#and basically they sent a woman to be his girlfriend and they did drugs and everything

[nerdieforpedro]

Family sometimes, am I right?

Chapter 7 of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Co-written with @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Word Count: about 4.4k

Summary: Maya and Dieter have brunch with Maya’s parents. Vanessa is working behind the scenes and sets up a brunch of her own. Zack is sent into the Bridezilla’s den.

Warnings: Bad jokes, family drama, horrible bride, random dancing, one wonders why even the tags? They weren't really needed, but why not? Levity is good sometimes.

Notes: This chapter was a long time coming. Hopefully there won’t be as long as a pause between chapters. 🤭 We are working toward an ending though. 🫡

Main Masterlist/ Dieter Bravo Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Wednesday evening:

After speaking to Vanessa with Maya, Dieter spoke to his long time PR fixer separately. Maya chatted with Zack while she touched base with some of family, curt texts were exchanged with her brothers telling them that it really wasn’t their business and a call from Maya’s mom, Ms. Yvette, that was friendly and encouraging.

“So what do you actually plan to do to take care of it, Nessa? Don’t bullshit me.” Dieter and Vanessa have stepped out back and are sitting in the cool evening air, it’s still a bit humid, the burnt orange light from the setting sun makes Bravo’ furrowed brow even more pronounced. Vanessa snickers, it’s rare that she’s seen him actually care how she solves his problems.

“I normally bullshit you. It’s my job, so you’re kept out of how problems are solved, Dee.” The chuckle as she leans forward and brushes a lock of her red hair out of her face. It stuck to her forehead when she moved. “You really care how she’s seen, don’t you? That’s why you gave her that speech, almost begging her to not leave.” Dieter scoffed and waved his hand in the air. He didn’t meet Vanessa’s gaze.

“I did not beg. I just got my point across.”

“Alright, we’ll agree to disagree on that one. So, for the most part, media and the like see her as your new girlfriend. So, there’s no issue there. Or are you talking about her family? Because if you are, that's tricky and you’ve never asked me to have you get along with anyone’s family.”

Dieter shakes his head. “Not that either. Only family members I need to worry about are Maya’s parents. The bride is a bitch, and her brothers are halfway between protective and obnoxious. Frankly, I don’t think she needs to be there-”

“I take it you haven’t convinced her of that yet? You could use whatever method you used to get your point across.” Dieter rolled his eyes hard; he walked right into that one. That’s fair. “On a serious note, between Zack and I, we’ll take care of any further media issues that might crop up and speak to Maya about how she should manage any social media she has outside of her Instagram. That’s basic.” Vanessa stands and moves to Dieter’s side. She saw him mildly concerned, frightened about his career coming to a halt after one too many idiotic drug fueled stunts. Her hand patted his back, as frustrating as Dieter could be as a client, he wasn’t an evil man, asshole sometimes, but isn’t everyone depending on the day? For the most part, Vanessa also knew that Dieter until getting his shit together was fine messing up his life, but not anyone else’s. She got a different sense than that. Maybe Zack was right - something she never thought would cross her mind.

“What I want isn’t the focus here. Maya’s wonderfully normal and before you go into your crap about, ‘what normal woman in her right mind would be with you?’ She’s sweet and shouldn’t have to- why do you have that grin on your face?” Dieter leans away from Vanessa as she continues to stare at him.

“Nothing. Nothing. It’s a good look on you, Bravo. That’s all. Go and check in with her. I have some calls to make and shadows to move.” With a swift and playful slap to his back, Dieter hops up and shakes his head. The Vanessa he’s familiar with is not very playful and has only been nice when he’s cooped up out of trouble. It’s a change but he embraces it. Nodding, Dieter makes his way inside and upstairs to find Maya wearing a simple gray t-shirt and shorts. It was a night full of laughter, a few more tears and some quality sleep.

Thursday morning:

Maya and Dieter are laying in bed after speaking with Vanessa at length last night about their decision. They’re supposed to be going to brunch with Maya’s mother, she’d invited them after congratulatory text yesterday. Maya had been nervous, but Dieter found a way of taking her mind off of it. He kept her naked nearly the entire night with more marks on her body that she’d need to cover with clothes or make up. Dieter wasn’t willing to let up or allow Maya to overthink their decision. She was still asleep from early morning activities, her thick leg bent around Dieter’s waist as his hand ran up and down her thigh. Snoozing on his chest, Maya stirred slightly and relaxed again. Bravo kissed her forehead and looked at the ceiling. He wondered if he was making better decisions this time around and reasoned that he was. It was odd to feel at peace with his choices, but good. Things are good, he’s good and Maya is sleeping at his side and that’s very good. Dieter Bravo is finally alright. The thought takes him back into a comfortable rest.

Maya’s been on the phone with her mother who has now decided to change brunch from the restaurant they picked out together after looking different places up to something unexpected. As Ms. Yvette put it, “I want to see where this Dieter has had you staying. Must be nice since you’ve been cooped up there.” Maya assured her mother that Dieter Bravo does have her staying in a beautiful villa and there’s no need to check up on her. That her mother would never check up on any of her three brothers and has not that she can ever recall. Ms. Yvette made it clear that there was no room for discussion. She was going to come and to give her the address. Dieter was asleep and she felt like yelling but was able to calm down as she stepped out on the balcony and closed the door to muffle the noise. Ms. Yvette laughed on the phone, commenting that Maya shouldn’t be taking this so seriously, it’s just brunch and that’s why she’s calling at nine in the morning to give them time to be ready at one this afternoon.

The blue skies are cloudless as Maya stares up at them and looks back at Dieter still sleeping. She shifts in her chair and lets out a quiet grunt to which her mother asks if she’s alright. “I’m better than I have been in a long-time, ma. I really am. It’s weird because it’s been such a short time with him, but I feel- I feel happy.” There’s a pregnant pause between mother and daughter before they both giggle. It’s nervous with joy. Despite her daughter being so positive about things, Ms. Yvette insists on coming, even more than before.

Maya’s last-ditch effort to prevent her coming over was to say that she needed to ask Dieter about it before she came and that she would call her back after talking to him. “That man wants to be on my good side. He’ll be fine with me coming over there and seeing how he has my baby. I need to look out for you more because you’re not a knucklehead like your brothers. Baby, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and I just want to make sure you’re not dancing to his tune. He’s sweet on you, that I can see.” Questioning why it would be so concerning that a man, let alone one as successful as Dieter was being kind and giving to her, Ms. Yvette sighed. “Honeybun. I’m not saying you don’t deserve it; you do. But you’re not used to that sort of attention, not to mention all the scrutiny that comes from being with a man as well known as that teddy bear looking man. We both know you can be fragile and that’s alright. No one is strong all the time.”

“I know. Dieter’s okay with that. He told me not to be. That it’s alright.” Closing her eyes, she decides to give in and give her mother the address, she’ll tell him she’s sorry when he wakes up. Ms. Yvette thanks her and says she’ll look up the address. Maya offers to send a car for her, but her mother declines, stating that since Dieter is taking such good care of her baby, she couldn’t possibly ask him to do that. Plus, her father, Mr. Paul would insist that he drive. Both women laughed and Maya hung up with a long exhale. She watched the sky from the balcony as a pair of arms embraced her from behind. It’s taken some getting used to Dieter’s level of comfort with being naked. She certainly isn’t anywhere close. Soft lips kiss her neck as he croaks a drowsy ‘good morning’ to her.

“Almond Joy, you’re up early. Everything alright?” Bravo’s hair is curled in every direction and encourages Maya’s hand to explore it. She leads him over to the bed and sits down. Bravo remains standing, tilting his head to the side.

“Things are fine, I think, Sugar Lips. But there’s been a change of plans.” Maya pats the space on the bed next to her and Dieter plops down, putting an arm around her and laying his head on her shoulder. He rubbed his cheek against her, and she would swear that he purred. “Brunch will be here. Do you think we can have food delivered? My mother insists on seeing where I’ve been staying. It’s from a place of love, but I know she’s still a bit worried about me. I wish she would trust me.”

“It’s fine. It’s what moms do. They worry.” Bravo interlocks his fingers with hers and picks it up to kiss the back of it. “I don’t think it’s you she doesn’t trust, Almond Joy. But I can call the chef in. Is it just your mom or both parents.?”

“Both parents. I told them I could send a car, but my dad will insist on driving because that’s why they rented a car, they should use it and no one tells him he can’t drive. He’s not that old yet.” Maya shook her head and Dieter laughed.

“Sounds like a good time. We’ll be fine. Zack and Vanessa will have stuff to take care of, so they’ll be out of the villa. It will just be us and your parents. But…” Sitting up, Bravo runs his free hand up Maya's back and holds her neck gently before kissing her cheek. “We’ll call in the chef, have him bring different foods and your parents can pick what they want to eat and we can chat while he cooks.” It's said like it's just something that normally happens, and the look on Maya's face, one of awe tells him so. . Dieter calls in the chef and lets him know the preferences and dietary restrictions. The chef lets Dieter know that he will be at the villa by eleven to do some prep work and put the food away.

Meanwhile, Zack has been dispatched to the wedding venue to get a better look at exits and entrances. His task was to report back to Vanessa just in case things went crazy at this wedding, so they could get Dieter and Maya out quickly. Zack questioned if she was expecting the event to go south, Vanessa just answered with “we just need to keep them safe and avoid any negative press if anything does happen I've contacted who I've needed to.” He doesn’t like vague instructions but understands that some of what Vanessa does he’d better off not knowing. Once there, the PA asks a few guests who he would talk to about the venue itself and is directed to Sam, Elyssa’s maid of honor as she would know exactly who to speak to.

Sam had been summoned by the wedding planner to help finalize where different flower arrangements were going to go based on Elyssa’s ‘vision’ for the wedding. Zack introduces himself and gets information of the layout of the venue with entrances and exits plus where Dieter and Maya will be sitting. He drops in a group chat with his boss, Ms Maya and Vanessa that the couple will be sitting at a table toward the back. Where friends of family and distant relatives are usually placed, he’s the messenger of bad news again.

“Hello! While I was getting my scalp massage I had an idea for a few tweaks we would do around the venue. Shouldn’t take long to…” Elyssa, the infamous bride has sashayed in to locate the wedding planner who has a look of defeat upon her face. A collective groan is shared between the planner and Sam because it's two days out from the event and this annoying woman still wants to make changes. It's odd that she stopped talking though. Normally, once the bride to be gets going, they can't stop her until there have been at least three colors reviewed or arrangements switched around. “Who are you? I've never seen you before. Is he with you?” Elyssa pointed to Zack and then the wedding planner, she shook her head no and continued to do so trying to picture what else would need to be modified, what even could. This bride must have been in her top ten of horrid bridezillas to work for.

