothing out his shirt and taking a deep breath, and Ransom noted how the darkness seemed to fade away from him all at once before he turned towards the voice, “Angel…sweetheart…what are you doing out of your room?  You’re supposed to be studying!”

“I got excited,” she admitted as she bit her lip.  Ransom smoothed out his clothes and stepped forward until he was nearly beside Hansen.  The man who was only a few years older than him shot him a glare out of his peripherals, causing him to stop short.  But he could see the woman well enough.  She had to be in her late twenties and was wearing a schoolgirl outfit where the shirt was nearly see-through, and the skirt that looked like it would expose her if she sneezed.  Ransom found himself eyeing her up and down, his eyes trailing down her tanned, tone thighs to where the garter belt stopped, “daddy did you bring a friend for me to play with?”

Ransom’s eyes shot up back to hers before he shot Hansen a look.  He noticed Lloyd’s jaw twitching, a clear indication that he’d had no intention of sharing the woman before them, “he’s new to the Doll House, Angel…I figured we’d let him have a go at one of the girls while daddy shows you how much he’s missed you…”

“But I wanna play with both of you, daddy…” she whimpered, batting her thick lashes at both men.  A shockwave ran through Ransom’s spine and sent a pulse straight to his cock.  The woman reached out her hands and took one of Lloyd’s and one of his.  He shot Lloyd another look, and he caught the fact that while Lloyd didn’t look back at him, his mustache twitched, “it’s been so long since you’ve been back…I need so much attention.”

Lloyd stood up a little straighter, slightly irritated by the insinuation that she needed more than just him, “gonna be a brat for daddy?  You know what that gets you, Angel…”

“Daddy,” she whimpered yet again, giving him the sweetest doe eyes that she could manage.  Lloyd dropped her hand and out of instinct she dropped Ransom’s, her full attention going back to Lloyd, “daddy…don’t be mean…”

“Mean,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes at her, “you think I’m being mean?  You’re the one acting like my cock isn’t enough to fill that tight little cunt and stretch her to her limits…and in front of everyone…I was hoping you’d be my good little angel and find daddy’s friend a playmate…not try to snatch him up for yourself like a greedy little whore!”

The woman paled and her eyes glittered. 

Ransom felt his stomach turning as the woman before him looked like she was going to cry. 

“Lloy-“

She went to turn to run away from him, but Lloyd grabbed her arm and spun her around until her back was flush against his chest.  Ransom looked around, curious to see if anyone was paying attention to the conflict in the room, but the girls all seemed preoccupied with other men or one another.  It was like the scene playing out in front of him was something that they attributed to as being normal.

“You’re not being a very good girl, Angel…you’re acting more like an ungrateful little slut,” Lloyd whispered against her ear.  She shivered and Lloyd smiled, “you’re going to be a good little girl and go to your room…I’ll give you what you want because I’m a reasonable man…and when it comes down to it, daddy loves you, Angel, and you know that…but I better not hear you crying about me being the mean one…or you’ll get an extra punishment after he’s had a go at you and it’s just the two of us.”

He released her without a second thought, and she was quick to run in the direction of the stairs and up to what Ransom assumed was her room.  He swallowed nervously as he looked at Lloyd, “What in the hell was that?”

“My girl wants to play with both of us,” he said simply.  His eyes scanned the room, and it was obvious to Ransom that Lloyd was upset by the situation, “and while I don’t usually let her play with others, because I don’t play well with others, today is actually her birthday.  And-“

“It’s her birthday?”

“That’s why we made the stop here,” he said as though it were obvious, “this was well out of our way, Drysdale.  Figured I’d make a little stop off here and wish her a good night, then stuff her full of me, and be out of here, sipping a latte while we board the jet to the next job.”

“So, you just…what…you’re going to fuck her then walk away?” Ransom asked, curious about their situationship, “What about when you’re not here?”

“I pay for her room,” he shrugged, “no one else touches my Angel without my saying so.  And I pay for her to go school when I’m not around, so she’s got something to do…my baby may look like a dumb little slut, but she’s got an engineering degree and she’s working on her master’s in chemistry…when I finish what I need to, my angel is going to come work for me…but until then, I know she’s safe.”

“And she doesn’t care?”

Lloyd chuckled, rolling his eyes at the playboy as he led him up the steps and towards her room, “of course she cares.  Last time I came by she nagged me about taking her home…said she missed me.  That was four months ago.”

“Four months?”

Lloyd shrugged once more, “stayed for four days…one for each month I was gone.  Made her write pages on pages saying that she was a brat who needed her daddy to keep her in line all the while I had her warm my cock.  Held a wand to her pretty little cunt and told her if she soaked my boxers, she wasn’t going to be able to walk by the time I left.  Edged her for hours like that.   She was shaking while she wrote.  God it was amazing…”

“Jesus…”

“What?” Lloyd chuckled, “that’s nothing compared to what some of the others do…there’s this guy, Kemp…bought Angel’s younger sister and another woman.  Looks at Angel’s sister like the purest goddess you can imagine, but he edges the hell out of her.  I actually got that idea from him.”

“He’s got two girls?”

“Eats the one bit by bit, but yeah,” Lloyd shrugged, not wanting to talk about the weird situation with the cannibal, “he’s got two girls, but it should really count as one and three quarters by now.”

Ransom’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, “He eats her?”

“Still not the weirdest thing that’s happened around here,” he shrugged, “got all kinds of guys here. Don’t worry about the cannibal though…that’s a consensual thing.  The girl was jealous that Kemp is in love with Angel’s little sister and offered herself up to him…and well, there are some guys around here that are into the whole missing body parts thing, so she makes a comfortable living off it, and decides when he gets to have his little feasts…she gets her own little sense of control from it, so don’t go feeling bad for her.”

“What the actual hell?” Ransom asked, the disgust seeping from his tone. 

“Rule one,” Lloyd said as he stopped in front of a door, “don’t judge what the others do.  This is the Doll House…and exclusive community of some of the most dangerous men on the face of the planet.  And these girls don’t get out, so they like to talk.  You don’t want to have any issues if you don’t have to, so don’t confide in a girl unless she’s your endgame, got it?”

“Yeah…sure…”

“Rule two,” Lloyd began once more, “Angel really is my girl…you ever come here without me and touch her, I will kill you…no questions asked.  Is that understood?”

“Is there a rule three?”

“Yeah…don’t go after Angel’s little sister,” Lloyd said clearly, “last guy that did was a super soldier and the cannibal took his arm and ate it.  And he liked the guy…he’s fucking crazy.”

“The guy that eats people or the guy missing his arm?”

“Both!” Lloyd huffed, “we may be some dark guys, but we’ve got a system.  Stay in your lane and don’t play with a doll that doesn’t belong to you and you should be fine…and don’t worry about trying to sort it out.  The girls will tell you if they belong to someone.  Usually if they’re in the main rooms though and not a bedroom, they’re game.”

“W-why did you bring me here, Lloyd?”

Lloyd smiled as he clapped the younger man on the shoulder, “It’s because you’re my protégé, Drysdale, you’re a member.  So welcome to the Doll House.”