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#sorry i didn't do a very good job helping you narrow down which song to listen to first
blackveilblasphemy · 2 years
Note
hi again tumblr user @blackveilblasphemy :)))
I sent u an anon a while ago but once again I feel compelled to tell u I just love seeing u on my dash bc we’ve been mutuals for a while and it’s nice to see your face
so quick question for u!!! If I wanted to check out Black Veil Brides or Andy Biersack music, where’s a good place to start?? do you have a favorite album or maybe top 5 or 10 songs to recommend? I’m not familiar with them at all but I see how passionate u are about them so I want to check them out!!!
have a great day and xoxo!!
hi anon <3
i love having mutuals, i have to wonder which one you are! personally i also like to send messages anonymously because i'm shy. it's one of my favorite features of tumblr. then i can tell people i love them and they won't know it's me. of course, it's harder to make friends this way ...hmmph.
*i ended up writing a lot (as per usual) so i added a read more!*
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i'm honored you decided to follow me even though you don't listen to bvb! while i love their music, i started running this blog as a place to collect and share photos. blogging is kinda therapeutic and calming to me.
*
i don't know what the theme of your blog is (if you have a theme), but if i follow you, i probably reblog onto one of my side blogs! over the years, I have gained a lot of other interests, and the number of side blogs for this account has been increasing. i also follow a lot of blogs! i think it's close to the max amount, because sometimes i have to go on an unfollowing spree and unfollow the inactive accounts in order to follow more blogs.
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if you're looking to start listening to bvb, i think you could check out a song or two from every album, and see for yourself which album you might want like. i think every bvb album has a distinct sound, and each has fans who says that album is their favorite.
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i'll often just listen to bvb's whole discography all the way through because the songs often flow into one another, so i like to listen to them in order. they tell a story! this is especially true with the wretched and divine album. however the songs or albums are also good individually, so you can listen to them on their own too.
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if i had to pick my favorite albums, in order i would say:
1 we stitch these wounds
2 wretched and divine
3 set the world on fire
4 vale
5 phantom tomorrow
6 black veil brides
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I think these are the most popular bvb songs:
in the end
knives and pens
fallen angels
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my favorite songs from we stitch these wounds:
perfect weapon
sweet blasphemy
carolyn
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my favorite songs from the set the world on fire album:
set the world on fire
rebel love song
saviour
the legacy
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my favorite songs from the wretched and divine album:
wretched and divine
nobody's hero
devil's choir
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my favorite songs from the black veil brides (self titled) album:
drag me to the grave
world of sacrifice
crown of thorns
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my favorite songs from the vale album:
vale (this is where it ends)
dead man walking (overture ii)
wake up
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my favorite songs from the phantom tomorrow album:
blackbird
fall eternal
fields of bone
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songs from eps i would also recommend:
from the never give in ep:
we stitch these wounds (original version)
the gunsling
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from the rebels ep:
rebel yell (billy idol cover)
coffin
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andy black music:
my favs from the shadow side album:
ribcage
paint it black
the void
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
Text
DIWK - Chapter four: "Hurt"
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Words count: 13,7K
The gif is mine ✨
Warnings: Hardcore Spencer trauma. Mention of drug abuse,  torture, Criminal Minds usual case triggers. Spoilers of Season 2 E14/15 Criminal Minds.
Summary: An unsub abducts Spencer, and reader blames JJ for it.
A/N: Have you ever wished you were there to save Spencer from Tobias Hankel? I know I have. I know reader wants to... I'm dying to know what you'll think of this chapter! Sorry if it's a little too graphic, writing Spencer's POV of this episode was really hard.
Series Masterlist
Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |
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(Y/N)'s point of view
I remember the day Emily Prentiss arrived. We had a case in Saint Louis. Two serial killers, 'cos it couldn't just be one asshole making everyone miserable. And on top of all, Hotch was confused and upset 'cos he never signed Emily's transfer to the BAU. It was like someone was trying to force her into the team, and we all thought it was weird.
We left the bullpen off to the case and left Prentiss in the office, not knowing if she actually got the job or not. I know Elle and I weren't incredibly close, but it still felt weird to think someone might join the team and try to replace her. It didn't work that way in that job. It didn't feel right at the moment.
There is something I also distinctly remember about that day: Gideon talked to me. And not only that, but he actually trusted my knowledge. We hadn't been on the best terms for a few months, so that approach meant a lot to me.
We were at the police station. Reid and I had been analyzing the letters one of the killers had sent to a journalist to find something that might help us catch him before there were any more victims. That's when JJ and Jason walked in, and he asked about our progress.
- "He only sent this to an individual, which shows he is not confident enough to initiate contact with the masses."- Spencer explained as he projected an image of the letter on the wall.
- "Emotional indicators are analyzed through slants, and you can see the shooter maintains vertical, narrow letter writing, and both are signs of repression"- I said and pointed at the image on the wall- "And the pressure, if you look closely, it's excessively heavy, which shows that he's uptight and can easily overreact."
Gideon looked at me and nodded. It was my cue to keep on talking. For once in a long time, I was feeling approved by him.
- "You got all that from his handwriting?"- JJ asked me, surprised. Reid looked at me from the other side of the room, and I could feel his smile reflecting how proud he was of me.
- "Graphology is an effective and reliable indicator of personality and behavior."
- "But my writing is always different,"- she added, and I nodded. I was waiting for that comment.
- "Yes, because it represents your emotions at the moment, just like your facial expressions parallel the way you are feeling while you are speaking."
- "What else can we know about our unsub from this?"- Gideon asked me.
- "Well, our killer uses simple statements, all first person, like "I won't be ignored," which means he's obviously tired of feeling this way. He may have a job in solitude or one that he feels strips of his identity. His work might require him to wear a uniform, something that shows absolutely no individuality, or he may be overqualified for his menial job and feels that he doesn't get the respect that he necessarily deserves."
I made a pause and waited for his words. I was giving my best, and I swear I was still hoping I could ever get Jason Gideon's blessing.
- "I think we are ready to give a profile,"- he said and nodded.
And damn, that felt good.
When we were back in Quantico, Hotch had a long and clearly awkward conversation with the section chief, Erin Strauss. She was scary. She was clearly trying to get rid of Hotch, questioning his work daily, decisions, and how he managed the team. Why? I have no idea.
It felt she forced him to accept Prentiss into the team. We were one man down after Elle left. Ok, one awesome woman down, so we definitely needed some help. And Emily was a great addition from day one.
We clicked right away. Prentiss was funny, smart, but most of all, she constantly had to prove she deserved to be there. Just like me. Gideon gave her the cold shoulder from day one, and that I could relate. The only difference was that she won him over in a few days, though. I was still trying to win that battle.
Garcia decided we needed a girl's night, and she hosted the first of many "BAU Girl Power get together." Basically, it was us at Penelope's place drinking and talking.
That first night, we updated Prentiss with everything that had happened with Elle. She wanted to know everything about us, what we did, how long we've been on the team, and how we all got along. It was sweet and fresh. After that year in the BAU, I had already learned to enjoy the sweet things in life. Like getting drunk with my work girlfriends.
- "So, does Hotch ever smile?"- Emily asked, and we all laughed at the very same time. Yes, it was getting late, and we weren't as sober as we should have been.
- "He does! he does!"- JJ assured us- "You should see him with his baby."
- "He is a dad?"- Emily was shocked. I was surprised too when I found out Aaron was married and with a baby. The amount of time he spends at work always made me feel he had zero personal life.
- "And has a beautiful wife"- JJ added- "He is always laughing when he is with her and baby Jack."
- "I guess this job can drain the happiness from your day... "- I thought out loud, but before anyone could say anything about my dark and bitter comment, my cell phone rang.
- "Hey honey bunny, everything ok?"- I stood up and walked to the kitchen. I didn't want to interrupt the girl's conversations.
- "Yes, I just wanted to make sure you were drinking enough water between drinks"- I laughed and shook my head. Only Reid could call to say such a thing. He was the sweetest friend on earth.
- "Yes, I am, don't worry. I'm not going to be hungover or drunk tomorrow. I know you are excited about the new exposition."
- "You are gonna love it!"
- "I am sure I will"- and I wasn't kidding. I loved when he dragged me to the Smithsonian or any museum for some nerdy fun.
- "Have fun with the girls."
- "What are you doing, by the way?"
- "Just reading a little, you left your complete Sherlock Holmes collection here, so I'll be solving mysteries while you get drunk."
- "Don't have too much fun without me"- he chuckled and ended the call. I smiled and walked back to the girls looking at me with a funny grin on their faces.
- "Was that your boyfriend?"- Penelope asked me, and I frowned right away.
- "No, it was Reid. He just wanted to confirm we are going to the museum tomorrow."
- "Wait"- Prentiss narrowed her brows and looked at us confused- "Reid ain't your boyfriend?"
JJ and Garcia's laughter was epical, as well as my frown. They nearly gasped for air while Prentiss and I waited until they calmed down.
- "No"- I finally answered- "Reid is not my boyfriend."
- "He is more than that; he is her work husband,"- Penelope clarified, and I turned to her with my mouth wide open, shocked.
- "What the fuck? Reid ain't my work husband. He is my best friend!!"
- "Yes, and you happen to call your best friend "honey bunny," right?"- JJ questioned, just like she had a few months before when we were alone in our room away on a case.
- "Reid is my best friend, and yes, I call all my close friends by weird pet names. You will get one too if you are lucky."
- "But I thought"- Emily continued- "I mean, he looks at you like you are his sun."
- "No, Prentiss, the only coupe in this team is the one between "chocolate thunder" and "baby girl" right here"- I pointed at Garcia, and she just blushed and covered her face.
- "My love for Derek will burn forever with the intensity of a thousand suns. I mean, have you seen that man? he was made by the gods and sent to earth just to give my existence some sense"- we all laughed at those cheesy words, though Pen was serious about them.
- "But, have you ever...?- JJ looked at her and made a pause. We were all looking at every single facial movement or behavior she might show to read her body language."
- "My relationship with my loverman could never be tainted by something as mundane as sex."
- "Like you wouldn't lick honey from that six-pack and ride that thunder."
The words just left my lips, and I blame the buzz. BAU (Y/N) would have never said that. Drunk (Y/N) would, totally.
The girls laughed until tears fell from their eyes, and I just chuckled, honestly happy to make them laugh. I had been more of the real me than I had ever actually been around them in nearly a year.
- "Hello?"- my phone rang again when I was walking out of the bathroom. And this time, it was Paul.
- "Hey babe, what are you doing?"
- "Hey, I'm..."- I looked at the girls in front of me and sighed- "I'm stuck with paperwork"- and they turned to me immediately. I could read the "What the fuck" on their faces.
- "Well, I'm at Rob's in case you feel like dropping by. We are writing a few songs."
- "I'll text you if I finish with this early, but... have fun."
- "Ok, bye"- I hung up and sighed.
- "And that was..."- Prentiss asked, frowning.
- "My boyfriend,"- I explained and grabbed another beer
- "Sure, I could feel the passion,"- Garcia joked, but I just didn't think it was funny.
I knew my relationship with Paul wasn't alright. Actually, things with Paul weren't. Period. We were done, it was apparent, but still, neither of us had said it. That relationship was just a few phone calls every once in a while, only to make small talks. When we were together, we would just watch a movie, eat something, drink a few beers, and that was it. It had been a long time since we had sex or even made out. I don't know why I didn't end it sooner. I guess I was just afraid to do it.
But I let more months pass before I actually did something.
Spencer's point of view
I'm not proud of what happened that year after Prentiss joined the team. I think that year changed me profoundly, and a part of me never fully recovered afterward.
Maybe it had to be that way, and it was something I had to go through to grow up. I guess I'm still trying to make some sense of all the misery I put my friends through. Mostly (Y/N). She was in hell with me.
A few weeks after New Year, we started working on a case. Someone was killing wealthy people in their own homes. At first, we thought there were two unsubs, 'cos one of them called 911 after killing, and you could hear them struggling and arguing. But no, it was just one.
Tobias Hankel was a delusional serial killer. He had split personalities, not two but actually three. His father, the one who tortured me. The archangel Raphael, who was trying to make God's will, killing people. And himself, who wanted to save me, but instead, he nearly destroyed me.
What do I remember about the day he kidnapped me? I remember I was stupid enough to try to catch an unsub alone, just to prove I could take care of myself on the field. Hotch sent me and JJ to talk to Hankel at his house, 'cos apparently, he might have seen the unsub months earlier. But no, he was the unsub, and neither JJ nor me could stop him.
We hid in a barn, and I was so eager to prove I could catch him; I told JJ we had to split up to cover the place. I was counting on Hotch to get there with the team sooner than they did, and before I realized it, I was in the middle of a cornfield, and Hankel was pointing at me with my own gun.
I was sure I was going to die right there. All of Hankel's personalities were struggling inside of him. I couldn't stop thinking about why I thought I could do it on my own? Why had I been a reckless asshole? Was it because I wanted to prove I was an excellent SAA? Because I wanted to impress JJ? Maybe I tried to convince myself I could do the same job my team did. I knew I wasn't the most physical person, but I had a gun. I had been trained to capture killers.
Yes, I was an asshole that day, and I've regretted everything that happened that night many, many times in the following years.
When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, and the archangel Raphael had taken Hankel's mind completely. The room was dark, and it smelled awful. He was burning fish hearts and livers, 'cos he believed it kept the devil away.
I was confused and lost. My head was spinning, and my heart was about to burst into my chest. I knew I could die any second now. Raphael wasn't the one to show mercy. That's what I had learned from all the videos Hankel had uploaded to the web. He had shared with the world every murder they had committed to show the other sinners what was going to happen to them.