“I'm Zack, Dieter Bravo's PA. I'm here-" The bride's eyes squinted as she stared him down. That name, one of the two people who would steal her spotlight and make it about them. Her hands planted on her hips and her nostrils flared. The long-suffering PA swallowed some saliva at the back of his throat and continued, “-to get the layout of the venue so Dieter's team can plan for security at the event for him.” Despite the look of utter disdain that she had, he would continue. It's his job, it’s paying down the student loans, he has an income and that's what matters. On the upside, he gets to travel for free.

The Wedding Planner sees the rising irritation on her client’s face and interjects to state that often with people who are famous or noteworthy tend to have security as large events make it easier for people who are crazy or mean them harm to get to them. It's fairly standard. If this was meant to ease Elyssa's mind – it did not. It only reinforced that Maya, her future sister-in-law, had managed to bring someone that required such measures, taking even more attention away from her. As of late, Maya's name has been on everyone's lips in some capacity, either by herself or when they mention Dieter. Crossing her arms, Elyssa rolls her eyes and looks out at the venue, due to be filled with hundreds of guests to celebrate her, not either one of them. “You can get the layout from my planner here. You'll need to pass on to your boss and his boo that they're to wear only black, gray, brown, navy or olive. No other colors. None.” Zack sees this woman poke out her bottom lip, what grown adult does that? He simply nods and drops more unsavory news in the group chat. Vanessa can smooth it out with Dieter and Ms Maya. He knows he will be sent on more errands to sort out new outfits. . He did actually want to speak more to Sam but she was pulled back up to whatever was going on in the bridal suite. The Wedding Planner and Zack went over the floor plan of the venue and what things should look like provided nothing else is changed. The PA thanks the planner for her time and starts his way back to the villa, but remembers that he may want to give it a few hours before checking in. He calls Dieter’s security team instead to go over the floor plan together.

Meanwhile, outside the hotel, Mr. Paul and Ms. Yvette are trying to program the GPS to the address that their daughter Maya has given them. Mr. Paul isn't good with computers as he would put it, and Ms. Yvette likes her nails long so it makes it difficult to punch in the address. They call their middle son, Daniel, to help program the GPS and he does it with such ease that it makes Ms. Yvette a little mad. The son knows his mother well and laughs, wishing them a safe drive as Alonzo, Maya's eldest brother, and Michael, her younger brother, come out to see where their parents are going. Mr. Paul is candid, they're going to visit their daughter and the new man in her life, this Dieter. The boys all state that they would like to come but Ms. Yvette silences them, “I have raised you all better than to show up somewhere uninvited and without good reason.” They murmur to themselves knowing that she's right, Mr. Paul starts up the car but doesn't drive off as he heard a polite ‘excuse me, sir.’

Standing next to the car, she has a warm smile on her face and two business cards, one for each parent. “Before you go to enjoy brunch with your daughter and her beau, I just wanted to introduce myself. I am Vanessa, Dieter Bravo's PR manager. I'd like to speak to both of you when you have time.” Maya's father is skeptical but her mother nods and takes the cards for the both of them. In her conversations and texts with Maya, she's heard this woman's name and remembers the red hair she mentioned. Vanessa steps back and waves as Mr. Paul pulls off, asking his wife if she's truly okay to talk to. Ms. Yvette assures her husband that she is and to focus on the road and directions.

Vanessa's attention then turns to the three brothers who've noted her exchange with their parents. “I take it then that you three are Maya's brothers. Hello. I think we should have brunch as well to discuss some things. My treat, and your wives are welcome to join us, of course.” The prior sentence was made with eye contact to both Alanzo and Daniel. The next was for Michael, “your fiancée is welcome too, if she's not too busy.” Her mouth tightened with the word fiancée and Michael shifted the weight on his feet. Daniel and Alonzo stated that their wives are busy with bridesmaid activities and pampering. Michael said Elyssa was doing the same and Vanessa scoffed, “That's all she's doing, is it? You sure about that? In fact, I would love, especially for her, to come. We can all discuss it together.” Michael shakes his head stating that it's not possible, both of his brothers are wondering why he's so nervous when this stranger keeps mentioning his bride. They're also excited at the prospect of getting away from the wedding madness for a couple of hours, so they're fine to ride without their wives with Vanessa. Michael caves to the peer pressure and follows Vanessa behind his brothers to the large SUV she had apparently arrived in. The three brothers hop in the back with Vanessa in the front passenger seat and are driven by one of Dieter's wheelmen off the hotel grounds.

The drive over to the villa was actually short, fifteen minutes away from the hotel. The reason Ms. Yvette had her husband leave a half-hour before they needed to be there was just in case of any traffic and if they got turned around using the GPS. Thankfully, they arrived about ten minutes early, she told Mr. Paul to take it slow up those bumpy hills. The car was a rental and it needs to go back in the same condition the got it in. Pulling up, they see a large gate, it makes sense given that the man who’s staying in the villa is famous, but was still impressive.

About twenty minutes before her parents arrive at the villa, Maya is anxious. What she thought was going to be just some island romp has turned into a media nightmare and dug a rift between her and some of her family. It also granted her time well spent with a sweet, devious, playful lover in Dieter who's been nothing short of accommodating and generous. The place is spotless as there had already been a few cleaning people through this morning and now, she was just fluffing pillows that did not need to be. Daisy is nipping at Maya's ankle to try and get her attention but she's staring out of one of the side windows of the villa. The lush green expanse she'd like to get lost in for the moment, he's going to meet her parents. Something that normally happens after a few months of dating, their entire relationship has been rapidly evolving over the course of a few days. She closes her eyes to try and calm down, one thing at a time. Maybe her mother won't ask too many questions, maybe her father won't stare at Dieter the entire time. Just maybe, it might go smoothly, she releases a long sigh.

In contrast, Bravo is sneaking a few grapes from the spread the chef has prepared for brunch. Everything smells mouthwatering and he can't wait to eat. He finds himself wondering where Daisy has gotten off to when his phone vibrates, it's a message from Zack about clothes of all things. His PA says that the dress code was told to him, by the bride herself and Dieter clicks his tongue. Just the thought of that evil woman is enough to put him in a sour mood. He just texts back a thumbs up and looks up to see Maya looking out of a window. She's been nervous since this morning, he's pretty sure it's the combination of the mess online, the messages she'd received and them deciding to see where this goes. It was a lot.

Looking back down at his phone, he decides to use music to distract her, at least until her parents arrive. This way, they can have a bit of fun before a possible awkward lunch. Dieter picks a song that fits how he feels about Maya called “New Love,” by Victoria Monét. Stepping behind her, his hands slide across her hips, surprising Maya. She makes a small giggle and lets him turn her body to face him. “Baila conmigo, (dance with me) Almond Joy!” She misses a few beats at first but catches the tempo, Bravo feels her muscles relax in his arms as they sway. He hears her laugh again at the large grin he has on his face, he missed it in the few hours, she was tense.

“Sugar Lips, how do you do that?” Now Maya isn’t focused on how worried she is about everything. Now she just sees Dieter’s goofy grin. She presses her forehead to his shoulder as they continue to move in time with the music, their rhythm is slightly off from the song, but that doesn’t matter much in this moment. Calmer, she realizes that she’s creating her own distress by trying to control something she can’t – someone else’s perception.

Nuzzling his nose in her lush hair, “I might have learned a few constructive ways to relax and use nervous energy. Painting is one for sure and drawing sometimes, but if I can’t do either or I’m not in the right mood, music works. The number of instruments I have bought and failed to learn how to play through YouTube is proof of that, Maya.” The song ended and it’s quiet, save for the chef sizzling something on the stove in the kitchen. The pair haven’t stopped rocking in a small circle, Dieter’s hands move from her hips to her hands, interlocking his fingers with Maya’s. She raises her head and looks up at Bravo with a soft warmth.

“Gracias, (Thank you) Dee.” The Oscar Winner’s eyebrows raised at her sentence. “I may have downloaded an app or two. Did one Spanish lesson. Very basic.” Releasing her hands, Dieter lifts an arm of Maya’s and gently spins her, when she faces him again, his large hands pull her toward his chest and he uses a thumb to tip her chin up.

“If we weren’t expecting company, I’d tell Aldric to get out of here and test out your Spanish, Almond Joy,” He licks his lips, “without this dress on.” Catching her off guard, Dieter is able to get a quick kiss in before there’s a buzz followed by a loud ring. “Looks like that will be for this afternoon. We’ve got to be good hosts now.” Maya has an outburst of laughter as they make their way to the door, Dieter presses a button greeting them, then the pair hear the large gate at the end of the long villa driveway open. Soon, the parents’ car is pulling up and parking outside. Maya and Dieter walk outside to greet them, smiles on both of their faces.

Mr. and Mrs. both give Maya a large hug as Dieter watches, it’s very sweet, their interactions. Mr. Paul holds onto his daughter for a little longer while Ms. Yvette embraces Dieter, telling him it’s good to see him again and how beautiful his villa is. Maya’s father then stares down Dieter, supposedly sizing him up, but reaches for a handshake that Bravo returns. It quickly turns into a hug between the two men, and everyone heads inside. A short tour of the first floor is given, with Ms. Yvette commenting how beautiful Maya looks in her golden sundress. The parents clock that Dieter in fact is either holding their daughter’s hand, has his other hand on the small of her back or is shoulder to shoulder with her. They don’t see her shooing him away or telling him that she needs space. Silently they nod to each other watching them, it’s good.

Soon, everyone is seated at the table with their food and drinks. Ms. Yvette is praising Aldric’s culinary skills while Mr. Paul is expressing his appreciation of the food by eating it. When the four of them are full and have moved to the couch with their coffees , a question was asked by Maya’s mother that made the new couple utterly confused: “Have you considered not coming to the wedding?”

Chapter 6. Chapter 8

The Trash Panda Possse 🦝: @megamindsecretlair @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @schnarfer

@soft-persephone @saturn-rings-writes @readingiskeepingmegoing @harriedandharassed @yorksgirl @bishtrouille

[beautybanned]

damian. • bodyclaim. • headcanons. • isms. • threads.

BASIC INFO

full name — Damian Sanchez age — thirty-five (july 26) gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns) orientation — bisexual (tho struggling on the men side) occupation — grifter, thief, con artist, prostitute deity connection — aphrodite  peacock name — danger weapon/ armor — tba clothing style / armor — fitting, tight, show-off-y

PHYSICAL INFO

face claim — Josh Segarra hair — brown / eyes — brown height — five foot & eleven inches build — beefy babe is beefy - check me scars — n/a tattoos — n/a piercings — n/a special characteristics — he's quiet and grumpy when he doesn't get to throw punches for a while.  sexual preference— verse switch

PERSONALITY

alignment — neutral evil positive traits — protective, loyal, strong-willed negative traits — loner, selfish, aggressive (on occasion) hobbies — cars, working out, partying

MEDICAL INFO

mental — n/a physical — beefy beefcake phobias — n/a eyesight — 18/20 although avrae tends to disagree dominant hand — right hand drug use — sometimes alcohol use — ehhh ye diet — healthy, he's gotta stay beefy and fit after all. fck fats and fast food

BACKGROUND

birthplace — santa clara, cuba parents — Anna Maria Sanchez (step-mother) & Tomaso Sanchez (father) & Aphrodite (biological mother) siblings — 3 older sisters (all half siblings though) pets — scrapo (dog, lives with his mom) education — high school graduate notable skills — disciplined, stealthy, quick with his hands & charming when he wants to be

BIO

Born the first son in the Sanchez family, he was a mere week old when his parents married - Anna knew he wasn't hers and yet she accepted him like her own. They left Cuba when Damian was seven and came to the US in the hopes of finding a better life in the country of endless possibilities. Chasing the American Dream, both his parents did their best to adapt as quickly as they were able, which included raising Damian to bi-lingual, at least since their arrival. He struggled with English at first, but made steady progress nonetheless and school probably did its part in that. He showed his powers early.. but they didn't ever really affect him, so he'd spend a few summers in Camp Halfblood, but ... not as religiously as it might've been expected from a Demigod.