- "They believe you can see inside men's minds"- Raphael looked at me with dark eyes, implying he meant Tobias and his father
- "It's not true. I study human behavior."- my voice was shaking. I knew I had never been more scared in my entire life. He took out a gun and showed me one bullet.
- "Do you know what this is? It's God's will."
Things didn't look good for me. He put it in the cylinder of the revolver and spun it. He was going to let my life to luck.
- "You don't have to do this"- I tried to talk him out of it, though I knew it wasn't going to work.
- "No go, sinners, to your God."
And he pressed the trigger.
What went through my mind the seconds that passed between having the gun pointed to my face and realizing I had lived? My mom. All I could think of was how my mom would react to the news of my death. I could never bear to hurt her like that. I couldn't die. I couldn't leave her alone.
I sighed, relieved, and bit my lips not to cry. Raphael looked at me with a blank expression and walked out of the room. I had survived for now.
I struggled with my handcuff, but it was useless. My head was killing me. I could feel the open wound on my head, still dripping blood on my temple and head. I tried to focus on the pain for a few minutes, just to make sure I was awake. It was a nightmare, and keeping myself sane and conscious under those circumstances was nearly impossible.
How was I going to get out of there alive? Did the team know where I was? I had no idea where I had been taken. I had been unconscious the whole way. It was dark, and I couldn't see much around me. I wasn't afraid of that darkness. I was more fearful of the man that left me alone, 'cos he was armed and mentally unstable. Darkness had nothing on him.
I had to focus on the things that kept me sane. The things that made me want to get out of that room alive.
- "My name is Spencer Walter Reid. I'm twenty-five years old, my mother's name is Diana Reid, I was born in Las Vegas, October 28th, 1981."
I closed my eyes and tried to think of all the things that made me happy.
- "I work at the BAU, my best friend's name is (Y/N), and she sits at the desk in front of me. Derek Morgan is the closest I've got to an older brother."
He was. He still is. You have to be close to dead to start seeing things clearly sometimes. Derek was my brother. He treated me like a kid, but a kid brother. He was always teasing me, trying to teach me how to pick up girls, trying to drag me to the gym with him. Derek was a good friend, we were very different, and I knew if we had been classmates in high school, we would probably never have talked. He was a jock, and I was a nerd. But life had brought us together. And now I couldn't think of a better friend than him.
I tried to focus on my happiest memories. My birthday came to mind. The guys had planned a Halloween-themed birthday party at the conference room of the BAU. Of course, Garcia baked a cake and (Y/N) helped her decorate it. It was incredible, 'cos it was covered with tiny gourds and skulls.
- "Frank and Mikey sent you these,"- she announced after everybody had given me their presents. I wide opened my eyes in shock 'cos I had no idea her friends knew it was my birthday or even cared about it.
- "Why?"- I had to ask.
- "'Cos they think you are amazing. They actually wanted to come over to your house and have a few beers tonight."- I opened my mouth to say something, but Derek interrupted me.
- "Pretty boy is gonna get to work hungover again."
- "Shut up"- (Y/N) and I said at the same time, making everybody chuckle. I opened the present her friends had sent me and laughed right away.
- "Lucky Doc"- I read and took out of the bag a Sports Illustrated issue with Lila Archer on the cover. My cheeks turned red immediately.
- "Frank still hasn't overcome that story. I think he will hate you forever"- (Y/N) laughed (along with the rest of the team) and gave me another present.
- "They also sent you this. They said you were going to like the man in black"- it was a Johnny Cash's vinyl- "Frank picked it. He thinks he is some sort of musical psychic that can read people's taste in music."
- "We should get together and have a few beers one of these days. I need to thank them for these."
Gideon looked at me in silence as soon as I said those words. But I didn't care if he disapproved. I was going to be (Y/N)'s friend, whether he liked it or not.
He is the closest I've had to a dad in the latest years. He cares about me, and he tries to make the best of me that he can. Yes, he can be too apprehensive. I think that's a way to put it. But only because he wants me to be the best profiler I can be.
I never thought I would end up working at the BAU. I never thought I would love the job I do as much as I do. Back when I was in college, I thought I would dedicate my life to finding a cure for schizophrenia, but I ended up hunting serial killers across the country.
And though I was about to die, I didn't regret any of the decisions that led me there.
The morning found me shaking, cold, and scared. I was in a small cabin in the woods. Just like the worst and more cliché horror movie ever made. This was my own horror movie.
- "What are you staring at, boy?"- Tobias opened the front door carrying logs for the fire. His voice had changed yet again, so I knew it wasn't the same person I had talked to the night before.
- "You are not Raphael."- I whispered, looking at every movement he did.
- "Do I look like Raphael?"- had I insulted him? I couldn't tell. He turned to the fire, and I took a deep breath, doing my best to stay calm.
- "Thank you for burning those, for keeping us safe."- I said, looking at the fish hearts and livers he was preparing to put on the fire.
- "Don't try to trick me."
- "I would never try to trick you."
- "You are a liar."
- I'm not a liar."- it was hard to stay calm and not start screaming for help or mercy, but I knew that was going to take me nowhere with him.
- "Lying is a sin."
- "I'm not a liar."- he walked closer to me, and sat right in front of me, held my leg up, and grabbed my foot.
- "This will be over quickly if you just confess your sins."
- "I am not a sinner"- I whispered again. He took off my shoe.
- "We are all sinners."- it didn't look good for me, not at all, and I knew I had to talk to him with his words with his beliefs to save my life.
- "The Lord spake unto Moses saying "Speak unto all the congregation of the children of the lord" and say unto them, ye shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy."
Hankel, this time in the personality of his father, looked at me surprised. I might have done something right, 'cos he stopped moving, and for a second, I thought it was going to be ok.
- "You know Leviticus."
- "I know every word of the bible. I can recite it for you."- but his eyes turned dark again.
- "The devil knows how to read too."
- "I'm not a devil, I'm not a devil2- I repeated, and couldn't stop shaking, 'cos my life on the hands of a sociopath.
- "I'm a man, my name is Spencer Reid, and I have a mother, and I have a father just like you, and they taught me the bible, let me recite the bible."
My voice cracked at the knowledge of what he was going to do. He stood up, still holding my foot. He was going to torture me, he was going to try to break me, and I had to be strong. I didn't know how I would find the strength, but I had to be strong.
- "Time to confess, Spencer Reid"- and without further notice, he slapped a log against my foot, making me scream in pain. It hurt from the tip of my toes until the back of my skull. I hadn't felt that kind of pain, and it was worse knowing he was just getting started. Tears started falling down my cheeks in no time.
- "Confess!"
- "I don't have anything to confess."- I whimpered and closed my eyes, 'cos I knew he was going to continue his torture. And so he did. The pain was excruciating. I was sure I was going to pass out
I tried to go to a happy place in my head, somewhere when I could hide from all that pain. It was too hard, though. It hurt too much. I kept repeating over and over again I wasn't a sinner, begging Hankel for mercy, as he shouted I had to confess.
I made an effort to think about what he might want me to say. What did he want me to confess? Which sins was he talking about? But nothing came to my mind, nothing but the pain and the fear of dying.
(Y/N)'s point of view
The second we reached Hankel's cabin, I started looking for Spencer. I had a horrible feeling about it. Morgan and I headed it to a barn with Prentiss. There was no sign of anyone. It was dark and quiet. Never a good sign.
- "Shit!"- I whispered, staring at three dead dogs and a bath of blood in front of me. There laid the body of another victim that was missing from Hankel's last attack.
- "FBI!!"- JJ shouted suddenly. She was pointing his gun to us, clearly in shock- "Don't move!!"
- "JJ, it's Morgan, (Y/L/N), and Prentiss! Don't shoot"- Derek tried to calm her down, walking towards her- "Are you hurt?"- she lowered the gun and stared at us. You could read the fear and the trauma in her eyes.
- "Tobias Hankel is the unsub,"- she whispered as Prentiss rubbed her arm sweetly, trying to comfort her.
- "Yeah, we know"- I moved towards her too and put my gun back into the holster.
- "And we thought he was just a witness"- we looked around, and JJ pointed at the dead dogs.
- "JJ, where is Reid?"- Derek asked her, but she just continued talking.
- "They completely tore her apart"
- "JJ, look at me,"- I said and held her arm carefully- "Look at me, where's Reid?"- she was shaking, and her voice was cracking. I knew she was making her best effort to pull herself together.
- "We split up. He said he was going to go in the back."
And there it was. That was the reason why I had a bad feeling all along. Derek looked at me and nodded as we read each other's minds. The two of us turned around and ran outside, leaving JJ with Prentiss, waiting for the medical team and ambulance to check on her wounds.
Gideon and Hotch were inside the cabin, looking for Hankel, but there was no one there. And there was no sign of Reid behind the barn either, in the cornfield, or anywhere in the perimeter. Reid was nowhere to be found, and I started losing it little by little. I tried to repeat myself the words Hotch had said many times during my year in the BAU: "when you are out there with the team; your mind has to be one hundred percent on the case." But the case had never included my best friend missing before.
- "Hey, is there any sign of him yet?- I asked the police chief as I reached the ambulance. He was there talking with JJ, making sure she was ok.
- "We got every one of our units on the road. He won't make it far"- I nodded and watched him walk away. I knew he thought I was talking about Hankel, but I actually meant Reid.
I turned to JJ and moved a little closer to her. Her eyes open wide, staring back at me.
- "You can't find Reid?"- I just shook my head and tried to sound as casual as I could, not to freak her out. She was still in shock. I didn't want to make it worse.
- "Not yet"
- "(Y/N)"- Derek held my arm and forced me to walk away from the ambulance.- "Reid followed him into the cornfield. It looks like somebody got dragged."
My heart stopped. Did the psychopath hurt Spencer? Did he kill him? Did he torture him? Was he hurt? Was he alive? Where was he? Derek looked at me, and I nodded. I bit my lips and took a deep breath. Hotch's words were my mantra now: "your mind has to be one hundred percent on the case."
- "Are you sure?"- we turned to the police's chief, overhearing his conversation- "We are on our way now."
- "What's going on?"
- "The sheriff down two towns over, he just gave directions to a man who fit Hankel's descriptions. It's to a motor lodge in fort bend."
- "Let's get Hotch and Gideon"- Derek held my arm and walked with me to the cabin. We had to find Reid, and we had to do it fast.
That was the worst night of my life. The first worst night of my life, to be sincere. I didn't close an eye. I went through every paper, every note, every detail in that cabin, trying to find a clue that could lead us to where Tobias had taken Reid.
I felt someone had ripped my heart from my chest. I had to think straight, and to do it, I had to keep a cold head. But as the hours passed, it became a more demanding and more challenging task to complete. I knew the whole team was suffering, but that didn't ease my pain. And I knew JJ felt guilty, but that didn't stop me from blaming her in my mind. She left him alone. I would have never left Spencer alone on the field.
- "(Y/N), you should try to get some rest."
Derek whispered as he sat on the floor next to me, where I had been sitting for the last half hour, reading Tobias's old diaries. Nothing but fear of his father, mentions of Dilaudid use, and bible transcriptions.
- "I'm ok,"- I answered and didn't even take my eyes from the pages.
- "(Y/N), I mean it"
- "I'm not going to rest if he is out there in the hands of a psychopath, Derek"- I had to bite my lips and shut the fuck up, 'cos if I said one more word, I knew I was going to burst into tears.
Morgan just wrapped an arm around my shoulders and moved me closer to him. That was the first time I let him hug me, and it felt good to know I wasn't alone in my desperation. I knew he loved Reid like a brother, and neither of us was going to stop until we found him.
- "Welcome to our nightmare"- JJ's voice broke the silence we had been into for the last hour when Hotch walked into the cabin with Penelope.
It was morning already. There were still no signs of Reid. Prentiss, Gideon, JJ, and I had been sitting at the table, reading everything we could.
- "His computer is an extension of his brain. I need you to dissect it,"- Gideon whispered to García. You could feel the concern in his voice. She just nodded in shock and turned to Derek, who held her hand and helped her get set up in the computer room.
- "So, nothing new since I left?"- Hotch asked and looked at us. I just shook my head and continued reading.
- "Well, the good thing is the guy documented practically every second of his life"- Prentiss words took me from the pages I was reading. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The concept of "good" was poorly used in that phrase.
- "The bad news is, we are still un-piling,"- she added and sighed.
- "From the looks of it, he hasn't left this place in years,"- JJ managed to say. She made her best effort to be useful, but she was in worse shape than everybody else. Yet, that didn't make me feel bad for her. I was mad at her and kept making my best to put it aside, 'cos my head had to be in the case.
- "He knew he could pretend to be looking for a motel and throw us off his trail,"- Emily inferred, but I shook my head as soon as I heard her.
- "No, no, no, it's more than that!"- I shook my head and took a deep breath- "Sheriff's office, 911 calls, every time he engages the police and gets away with it... he reassures himself, God's on his side. Not ours."- I added.
Gideon nodded, and we shared a moment of agreement. He was as worried as I was. I could feel it. I'm not saying the rest of the team wasn't, I'm saying Jason was as fucked up as I was, and I could sense he was having the same trouble I had making sure my head and not my sentiments were into the case.
But if anything happened to Reid, I didn't know what I was capable of doing.
At a certain point, I got sick of reading and not doing anything and decided to look around the house again if we had missed anything. Derek went along. One part of me felt he wanted to stay away from JJ too. Maybe he was as mad as I was about her leaving Reid alone. I know I couldn't blame her, but I did it anyway.
- "Guys!! I think I've got something!"- Derek yelled, and I ran over. He opened a door that led to a basement. I walked right behind him, pointing my gun and my flashlight all over. But there was no sign of Reid.
- "Tobias Hankel!!"- Morgan shouted. Someone was sitting in what looked to be a gigantic freezer- "Tobias!"- but we didn't get any response. I took a step closer and examined carefully.
- "Morgan, I think we just found Hankel's father."
Spencer's point of view
On my second night in that cabin, I met Tobias. The third personality of Hankel walked into the room, carrying what seemed to be a dead deer. He looked as frightened as I was.
- "You need to eat."
- "What's your name?"
- "Tobias."
- "Tobias, who was here before?"
- "Probably my father."
He looked at me up and down, and he immediately understood what he had done to me. It was scary how he could dissociate. Someone with multiple personality disorder is usually unaware of the other personality states and memories when an alter is dominant. In this case, Tobias knew the other personalities but considered them different persons. He didn't think they were all in his head.
- "I'm sorry if he hurt you."
He looked at me like he understood everything I had been going through. Maybe he had been through something similar when his father was alive. Perhaps he had been a victim of Hankel as well, and that's what triggered his psychopathic nature.
He walked over and took out his belt.
- "What are you doing?"- he wrapped it around my arm, and I started begging him to stop.
- "It helps"- he took out of his pocket a needle and a small bottle of what seemed to be some kind of drug.
- "Don't tell my father. He doesn't know they are here."
- "Please, I don't want it, I don't want it, please"- I cried and begged.
- "It helps. I know"- it was the last thing Tobias said before the needle found my vein.
And he was right. It helped. Every single amount of pain I was feeling disappeared. My brain shut down. Somehow, everything was ok. I never had in my entire life felt so good before.
My mind kept flashing memories of when I was a kid. I kept seeing images of the day my father left and how he called my mother crazy.
- "You are weak"- mom spit those words after he refused to take me with him. I know she said it not because she didn't want me with her, but because mom knew she was sick and wanted the best for me. And he refused.
- "I'm not weak."- I whispered as I looked at her smiling back at me.
- "I know, honey."
I don't know how long I was drugged, but when I woke up, Tobias wasn't there with me anymore. It was his father.
And the torture continued.
(Y/N)'s point of view
Gideon was trying to convince me to go out with Prentiss and JJ to see a Narcotics anonymous's contact that might give us more information about Tobias. Emily had found some flyers about it in his room, and it could be the only lead we had to find him and Reid.
- "You need to get out of this house for a while"- he whispered and tapped on my back.
I knew he wasn't the one to be loving or physical with people, less with me. But that moved me. I turned to him and my eyes watered up. I was scared, and I couldn't hide it anymore. The more hours passed, the fewer the chances were to find Spencer safe. Alive.
I felt his arms around me suddenly, holding me tight, trying to keep the pieces of me together. We were alone on the porch, and though I didn't want to fall apart, I couldn't hold it anymore.
Jason didn't say a word. He just hugged me and let me cry for a few minutes. I didn't say anything either. I actually couldn't because I was overwhelmed with everything.
- "Are you ready, (Y/N)?"
Prentiss whispered as she walked over with JJ. I turned my back at them for a second to hide the tears that kept falling down my cheeks. I knew it was a shitty thing to do, 'cos it was obvious I had been sobbing, but they gave me the courtesy of not saying anything.
- "You go, I need (Y/N)'s assistance with some diary entries"- the two of them walked away quietly, and thankfully, didn't argue with Gideon.
- "Thank you,"- I whispered and felt his hand on my shoulder one more time.
- "You are doing a fantastic job,"- he said and turned around.
I wish I could tell you that made me feel better, but instead, I just thought I had the duty to bring my friend back home safe.
It had been at least an hour since the girls left. Morgan, Hotch, Gideon, and the police chief were in the living room with me, reading. I sipped my hundredth cup of coffee and re-read the same diary entry for the third time.
- "There's something weird going on here."- I thought out loud and walked towards Gideon
- "You think?"- the police chief turned to me and raised an eyebrow, ironically.
- "No, seriously, check this out. This journal is filled with religious ramblings. He notated hour by hour: "November 15th, 3:17, if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the Lord, ye shall offer it at your own will", and it goes on and on: 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42."
I made a short pause and looked at Gideon and Hotch. They didn't get where I was going.
- "But then, it goes blank for days."
- "Maybe he got sick of writing"- I seriously hated that police chief.
- "I think I got it"- Hotch whispered- "Journal entry: "December 6th. Father is sick. He wants me to put him down. I say thou shalt not kill. He said, honor thy father. Must pray for guidance."
- "So he kills his father as an act of mercy?"- Gideon asked, knowing the answer.
- "This is two months ago. Tobias Hankel's father had been dead for four months already."
- "That's exactly it"- I murmured, thinking Tobias Hankel was way more fucked up than we thought.
- "Look at the floor"- Derek pointed at a chair and moved it- "These scuffs marks are fresh. It's like two people were pushing the chairs constantly, trying to fight for control."
- "So?"- I swear to God, that chief was driving me insane.
- "This journal matches Charles Hankel's handwriting, but it was written after he died"- I explained. Still, it felt he wasn't following me.
- "What do you mean?"
- "Upstairs, Tobias' bedroom got junk piled from floor to ceiling, but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection."
- "So, are you telling me one of Tobias' personalities was his father?"
Apparently, I had to draw a picture so the chief would get it. Fortunately, Gideon continued explaining the whole problem before I lost what was left of my patience.
- "Well, Tobias was raised with a strict religious code, black and white, right and wrong. When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give."
- "His brain couldn't handle the moral contradiction, so he split into two personalities to keep his father alive."
Hotch tried to put it most easy and simple words possible.
- "So, who is Raphael?"
- "My guess, he is a mediator between the two"- Gideon nodded at my words and sighed.
- "Angels have no human emotions, live or die. They don't care, as long it's God's will."
- "We need to start profiling Tobias' father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid."
Finally, I felt we were going somewhere.
When Emily and JJ came back, they gave us the news. Tobias was addicted to Dilaudid, which explained the fracture in his mind, and how he lived with three distinct personalities.
The police chief announced a computer store robbery, giving us some hopes that Tobias would use them to track him down.
- "Guys!! Guys!! get in here!!- I heard Derek shouting and I ran to the computer room. I felt sick in the stomach in less than a second. There he was, Spencer. My Spencer Walter Reid, tied to a chair, bleeding, shoeless. Clearly tortured.
- "He's been beating,"- I whispered, feeling my eyes water up. I would have given anything to be there instead of him.
- "Can you track him?!"- JJ yelled by my side, and I nearly smacked her. That's how sensitive I was feeling.
- "Hankel's only streaming this to his home computer."- Garcia whispered. And my heart dropped with those words.
That wasn't what I was supposed to hear. We were supposed to find him and bring him back safe.
- "This is for us"- Gideon didn't take his eyes from the screen- "He knows we are here."
- "I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick"- Morgan was so mad I believed him. I wanted to do the same, if worse.
- "I'm gonna kill him myself as soon as we find him,"- I said and felt Aaron's hand on my shoulder as he asked Garcia
- "Why can't you locate him?"
- "He's rerouting to a different IP address every 30 seconds. I can't track him."
It knew it had to be hard if Penelope couldn't find her, but that didn't help. If anything, it made everything worse. I felt powerless. Hankel couldn't be more intelligent than us.
Spencer's point of view
- "Are you ready, boy?"- Hankel pulled my hair and forced me to look at him. I was still as high as fuck, but knew I was about to be tortured again.
- "Ready for what?"
- "My weakling son thinks God gave you to him for a reason"- if the reason was to get me into drugs, then the answer was yes.
Hankel placed a video camera in front of me.
- "Can you really see inside men's minds?"- he asked me and made a pause, pointing to three screens- See these vermin?
It took me a second to realize he was showing me images of real people. He had put cameras in those people's houses. How? When? What kind of sick game did he want me to play with him?
- "Choose one to die. I let you choose one to live."
- "No"- I didn't even think about my answer.
- "I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior."
- "You are a sadist and a psychotic break. You won't stop killing. Your word is not true."
I don't know if it was because of the drugs or because I hadn't eaten or drank any water in too long, but I was somehow resigned and tired of fighting.
- "The other heathens are watching- Hankel announced and pointed at the camera in front of me."
My eyes fixated on the camera right away. My team was watching me. (Y/N) was watching me. I didn't want to make her worry even more. I needed her to know I was ok. I know I wasn't, but I didn't want her to worry about me.
- "Choose a sinner to die, and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved"- Hankel was sick. It was all a game, and religion was just an excuse to kill.
- "I won't get to choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher."
Hankel didn't like my answer, 'cos he grabbed me and pulled me up, looking into my eyes, insulted, annoyed, losing his temper.
- "Can you really see into my mind, boy?"
He was honestly scary, and it petrified me to think he could execute me right there, in front of the team, and I could never tell them how much they mean.
- "Can you see I'm not a liar?!"- he insisted. I nearly whimpered but made my best not to break- "Choose one to die and save a life. Otherwise, they are all dead."
He dropped me on the chair and turned around. It was clear he wasn't joking. I took a deep breath and nodded.
- "Alright, I'll choose who lives."
- "They are all the same"
My eyes traveled across all the monitors. It was nearly impossible to pick one person to live, knowing all the other people there would die. Hankel was sick, and I had to set a plan to escape because otherwise, I would end up dead.
- "Far right screen,"- I whispered. He turned around and nodded.
Then, he recited the name and address of the woman on the screen. I prayed for the team to find her before Hankel came after her too.
No. It wasn't Hankel this time.
- "Raphael,"- I whispered, and he nodded. I looked at the screen again. The woman we were watching picked up the phone. She was in her kitchen. He walked around, frowned, and turned to her computer. In a second, she had turned it off. My team had reached her. She was safe, I hoped.
Hankel turned the camera off and looked at me.
- "You've done your part. Now it's my turn."
I knew what that meant. It wasn't good.
He left the cabin, and all I could see were the monitors in front of me. Those people were going to die. They were going to die because I didn't pick them. I killed them. You don't need to pull a trigger to kill someone. I could never forget those words. And this time, they meant more than anytime before. I didn't press a trigger, but I had killed two innocent people. And I actually had to watch them die.
When I saw Rapahel walk into the victims' house, I tried to close my eyes and think of anything else. A part of me kept thinking he wasn't going to kill them. He just wanted to threaten me.
But not. Raphael slaughtered them.
I found myself craving whatever it was that Tobias had given me the night before. The drug in my veins had given me a kind of peace I had never felt. And I never thought I'd have either. The type of peace that can be addictive, 'cos it turns your head off. And God knows, sometimes I needed to turn my head off.
Remembering everything that has ever happened to me, especially all the awful things, wasn't a gift. It was a burden. And whatever it was that Tobias had put in my veins, it had taken that burden from my shoulders, at least for a couple of hours.
Who wouldn't want some more of that peace?
- "Reid!"- Gideon's voice took me from my thoughts. He was sitting right in front of the camera in the victim's house. He was there with Hotch and the police, investigating the crime scene.
- "If you are watching this, you are not responsible for this. You understand me? he is perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He can not break you."
I know he meant it. But I couldn't believe any of that, not after watching a family get slaughter just because I didn't pick them.
(Y/N)'s point of view
- "I thought you were going to try and get some rest,"- I said as JJ walked to me in silence. I made myself my hundredth cup of coffee, and she just showed up next to me, trying to engage in conversation, I guess.
- "Everybody else is working. I should be too."
- "We can handle it,"- I whispered and refused to look at her. I swear I was trying not to hate her, but it was getting harder and harder with every hour that passed without finding Reid.
- "It's funny, I keep thinking the one thing we need to crack this case is... well... Reid"- she chuckled, nervously and I just looked at her and nodded. I didn't even smile. I didn't move a muscle.
I didn't want to be with her, or anyone, as a matter of fact. And I wasn't going to hide it anymore. So I tried to walk away.
- "You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don't you?"
I stopped walking and looked at her. You could tell she was having a hard time facing the whole situation, and most of all, you could tell she felt guilty.
That really didn't stop me from being mad at her. I was trying to be the better woman during the investigation, but the uncertainty was getting on my nerves.
- "JJ, go get some rest,"- I tried to answer calmly, but I knew I was looking at her like she was dead to me.
- "I can tell that's what you are thinking, so..."
- "I just wanna get Spencer home safe."
- "But... if I had his back like I was supposed to do, he'd be here now"- and that was enough.
- "JJ, what the fuck do you want from me?"
- "I just...."- she was about to cry, you could tell- "I want someone to tell me the truth."
- "You want the truth? Ok, there you go: I would have never left him alone. None of this would have happened if I had been the one with him out there! 'cos I would never let anyone or anything hurt him!!"
I shouted. All the anger I had been feeling those days was finally getting off my chest. And fuck, it felt good.
- "You fucked it up, JJ, and if something happens to Spencer, I am never going to forgive you, never!"
JJ bit her lips, trying her best not to cry. But I still couldn't feel sorry for her.
- "Is that the truth you were looking for?"
- "(Y/L/N)?"- Hotch stood next to me with the most annoyed look in his eyes.
I knew I was out of line, but this wasn't about work anymore. This was personal. This was Reid we were talking about, and JJ had fucked it up. There was nothing to discuss.
- "What? You sent him with her, now she is here, and he isn't. What else is there to say?"
- "(Y/N)!"- Hotch followed me as I stormed out of the kitchen and out of the cabin- "(Y/N)! stop!"
- "What?!"- and I simply snapped- "Are you gonna suspend me for telling her the truth? Are you going to fire me for losing my shit while working a case!? Fine! I don't care! I don't give a fuck! All I care about right now is that my best friend is missing, and a fucking psychopath has him! That's all I can think of. That's all I've been thinking about for the last two days!"