Growing up with three older sisters... wasn't always easy. He was teased in school, teased at home, but grew up with a semi-healthy confidence nonetheless - although one could say it took him a while to develop it. Being considered exceptionally pretty for a guy surely helped with that, because he was also a typical jock+sports guy, so football was a must in highschool. And when he dashed past his enemies, all those who spread rumors about him held their breaths.

For a while at least.

Damian married young, because he and his girlfriend accidentally had a child, but he never quite .. felt himself a father. He didn't want to be. He'd had no choice, but to accept his fate - he couldn't just abandon her, could he? His parents would have his head, so Damian stayed and he found a job to care for his family, but he never quite found contentment in his life. Satisfaction. So, he began to drink, because how else could he relax after a long day of work, right?

It wasn't like he secretly enjoyed the attention he got when he stepped into bars. The drinks sent his way, the smiles and the waves - by all genders alike and he didn't even need to use his powers. He ..rarely did anyway. How easy it was to ... get what he desires off them. Almost too easy. It was wrong, so he didn't. At least .. not a lot. Not until he met a man at one of the bars he frequented for free drinks. You could do so much better. Aren't you tired of being nothing?

He was. He was. From drinks to purses, to hearts, to bank accounts - nobody and nothing was safe from him anymore. The new game plan? Go for the weakest links; for the older ones, the desperate ones. Play boytoy for a few weeks and no older woman (or man) will be able to deny you happiness. It worked.

At least until Damian fell for one of them. A man. Straight as an arrow - he thought, Damian lost his heart to his last victim. Pressured by his partner, he went through with it despite his heart telling him no and ruined everything. Unlike the others, this one didn't shy away from involving law enforcement and Damian... had to run.

Months of cat and mouse, of trying to figure out who he even was, of trying to understand his heart, make up for past sins and reconnect with his love, but all tries were rebuked, denied and his heart would bear the heaviest fate for it.

Where better to find safety than in a Camp nobody knew existed?

[living-my-future-past-life]

Lies For A Fancy

My ex partner lied a lot, to the point where I cannot even say I dated the man himself, when caught out, he made elaborate excuses. I will share some of the things he lied about here, for records sake.

He openly admitted to having lied on his CV in his youth for material gain, and shunned those who did not and thus struggled to find employment. Looked down on me for being honest on my CV.

Lied about his intimate past. He claimed he had no romantic or physical partners since his ex girlfriend (who passed away), and that he never sent sexual content to women before me, he then threatened me that if I ever did this or that or whatever he would leave me. It turned out all his claims were lies, as proof was uncovered he did all of these things.

He made claims that he had basically died 3 times over, and that half his bones were solid metal (not pins... I mean solid metal) and that his blood was poisonous. This is not biologically possible. Bones contain critical components to make up white blood cells, without which... He would be dead. Also if his blood was poisonous then any pet of his that ever bit him or licked an injury would also be dead or at least very sick.

He made claims that his grandfather was ex-military and that he had guns in his house, and yet when I stayed there, I did not see one.

He claimed he had many savings, yet he had NO credit score. He also promised to go 50/50 on the costs to rent a house, yet when I asked that when he move in he pay 40% he got annoyed and said he didn't know if he could do it.

He claimed he had a serious illness yet never thought to show the woman he intended on living with, ANY medical documentation, even after I asked... 10 times.

He claimed he stopped his illegal behaviours long before meeting me, but when I discovered he was doing it months before meeting me he made excuses and used his ex-girlfriends death as an excuse.

He claimed he understood my spiritual standing on things and my personal situation, but later when this came to the surface, he cut his hand and bled on me to 'mark me', or 'protect me'? (From something I needed no protection from btw).

He claimed he had stopped smoking, yet when he argued with me, he pulled out a nearly full pouch of tobacco, papers, and filters.

He claimed he had his own business, but there is no record of it's existence anywhere online at all, including government websites.

He claimed his ex insisted her child was his, and that he plucked a hair from the child's head to do a DNA test and proved himself not to be the father in court... No record of any of this happening.

He claimed he hospitalized a man. No record.

He claimed he punched his ex into the floor upon finding out she cheated on him. Not arrested for assault?

With so many lies, I cannot say that I even knew the man I dated. I have no idea what was real and what was not. I cannot even say any of the happy memories are real, because all the stories he told, the things he said, most of them were lies. He talked about little else other than these things.

But here are some other facts about him.

Conservative: Believes that benefits shouldn't exist. Mothers who cannot afford to have children shouldn't have them, people shouldn't be given help from the government.

Anti-LGBTQA+: Believes polyamorous people are just being greedy.

Transphobic: Believes transgender is not real, and that people are just following a trend.

Anti-LGBTQA+ rights: Believes gays shouldn't have kids.

Narcisist: Literally very seriously said the words " My life is the worst anyone has ever had".

Violent: Literally threatened that his mother would shoot my parents to my grandmother.

Ex-drug dealer: Made claims that he made and sold Class A drugs.

Disrespectful of sex workers: Instead of going on OnlyFans, openly searched for leaked images of sex workers rather than subscribing, and then shunned them.

Animal abuse: Made claims that he trained his dogs in ways that are not animal friendly. Also man-handled my 18 year old cat when I was trying to train her to go outside in a new house.

Claimed to have a sniper rifle and ties to the military.

Got angry at me when I was sexually harassed by a contractor working on my house even though I was obviously upset.

I looked after him on our first 'date' (it wasn't a date).

Looked down on my career, when I asked for him to contribute more to the household he was LIVING IN RENT FREE, so I could pursue a dream, he got annoyed and just said 'maybe'.

Insisted I apologize when I told him to 'stop gaslighting me please'.

Blamed me, and claimed I was at fault when I found out all of his lies. Made me the bad guy.

Upon having a panic attack, he told me that if I didn't listen to him he would leave me... I was having... A PANIC ATTACK. STFU.

Why is it so hard to trust again? Because this man openly lied to me, over and over and over again. When he realized I knew it all, realized how he had treated me, he said 'Why would you want to stay with me'. And when I ended it, he got angry at me, begged for another chance. I already gave him many, many chances, many chances to admit the lies, to be honest, to put in minimal effort, be an equal partner with me, to make it work... And he didn't, time and time again.

He got me because he presented himself very well at the start, but he lost me because he kept spinning his web of lies after I told him I knew.

This was the last, the last I intend to have, I have seen enough of this bullshit now. The 9th relationship I had, and the worst. I know my truth now, my life is not without love, but it will never again be with love that is destructive, toxic, and built on a castle of lies, ever again.

[spunkpunx]

Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery - Graham Coxon

Plot: Reader is dating Alex James, and finds herself miserable, but finds comfort in a tumultuous affair with his friend, and guitarist, Graham Coxon.

I will probably do a part 2.

Word count: 5153!

Warnings: Drugs, Alcoholism, Smut, Angst, Smoking

April 1996

Alex loved France. Not only that, but the French loved him, specifically the women. I didn't need to understand his words to recognise the flirty tone in his voice when he spoke to the waitresses, the bar staff, in fact, basically any attractive woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Of course, I knew Alex well, so I was never under the impression that he would be a devout, faithful partner, but I also never expected him to be so explicit in his relationships with other women. We both considered the relationship open, but Alex was the only one who seemed to take advantage of that situation.

I found solace in hanging around with Graham. The tour was stressful. We both struggled. We all drank, but for Graham it was a necessity. I spent more time with Graham than with Alex, but of course he didn’t care. The words “jealous” and “possessive” were not in his vocabulary, but then again, neither was “monogamous”.

I was tired and miserable. The venues where the band played could be stubborn about sound-checking themselves. This resulted in a lot of arguments, as I was strictly instructed that the band were only to have their own sound technician (me). Alex and Damon could be rude. Since I’d been dating Alex, nobody took my work seriously. I stopped being a technician with almost seven years experience on tour, and became “Alex’s girlfriend helping out”. The crew could be horribly sexist at times. Even Ivan dismissed me when I brought him a problem.

“Get one of the other technicians to look at it,” he said, after I told him that one of the venue’s sound guys had wired the bass into a guitar amp and not the subwoofer. He must have turned up the volume to compensate for the sound and blown the speaker.

“I know what I’m doing! I’ve worked with this band for years!” I ended up snapping. I heard one of the roadies mumble something about a period and it sent me over the edge. Sometimes I got so angry it was like I didn’t have control over my impulses anymore. I told them all to fuck off and stormed out the room, kicking the door with a tremendous thud as I left. After I’d cooled down and returned, the crew tiptoed around me like I’d overreacted. After the gig, Ivan came over to speak to me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you. You’re one of the best sound techs we’ve had,” he apologised, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I appreciated the apology, it was the first one I’d had since the tour began.

Alex and I had an argument that night. We argued often, but this was explosive. He came into my room, coked up and horny, sitting next to me on the bed and pressing wet kisses to my neck.

“Are you over your little tantrum?” he asked, kneading my breast a little roughly. I pulled away.

“Little tantrum?” I repeated, surprised at his tactless words. “Everyone has been treating me like shit recently Alex.” He shrugged, running a hand up my thigh over my jeans, toying with my top button.

“Whatever it was. Ivan was trying to help and you just went mental,” he laughed, like it was all a big joke. He pressed his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

“It’s your fault I’ve been feeling like this!” I snapped. “If I didn’t start dating you then people would actually treat me like a professional! All of a sudden Damon is asking the drum tech to check the mic volume before they go on!”

“All of a sudden it’s my fault?” he asked, voice raising slightly. “Just cause you overreacted and bit Ivan’s head off?!”

“You don’t get it Alex! If you were ever actually here you’d understand how I was feeling, but you’re always off snorting lines and banging these fucking French girls!” I shouted at him.

“Well maybe I’d be here more if you actually put out instead of just going off at me!” he yelled back. I stood up, walking across the room with my hair clenched in my fists. I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

“Put out?” I looked at him incredulously. “So you’re only here if you can have sex with me? This relationship only exists so you can rely on me having sex with you whenever you fancy?!” We were both properly shouting now.

“That’s what relationships are! That’s what love is! The only difference between friends and relationships is sex!” he replied, seeing this as perfectly valid reasoning.

“So all I am is sex to you?” I asked, my voice now dangerously softer but still dripping with venom.

“No... That’s not- Stop twisting my fucking words!”

I calmly picked up my cigarette carton and lit one, letting his point ferment.

“Get out,” I spat. He glowered at me, standing up and leaving the room, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

As soon as he left the room, hot tears started spilling down my face, not tears of sadness but of rage. I felt overwhelmed. I smoked a cigarette, then another, the deep inhalation subduing my frustration. I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Piss off Alex!”

“It’s not Alex,” came Graham’s gentle reply. I stood and opened the door, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Gra,” I huffed in relief at his presence.

“I heard you were arguing, I wanted to see you were okay,” he said. It didn’t surprise me he’d heard it. Graham’s room was just across the hall, and we’d not been quiet. “Pub?” he offered, smiling slightly.

“Yeah alright, I’ll just grab my coat.”

We found a small bar not too far away from the hotel. Neither of us spoke particularly good French, but Graham knew enough to order some wine. The Parisians didn’t drink the same way the British did, and both of us were a little too embarrassed to try and order two pints of beer and a pack of cheese and onion crisps. Instead, we sat with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses, hidden away in a back booth and laughing at our clumsy attempts at the French language.

“It’s so embarrassing walking round with Mr Culture speaking fluent French like it’s the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile I struggle asking the man in the shop for a packet of fags,” I complained, chuckling.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you arguing about before?” Graham queried.

“Oh, just...” I paused, unsure whether to tell him or whether he’d just agree with Alex. “Well you know how I lost my temper before?” Graham nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was listening. “Well he made a joke about it, and it pissed me off. I dunno, I feel so tired and miserable recently, and the way everyone has been treating me like I’m totally incompetent at my job is so difficult. Alex is never there, he just swans around doing whatever he wants, meanwhile I just feel so overwhelmed,” I spilled, not even intending to share that much. Something about the build up of emotions in my life and Graham’s reassuring presence at the end of the table made me feel the sudden need to tell him everything. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.”

“I know how you feel, kind of,” Graham reassured, placing his hand over mine, while I took a large swig of wine. Looking back, I think that was the first moment I thought about kissing him. Of course I didn’t, we stayed out most of the night and then stumbled back to the hotel drunk. But I actually considered that maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad if I was dating Graham, not Alex.

October 1996

I never expected the knock at the door. It was a cold night in mid October, so when I opened the door wearing only a large t-shirt and odd socks, the biting breeze nipped at my bare legs. Graham stood there awkwardly, wrapped up in a fleece lined jacket and his eyes slightly glazed in his drunkness. I didn't ask any questions, just greeted him with a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, then invited him in.

Graham wasn't a happy man, but I myself was hardly a ray of sunshine. I sat down next to him on my old settee, lighting a cigarette and refilling my wine glass. I offered him a glass but he shook his head.

"What's up Gra?" I asked him softly, reaching out to cover his hand with my own. He let out a dejected sigh.

"I can't do it anymore (y/n)," he explained. "The band. I'm starting to hate them all. The press, the tours, the people. It's way too fucking much. Damon won't change the music we do, he's being a controlling bastard, and then Alex, fuck." Graham pulled at his earlobe, something I noticed him do often when he was feeling nervous or stressed.

"What is it?"

"He's out living his playboy lifestyle, shagging around, doing lines, drinking champagne. Meanwhile, you just sit around pretending like everything is fine!"

I dropped my hand from his. I wasn't ready for this criticism, especially not from a man who was currently drunk every second of his life.

"It is fine, Gra."

"No it's not, because he barely gives you a backwards glance when he goes out and I have to watch it," he complained. He turned to me, looking over my face like he was drinking it in. "I think you're so beautiful."

"What?"

"So, so fucking beautiful," he repeated. Graham was bad at eye contact, but right now he was drunk, and looking at me with such a sinful look in his gaze. He glanced over my lips, and the small flip in my stomach as he did was my only sign. There had been moments over the past year where Graham and I had shared similar glances, but neither of us acted on impulse, until now.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. Immediately his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and as he deepened the kiss I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He assisted my movements, pulling it off to fall lazily on the floor.

His hand travelled down to my underwear, tucking a finger beneath the waistband of my knickers, pausing to see if I stopped him. I did, but only to pull his t-shirt over his head. I had seen Graham without a shirt before, but now I took in his lithe physique and broad shoulders. He slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I gasped at his touch and he leant down to brush his lips against my ear.

“You turn me on so much,” he whispered honestly, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them up. I moaned into his neck, pressing a kiss against it. Alex never really bothered with foreplay so this felt like heaven. After a minute he pulled his fingers out to push me down against the sofa, as I pulled him into another hungry kiss. He pushed his hips against mine and I let out another soft moan while he smiled into the kiss. Soon the desperation over took us and I fumbled with his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes before he pulled my t-shirt over my head, drinking in my body.

For a second he tucked his hands into my hair, holding my face behind my ears and stroking me cheeks with his thumb, before kissing me playfully on the nose. He pushed himself inside me with a slight groan, watching my face as I let out a satisfied sigh. I felt so appreciated, the way he looked at me was so tender. Unlike my day to day misery with Alex, this felt so raw, so right. He cupped one of my breasts with his hand, kneading it gently as he softly kissed and nipped at my neck. I felt sweat beading along my thighs, pressed into his body as we lay on the sofa, fully naked with the exception of our socks. He picked up the pace, and I could tell he was trying to control his urge to finish as quickly as possible. He rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb, causing me to let out an unexpectedly loud moan as I clenched around him and my body shook. This brought him over the edge and he finished inside of me with a string of swears. He looked at me slightly panicked.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, and I laughed, nodding, still out of breath and thrumming from my orgasm. He rested his forehead against my own and we lay there for a moment, panting, letting it register what had just occurred. I didn’t feel guilty at all, although I could tell Graham did. Alex had said so many things to me now that I couldn’t feel regret for sleeping with his friend, not when the moment was so sweet. Then he seemed to be pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, standing up and looking for his boxers. “I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t the plan.” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

“The plan? What was the plan?” I asked.

“I was going to tell you I love you, but you weren’t supposed to... You were going to tell me to piss off and then I could lay it to rest. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” He pulled his boxers up and started looking for his jeans, but I reached out for his hand, pulling him round to look at me. I was still naked, knees drawn up to my chest on the sofa. I saw his eyes soften, his behaviour calm.

“Gra, I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded, my voice coming out a lot quieter than i intended. Alex and I had had another argument, and I was already feeling so lost until Graham showed up.

He paused, looking at out two hands together. I held my breath, waiting for his response. I needed him to make the irresponsible decision. Eventually, he nodded, and I nipped to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I came back in, clean and wearing a t-shirt and knickers, Graham had settled on the settee with the telly on, he’d also pulled his t-shirt on. I came to sit next to him, and he rested his head on my chest slightly while I began to run my fingers through his hair and he hummed contentedly. The show was boring, a late night crime drama. Within a few minutes Graham was snoring softly on my chest. I sipped my wine and smiled to myself.

November 1996

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Graham rolled over with a groan of pleasure, panting with sweat on his brow. I turned on my side to face him and he pulled a stupid face, still lying on his back. I let out a sigh and turned over, away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, moving closer and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder. One of his large hands rested on my waist and I suppressed the urge to sniffle.

“We don’t love each other though do we?” I said rhetorically.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, if we loved each other, then I’d leave Alex and you’d stop drinking so much.” I felt so bad saying it, but it was true. Even as Graham arrived in a better mood today, there was still an alcoholic taste on his tongue. We’d been seeing each other for over a month, and I knew I wasn’t breaking up with Alex any time soon.

“Maybe you’re right, but still, it feels nice to say, doesn’t it?” he pointed out, nuzzling his head into my neck as he ran his hand round to lay against my stomach, pulling my back closer to his chest.

Sometimes it felt like Alex must have known about me and Graham’s relationship, because he suddenly changed last month. Of course, we still argued. He still enjoyed champagne and cocaine and plenty of women, but god he was good at apologising. After arguments he’d always pull off the perfect apology. He’d me out to an expensive restaurant and completely overlook every gorgeous woman there. He’d make a point of telling the waitress that he must be the stupidest man on earth to have an argument with his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ and would try and show me off to every person in the room. Sometimes his apologies were less flashy, sometimes they came in the form of a home cooked croque monsieur in the morning, and kisses all over my face. Alex had the ability to make me feel both completely worthless and wonderfully special, but when he made me feel so special the guilt always tainted my mood.

In fact, it was at this moment a knock came at the door. I sat up in slight panic. Graham looked at me in confusion.

“It must be Alex,” I told him in a hushed voice.

“Shit.”

The knock came again. I pulled on a shirt from the cupboard, padding through my flat to the living room.

“Hey, (y/n). I know your home,” he said through the door.

“Can you come back later, Al?” I asked, doing up a couple of the buttons. “There’s someone here at the minute.”

“No, just open the door,” he persisted. I sighed, walking over and unlocking it. I stood there in a just the oversized shirt and some underwear I’d pulled on. My bedroom door was shut, Alex wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t know who was in there.

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said slightly exasperated.

“Fucking hell, you look good,” he grinned, looking me up and down before pushing his way past to get into my flat.

“Hey, don’t come in!” I protested.

“It’s fine, love. I left my keys somewhere here, I just came to grab them,” Alex replied, going into the kitchen and picking them up off the side. He walked into the living, cheeky smile on his face. “Hey, can I say hello to whoever is in there?” he teased, stepping towards my bedroom door. I rushed forward, pushing him away while he teasingly stood his ground.

“No you cannot, it’s weird. If I come into yours while someone’s there you look like a philanderer, but when you come here guys think you’re my pimp or something,” I argued, managing to get him across the room toward the front door.

“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed, dropping his hands to around my waist. “Kiss goodbye?” he requested in a silly voice, tilting his head to the side. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. He pressed his lips to mine for a moment, dropping his hand to squeeze my arse jokingly, and I pulled away to give him a lighthearted smack on the arm and hurrying him out the flat.

When I walked back into my room, Graham was still nestled beneath the duvet, his head poking over the top.

January 1997

"You have to be joking, right?" came the surprised voice of Blur's bassist. Alex was stood in the doorway of a backroom at Groucho's. His pupils were like goddamn dinner plates, as per usual, but for once he was acting surprisingly sober for someone so off their tits. We'd been caught, and as Alex cast a disbelieving look between myself and his bandmate my heart dropped down into the bottom of my stomach.

I had been dating Alex James for just about two years, and had known him for four, and although our relationship wasn't defined as such, it was a rather open one. This, however, seemed to be a breach of our agreement. This wasn't a random person, or even a distant friend, this was Graham.