I was yelling at Hotch. I was yelling at my unit chief. I was fucked. I knew he was going to fire me after that. But I couldn't help it. I was going insane. Tears kept falling from my eyes as I held my cup of coffee tight, holding onto it with my life.
- "(Y/N), we are all worried about Reid."
- "I know you are all worried. I am too, and I'm also afraid and mad and going fucking insane knowing I am standing here not knowing what to do to save him."
- "That doesn't give you the right to treat JJ like this is her fault"- I don't know if he was talking like my unit chief or like a father figure trying to end a fight between two of his kids.
- "Did she stay with Reid?"- I simply replied and looked at Hotch in the eyes- "Did she?"
- "She is not the only one who feels guilty, so do I. And I know I won't forgive myself if anything happens to Reid."
Hotch made a pause and tried to find a way to say what he wanted to say. The door opened, and Gideon walked to us. He knew what was going on, and he didn't say a thing. I was sure he had already heard everything. We weren't actually arguing quietly.
- "We are not getting any closer,"- Aaron finally said.
- "Reid is brilliant. He'll figure out how to survive"- Gideon's words were way more hopeful than my thoughts. In my mind, Reid was too scared to think of a way to escape.
- "You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain. But I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."
Hotch whispered, and his words were filled with regret. I was filled with anger and anxiety, and I know the two of them felt the same. But they way better at handling their feelings.
- "Lead by example,"- Jason answered, probably trying to make him feel better.
- "What kind of example is that?"- I simply replied, and both of them stayed in silence.
I don't think my words helped Hotch, but I wasn't trying to do that either. I was just honest. And Hotch's emotional assistance was shit on the field. Even Gideon was better.
- "He'll make it,"- Jason reassured us and nodded- "Now stop arguing and go back to work."
Spencer's point of view
I was glad when Tobias came to me that night with a needle in his hand and put the drug into my vein. I needed some release after watching a family die 'cos I didn't save them.
- "I'm sorry I had to leave"- he excused himself, preparing the drug next to me.
- "You can leave again, and you can take me with you,"- I begged in a soft voice.
- "My father would be angry,"- he replied and didn't even look at me. This time, I didn't even argue when he wrapped the belt around my arm. I was even a little eager he'd do it faster.
- "Not if he can't find us."
- "He always finds me."
- "If you tell me where we are, my friends will come, and they'll save us."
He gave me a look, mixed with horror and resignation. It broke my heart to think for a moment of all the horrors that lead Tobias to be as sick as he was.
- "We can't be saved,"- he simply replied.
- "We can, we can, I promise. If you tell me where we are, I'll save us both."
- "Listen to me. It's not worth fighting."
Somehow, I understood why he said that. I was afraid and shaking but still did my best not to think of all the pain I was in, of the terror that haunted me day and night.
- "Tell me it doesn't make it better- he said and showed me the needle."
I couldn't say no, 'cos he was right. It did. The drugs made his horrible situation bearable. I could understand why someone decided to use something to avoid the pain. I had faced all and each one of the pain and horrors in my life sober. It was time life was a little bit sweeter, in a sick way.
I remembered being twelve. Mom had had one of her episodes the day before, she was in bed, and I woke her up. I walked into her room and opened the curtains. It was already five in the afternoon, and she still refused to get out of bed.
- "The doctor says you need to get out of bed,"- I argued when she repeated she was just resting.
- "I've been reading"
- "He says you need exercise"- she sighed and tried to make a joke.
- "That's because his idea of good literature is Our bodies, ourselves."
- "Well, he is your doctor."
- "He is a neanderthal"- I gave up and started walking out of the room. She just laid in bed and looked at me.
- "Where are you going?"
- "I'm going to see if Jeff wants to play"- Jeff was our next-door neighbor and my only friend growing up.
- "Come here. Let me read to you."
I know Garcia made fun of me when I said my mother used to read me Valentine's sonnets when I was a kid. Most people think I have a weird relationship with mom, but they don't understand what it was like growing up with her. They don't know what it was like for a twelve-year-old boy to finish high school, facing bullies. Handling the pressure of being a kid genius and the fact I had to take care of a schizophrenic mother.
How come I didn't start using drugs earlier?
I remember that afternoon I sat next to my mother, and she made me pick one of the many books she had with her on the bed. I choose Proust. I knew she loved it. I loved it as well.
"For a long time, I used to go to bed early. Sometimes, when I had put out my candle, my eyes would close so quickly that I had not even time to say, "I'm going to sleep."
I can still hear her voice, reading to me. Both of us avoided reality for a while, hiding in the books. I always do it regardless. I hide in the books to forget. I hide in knowledge to avoid acknowledging the real personal issues I have. I hide in my work saving people when no one ever saved me.
I work catching psychopaths when I know I might actually have a mental issue myself. I might end up just like mom, and it frightens me so much; there are many nights I can't even close an eye. If I get sick too, then no one will take care of her. I am the only one in her life. And she is the only one in mine.
She and (Y/N), but there is no way my best friend would ever take care of me if I got sick. Not because she wouldn't want to do it, but because I would never let her. I don't want to be a burden in her life. And she would hate me, I know. And I could never live in a world where (Y/N) hates me. Not then, not now.
(Y/N). She is the best thing that happened to me in the BAU. Yes, I had a family with my team, but she was different. She was my life. She was the reason why I smiled. She was the one person that made me feel I was important to someone. I knew the rest of my friend loved me, but I loved her.
That was it. I loved (Y/N). And I was scared I was never going to see her again.
(Y/N)'s point of view
I was standing next to Penelope. She kept trying to force me to eat. She knew I was living on coffee, but I just couldn't swallow anything. She held my hand as the two of us stared at the screens, hopefully waiting for Hankel to make contact again.
- "Any more signs of Reid?"- JJ walked over to us slowly and looked at me, afraid I might snap on her again. I just shook my head and sighed, doing my best to be nice to her.
- "He just posted the last murder online."
- "It had over 17 thousand hits in the first twenty minutes,"- Penelope added, and her voice was so full of revulsion. It was clear she couldn't handle the horror in the human mind.
- "I want to see it,"- JJ said, and I frowned, confused.
- "No, you don't,"- Garcia answered and looked at me- "Come on, munchkin, just eat one cookie, please."
- "Don't tell me what I want and don't want!"- JJ's tone shocked us both. She was severe and angry. She was rude at Penelope, and for a second, I almost snapped again.
- "If I can't watch this..."- JJ whispered and glued her eyes on the screen- "I have no business being in the field."
She looked at me when she was done talking, and for once during those awful days, I felt some kind of compassion for her. She had to be feeling like shit, no doubt, and no matter how mad I was at her, she was still my friend, and I didn't want her to suffer either.
- "JJ, it's not a competition,"- I tried to say in the softest voice possible.
- "I... I need to see it."
- "If you stop being affected by things, you lose parts of yourself, you know."
It was somehow ironic that I was the one saying those things. Me of all people in that team. Me, the one who was afraid the most of losing herself in work.
- "Show me"- she finally looked at Garcia, ignoring my words, and Penelope pleased her. She pushed play and simply said
- "I won't watch this with you."
García held my hand, walking me out of the room, leaving JJ alone in the room. She sighed and wiped the tears that started falling down her eyes.
- "I don't know how you do it either"- she whispered- "I don't know how you watch those things every day and don't go insane."
- "If it makes you feel better, I don't know how I do either, and it scared me to think my heart might be numbing with each case we solve. With every psychopath we catch."
- "We are gonna find him"- she assured me and held my hands tight- "We are bringing him home safe, I swear."
- "Let's go find Gideon,"- I said, nodding at her words- "He needs to know Tobias posted the last murder."
Jason was mad, beyond furious. He was losing it. Derek and Prentiss kept trying to crack Hankel and discover where he had taken Reid. Meanwhile, Garcia, Gideon, and I made our best to take the video of the murder from the web.
- "I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain. I could send out a mass warning that the video is actually a virus,"- Garcia said and started typing as fast as possible. I just stared at the screen, waiting for something, anything to happen.
But I wasn't waiting for what came next.
- "Confess your sins"- Hankel's voice made me jump, and the sight of Reid, still tied to that chair, bleeding, and being tortured, broke my heart again.
- "Confess!!"- that sick psychopath shouted and hit him.
- "I haven't done anything,"- Spencer sobbed, but it was useless. Hankel kept punching him, over and over again, even when my best friend begged for mercy.
I felt Jason hold my hand as I was holding Garcia's. The three of us felt powerless, useless, angry, and scared, all at the same time. I couldn't bear to watch Reid being tortured, but at the same time, I was so glad he was still alive.
That until Hankel beat him so hard, he pushed him back in the chair, and Reid started convulsing.
- "He is killing him,"- Penelope cried, and I closed my eyes, biting my lips. Spencer was choking, and that mother fucker just stood there, watching him die.
- "That's the devil vacating your body"- he spit those words as Reid simply passed out. I didn't know if he was dead. I didn't know if he was going to make it. Shit! I didn't know anything.
I let go of Jason and Penelope and stormed out of the room. I was unprofessional, and I knew it, but I knew I would quit if anything happened to Reid. I wasn't going to stay working at the BAU if Spencer died.
- "Are you ok?"- Derek grabbed my arm. I just broke into tears and held him tight. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry.
- "He's dying! We can't find him!!"- I sobbed against his chest.
- "(Y/N)! (Y/N)!"- I heard Penelope yelling as we all rushed back to the computer room. Hankel was giving CPR to Reid, trying to bring him back to life.
- "Come on, come on, please,"- I begged as I watched him pushing his chest over and over again until Spencer woke up, gasping for air.
- "Thank God!"- Hotch sighed and rubbed his hands against his face. The whole team let out a breath of relief simultaneously, and I kept watching Reid. His opened eyes gave me hope.
- "Wait,"- Prentiss said suddenly- "When was the video of the last murder posted?"
- "Nine thirty"- Penelope answered
- "And when was the time of death?"
- "The 911 call came in at 9:04, and the murder must have been moments later."- Hotch added and didn't even turn to look at Prentiss. We were all still shocked looking at the screen.
- "That's just a 19 minutes difference,"- I said and turned to García- "How long would it take to post that file?"
- "Two or three minutes."
- "Let's call it two,"- I said, getting excited- "You figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area. That means Hankel has to be within a 17-mile radius of the crime scene."
For a second, I felt I was rambling facts just like Reid would. It made me miss him even more.
- "García, can we see it on the map?"- Aaron whispered. He was clearly affected, and it also made me feel selfish, knowing I had made a tantrum with the whole team, forgetting they were suffering as well.
- "Call chief Farraday"- Jason commanded as soon as we saw the map of the area on the screen- "I want that area locked down like it's martial law."
JJ stood up and grabbed her phone but didn't make the call. García warned us something was going on with Reid and all of us stared at the screen in silence.
Spencer was on his back on the floor, still tied to a chair. It was clear he wasn't fully conscious of what was happening.
- "You came back to life,"- mother fucker Hankel said, spitting the words in anger.
- "Raphael,"- Reid whispered, recognizing one of his personalities.
- "There can be only one of two reasons."
- "I was given CPR,"- my friend whispered, but it was clear that wasn't one of the psycho's options.
- "There are no accidents. How many members of our team are watching us right now?"
- "Seven."
- "The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail, and they were thrown to the earth."
- "He thinks it's the revelations"- Hotch explained- "The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death."
I didn't know much about religion, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he didn't believe we were the good guys.
- "Tell me who you serve."
- "I serve you,"- Reid answered right away. His voice was a whisper. He had to be exhausted.
- "Then choose one to die"
- "What?!"
- "Your team members, choose one to die"- I knew what he was going to answer at that, and I didn't want to hear it.
- "Kill me,"- he replied immediately, and I closed my eyes, unable to watch what would happen next.
- "You said you weren't one of them."
- "I lied."
- "Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies."
- "No"- Penelope gasped, and Prentiss cursed. I opened my eyes and nearly fainted. Hankel had a gun pointed against Reid's forehead.
The silence amongst the team was unbearable. Neither of us knew what to do. We were all panicking, praying, desperate.
- "Choose and prove you'll do God's will."
- "No."
Neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed until Hakel pulled the trigger, and no bullet came out. I nearly sigh, but it wasn't over.
- "Choose"- he repeated
- "I won't do it"- Hankel didn't even wait. He just pulled the trigger, and we all jumped at the same time. He was safe again.
- "Life is a choice."
- "No,"- Reid repeated once again. And Hankel pulled the trigger for the third time.
- "Choose"- and for the first time, Spencer made a pause. Was going to pick one of us to die?
- "I choose"- the whispered- "Aaron Hotchner."
Derek and I looked at him, and his pale face didn't move a muscle.
- "He's the classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4 "Let him not deceive himself, and trust in emptiness, vanity falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense."
Hotch stormed out of the room as Hankel pulled the trigger one more time and shot the wall.
I felt I was going to puke. If Reid hadn't picked one of us, he would be dead.
- "For God's will,"- the mother fuck said, as he put another bullet in the gun after removing the casing.
I couldn't look anymore. I followed Gideon and Derek to find Aaron going through all Tobias's diaries on the table.
- "I'm not a narcissist,"- he said as soon as he saw us.
- "Come on. Look, you can't think anything from that"- Jason tried to calm him down, in case he was somehow affected by what Reid had just said on camera- "He is not in his right mind, Hotch."
- "No, stop, stop. Alright, everybody, right now: what's my worst quality?"
He had to be kidding. We all stared at him, muted, lost in that conversation. What was his point? Neither of us said a word. We just looked at each other, confused and awkward.
- "Ok, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."
- "You are a bully,"- JJ added.
- "You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,"- I said, and he nodded.
- "Right."
- "You don't trust women as much as men"- you could feel it in Prentiss's voice. That one was personal.
- "Ok, good. I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team because I don't, ever. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that. He also quoted Genesis chapter 23, verse 4. Read it."
Hotch gave me the book. He wasn't even breathing as she spoke. He was in a hurry. We were all.
- "I'm a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead of my sight."
- "He wouldn't get it wrong unless it were on purpose."
- "He is in a cemetery."- I said and looked at him. He nodded, and I swear to God, I saw a slight smile on his lips. That smile was hope. We were getting closer.
Spencer's point of view
I took a sip of water. I hadn't drunk in days, and my throat burned. I was still a little lost, still a little off.
- "Tobias, is that you?"- I saw him nod, sitting next to me. He moved the cup of water closer so that I could drink some more.
- "Thank you,"- I whispered and looked at him- You saved my life- he stared down at the ground and finally whispered
- "I'm sorry."
- "Why?"
- "He'll win in the end."
It was sad to see Tobias Hankel's good person locked inside a sick mind that also held a psychopath like his father.
- "Tobias, I need to know something. It's important. Are we in a cemetery?"- and he nodded. I smiled at him and sighed, relieved. Help was coming. My team was coming.
- "I used to come here to get high."
- "I was right."
- "No one bothers you here. I never told anyone about it."
He wrapped his belt around my arm, and I turned to him, still smiling. I didn't know if I were happy I was right or glad I would get high again. Maybe both. Maybe the second 'cos the minute that needle got to my vein, that sweet, sweet release felt like a bath of joy that washed away any pain, regret, or guilt I could have ever felt.
Guilt. I've had my share of that. I remember the day I had my mom admitted to the hospital. She hadn't eaten in days. She wouldn't take care of herself, and they're just so much I could do. I wasn't able to keep her safe from herself, from her mind.
- "What are these men doing here?"- she asked me as I walked with two nurses into the study. She was writing and reading. It was all she did, preparing lectures for classes she didn't have to give, in imaginary campuses.
I stood in front of her and hesitated for a second. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, telling mom I was taking her away from her own house.
- "They are from the hospital. They are here to help,"- I whispered and looked at my mother's confused expression. She was so thin. She looked so sick. I felt so guilty I couldn't do better for her.
- "I don't need help, and you can't be here without permission, tell them, Spencer."
She looked down at her books again and tried to continue writing. I took a deep breath, I knew I would break her heart, but there was nothing else I could do.
- "I called them"- she looked at me in pain. Deep, honest pain. Like I had just shattered her heart. Which I had done.
- "Spencer"- she simply whispered and stared into my eyes, begging for an explanation. I was trying my best not to cry. I had a whole speech prepared. I was going to tell her how much I loved her. I was going to explain to her how good it was for her to be in a place where someone could continuously take care of her. I had facts and statistics, but all I managed to say was:
- "I'm doing this for you."
And I felt like a liar. 'Cos, there was a part of me that was doing it for myself too.
- "This isn't legal"- she shook her head in shock and kept trying to find a good explanation to what was going on.
- "Your son is eighteen, ma'am. He can act in your welfare,"- one of the make nurses explained to her.
- "You need help,"- I said and prayed she could understand. But she just burst into tears and begged.
- "I wanna stay here!"
- "I'm... sorry, mom."
- "Please, these are my things, this is my life..."
Those men took her. They took her from her house and put her in a hospital. No. I put her there. I put my mom in a hospital so I could live my life, 'cos I am selfish and couldn't take care of her anymore.
- "Spencer, please, don't do this to me."
Those were the words that haunted me day and night. And my mother's crying face, begging me not to take her from her own house.
What kind of a son am I? I did that to her. I put her in a mental place 'cos I couldn't deal with her disease anymore. 'Cos I didn't know how to take care of her.
- "What are you sorry for, boy?"- I heard Hankel ask when I woke up. I was muttering, "Sorry" as I came back from my trip.
- "I sent her away."
- "Who."
- "My mom. I couldn't help her."
- "Is that a confession?"- I nodded and looked around, confused. Lost. High- "You know the bible. Exodus 21:17"
- "And he that curseth his father or his mother shall surely be put to death,"- I whispered, scared and full of regret.
I heard him walk towards me. He kneeled and uncuffed me. I didn't know what was happening. Honestly, I was still too high to get what was going on around me.
- "Grab a shovel,"- he commanded and walked outside.
I was too weak to dig fast. I don't know how I was actually moving, but I was digging my own grave. I never thought I would ever end up doing such a thing. It's not something you think about, actually. Not unless you work in the BAU. Here, you start analyzing and considering the way you'll die: 'Cos you could, every day.
- "I ought to bury you alive in there, give you some time to think about what you've done,"- Hankel said and looked at me while I worked, playing with a knife.
- "I know what I've done."
- "Don't talk back to me! Dig!"
I pant and kept moving, very slowly, trying to buy myself some time too. I was sure the team was coming to get me any minute now. I was counting on them, though the more I thought about it, the less worthy of salvation I felt. Maybe I deserved to die after all.
I was almost certain I had seen some lights moving in the back. Flashlights. But it could be my mind playing tricks on me. I was too tired. And still too high, too.
- "Dig faster!"- he commanded me as I moved, losing my breath.
- "I'm not strong enough"- I cried, 'cos I felt like that. Like a failure, a child that aimed to be a grown-up and failed miserably. A bad son. The worst agent. A fake that deserved to die.
- "You are all weak!! Get out of there!"
Hankel took off his coat and left it on the ground. I slowly moved so he could dig for me, but the lights in the back took my attention, and he noticed. As soon as he turned around, I quickly grabbed his coat and reached out for the gun.
- "You've only got one bullet, son,"- he said as he looked at me. And I just pulled the trigger.
I shot him. I killed him. Hankel. Raphael. Tobias. I freed Tobias. Or at least, that is what I wanted to think.
- "Reid!!"- I heard (Y/N) yelling as I crawled to Tobia's body. He was still awake. He was himself.
- "You killed him"- he said, and he was relieved- "Do you think I'll get to see my mom again?"
- "I'm sorry,"- I whispered, and he was gone.
- "Reid!!"
(Y/N) yelled and ran over. She kneeled next to me and held me in her arms. I couldn't move, because for a few seconds, I couldn't believe she was real. She was there.
- "Honey, honey, are you ok? Can you hear me?"- she said, and tears started falling from her eyes- "Honey, it's me."
I just looked at her and hugged her. I hugged her as my life depended on it. There she was, next to me, finally.
- "I thought I was never going to see you again,"- I whispered and sobbed.
The urge to kiss her filled my whole body. I needed to taste her. I needed to show her how much I had needed her those days. But I knew I couldn't.
I didn't want to let her go. I didn't for a few minutes. I just hold onto her for my sanity. She kissed my forehead, cupping my face with both hands.
- "I'm so happy to see you. I'm glad you are ok... let's go to the ambulance, ok?"- I nodded but didn't let her go. I felt I could hold her forever. I wanted to keep her close for as long as I lived.
But the rest of the team gathered around us, and I wanted to thank them too. I needed to thank Hotch. So as soon as I let (Y/N) go, I wrapped my arms around him.
- "You alright?"- he asked me.
- "I knew you'd understand,"- I managed to say with tears falling from my eyes and a knot in my throat.
For a moment, I thought I was never going to see the team again. My family.
JJ held me close and apologized. I knew she felt guilty for leaving me alone, but I was the only one culpable for what had happened. I wanted to prove myself, and all I managed to do was prove I was a fool. A useless SSA.
- "It's alright, it wasn't your fault,"- I said and did my best to smile at her. But I know I failed. Gideon grabbed my arm and nodded.
- "Let's get you out of here."
- "Please,"- I whispered before we started walking- "Can I have a second alone?"- he looked at me and nodded, looking at Tobias' body lying by our side. He walked away, and I kneeled next to my capturer.
But instead of paying my respects, instead of cursing. Instead of anything, I took the Dilaudid bottles from his pocket and put them into mine.
And that's how the real hell started.
--
DIWK Taglist:
@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @svveet-peas @muffin-cup @shilohpug
Spencer taglist
@calm-and-doctor
General Taglist
@spenxerslut @ash19871962
Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.
Next update: May 5th, 2021
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bruhstories · 3 years
Text
Vogel und Jäger
Summary: You accidentally witness a murder, but the murderer takes pity on you. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: murder, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k
A/N: i've been dying for a mafia au with zeke so here's part one of the series Vogel und Jäger. i have two more chapters drafted, and i'll try to post for this series weekly so i can write some moooore for it.
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Bang!
The blood-curling sound was familiar to your ears. A gunshot — followed by the gurgling of a man.
Bang!
Another shot and the gurgling stopped. Panic settled in your heart, making you jump back and knock the metallic bin which served as a shield against the perpetrators.
Shit.
Footsteps drew closer and you began to pray. Running was futile. Running was always futile. Your throat was dry, your mascara was smeared all over your cheeks from all the tears, lips chapped and bleeding.
Our Father, who art in Heaven...
The cold muzzle of the gun pressed onto your forehead and you shivered, breath hitching, eyes glued to the wet pavement.
Hollowed be thy name...
The Mafia never spared any witnesses, you knew that all too well, even if you happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Thy Kingdom come...
"Hey, boss, we got a girl."
"Kill her."
"No, please!" You threw yourself at the feet and mercy of the armed man. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please, I'm only nineteen!" Through the sobs, your voice was still melodious, syrupy. So sweet that the boss stopped in his tracks.
Thy will be done...
Another pair of footsteps approached, tentatively, not as eager as the first person. You still haven't looked up, too scared to even blink, to even breathe.
On earth, as it is in Heaven...
"Hand me the gun, Yelena."
"As you wish, boss."
You felt someone crouch down next to you, someone dressed in expensive clothing, by the look of the trousers and polished shoes.
Give us this day our daily bread...
"You've got a very pretty voice." He lifted your chin up with the barrel of the gun, chills running down your spine.
"T-thank y-you..."
"Can you sing, little bird?"
"Y-yes."
And forgive us our trespasses...
Finally, you looked at the perpetrator — spellbinding grey eyes, platinum blonde hair slicked back and a matching goatee. His gaze was either boring or pitiful.
"Lucky you, we're hiring."
As we forgive those who trespass against us...
Anxiety coiled in your stomach, words caught up in your throat. You were still praying, unaware if this was all a sadistic joke or a miracle.
And lead us not into temptation...
Dark lashes fluttered, more tears streaming down your beautiful face as the gears in your head turned in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening.
But deliver us from evil...
"Hiring?" Your voice went up an octave when you saw the small stag pinned to the man's chest. The Jaeger family — the most feared mafia family in Paradis City.
For thine is the kingdom...
"A pretty voice like yours shouldn't go to waste." He got up and offered you his hand.
And the power, and the glory...
Reluctantly, you took it, helping yourself up and chewing your lower lip.
For ever and ever...
"T-thank you!" You told him, slender fingers squeezing his hand tightly. "I owe you m-my life."
Amen.
"Correct. Your life, your soul, your eyes and ears." He walked you to a car and opened the door for you. "Yelena, take us to the club. We've got business to discuss with my little brother."
•°.•°.•°.•°
Your eyes wandered all over the soundproof office, situated one floor above and opposite the stage. Every inch of the bar, the seating areas, everything was visible from that room. You tapped a finger on the wide window, eyes narrowed at the idea that it might, in fact, be bulletproof. These men were not playing, and you were now their property. The door opened and you jolted at the sound of music filling the office as your saviour walked in with two other people.
"This is my younger brother, Eren. You already know Yelena. I assume you know my name."
You nodded.
"Zeke Jaeger."
"Good girl." Zeke was pleased with your answer as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.
"I thought we didn't spare any witnesses." Eren shot you a look that made you regret being alive.
"Settle down, little brother. Tell us your name."
"Y/N, sir. Y/N Y/L/N." You swallowed, fingers fiddling with the hem of your blouse in an attempt to calm your nerves.
"You see, Eren, Y/N can sing." Zeke opened a drawer and pulled a gun out. More guns, more panic. Your eyes widened and your plump lips quivered when he aimed the gun at you with one hand, glass of alcohol in the other. "Sing or I paint the walls with your brains."
Your legs almost gave in at the threat — you knew it wasn't an empty one, and with all the courage you could muster, you closed your eyes and sang the first song that came to your mind, fucking Kiss from a Rose.
Your voice seemed to coat the people with honey, all three of them somewhat relaxing at the sweet sounds coming from your vocal cords.
"See, I told you she can sing." Zeke put the gun back in the drawer and closed it, swirling the bourbon in his glass before finishing it.
"Where do you live?" Eren crossed his arms, still suspicious of you.
"Historia's." You told him, eyes drifting to the ugly fur rug on the floor.
"The orphanage?"
"Yes."
"But you said you're nineteen." Zeke intervened, a brow quirked at you.
"I am. I try to help as much as possible in exchange for a bed and a roof over my head." You explained, eyeing the white couch that looked so incredibly comfortable.
"Just sit down already." Eren scoffed and you rushed to the furniture, mumbling thank you’s over and over.
"And why were you on that street tonight?" Yelena spoke for the first time since you came to the club. You looked at her and she seemed just as suspicious about you as Eren.
"I... the man you k-killed... he was... I'm-"
"A prostitute." Zeke nonchalantly interrupted you.
It was true. People like you, orphans, didn't have the privilege of being properly educated and finding well-paid jobs. Paradis was a jungle, and you did everything you could to survive. Everything.
"Well on the bright side you don't have to do that anymore." Zeke shrugged as he sunk deeper in his chair, feet on the desk, but you sensed he wasn't entirely honest. "You do have a beautiful voice, and our last girl had some... business to attend to, so you'll be taking her place."