When Alex had walked in, he'd come across a scene that was a little bit more than over friendly. The guitarist had his hand underneath my skirt and was kissing my neck while we laughed drunkly. Of course, then came the interruption, and we had jumped apart at the arrival of my boyfriend. I sat awkwardly, chewing my lip, feeling like a naughty school kid. Nobody spoke. It was difficult to know what to say. There was no chance of convincing him it was less than he thought, I'm sure our guilty faces spoke volumes. After a pause that went on for way too long, I tried to speak up.

"Al-" I began to reason but my voice was cut of.

"No," he interjected. "I can't fucking believe it. You're my mate, Gra. You're in the band. Of course, the quiet, sweet one. Works for you doesn't it? 'Cause this whole time you've been fucking my girlfriend," Alex snapped. I saw Graham look down, his jaw clenched slightly. I wanted to reach for his hand but I knew it wasn't the time.

"Alex,” I warned but he scoffed at me.

"Piss off with that, (Y/N)," he scolded with an incredulous laugh. "Get your stuff from my place tomorrow, but don't come too early 'cause I'm bringing home that blonde girl from the bar tonight," he told me harshly, leaving the room, probably to go practice his lines in the bathroom.

I sat back down next to Graham, my frown mirroring his. I tipped my head onto his shoulder, and he pulled me into him with a comforting arm. It was difficult to pin down my feelings, although guilt was the presiding one. I felt especially guilty for not finding the ability to care that Alex had just split up with me. I felt tears prick my eyes, unable to stop myself from crying. Graham tilted his head to me, brushing the tears from underneath my eyes with his thumb, and pressing a kiss onto my forehead. I tried to pull him in for a kiss, to distract myself from my current feelings, but he turned his head away.

“Now’s not the time,” he told me gently.

February 1997

I didn’t expect to still accompany the boys on the American tour, in fact, I was aware Alex had greatly argued against it, but Ivan had insisted. I was under contract to the record label and familiar with the set up and how the band liked things. I rather have stayed in London to be honest.

Before we left, Blur released their self titled album, kicking it off with a 'secret' gig at the Astoria to a sold out crowd of two thousand people. The mood was so elevated, all tensions seemed to be erased. A huge after party went down. It was packed with Britpop royalty and went completely out of hand. That night I even stupidly assumed that things would go back to normal, water under the bridge.

I only listened to the album two days later. It was totally different to anything they'd done before. I recognised the influence of the underground bands Graham listened to, although the tone seemed slightly ironic. The album seemed fast paced, but then, halfway through the album came an unexpected softer number, Graham's soft voice coming into my living room through a layer of crackly voice effects. The first verse was despairing. I knew Graham was struggling with his alcohol, but I'd been doing so awfully myself that I didn't even realise how bad it had gotten. It was the chorus that really ruined me though; heartwrenchingly honest and bitterly optimistic. I didn't care if he'd written it about me or not, but that last line hit me somewhere deep in my heart and put tears in my eyes. By the time the song had ended I was a sniffling mess on my living room floor and brimming with such a strong sense of love.

We left to France two days later. The crew were acting strange with me. Everyone knew that I’d now slept with two members of the band, and there was lots of implication I was going to try a third. Damon was acting well off with me and usually I found myself sat with Graham receiving glares from both Damon and Alex. We had to go through Paris and then Tokyo before we arrived in the US at the beginning of March. Things were okay when we all got drunk enough, the boys tended to forget about my crimes against the band. We did sing alongs at our hotels. Alex got a bit arsey when Graham fell asleep with his head in my lap in Tokyo, but he’d happily bring girls to drink with us and happily snog them while I was sat there. I didn’t mind, the part of me that cared was so easy to shut off now.

I loved Japan, and the Japanese loved Blur. Damon was particularly popular with his blond hair, blue eyes and pretty face. The reception at the airport was always brilliant. There would always be a crowd of teenage girls desperate for a signature off their favourite band member, I think one of the Gallaghers already said it, but it was like a second wave Beatlemania. I usually sat back with Ivan, watching the boys deal with their fans, especially Graham. While Alex and Damon used a charming smile, Gra always seemed so unsure what he was doing was right. It was very endearing. I wanted to stay as far away from fame as possible.

Me and Alex’s breakup was extremely high profile. Of course, why we split up was a public mystery, only adding to interest levels. We kept our relationship fairly private, although I had experienced the odd incident with paparazzi, but the Blur management team saw great opportunity for promotion with our split. I was hounded by music journalists for weeks, and photos of me suddenly started appearing all over the gossip magazines. As much as I didn’t want to be stuck on tour with Alex, I had to say it was a relief to leave it behind.

Graham still came to my hotel room late at night, but for both of our sakes he left way before the sun rose. That part was the hardest, when he climbed out of bed to get dressed and leave. I’d watch him put on his clothes, peeking my head over the bedsheets and not speaking. He’d press a kiss to my forehead and tiptoe out the room, back to his own. Then I was alone. I think that fear of being alone was what kept me from ending things with Alex, because staring up at the ceiling after Graham left was the most saddening feeling in the world. I couldn’t say I love you to him anymore, even if I did. When I was still with Alex, it was just a phrase, but then it had become an empty promise. I was far too scared to bear my soul to him like that. I think it upset him slightly, when I wouldn’t say it back, but he never mentioned it.

It was moments like that, lying alone in bed and feeling totally isolated, with nothing but the rushing thoughts in my head, that I would have given anything for Alex to burst into my room and pick a fight with me again. Sometimes I wanted him to loose his temper, to see me across the room and to shout at me, to call me names. His willing acceptance of the situation hurt me most. His ability to move on like it was nothing.

March 1997

Things went downhill once we arrived in America. Everyone was jet lagged from the flight and we were mainly travelling around on a tour bus. Being in such close confines did have a habit of getting on everyone’s nerves. I was sharing a tour bus with some other sound technicians, which was a nightmare. I was the only woman on tour, and every morning I got up an hour before everyone else so I could get dressed without being stared at by a group of blokes. Unfortunately, I was also going to bed in the early hours of the morning anyway, so I was feeling twice as exhausted as usual.

Suddenly, Alex seemed a whole lot more pissed at me than before. Any time Graham and I were even in the same room, he would glare until one of us left. He couldn't help but leave snide comments.

The other issue with being on tour was privacy. I barely got a second alone with Graham. Damon had walked in on one of our few opportunities, while Graham had his head between my legs, and aside from it being very embarrassing, since the incident Damon had been twice as off with me as ever before. Eventually, Graham and I settled for cuddles and conversation, this seemed to cause the least tension.

One night in Detroit, we all went out to a bar. I found in America all anyone ever wanted to know was 'what you did'. Of course, this was in reference to career, but I'd recently found entertainment in replying "nothing much". I spoke to lots of American's, receiving regular compliments on my accent. We drank lots, Alex ended up taking a very attractive blonde girl to the tour bus, leaving the rest of us to continue our evening by drinking enough to knock out an elephant. At one point I wobbled outside for a cigarette and some fresh air.

I stood by the back door and the bins, inhaling the smoke and letting the cold sober me slightly. Then, a very drunk Damon stumbled out the pub, proceeding to bend over by the wall and vomit onto the floor and his trainers. I rushed over, putting a hand on his back and trying to shuffle his feet away to avoid where he was being sick. He finished throwing up and swatted me away.

"Piss off (y/n)," he slurred. "It's your fault it's like this." I stepped back, surprised at his words.

"What?"

"You cocked everything up!" he whined, leaning against the wall for support. "You broke Alex's heart, and now he's mad at Gra, and now Gra's in love with you and you're going to hurt him. Fucking hell, (y/n), look at him! Can't you see what it'd do to him!"

I couldn't help it. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past month, tears prickled my eyes. I never usually cried, but now all my emotions lay very close to the surface.

"I don't want to hurt Graham, Dames. I never wanted to ruin anything," I sniffled, taking a drag from my cigarette to try to calm my wavering voice. "I love Gra, I really do, it's just... complicated."

Damon's eyes softened slightly, and then he fell over into his own sick.

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter four: "Hurt"

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

[parkers-gal]

Hello!

Could you do a Psychiatrist!Y/n and Tom Holland where they are together and the russo brothers assigned Dr.Y/n to be their mental health coach for all of the actors and actresses in Cherry especially Tom and Ciara and one day Tom just have major breakdown after shooting a scene where he just let go like act like Nico and think like Nico and Y/n and Tom went to have a one on one talk🥺and tom be like: you are so good to me🥺and during the press interview (The iconic yellow shirt;)) Tom mentioned his girlfriend on how helpful she is to him to the entire production and sending heart eyes as well and million of fans where like swoon over their relationship:) Sorry its long🤣

Thank you for accepting and writing it❣️💖

requests are open

wc: 1k

—

“Alright everyone, really quickly,” Anthony, one of the Russo brothers, quieted the set of people, crew members and actors focusing their attention on both the directors and the woman behind them. “I’m sure you’ve all read the email I mass-sent to you all, but I’d like to introduce our Psychiatrist, Dr. Y/N L/N.” He gestured to you, and you waved to the people looking at you, slightly intimidated. “She’ll be helping through the entirety of production, so let’s give her a warm welcome!” You heard them say, “Hi, Y/N,” and you assumed the Russos did such a thing with every guest. 

You stepped forward, straightening out your shirt. “Hi, I’m Dr. L/N. Feel free to just refer to me as my first name. I’ll be here if anyone is having a hard time or… needs a bit of therapy or needs to relieve some stress.” 

You saw a few people nod, and you turned back to Joe with a tight smile, excusing yourself as you went off of the set. You wanted to set up in the trailer they’d given you.

You’d read the script. It was harsh, it was heavy, but it was real. That’s what made it human. You knew the actors probably wouldn’t warm up to your offers at first, but eventually they’d be coming in. It was typical in most of your patients, you had noticed. Denial played a big role in receiving help. You hoped, though, that they wouldn’t come in too late. 

**

It had been about two weeks since your first introduction. You were on set, taking notes of how people acted, picking apart their every move and their habits. What you didn’t expect, however, was someone to come to you so soon. 

It was mid afternoon, and you were sitting in your trailer, getting some work done online, when someone had rung your work phone. Picking it up, you heard the frantic voice of one of the Russo brothers, informing you they had halted filming for the next hour or so. They’d sent someone to your room, and you could only wonder who it was. 

When you heard a very timid knock, you opened the door to see the star of the film himself, Tom. You smiled, inviting him. 

“Hey, Tom,” you sat down, and he sat on the couch beside your small table. “Everything alright.”

He nodded, seemingly in thought, and you gave him the space to flutter as he pleased, allowing him to open up at his own pace. He was grateful for that — that you were more considerate than you would be if you were strictly following rules. 

“I’ve just been…” his voice was rough and delicate, scratching and quite damp. “Having a really hard time.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve been talking to so many veterans and people with addictions and I’ve just-” he sighed, hands rubbing his face and going over his head. “I’ve been so exhausted.”