"Is this why you called me here?" Eren sighed, leg impatiently shaking.
"Don't be stupid, of course not. I need Armin to prepare this month's tax reports and I need you to keep an eye on the police. They're sticking their nose in our business again, and I want them out of it. You two can go. Y/N, you stay." Zeke waved his hand and Eren and Yelena left, music briefly filling the office again.
You twiddled with the cushion in your lap, waiting for your new boss to say something. Being in that room was nerve-wracking, and you felt the air grow thick. Eventually Zeke took off his glasses, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sighed.
"Sir?" You dared, voice feeble and frail.
"What?" He clicked his tongue and you instantly regretted speaking.
"Sir, I'm not educated, but I've been on the streets long enough to know that every man or woman has a purpose..." You placed the cushion back. "...and a price. What's my purpose? I doubt it's only to sing."
Zeke nodded, fingers tracing the wooden desk.
"You're right, it isn't just to sing. It's to distract."
"Distract who? And from what?"
"You're asking an awful lot of questions for someone who's just witnessed a murder. You best not go to the police." He narrowed his eyes, piercing your soul. You sighed and walked to the desk, taking a seat opposite Zeke.
"It's not... my first murder." You confessed to him.
"Oh? My dear, you're full of surprises. Pray, tell. Drink?"
"Yes please." You answered, throat dry as a desert. "I can't go to the police. And even if I could, I wouldn't." The drink earned a disgusted look from you, but it was better than nothing. "Two years ago, I ended someone's life. He deserved it, he broke into Miss Historia's orphanage and tried to... to..."
"I understand." Zeke stopped you. "And if you go to the police, they'd do a background check on you." He continued, satisfied that he had a leverage in case you decided to turn against him.
"Exactly. And Historia helped me so much, I wouldn't want to put her in danger. So, I'm asking again, distract who from what?"
Zeke walked to the window, telling you to follow him. He pointed at two men, a tall blond one, and a short brunette one.
"See those two? They're policemen. They work for us, but we suspect they're double agents." He explained before pointing at three other men. "Those we suspect of being Marleyan mobsters. You see, Y/N, we have a lot of enemies. And we must keep our guard up every second of our lives."
You nodded, perfectly understanding Zeke's words. Paradis was a chess board and only the filthy rich played — the rest of you were pawns.
"Sir, you spared my life, and I know I can't ask for anything in return. But please, please don't drag Miss Historia into this. The children there did nothing wrong." Tears pooled at your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and you wiped them with the back of your hand. "I swear my loyalty to you."
"For someone uneducated, you're extremely clever." Zeke's voice was serious. You half-smiled at the compliment, but you knew the mess you got yourself into cut your lifespan severely. "Can you shoot?"
"No, sir."
"It's alright, Mikasa will teach you. Sleep on the couch tonight, I'll have Yelena bring you a blanket. Tomorrow you'll swear an oath in front of the family. And if you want to protect Historia, you'll move out of the orphanage."
You nodded. You understood that mingling with the mafia endangered everyone you loved, but you couldn't stop yourself from crying the entire night. Historia was but a few months older than you, yet she gladly took you in when she invested in that orphanage. Now you had to leave everything behind for her safety — and yours.
124 notes · View notes
classysassy9791 · 3 years
Text
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Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Humor/Fluff Pairing: InuKag Rating: T
Originally written for @inukag-week on tumblr circa 2016, now officially being updated. Its been a hot minute, hasn't it?
For InuKag Week - Day 2: Warmth
Part 1 l
Part 2 Word Count: 2,600
Can also be found on FFN and AO3.
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Kagome couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard.
Sometime between the moment she met the arrogant, rude man known as Inuyasha and the three shots she had consumed, they had fallen into a flirtatious banter that she rather enjoyed. Gone was the pompous jerk who had so rudely called her audacious names, replaced by a man who proved to actually be decent company.
No, she hadn't forgotten about their initial meeting, but as she downed another shot of whiskey, she realized she didn't much care. For the first time in months - maybe longer - Kagome found herself enjoying her evening. With her shackles removed and her inhibitions lowered, she relished in the sweet taste of freedom that had been sorely lacking from her life.
"You did not!" she squealed with absurdity in her tone, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Inuyasha chuckled, tilting his glass and giving a half-shrug. "I did," he confessed sheepishly, but not at all ashamed of his actions. "Miroku ran down the dorm hall, completely naked, screaming after me."
Kagome shook her head. "I can honestly say I have never stolen my roommates clothes while they were in the shower. Or pulled any pranks on them, really."
"To be fair," he continued, signaling the bartender for another round. "He actually met his girlfriend that way."
"By running naked down the hallway?"
He nodded. "Knocked her down and stopped to apologize."
"Still want to leave the tab open?" Kouga interrupted.
"Yeah, that's fine." Inuyasha finished off his beer. "Another round of whiskey shots while you're at it."
Flashing Kagome a smile, Kouga took their empty glasses. "You're going to dry me out."
"It's still early," Kagome barbed playfully. "Your bar will last until midnight at the very least."
He chuckled, filling up their shot glasses and handing them another drink. "Oh, thanks. I was afraid I'd have to close up soon."
Leaving with a, "flag me down if you need me," Kouga wandered to the other end of the bar where a busty blonde waved at him.
Typical, Kagome thought sourly. On the one hand, she didn't like the way her thoughts were turning, considering she didn't really know Kouga, and hated grouping him in with the rest of the spineless male population she had become accustomed to - especially since he was a bartender and it was literally his job to tend to the needs of his customers. But on the other hand, she couldn't help but feel bitter about his attention leaving her. Maybe it was because she had so blatantly been deprived of it for so long, that her longing for companionship had been exacerbated ten-fold.
Taking a sip of beer - which she had switched to once they started doing shots - Kagome heard her phone buzz in her purse again; it had already gone off several times during her conversation with Inuyasha. She finally pulled it out and unlocked it, frowning at the array of messages popping up on her screen.
Inuyasha raised a brow at the irritable look that overcame her expression before Kagome sighed and locked her phone. She quickly downed her shot of whiskey, not even bothering to 'cheers' him.
"Everything okay?" Inuyasha questioned, against his better judgement. There was a reason people showed up by themselves at a bar on Friday nights - either to drown their sorrows in whiskey or to find company for a few fleeting, midnight hours.
Kagome pressed her lips together. She didn't come to the bar to talk about her problems. She wasn't some sad case that needed a therapist to pour her drinks. If anything, she wanted to forget about the emotional damage that had been inflicted earlier that day. Her heart had been broken, her ego bruised, and no matter how many times her friends had told her he wasn't worth it, their sympathies didn't make her feel any better.
But, alcohol had a funny habit of turning into truth serum, and she found herself spilling her guts before she could stop herself. "Just my ex-boyfriend - er, fiance - blowing up my phone."
Inuyasha chuckled. "Can't take a hint, huh?"
Kagome shrugged with a bitter smile. "I mean, he broke off the engagement. Not sure why he can't follow through with his decision."
She had expected sympathy, perhaps even empathy. That's what most people offered in a situation like this, when they didn't know what to say or how to react. But Kagome was caught off-guard by Inuyasha's next question.
"How long were you together?"
Kagome eyed him curiously, his honey gaze hiding a wealth of understanding. "Five years," she answered him, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "Planned our life together, put a ring on it, and even booked the venue. But… I suppose he got cold feet a long time ago."
"His loss. What kind of bastard would put someone through that?"
She hummed thoughtfully, but didn't answer. It wasn't in her best interest to start talking about the past now, and she would rather take the spotlight off of herself all together. "What about you?" she asked her barstool companion as she took another sip of beer. "Any lucky ladies in your life?"
Inuyasha chuckled mirthlessly. "Nah, not anymore."
Kagome arched a brow. "Dare I ask?"
"Not much to tell. Her career and ambitions drove a wedge between us, and she decided they were more important than me. Simple as that."
"Sounds high maintenance."
He grinned. "Something like that. I mean, she knew what she wanted and didn't care what stood in her way. Even me."
Kagome felt an ache beneath her breast for the man beside her. She knew the pain of rejection very well. "Put out in the rain just like a dog. Doesn't that bother you?" she asked, tilting her head.
He frowned at her choice of words, and Kagome knew she may have touched a nerve then, but the alcohol had stripped her of her filter apparently.
"Well, I guess we're all damaged somehow," he replied with a shrug.
She scrunched her nose. "That's a bit thoughtless."
"What can I say? Shit happens. Get over it."
And then Kagome suddenly remembered the arrogant, rude, condescending jerk she had met when she had sat down at the bar earlier in the night. She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you such an ass?"
Inuyasha smirked while bringing his beer to his lips. "You are what you eat?"
Kagome let loose a growl of frustration. She had only known him for a short time, but she had quickly learned that Inuyasha was the most infuriating human being on the planet! "Your immaturity is revolting," she stated matter-of-factly, waving down Kouga for another shot of whiskey. She was definitely not drunk enough to deal with the way the conversation had turned.
"I'm not known for my friendly disposition."
Kagome glared at the man sitting next to her. "Is it fun being a jerk to me? Does it satisfy you?"
Inuyasha chuckled. "Actually, it is pretty entertaining."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, Inuyasha. You can hide behind that fake bravado all you want, but I know you're just a big softie underneath."
"Keh," he grumbled, finishing off his beer.
Kagome threw him a glare. "What? No witty repartee?"
He set down his empty glass with a little more force than usual, grabbing Kagome's attention. "I know your type, wench," he snapped, his amber eyes boring into hers. "I know exactly the kind of person you are; all high and mighty, acting as if you're better than everyone else. You think you can show someone how great life can be and how fantastic it is if I would just try. Well, sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but not everyone is worth saving, all right?"
His words left Kagome stunned into silence for a brief moment. How did their witty banter only a few minutes ago turn into this? This… This denied anger and unadulterated cynicism had Kagome reeling, her thoughts turning to what exactly had penetrated Inuyasha's life so completely that he had such a negative outlook on such.
She pursed her lips. "How much do you think you're worth?"
Inuyasha shrugged. "Like twenty bucks. Or two twinkies." He grinned at his own comment, but Kagome didn't find it very funny.
If anything, Kagome felt pity for him. No matter how bleak her life became, she always managed to find the good in it. If a person couldn't do that… Well, that was a pretty sad way to live. "As much as I would love to hear you divulge all of your secrets, this is a great song and I feel like dancing."
"Look, wench," Inuyasha barked out, his anger palpable. "I'm not looking for your validation. I'm pretty fucking happy with my life of dirty pennies and whiskey bottles. We don't all need to be Barbie."
She looked over at him, the low dim of the bar lights shining off his silver hair, and found she could only nurse one wounded heart at a time. "I just wanted you to leave tonight and think the world is a little less horrible than you thought."
"Hey, pretty lady," Kouga greeted as he appeared at the perfect time with another shot of whiskey for her and a full beer, stealing her full attention away from Inuyasha.
Kagome immediately downed the shot and chased it with her beer, ready to forget half of the night and lose herself in the music pounding through the speakers. As the evening wore on, the bar became busier, and the DJ had started up a round of tunes that had half the customers on the dance floor.
Kouga watched her curiously, arching a brow. "You alright there?"
"Dance with me?" she called over the bass pounding through the speakers. Oh yes, it was now the time of the night in which she had no qualms for asking for what she wanted.
He chuckled and glanced over at the other bartenders who appeared to have things under control. "You can steal me for a few minutes."
Kagome grinned and giggled like a school girl, leaving Inuyasha behind without delay. Kouga met her at the end of the bar and took her hand in his as she pulled him out onto the dance floor.
Some upbeat dance music blasted through the speakers. Kagome moved and swayed through the bodies crowding near the DJ, the vibrations of the music becoming part of her energy, raising her up several levels at once. Gone were her heartbroken wallows and the biting arrogance of her barstool companion. Her mind buzzed with pure joy. She moved in her dress like her hips were made to sway, the black sequins catching the disco ball that twirled above, causing her to glitter on the dance floor.
Kouga pulled her close, his strong hand pressed against the small of her back, his chiseled chest pressed against hers. She ran her fingers through her messy hair and pulled it to the side, feeling the beat of the music pound with each beat of her heart. Bodies pressed in tighter all around them. Kagome felt the part of her that was really her come out to play, to feel the vibe of the music and let her body go free.
"You're beautiful," Kouga's voice whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
His lips looked soft and very kissable, and Kagome knew her decision-making skills were indeed hindered by the alcohol that buzzed through her veins. And then his attention was caught by something else, his royal blue eyes pulling from hers to the outskirts of the dance floor. He said something to her, attempting to shout above the music, but his words were swallowed up by the electric beat that kept her entranced.
Kagome felt his hands slip from around her waist and he disappeared into the crowd. She didn't bother to follow, her hands playing with her hair, her hips moving to the music as she lost herself within it. This was what her heartbroken soul had fiercely needed; a night to forget all the troubles of the day.
Large, meaty hands found her waist, but they were unfamiliar and too warm to the touch. Kagome felt a warm flush find her cheeks as she gazed up to meet a stranger's hazy stare. He pulled her in close - too close - and even in her alcohol-ridden mind, she felt mild panic begin like sparks in her abdomen.
She tried to push him away, first gently and then forcefully, pretending to laugh at his behavior. "Thanks for the dance, but I need some fresh air."
"C'me on, baby," he slurred, pulling her tighter to his sweaty frame, his hot breath rolling over her skin. "We just met. Let's dance s'me more."