You saw a tear slip and set your clipboard down. Moving to sit beside him, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close in comfort. 

“I just feel like I’m turning into him.” He breathed out, gasping between breaths as he tried to slow his tears. 

“You will never be him,” you looked him straight into the eyes. “You’re so strong, Tom. I’ve seen you these past few weeks and- I’m honestly surprised you didn’t come sooner. I can see how much of a fighter you are, how in control of your mind and your headspace you are. And that’s good,” he let out a few more tears, looking down to his lap, and you pulled him closer. “You’re doing so good.”

He nodded, hand running over his buzzed head. “No yeah, I know,” his voice was so broken, rasping beyond belief. “I’m terrified of becoming him- of… of losing who I am.”

You nodded. “It’s hard,” you agreed. “Just because you can handle it doesn’t mean you’re not going to have rough patches. It’s okay to have breakdowns like today. We know what you have to do and what you have to go through for this role,” you lifted his chin, swallowing. “Days like this are going to happen, and you don’t need to be sorry.”

The two of you sat in each other’s embrace for a few minutes after that, silence settling in the trailer. 

“You’re so good to me,” he sighed out, and you shook your head. 

“You deserve the best, Tom.”

With all the time the two of you ended up spending together during production, a relationship had sprouted. He’d confided in you for basically everything, not just Cherry-related problems. He trusted you, and he was certain he loved you. It had only been a few months, and he didn’t want to scare you off, but he still knew. 

Press had started, from home of course. Over the course of quarantine, the two of you had gone public with your relationship, occasionally sharing a few pictures. He was in an interview now, smiling in his seat, a yellow-golden shirt fitted on his chest. You were sitting in the corner, out of the view of the camera. 

“How hard was it to differentiate your headspace? Between Cherry, with such a dark persona, and you yourself. Was it difficult to keep it out of your personal mindset?”

“Uhm,” he crossed his arms, biceps buff. “Well, it was definitely difficult. There were days on set where I’d just- I’d snap and I’d go up to the Russos and be like ‘Hey, sorry about that.’ And they’d say ‘Dude, you’re playing a drug addict. It’s gonna happen,’” he laughed wholeheartedly. “But, I’d say we had really great support. My girlfriend was such a huge factor in keeping me in the right headspace through all of this.” 

“Your girlfriend is a…. Psychiatrist, right?”

Tom nodded with a smile, “Yeah, she is.” He glanced at you when he replied, a small grin on his face as he watched you from afar. He was grinning like a madman when you stared back, and you giggled, waving at him in a silly manner. He waved back, momentarily forgetting he was on camera, and you tried not to laugh too loudly. 

“Is she in the room with you?”

Tom’s head snapped back to the monitor and he laughed, a blush coating his cheeks. “Yeah, she is,” he scratched his neck. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he did the same. You were sure twitter was going to have a fit tonight. 

[riofann]

Rio Random 4

Things got a lot better after that, to your surprise. But you had both decided that you were basically going to do a redo and actively  work on your relationship. It was a bit difficult at first. But you felt better when you saw Mick removing drugs from your house. He also got you a security system that you could look at from your phone to see who has been in and around the house. You didn’t smell Beth around your house as often either. You actually didn't hear much about Beth, as far as you were concerned things were being dealt with.   

Rio would stop by two times a week at least on top of dates breakfast, lunch, brunch, dinner, or dessert. He was a romantic at heart actually, you would find flowers at home or at work sitting on your desk. He often used to look at you and smile which made you blush. You also met Marcus and Rhea one night at a state fair. Rhea was like Rio, hard to read you could see why the two ended up together. All together your relationship was far from perfect but you could honestly say you were happy. 

One late afternoon you rushed home from work. Rio had sent you a text saying he had left a present for you. He often did this when he found lingerie that he liked and wanted you to wear it. Some dates he had dressed you from head to toe, others he provided the undergarments. Not that your taste was bad but he enjoyed doing this. 

When you open the door to your home you hear voices coming from the bottom of your house before you could turn around and walk away you come face to face with a strange woman. 

“Uh hi” Ruby greets uneasily 

“Who are you?” You ask 

“Uh Krystal”

Quickly Beth comes around the corner “Oh Y/N I was just ummm....”

You close your door now pissed, what are you doing in my house. Mick had moved all the drugs from your home, Rio had promised you nothing was left in your house. You looked around to see your house in disarray before turning your attention back to Beth  and these other women.

“Oh well Rio wanted me to drop off something”

“Did he? Inside my house? He doesn’t even have a key, so how’d you get in?” 

“Well Mick helped with that” “Okay what are you dropping off” 

“Uh,” “Right let me just give him a call I’m sure he would love to hear about this”

“NO! Let's not bother him you know he is busy right Be... be be because he wouldn't like that right Krys?” Annie interjects

“Or should I call the police?”

Without warning Beth pulled out her gun and pointed it at you

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked in horror 

“Alright Sit” she says motioning with the gun 

“Are you gonna tell me what you're doing here in my house Elizabeth?”

Instinctively the two women looked at her as she looked shocked as well “How did you?” 

“Elizabeth Boland, you have  5 children with your ex husband Dean right? Used to be a stay at home wife? Did I get that right?” 

“SIT!” she demands “No, what are you gonna do? shoot me?”

“SIT!” she turns to look at Annie and Ruby before turning her attention back to you “Who told you?” 

“Oh uh Mrs. Doubtfire...  Yea i was stopping by to give you that book i borrowed and she said there was no such thing as Krystal had no idea what i was talking about then she told me everything”

“That damn woman” 

“SIT!” 

“NO!  If you're gonna point a gun at me then I expect you to shoot.” 

Ruby tugs at her arm “Beth lets just go” “NO ITS HERE” she yells while yanking her arm back  “you think you are so special, that's what he does you know. Make you feel special then he just dumps you like you're nothing!”

“But I’m not you Beth, and i'm not Rio, so whatever you're looking for its not here and whatever beef you have take it up with him”

“I SAID SIT!” 

“I'm not deaf i don't know why you're yelling” 

“Beth” Annie tries to calm the situation Beth with a bewildered look turns to look at Annie “NO!”

“This is bad” Ruby comments 

“You can't just threaten her life because of some guy....Beth” Annie states  

“I am not all I need her to do is sit Annie!....I know that it’s here it just has to be...” 

As they argued within themselves you felt like it was the perfect opportunity to sneak away as you got close to the door. You turned abruptly to open it when you heard commotion followed by  sharp pain on your side, you looked down to see blood seeping through your clothes. You slowly fall to the floor back resting against the wall. 

“OH MY GOD BETH!” “SHE WAS GETTING AWAY” she defends “HE IS GOING TO KILL US” Annie states looking at her sister like she had 5 heads “I’M SO SORRY Y/N” she says rushing towards you 

“YOU BITCH” You kick her in the chest causing her to fall back, you groan and hold onto your side 

“This isn't good please don't kick me none of this was supposed to happen” Ruby says slowly crouching down next to you

“Put pressure on it” Annie instructs

“I need towels!” 

“It's gonna be okay” Ruby tries her best to sooth you “I can't believe you” 

“I didn't” Beth says while holding onto your wound

Annie rushed back with towels in hand

“Uh guys we have to take her to the hospital” You don’t know when it happens but you start to fade away “Y/N! Can you stand?” “Y/N!” Annie calls your name “she's not... Y/N stay awake 

“What's wrong with you?” Ruby scolds

“What? Ruby..” 

“Why are you trigger happy”

“It was an accident, help me get her in the car!” 

“Well we can't go out the front door”

“Then help me get her through the fucking back door Annie”

“Oh my god” Annie says throwing her hands up 

When 30 minutes pass Rio is beyond infuriated with you. You were not picking up his calls or answering his texts and from what he knew you were at home.He doesn’t  know why you flaked on him, he thinks you were in a drunken slumber wondering how you got back into it, you had shown signs of improvement. 

When he gets to your house however he opens the door, he hears Coconut’s barking and he immediately spots the pool of blood by the door

“Go find her is all he needs to say to Mick”  

He walks through your home, there were multiple holes cut in your walls, holes in the cushion seat on the couch, furniture overturned. When he walks into the bedroom everything is in disarray just like the living area. Carefully he walks down the steps and spots your bag. He thinks you were ambushed. His mind goes into overdrive and is thinking of who would have the gull to do such a thing as far as he was concerned everyone knew enemy wise especially in this line of business that children and wives/girlfriends were out of the question. So whoever had the gull to do such a thing was bold and he’s wondering who it could be. He makes a few calls before he’s sitting in front of your laptop trying to log in. another phone call and he’s given the password. When he looks through the security footage nothing but rage takes over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After pacing the floor in silence Ruby explodes with emotion “He is going to kill us!” 

“He doesn't know where we are” Beth counters

“I have a child Beth and I need to call Stan and let him know what’s going on!” 

“So do I Ruby, I have 5 to be exact,  he wont do anything she's just a placeholder anyway”

Ruby looks at her in disbelief “Are you kidding me he broke up with YOU to be with HER she is no placeholder”

“She's not special he can find another woman  like her anytime soon” Beth states dismissively 

“Beth i don't like this you need to call him and tell him it was a  mistake” Annie jumps into the conversation 

“Relax he doesn't know where we are he’s not stupid plus Dean will throw his ass in jail”

Putting her hands up Ruby states “I can’t believe you” before she walks away A brief moment of silence before Beth’s phone starts ringing

When they all look at the phone only unknown flashes through the screen after the 5th time the screen is black for good

“Elizabeth please for our sake just tell him” Ruby pleads “we can’t be hidden forever” 

“NO! Now shut up and let me think!” 

“Or what you're gonna shoot me” Ruby expresses frustrated 

“It was an accident!” 

Ruby scoffs, “Like shooting him too? I'm starting to think you’re trigger happy”

“Don't start accusing me you shot someone in the foot!” 

“That was an accident! We all know it was, but you just can't let this life go huh. You can't let this power go so whoever stands in your way you're gonna get rid of them” 

Beth walked up to Ruby looking at her right in the eye “You're right so move out of my way” she didn't have time to be arguing with her so if that meant intimidating her she would. 

Annie quickly got between the two and separated them. “Guys i cant right now please not now, i can't deal with this, we just need to stick together” 

Beth was right Rio couldn't locate them at first but he had found you. You were in the surgical icu stabilizing after your surgery. Because you were considered a Jane Doe no one was really allowed to see you, but Rio had his connections and he walked in to see you fast asleep before walking out. He says nothing as Mick drives him over to Beth’s house. Nothing was out of the ordinary except Beth was missing. He also had other cars posted outside of Ruby’s house and Annie's. 

“Aii bet” he hangs up the phone irritated that no one could locate Beth, she had become a protégé, so good at hiding things from him now. 