Kagome frowned. "I said no." Before she could stomp on his foot and fight her way out of the throng of dancers, the man was forcefully pulled away from her. They became separated by another man, one with very familiar silver hair who had his back to her. She didn't hear the words exchanged, but whatever was said was enough to send the man scampering off to the other side of the bar.
Inuyasha turned around, his piercing honey eyes studying her expression, before his hand gently wrapped around her waist. His grip on her wasn't strong like Kouga's, or possessive like the stranger. Inuyasha's hand was warm against the small of her back, and the anxiety she felt moments ago melted away.
"You okay?" he asked, swaying his hips in tune with hers as they continued to dance to the beat of the music.
She grinned up at him. "Were you worried about me, jerk?"
"Keh," he grumbled, his lips pulling into a smirk. "I despise you more than any other human I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. You're loud and wild and apparently have no sense of self-preservation. You also act like you have the mental capacity of a five year old."
"Are you flirting with me?" she barbed in return.
"Maybe."
His hand found the back of her neck, his fingers finding purchase in her hair, his hips grinding against hers. Warmth pooled into the pit of her stomach, his breath caressing her skin, and she moved her lips to find his.
Kagome barely had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips and delved inside her mouth. It was a very sloppy kiss with the strong scent of beer being exchanged between their billowing breaths. Her arm reached up and tangled around his strong neck. She pulled away and arched up into his broad chest, letting a moan escape in the contact of body heat against her own, before she drew back into his lips.
She could nearly taste the slight bitterness of the beer as it rolled off her tongue and seeped down her throat with every push of his tongue against hers. The kiss coupled with the beer and whiskey humming through her system obliterated every thought. For the first time that day, her mind was locked into the present. Her usual concerns for her life were suspended, and she had no wish for the kiss to end.
But as the music changed, they pulled apart. Inuyasha's skin shimmered with sweat and his amber eyes flecked with gold held her gaze. The beat of the music consumed them under the crazy neon lights, and Kagome felt alive during a night that was still so young.
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nameless-shrimp · 3 years
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heyo shrimpy!! sorry for the late response,, i got busy with exams lolol first, how are you today? :D Is anything good happening to you? enjoy your vacation btw, i hope you have a lot of fun! ^^ second, hmm finding your artstyle? that sounds even more challenging than improving for me, ngl hh- I don't know why but reading your answer made me think of a chibi dazai eating a nice burger... sounds cute,, I'm sure your drawing turned out amazing :D it's always a bliss noticing your art getting better, makes me want to draw more ^^ somehow, you drawing in a cuter art style makes you more adorable,, lovely doodles filling the empty pages,,,,
imagine dazai catching you doodling him with cute little hearts around the page,, and as his lips curved upwards a mild shade of pink dusts his cheeks, admiring you a little bit more before walking towards you quietly, wrapping his arms around your neck from behind. your frame stilled against his loving embrace, the pencil in your hand dropping on the concrete desk, your lover's lips close to your ears... his warm breath hit the back of your ear, kissing it in the process.
"I didn't know you drew me so much, gioia mia~¹" his sweet, teasing voice gently made its way into your eardrum, with you shivering afterward. his soft, umber locks brushed against your tender skin, the warm temperature his body radiated comforting you. your cheeks were probably red by now, and you were certain he already noticed. after all, when does he not?
clearing your throat, you comfortably positioned yourself, closing your eyelids slowly before speaking.
"u-uh, yeah. I, uhm-"
"and they're so well done, my darling! I assumed you were an artist since you always brought a notebook and pencil with you, even in our workplace, but I didn't expect you to draw me... I am flattered, my belladonna~ your artstyle mirrors the way you are... cute!~" your brain couldn't take in his words, and yours were stuck in your throat. all that was left was a stuttering mess whilst you shakingly turned around, with your lover chuckling at your adorable reaction.
dazai could now definitely see how your cheeks gained color, the redness painting them well. noticing your alerted gaze and trembling, he raised his hand to hold your warm cheek, caressing it with his thumb. although your quivering didn't cease, he took a note of how your eyes widened for a second before calming again. his smile broadened as you leaned into his touch, your timid orbs avoiding his loving ones. unfortunately for you, he had other ideas in mind.
and so, he leaned closer.
your eyes snapped back at him, his nose almost touching yours. a small gasp escaped you as you attempted to form a sentence, but failed to do so. the man in front of you only beamed at your reaction, his heart melting at how adorable and lovely you were. he was truly fortunate to have a loving, caring, understanding partner such as you.
he really loved you and cherished you with all of his soul.
"osamu! y-you're-" and before you could say anything else, the brunette gave you one last loving look before closing his eyes...
and placed his lips against yours.
your eyes bulged out from your sockets as a small shriek left your throat, but was immediately muted by your beloved's kiss. your flustered state couldn't comprehend what was happening, but the warmth of your chest was so overwhelming, you couldn't help but hastily press your lips back against his, tightly closing your eyelids to enjoy the moment more...
smirking, dazai stopped for a brief moment while you whined in protest, but he quickly soothed you while shifting his hands to grip your chair, gently twisting it around. you opened your eyes again to understand what he was doing... and regretted it as soon as you saw his smug look, while he caged you between him and your chair. you glanced around stunned, the dulcet shade of rosé overlapping your already flustered profile. shakingly, you looked up and met his calmer and haughty orbs again, making you gulp as your heart rammed in your chest.
his smooth, defined face was all you could see, and if it wasn't for your panicking mind, you were sure you could observe him for hours. you felt so open under his narrow, shadowy, russet orbs as if you were an interesting book he was very invested in. that fierce, intense way he observed you with, only made you shyer, and you shrank on your chair... which wasn't the best move, you thought, since he cornered you more than before, and all you could do was watch him from below, too red to do or say anything.
his low chuckle reverberated through the room, and a small drop of sweat rushed down your embarrassed face as he towered over you, devouring all of your sweet, lovable expressions. his smirk widened as your pupils shrank, bending down to your level once more. he tremendously wanted to pick you up and place you on the king-sized bed, while you desperately clung onto him and whispered his name, trying to evade his all-seeing gaze... but held himself back to tease you more.
after all, you looked so delicious right now...
"o-osamu..." your needy, wobbly voice brought him back from his little daydream, shaking off any other thoughts he had in mind... all that mattered now was you. humming, he got closer to you, both of your faces millimeters away. if he was trying to kill you, he was doing a great job at it. the smile never left his mouth, and you could feel the confidence seeping through him... his breath hit your lips as he exhaled making you freeze on the spot.
"hmmm? what is it, my dear? do you perhaps need something?" he asked, already knowing what you wanted and needed. but hearing you spell it out for him... it was a bliss.
you nervously exhaled, feeling the warmth in your cheeks rise as if you weren't blushing enough. not brave at all to face him head-on, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, looking down as you did so. dazai screamed internally at the cuteness with all the courage you had, you shyly told him...
"p-please osamu, i-i need you..." and that was all he needed. chuckling, he stared at you with a wolfish grin, pleased to hear those words coming out of your lips.
"then... let me take care of you, amore mio~²"
your sketchbook was long forgotten that night, but dazai did make you "sing" some sweet songs for him...
¹ = means my joy in Italian, the ask from Sofi sparked something within me 😶 dazai giving you Italian pet names sounds perfect-
² = my love, once again, in Italian- hh
okay i got too carried away 💀 ANYWAY THANKS FOR NOT READING THE ONE I SENT BEFORE HH SORRY AGAIN, PLEASE ENJOY YOUR DAY AND KEEP ON DRAWING UR ART CUTE AF
first of all, my vacation is going well! i enjoyed going out and riding some rides, plus took a nice shower and now i am relaxing in my bed, hehe.
second, it's truly a bliss to see my own artwork improve over time! it makes me extremely happy. also, i love the idea of dazai eating a burger, that's adorable. i have been wanting to doodle dazai a lot lately; probably cause he's just so adorable to me and he's absolutely breathtaking, hehe. it's nice to fill up the empty pages and just letting your mind flow as you draw.
third... OH MY GOD. READING ALL THAT WHEN I WAS IN LINE FOR MY RIDE MADE ME SO FLUSTERED UNDERNEATH MY MASK. AND REREADING IT ALL OVER AGAIN MAKES ME SO ASFJFSOXMSK 😳🥺💘 it was so, so sweet of you to write all that! please, dazai speaking pet names in another language truly sounds like him. not to mention, the fact that he was so flirty and he's such a tease from how you portrayed him, my heart is fluttering. and the very end though. oh my. 🥰🙈 goodness that really made me so blushy, hahaha.
thank you for taking your time to write that. it always warms my heart to read these and wow, omg, you just really wanted to fluster me today, did you? ASHFIAOZNA thank you so much for this. my heart... i have no words. it just made my day so much better too, haha. bless your kind soul, i loved reading it all 😭🤍
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penisman420-69 · 3 years
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A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.
Betrayal.
Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.
"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.
"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.
"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"
The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.
"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.
He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"
"Bye!" Sapnap yells.
George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."
"And my broken fan," Dream adds.
"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.
He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.
"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"
"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?
"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.
Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."
Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."
"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.
"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."
George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."
"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."
"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."
"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul—
"You were AFK for a while," George says, "we were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."
"Oh," Dream says.
"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing as his own words leave his mouth. "Lil too excited watching George?"
Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.
"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate off-stream."
"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushes it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."
George groans, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."
"Flustered, you mean," Dream inputs quickly.
"Okay, no, I'm sick of you two," George says, immediately exiting their server. "Consider this a rage quit."
GeorgeNotFound has left the game. Dream sends a :( into the chat.
"Noo, Georgie," Sapnap pleads.
"You did a great job today," Dream says, wholeheartedly. "I'm going to re-watch what I missed of it later." George laughs.
"I seriously have to go. I'll talk to you soon," he says, a small sound emitting from Discord signifying he's left the call.
The feeling returns to Dream's chest—it's akin to the cold rush that follows when he removes his hands from a steaming coffee mug. Some nights after their friends have logged off for good, he'll do anything to avoid giving in and going to bed. Twitter, mini-games, coding, creating playlists. His favorite nights, though, are when George wakes up early enough to keep him company. Their conversations radiate with the warmth of both the Florida night and the English sunrise.
So whenever George jokingly becomes angry with him, Dream can't dispel the tiny tremor of worry that maybe he's gone too far. He doesn't like to mull over the thought of them really fighting; it would terrify him like nothing else. He knows George will call again tomorrow, and that he isn't nearly as upset as he lets on. Yet he still finds himself carefully watching the dot next to George's name switch from green to a pale grey.
"I think I'm gonna hop off too," Dream says to Sapnap.
"Alright, seeya."
After disconnecting, he swivels around in his chair to face his bed. The dark comforter has been kicked to the floor, sheets askew. The window above his bed is shut tight to keep out the humid air and insects, but he can see the soft orange streetlights in the distance.
He sighs and wishes for rain.
He remembers running barefoot on his neighborhood streets as a child when storms would roll in from the sea, splashing in gravelly puddles and letting the cool raindrops dampen his hair. That space was always euphoric—a brief temperance from the smoldering air, green palm trees swaying in the wind, the hint of thunder and lightning—but it feels so far from him now. Especially in this dreadful weather.
He turns off his computer and begrudgingly gets in bed. He's nearly grown accustomed to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room. He squints.
A text from George.
I feel like this song is a good way for me to get back at you, it reads. Dream clicks on the link, opening his Spotify to a new 'Glass Animals' song.
"Heat Waves," he responds, smiling. Very funny.
He'll listen to that in the morning. As he sets his phone back on the nightstand, Dream finds himself warmed by the gesture, even though it was an insult on his behalf. George is a thoughtful guy. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. Not that Dream finds it unnerving that interacting with George has a direct correlation with his general contentment and moods; in fact, it isn't worth the overthinking.
Settled by his own logic, he allows his body to focus on sleep. He slips in and out of shadows, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric clings to his dampened skin up to the moment he sluggishly kicks it away. Something clatters to the floor, but Dream rolls onto his side.
Eventually, the night cools enough for him to sink deeper, and deeper, until he turns his head from his soft, warm pillow to a cold pile of sand.
Confused, he grasps at the foundation beneath him only for the rocky grains to slip through his fingers.
He sits up rapidly, glancing at the beach now surrounding him. Although the image is narrow, he can tell there is a murky-purple lagoon lapping a few feet before him. The moon ripples across its ominous surface. The night is quiet; a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck and bringing chills down his spine.
He looks down at his hands, seeing his bright sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. Bright green.
A sinking feeling begins to rot in his stomach as the familiarity sets in. He's been here before. He shifts his head cautiously, realizing where the shadows at the edge of his vision are coming from, and raises a hand to gently graze the ceramic covering his face. He doesn't need a mirror to know what the mask looks like.
He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, behind his right shoulder, a voice will call from the edge of the trees that'll say—
"Dream?"
He freezes. That's—that's not right, it isn't supposed to be—
"George?" He asks quietly, turning around with caution. George stands a few feet behind him, goggles perched atop his head and an axe in his hand. He's looking around their location, dazed. The starry sky reflects itself on his lenses.
He walks across the sand towards Dream slowly. "Where...are we?"
"Um." Dream considers curling in on himself, but can't help fighting the comfort of honesty. "My head, I guess." He knows from experience that this place values integrity more than anything. Facing it head on, so to speak. He just doesn't know why he'd let George in here—it isn't safe.
"It's pretty," George says, sitting on the sand next to him.
Dream's heart aches faintly at his remark. Once, he'd thought it was pretty, too. He can't find the words to tell George that after so many years of frantically slipping on the sand, coughing up lung-fulls of the dark water, and running from the woods—it has become a thing of nightmares.
He stares at George. Can he feel the memories here?
"So this is..." George gestures around with his axe vaguely. "Florida?"