"You gon’ have to get rid of her” Mick states before looking at Rio,  “She shot you, planned your assassination," he scoffs "stolen, sabotaged, lied, how much more you gon let her get away with"

“I cant get rid of her, if i do i gotta deal with the other 2, not to mention the stupid ass husbands that's almost 10 kids in foster care, too much heat its bad for business now anyway, plus I'm still under the microscope cuz of Turner” 

“Both can’t co exist  though, so you either with Beth or you with Y/N.”

“Fuck me”

“Gotta make a move boss”

“Ima figure something out” 

It takes 2 days but he finally locates them. Abruptly woken from their sleep and thrown in a van they find themselves in an unknown place, kneeling in front of him, with plastic bags underneath them. 

“Please i have children” Beth tries to plead her case 

Rio’s shoulders roll back before he speaks “Nah see you can’t keep doing that mama, you can't keep provoking me and asking for mercy cuz you got kids.”

“I'm a mother, they need their mother!”

“Please Rio” Ruby interjects 

“See that's the problem, I hoped you being a mother, you would actually be more careful but I get it now. You just wanna be reckless and use me as your cover. Shoot me 3 times it's my fault. Steal my fault, lie my fault, plot to kill me my fault" his shoulders roll "what was Y/N’s fault why you shoot her?" Already knowing the answer he wanted to see what she would  say 

"She knows my name I know you told her"

"She's my girl"

"Right just like I was but unlike her you can't replace me you need me!” 

"Humor me Beth, are you jealous?" 

Beth scoffs “of what?"  

"Y/N"

She scoffs again "you wish! You probably get off knowing 2 women want you" 

He licks his bottom lip and smiles. It takes a minute before he speaks “So what should i do with you, all of you? I know I’m tired of this game, we’ve been playing it for too long. Aint y’all tired of wondering if im gon kill you?” He asks addressing Annie and Ruby

“Please I promise to walk away” Annie offers 

“Annie shut up!” Beth scolds 

“NO! YOU SHUT UP BETH GOD YOU ARE SELFISH! ALWAYS HAVE BEEN!” 

“Annie I’m trying to....” Before she can finish she stops after she hears her phone ringing  

Rio looks down at the phone “Talk it out I gotta take this call” he says before walking away 

The girls don’t say anything but look at each other. When they see him return Beth comments “I got this let me speak.” waiting for him to sit down before she begins “You can’t kill us and you know it. So you can run back to your little girlfriend and kiss her wound and tell her she's special and I'll go back to doing my thing” she says snidely Both Annie and Ruby looked at her shocked.

“She is, it could have been you but the 3 bullets kinda changed my mind”

“OH MY GOD! Can you let that go!”

“I did then I found out you hired a hitman and some kid to shoot me. Things change all the time between us,  you know this”

“So what are you gonna do? Because we have work to do”

“I know.” He nods at the men behind them. The zip ties are cut before he walks away “I’ll see you around yea?”

When he leaves they all look at each other shocked that he even let them walk away. They remain in that position until all the men leave. 

“See I told you!”

“I can’t do this Beth you need some serious help and I’m not willing to wager my family as collateral for it”  Ruby states “It worked” “For you! Not for us, you think it's just a one woman show where you do everything? Like your actions don’t have any effect on our lives'' “Ruby it worked I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it” “Yea well better that than you” 

Annie interjects once again  before things get heated “Guys can we just figure out how to get home”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what now?” Mick asks frustrated with the whole thing. “She still working for you?”  he knew the pattern all too well Beth would do something to get back at Rio 

“Nah we moving, leaving Michigan, getting new headquarters. She wanna run the business? Cool, but no protection, no muscle, no supply of weapons, no connections, yea she can print money but she can’t operate or deal, not without me. Make sure everyone knows if they entertain her they are dead. I don’t care what it is if I find out I’m putting a bounty on your head. She right though I can’t kill her but i can kill her business” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days but when you regain consciousness in the hospital you see one of Rio’s men at least you’re assuming he is sitting by you. You two don’t speak and you go back to sleep. The next day police stop by to question you about your shooting, you tell them the story Rio’s guy told you, a home invasion gone wrong. They leave satisfied with the explanation. Rio comes to visit a few days after  you have been moved to a step down unit that was more private.

The door opens and you watch as he walks in “Rio”

Hey mama he approaches you with hands behind his back and as he gets closer a cute teddy bear that has ‘get well soon on it’ 

“How you feeling?”  he asks taking a seat next to you on the bed 

“I got shot” you state factually

“You got shot” he says moving the hair from your face 

“Where have you been? The cops came to see me”

“I know they stopped by, I was handling something. Did you tell them what Honcho told you to say?”

“Yes” 

He smiles and looks at you with a face you can’t quite read

“So where is she?” 

You were hoping he would say dead in a ditch somewhere or something along the lines of ‘you never have to worry about her’ but what he said made you more angry

“At home”

“She's alive?”

“Yea” 

You roll your eyes, was she gonna be thorn on your side for the rest of your life with Rio? “But she won’t bother you” “Yea said that last time and now i have a bullet hole on my side that says otherwise” “Nah she won’t be able to reach you this time cuz we leaving, after you get discharged” 

“What? You want me to move?” 

“Yea,we can...”  You interrupt "There's no we anymore, you're like a bad omen. In less than a year since  i met you I get shot and now i have a bullet wound because of your unhinged ex that you couldn't keep in check and you still think there's a 'we' " 

“I told you,” he runs his hand down his chin “i asked you to be patient” he speaks softly 

“Be patient, meant with you! So you could change not ‘be patient, my crazy ex who i can't control will shoot you months from now but i still need you to understand” you say sarcasm laced in your tone 

“Y/N” “You told me to treat you like any other guy on the street, so I am. We are done!” 

“You can't stay here” he stresses “Why not?” “Beth isn’t my only enemy, and once she finds out my plans she will go to them for revenge” 

“So where are we going? I have a career here! Aunt Brenda and Mia, my parents, I visit their graves often”  

“They can come visit you, You can always get another job, it’s not safe for you here Y/N”

“Was it ever safe? Didn’t you have enemies before? Was I not in danger then” 

“This is different, Beth is vengeful I can’t risk it” 

“Where are we going?” 

“I can't tell you, not now I’m still figuring that out” 

“Typical” “Listen i'm packing up your house I’m gonna get you a new place in a new city you'll get a job” 

“Rio are you kidding me you want me to just up and leave?” “Yea,” he stands up and looks down at you  “it’s non negotiable, i gotta protect you, after you get discharged we leaving” 

“Protect me? From who? The only person I need protection from is you. Rein que le diable (nothing but the devil)” 

He stares at you for a moment  “get some rest” he says before kissing your forehead. He didn’t care about how you felt in the moment protecting you, Marcus, and Rhea were his top priority and he knew that always came with push back no matter who he was talking to.

A/N: as always tell me what you think. Not really a fan of this chapter didn’t know how to go around it. 

[lesbian-deadpool]

Take A Slice

Part Six: WARNING! BULLSHIT INSIDE!

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1,761

Warnings: Blackmail, a bit of angst??, some self hate, talks of drugs, aftermath of violence, talks of cheating.

Summary: It just keeps getting worse and worse.

A/N: Bold and italics = Text Messages.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

You were out of it. Completely and entirely, out of it.

The soft feeling of the red-heads plump, strawberry and sugar flavoured lips, pressing against the side of your neck. Her hand, trailing up your sides, pushing and pulling at your shirt. With Natasha humming against you gently, it vibrating into your throat, as she ground against your hips underneath her.

And yet.

Even with all that she was gifting you with, you still weren't able to focus on any of it.

"What's up with you?" Natasha asked, her red lipstick smudged, and probably all over your neck, too.

"Hmm?"

"You're out of it. What's running through that head of yours?"

"Oh." Shit. "It's nothing. Just a little distracted, is all."

"I see that." She took your jaw between her hands, soothingly rubbing her thumbs into your skin. As she gazed down at you with soft eyes. "Anything I can help with?"

God, she was too good to you. Too good for you.

And you had to bring this bullshit into her life. Sometimes you wished that you had never stepped foot in her class, that way this, could have all been avoided. And all because of those fucking texts you got, two weeks ago.

You had to tell her.

You had too.

"Nope." You shook your head.

You suck.

"You sure?" Natasha asked, a humoured smile overtaking her face, "You still having trouble spelling, 'Nietzsche'?"

"His name sucks, okay?!" you exclaimed, making laughter bellow out of Natasha.

You watched her with soft eyes, you adored her laugh. Adored her everything, really. Her hair, falling over her shoulders, the sun shining through the windows, causing the red strands to glow. Summer had just sprung, almost as if it came to chase the girl in your arms.

You were playing a dangerous game.

But, you knew that from the start.

Now, though? Now? It was more dangerous than before.

Because now you were falling for her.

And that was not going to lead to anything good.

Not with all that is happening.

"His name is hard to spell," Natasha agreed breathlessly, with a small nod.

Dread filled you when your phone suddenly buzzed beside you.

Remember what I said.

Natasha noticed the anxiety flood into you, she was worried about you, never seeing you like this. Staring at your phone with fear-filled eyes.

Lucky for you though, she was unable to read any of the messages that had been sent to you.

Nor the next one's that came through.

You know when and where.

Do. Not. Be. Late.

You inhaled sharply, eyes finally finding Natasha's worried ones when you spoke.

"I'm sorry. I have to go."

"What? Why?" she asked, having to move off of you before you ended up pushing her off of you.

"Y/N? Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Just-" Quick think of a lie! "-Wade reminded me about a test we both have tomorrow. And I haven't studied for it at all."

Natasha got up with a chuckle, moving to place her hands upon your chest.

"You have always been on top of your studies, haven't you?"

You shrugged, too busy pulling on your socks and shoes, whilst trying to locate your jacket. You were going to need it tonight when it was chilly.

"Hey," Natasha soothed, "Don't worry so much. Why don't you stay here? I'll help you study. I'll even reward you every time you get a question right."

You groaned internally.

Why did she have to go and say shit like that?

"I'm sorry, babe. I'd love that. I really would," you pressed as if to make her understand how much you were telling the truth, as you pulled her in by her hip, "But I promised Wade, we would study together. He's worse at this class than I am."

She laughed breathlessly.

"You two really are the dynamic duo, aren't you?"

It was quiet for a moment, as you moved away from her. Ready to head out of her apartment, when she continued.

"You could always bring him, too."

"What?!" You span around to face her.

"Obviously the "rewards" would be off the table, then. But I would love to meet your friends. At least your best friend. I want to be in your life like people in more normal relationship's do. As long as they keep the secret."

Why was she so fucking perfect.

"But Nat, you've already met Wade, remember?"

She licked her lips with a smile. Memories of that morning, and what lead up to it, flashing through her mind.

"Of course, I remember. I meant I would like to get to know him."

"God. You are perfect." You walked up to her, pulling her into a passionate, love-filled kiss. "I'll set something up later. He'll probably want to play some video games with you."

"Fine by me. I'll kick his ass."