Dream cracks a smile. "Yeah, you finally made it," he teases softly. George's grin is bright enough to make him look away. "It's a lagoon I used to come to as a kid."
"You make it sound like that was lifetimes ago."
Something foreign and lost weighs on the tension in Dream's features, forgotten behind the ceramic. "Maybe," he says, "I've had multiple lives here."
George says nothing. He lifts a moon-soaked hand to point at the water. "Do you see those?"
Dream turns his head, and small glowing blobs appear near the shore. Their light blue color is stark against the darkness as they float idly.
"They're moon jellies," Dream says in disbelief. He's never seen them here before. The curling darkness steals all hint of life besides him, his beating heart, and occasional whispers in the wind.
George hums in approval. Dream looks at him again, grateful for the mask covering his own features. Pale moonlight makes George's skin glow a soft porcelain, pink lips pressed together in a delicate brush stroke.
The word bubbles up from deep in Dream's chest, winding into his bloodstream and landing gracefully in his head.
Beautiful.
He wants to back away from it, to shove it deep down. But for once, it feels safe here, safe to admit it to himself without needing an air of humor to skate by on. Here, it isn't a joke.
"Why are we here?" George asks in a murmur, gaze lifting to face Dream. The word here hangs with a heavy lilt, as if he'd meant to say, what brought me? Who pulled me?
Was it you?
In his large brown eyes Dream can see the faded reflection of his sloppy black and white smile.
"I know why I'm here," Dream says carefully, "but I don't know why you are." A brief rustling of leaves and twigs behind them causes him to tense again. "It's dangerous here, George. We should go."
"Why? Don't you want to stay in this memory?"
Dream ignores the comment, and lightly wraps an arm around his shoulders to help him up. George doesn't try to stand. He keeps them rooted to the white shore with a confused frown.
"Nothing is going to hurt us when I'm here," he says.
Dream feels his face grow hot. "Knock it off. This is serious."
George looks at him earnestly. "I'm being serious."
Now that his arm is draped protectively over George's small frame, Dream becomes extremely aware of how close they are. He can sense George's body heat, watch his chest rise and fall, see the goosebumps on his neck. Dream's heart begins to pound. For how long has he wanted to meet him? To hear his voice in person? The fear inside him slowly begins to ebb away into fondness.
The moon jellies rapidly multiply until the lagoon is dappled blue, and gleaming.
George grins. "I told you it's pretty."
"Because of you," Dream says warmly. Even though George rolls his eyes, he means it. They laugh lightly at each other, glowing water and gentle sparks blooming as the moment passes.
George's gaze lingers on Dream for a few heartbeats, before letting go of his axe. He raises his hand to reach for the ceramic mask.
Dream freezes as his eyes follow the motion. His hood falls when George runs his fingers gently through his wavy hair—he can't remember the last time he let someone do this. It feels intimate. It feels terrifying. His eyes shut when George finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, he exhales when he feels the weight of the mask drop from his face.
The breeze is cold on his cheeks. He can smell the nearby saltwater. He opens his eyes, and sees twice as many stars as usual.
"How did you do that? I've never..." He looks at George, who is smiling softly.
"I know honesty is important to you," George says. His hand moves to gently touch Dream's cheekbone.
Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his, slender knuckles and fingers sliding together with timid grace. He feels alive. He leans closer, studying George's eyes until he slips down, further, to his soft lips. His breath is trembling.
"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"
George's eyes grow wide. "I—well, Dream—you—" he stammers, giving Dream exactly what he needs to let go.
Their movements happen nearly all at once—the inclining of George's jaw, the slide of Dream's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is raw with emotion, and gentle. Hot embers rise from Dream's chest to heat his face. The soft presence of George's mouth against his own is surreal, as their senses collectively slip away into the dreamland. His hand rises to softly cup George's jaw. He pulls his face closer, breath hot, heart stuttering. Nervous energy quickly ebbs into a strong hearth of longing, as he kisses George again, and again, and again. George emits a soft noise that makes Dream melt. He can feel George's hands in his hair, then on his neck, then on his chest.
Dream pulls away to capture brief puffs of air. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as he looks at George's flushed cheeks and mouth kissed red. Because of him. A low feeling stirs in the space just below his ribcage, the first flickering of a dangerously hot flame. All of it, all of George, just for him.
Dream parts his lips to say something, anything—and promptly wakes up.
I have heatwaves saved on my computer it doesn't phase me anymore I've read this several times you can't hurt me with this
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rikuphobic · 3 years
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A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.
Betrayal.
Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.
"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.
"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.
"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"
The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.
"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.
He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"
"Bye!" Sapnap yells.
George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."
"And my broken fan," Dream adds.
"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.
He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.
"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"
"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?
"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.
Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."
Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."
"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.
"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."
George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."
"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."
"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."
"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul—
"You were AFK for a while," George says, "we were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."
"Oh," Dream says.
"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing as his own words leave his mouth. "Lil too excited watching George?"
Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.
"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate off-stream."
"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushes it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."
George groans, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."
"Flustered, you mean," Dream inputs quickly.
"Okay, no, I'm sick of you two," George says, immediately exiting their server. "Consider this a rage quit."
GeorgeNotFound has left the game. Dream sends a :( into the chat.
"Noo, Georgie," Sapnap pleads.
"You did a great job today," Dream says, wholeheartedly. "I'm going to re-watch what I missed of it later." George laughs.
"I seriously have to go. I'll talk to you soon," he says, a small sound emitting from Discord signifying he's left the call.
The feeling returns to Dream's chest—it's akin to the cold rush that follows when he removes his hands from a steaming coffee mug. Some nights after their friends have logged off for good, he'll do anything to avoid giving in and going to bed. Twitter, mini-games, coding, creating playlists. His favorite nights, though, are when George wakes up early enough to keep him company. Their conversations radiate with the warmth of both the Florida night and the English sunrise.
So whenever George jokingly becomes angry with him, Dream can't dispel the tiny tremor of worry that maybe he's gone too far. He doesn't like to mull over the thought of them really fighting; it would terrify him like nothing else. He knows George will call again tomorrow, and that he isn't nearly as upset as he lets on. Yet he still finds himself carefully watching the dot next to George's name switch from green to a pale grey.
"I think I'm gonna hop off too," Dream says to Sapnap.
"Alright, seeya."
After disconnecting, he swivels around in his chair to face his bed. The dark comforter has been kicked to the floor, sheets askew. The window above his bed is shut tight to keep out the humid air and insects, but he can see the soft orange streetlights in the distance.
He sighs and wishes for rain.
He remembers running barefoot on his neighborhood streets as a child when storms would roll in from the sea, splashing in gravelly puddles and letting the cool raindrops dampen his hair. That space was always euphoric—a brief temperance from the smoldering air, green palm trees swaying in the wind, the hint of thunder and lightning—but it feels so far from him now. Especially in this dreadful weather.
He turns off his computer and begrudgingly gets in bed. He's nearly grown accustomed to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room. He squints.
A text from George.
I feel like this song is a good way for me to get back at you, it reads. Dream clicks on the link, opening his Spotify to a new 'Glass Animals' song.
"Heat Waves," he responds, smiling. Very funny.
He'll listen to that in the morning. As he sets his phone back on the nightstand, Dream finds himself warmed by the gesture, even though it was an insult on his behalf. George is a thoughtful guy. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. Not that Dream finds it unnerving that interacting with George has a direct correlation with his general contentment and moods; in fact, it isn't worth the overthinking.
Settled by his own logic, he allows his body to focus on sleep. He slips in and out of shadows, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric clings to his dampened skin up to the moment he sluggishly kicks it away. Something clatters to the floor, but Dream rolls onto his side.
Eventually, the night cools enough for him to sink deeper, and deeper, until he turns his head from his soft, warm pillow to a cold pile of sand.
Confused, he grasps at the foundation beneath him only for the rocky grains to slip through his fingers.
He sits up rapidly, glancing at the beach now surrounding him. Although the image is narrow, he can tell there is a murky-purple lagoon lapping a few feet before him. The moon ripples across its ominous surface. The night is quiet; a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck and bringing chills down his spine.
He looks down at his hands, seeing his bright sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. Bright green.
A sinking feeling begins to rot in his stomach as the familiarity sets in. He's been here before. He shifts his head cautiously, realizing where the shadows at the edge of his vision are coming from, and raises a hand to gently graze the ceramic covering his face. He doesn't need a mirror to know what the mask looks like.
He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, behind his right shoulder, a voice will call from the edge of the trees that'll say—
"Dream?"
He freezes. That's—that's not right, it isn't supposed to be—
"George?" He asks quietly, turning around with caution. George stands a few feet behind him, goggles perched atop his head and an axe in his hand. He's looking around their location, dazed. The starry sky reflects itself on his lenses.
He walks across the sand towards Dream slowly. "Where...are we?"
"Um." Dream considers curling in on himself, but can't help fighting the comfort of honesty. "My head, I guess." He knows from experience that this place values integrity more than anything. Facing it head on, so to speak. He just doesn't know why he'd let George in here—it isn't safe.
"It's pretty," George says, sitting on the sand next to him.
Dream's heart aches faintly at his remark. Once, he'd thought it was pretty, too. He can't find the words to tell George that after so many years of frantically slipping on the sand, coughing up lung-fulls of the dark water, and running from the woods—it has become a thing of nightmares.
He stares at George. Can he feel the memories here?
"So this is..." George gestures around with his axe vaguely. "Florida?"
Dream cracks a smile. "Yeah, you finally made it," he teases softly. George's grin is bright enough to make him look away. "It's a lagoon I used to come to as a kid."
"You make it sound like that was lifetimes ago."
Something foreign and lost weighs on the tension in Dream's features, forgotten behind the ceramic. "Maybe," he says, "I've had multiple lives here."
George says nothing. He lifts a moon-soaked hand to point at the water. "Do you see those?"
Dream turns his head, and small glowing blobs appear near the shore. Their light blue color is stark against the darkness as they float idly.
"They're moon jellies," Dream says in disbelief. He's never seen them here before. The curling darkness steals all hint of life besides him, his beating heart, and occasional whispers in the wind.
George hums in approval. Dream looks at him again, grateful for the mask covering his own features. Pale moonlight makes George's skin glow a soft porcelain, pink lips pressed together in a delicate brush stroke.
The word bubbles up from deep in Dream's chest, winding into his bloodstream and landing gracefully in his head.
Beautiful.
He wants to back away from it, to shove it deep down. But for once, it feels safe here, safe to admit it to himself without needing an air of humor to skate by on. Here, it isn't a joke.
"Why are we here?" George asks in a murmur, gaze lifting to face Dream. The word here hangs with a heavy lilt, as if he'd meant to say, what brought me? Who pulled me?
Was it you?
In his large brown eyes Dream can see the faded reflection of his sloppy black and white smile.
"I know why I'm here," Dream says carefully, "but I don't know why you are." A brief rustling of leaves and twigs behind them causes him to tense again. "It's dangerous here, George. We should go."
"Why? Don't you want to stay in this memory?"
Dream ignores the comment, and lightly wraps an arm around his shoulders to help him up. George doesn't try to stand. He keeps them rooted to the white shore with a confused frown.
"Nothing is going to hurt us when I'm here," he says.
Dream feels his face grow hot. "Knock it off. This is serious."
George looks at him earnestly. "I'm being serious."
Now that his arm is draped protectively over George's small frame, Dream becomes extremely aware of how close they are. He can sense George's body heat, watch his chest rise and fall, see the goosebumps on his neck. Dream's heart begins to pound. For how long has he wanted to meet him? To hear his voice in person? The fear inside him slowly begins to ebb away into fondness.
The moon jellies rapidly multiply until the lagoon is dappled blue, and gleaming.
George grins. "I told you it's pretty."
"Because of you," Dream says warmly. Even though George rolls his eyes, he means it. They laugh lightly at each other, glowing water and gentle sparks blooming as the moment passes.
George's gaze lingers on Dream for a few heartbeats, before letting go of his axe. He raises his hand to reach for the ceramic mask.
Dream freezes as his eyes follow the motion. His hood falls when George runs his fingers gently through his wavy hair—he can't remember the last time he let someone do this. It feels intimate. It feels terrifying. His eyes shut when George finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, he exhales when he feels the weight of the mask drop from his face.
The breeze is cold on his cheeks. He can smell the nearby saltwater. He opens his eyes, and sees twice as many stars as usual.
"How did you do that? I've never..." He looks at George, who is smiling softly.
"I know honesty is important to you," George says. His hand moves to gently touch Dream's cheekbone.
Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his, slender knuckles and fingers sliding together with timid grace. He feels alive. He leans closer, studying George's eyes until he slips down, further, to his soft lips. His breath is trembling.
"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"
George's eyes grow wide. "I—well, Dream—you—" he stammers, giving Dream exactly what he needs to let go.
Their movements happen nearly all at once—the inclining of George's jaw, the slide of Dream's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is raw with emotion, and gentle. Hot embers rise from Dream's chest to heat his face. The soft presence of George's mouth against his own is surreal, as their senses collectively slip away into the dreamland. His hand rises to softly cup George's jaw. He pulls his face closer, breath hot, heart stuttering. Nervous energy quickly ebbs into a strong hearth of longing, as he kisses George again, and again, and again. George emits a soft noise that makes Dream melt. He can feel George's hands in his hair, then on his neck, then on his chest.
Dream pulls away to capture brief puffs of air. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as he looks at George's flushed cheeks and mouth kissed red. Because of him. A low feeling stirs in the space just below his ribcage, the first flickering of a dangerously hot flame. All of it, all of George, just for him.
Dream parts his lips to say something, anything—and promptly wakes up.
oop there’s the entire first chapter of heatwaves
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