"I'm sure you will, honey." With a peck on her forehead, you turned, grabbing your jacket, calling over your shoulder as you left, "I'll see you soon."

"Good luck."

She didn't know how much you needed it.

***

Rumlow.

That fucker.

He was the one doing all of this to you. Blackmailing you. Forcing you to pick up and drop off drugs, like a fucking mule.

And there wasn't even a reason you could think of as to why he was doing it. Other than "he could".

The only reason you found out was, thanks to the guy you were dropping the drugs off too, was really chatty. And wouldn't keep his mouth shut about anything. That, sadly, included every intimate detail about his sex life.

But at least now, you could put a face to the messages.

And somebody to confront.

"Why?"

""Why" what?" you ask back. Hissing as the alcohol-soaked cotton wool ball pressed against the cut on your lip.

The itch for a smoke rattled throughout your body, hands almost shaking in your state. But you had told Natasha that you would try and cut down smoking for her, and God damn if you were, unbeknown to her, bringing this shit into her life, you could at least do this for her.

"Why did you get into a fight with Rumlow?" Wade clarified.

You took the few moments he gave you as he reached into the first aid kit to think over your answer. You debated on whether or not you should tell him the truth. After all, you hadn't even told Natasha as of yet.

But you just couldn't keep it to yourself anymore.

"He's blackmailing me."

Wade dropped the haemorrhoid cream for your black eye onto the floor, his shocked face snapping to face yours, that was still void of emotion.

"What? What do you mean that bastard's blackmailing you? What with?!"

"I'm a fucking idiot," you hissed at yourself, tears springing into your eyes. Elbows resting on your knees, as your head came to lay in the palms of your hands, "It was my idea."

"What was?" He placed a hand upon your shoulder, stood before where you sat on the kitchen worktop.

"I filmed up having sex. Nat agreed to it. But fuck, if I hadn't of brought it up..."

"Hey! Don't do that," he told you firmly, "It's not your fault that someone is using your private life against you."

You didn't reply to him. Your jaw only ticking, as you shook your head. Still kicking yourself for it.

"Does she know?"

"No," your voice was raw as you thought about your girlfriend. Your perfect girlfriend. Who didn't deserve any of this.

"You need to tell her."

"I know... I just- I just wanted to sort it out, before I ever had too. But now, that's not gonna happen."

"Because you kicked his ass? You did kick his ass, right?"

You smiled, wincing at the pain your split lip caused you.

"Hell yeah, I did." Flinching slightly, as Wade began rubbing the cream onto your bruised eye. "But no. It's not because I kicked his ass. Although that might be part of it now... he was never gonna let it end. He just wanted me to be his lapdog for a while, then run me outta Dodge."

"Lapdog how?"

You shuck your head. "I was basically his drug mule."

"Y/N-"

"It was only hookie weed, but still. I'm sure he's into funkier stuff. He was talking about cocaine with someone on the phone when I confronted him."

"And yet, you didn't share with me," he joked. It was the only thing he really could do before he sighed sadly, "He wanted you out of town?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"No idea. He just yelled at me after our fight, that he wants me outa here. That's all her was blackmailing me for. But, my best guess is that he thought he could "get some use" out of me, before then.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I have no idea. I can't let Natasha lose her job over this shit, man. She loves teaching. Said that it was all she's ever wanted to do."

"Talk to her."

"Yeah, I will soon. I just- Is it so bad that I wanna live in denial, and just be happy with her, for a little while longer?"

"No." Wade shook his head. "You're just in love."

You hummed in agreement. You seriously couldn't believe how fast you fell for that woman.

"Since when did you become so wise?"

"I've always been wise, fuck you for not seeing it."

You were incredibly lucky to have a friend like Wade Wilson. You just hoped you didn't have to leave the people you cared about behind.

Only time would tell.

But first.

First, you had to talk to Natasha.

A small smile was pulled upon your face, while you watched your best friend and roommate walk away with the first aid kit, to return it to its place in the bathroom.

Then something you came to dread happened.

Your phone vibrated.

Pack your bags and move out of the fucking state. Or I post your precious video onto the school's website.

Homepage, baby!

Bet she'd look real good up there.

Maybe there will be a porn future for her after she gets fired.

This will teach you for fucking my girlfriend.

Well, shit.

***

Take A Slice Tag List: 

@wannabe-fic-writer​, @ohfuckno​, @uglipotata72829​

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000

[charnamefic]

Kevin Can F*** Himself and The Sitcom

I am fascinated by this canon's universe, by the implications of living in a sitcom reality where there’s a non-sitcom reality when the sitcom isn’t running.

I’m taking as a given that Kevin Can F*ck Himself takes place in what truly is a sitcom-universe. I know some people consider the sitcom-style parts of the show to be Allison’s way of thinking about her life while she really lives in a more mundane universe, but frankly that’s not a theory that interests me. I have no beef with those who believe it, but I find Kevin Can F*ck Himself to be a much richer viewing experience personally if read as the off-screen adventures of an actual sitcom wife, and that’s the only reading I’m going to get invested in and theorize about.

At the beginning of the first episode I thought Allison was, on some level, aware that she was a TV character – I thought that her fantasies about living the 50's housewife advertising dream were the expression of a desire for a genre shift (that could never come) – but by the end of the episode I’d concluded that she doesn't know. I don’t think any of the characters know that they’re sitcom characters, and, as an extension of that, I don’t think any of them are aware that there are differences between the on-screen and off-screen existences they live. So what does it mean to be that one-dimensional, sitcom type of character and live under that universe’s rules for parts of your life, and transition into a rounded-out person with an active inner life at other times? What does it mean when you can’t comprehend that transition, and when the more rounded version of yourself has to tackle with who you are and what happens to you in that sitcom reality? What power of self do you have, both to be a person in your own right and to act as one free of the constraints of what the rules of a sitcom universe would demand?

What are the rules of the Kevin Can F*ck Himself universe as a sitcom?

Here's what we have to work with:

The universe is a status quo is god universe. Kevin and Allison can never move away, never not be Neil’s neighbours. We as viewers of Kevin Can F*ck Himself see what that means for the characters, how painful that stagnation is to Allison and the horrible things that have led to that consequence, but Kevin Can F*ck Himself takes place off-screen of the sitcom – on-screen, that’s just typical status-quo maintenance. Kevin and Allison can’t keep a pet, can’t add new characters to the cast or kick off old ones; at the end of the episode, nothing will have happened that will keep the sitcom from being something you can tune-in to irregularly without missing a plot-important episode.

The sitcom caters to the man-child id. Kevin can be rude and outright cruel to his wife, and he’ll never have to worry about her responding in equal kind. Kevin can accuse and humiliate and banish his best female friend, and she’ll come crawling back for re-entry into the gang, feeding him and making up for her failure to prioritize him. Kevin can fight with his best male friend, and the girls will sort it out without Kevin or Neil’s egos having to take a serious blow; it’s just a special episode where Kevin learns to express appreciation for his sidekick (at least until next episode). Kevin may be an everyman, but he will never be outshone.

The sitcom universe is simple and insular. “It seemed harmless.” It is harmless. All pain can be brushed off, all suffering passes quickly. Kevin can promise a bunch of people money he doesn’t have and trap them in his basement and not need to fear any lawsuits. Kevin can set his neighbour’s lawn on fire, and that’s fine, it really is. He can get a mailwoman deported, and once the episode’s over it’s no-one’s problem and it doesn’t indicate anything about what kind of person someone who would do that is or what values they hold. Kevin can get his wife fired, and she can’t nurse a grudge over that, can’t mention it again or have it shape their future interactions; it’s one and done. Dreams can be dashed, and by the next scene break it’s back to basics not simply because the status quo is god but because when your hopes die you get up and move on and keep acting like the paint-by-numbers character tropes you embody. The people are no more complicated than the actions. The caretaking wife can’t be truly hurt by the daily derogation she suffers from everyone who interacts with her. The next-door neighbour can’t have a fulfilling life outside of Kevin’s orbit, he can’t even complete fairly simple tasks without a leader to follow. Kevin’s dad can’t be anyone outside of being Kevin’s dad. The girl in the group cannot show an inner life or opinions or desires that conflict with her designated role. What you see is what you get, and there’s nothing you have to consider under the surface.

Kevin Can F*ck Himself has shown us that these rules only hold true on-screen in the sitcom; once the sitcom cameras aren’t on the characters anymore, the entire world shifts into something different. If we consider the on-sitcom-screen and off-sitcom-screen worlds to be like two intersecting realities, I think we have to assume that the sitcom reality is the dominant one. Events happen in the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality that are necessarily related to the sitcom reality (Allison reacting to how she’s treated when off-screen; Allison and Patty discussing events that have happened on-screen while off-screen) whereas the events in the sitcom reality occur regardless of the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality (Allison’s damaged clothes and injuries that occur off-screen aren’t noticeable on-screen; when Kevin confronts Allison and Patty, that confrontation makes sense in the sitcom universe even without the context given in the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality). If the sitcom reality is the dominant reality, that necessitates that the Kevin Can F*ck Himself reality is still influenced by the rules of the sitcom reality even when the cameras are off – if the influence can only have significant consequences in one direction, then the universe that can’t significantly influence the other can’t have anything happen in it that would have to have a notable impact on the other.

To put this to a concrete example, the marriage Allison has on-screen can affect her contentment with her life off-screen and make her want to have an affair off-screen, but – given the premise expressed above – her off-screen affair can’t unduly affect her on-screen marriage. It can’t influence her think she might be able to find a safe way to get a divorce because that would affect the status quo of the sitcom. It can’t be reflected in her on-screen interactions with Kevin because that would complicate their marriage in a manner the sitcom universe can’t bear.  

I don’t think Allison’s affair with Sam can come out on-screen in the sitcom. The sitcom everyman’s wife cheating on him isn’t what the target demographic wants. The dream of the hot wife who’ll let you get away with anything, who puts out and cleans up and cooks and boosts and takes her lumps with a smile and stands by you no matter how many times things don’t go as desired – yes! The culturally ingrained fear that your woman is cuckolding you, that you’re inadequate instead of all that she wants and needs, that you’re a fool and didn’t actually land that dream catch – no, absolutely not! It breaks the rule of catering to the man-child id, it breaks the rules of simplicity, and it breaks the rule of status quo. I think Allison will face problems with the affair – we know she will in some way from the ep 6 preview – but I suspect the issues surrounding it will be more along the lines of getting to know Jenn and discovering that she’s actually awkward but sincere and the “who really gets the hot guy” competition is way less fun when you empathize with the opposition, or having to face that the reasons she and Sam didn’t end up together back when they were teens still apply and that doing this with him now won’t make her happy. Whatever happens, I don’t think Allison’s marriage will be affected in a way that will show up in the sitcom at all. So there’s a front on which Allison’s behaviour is safe – the affair can never come out in a way Kevin and the sitcom viewers will believe in it, so she will never have to face consequences along the lines of suffering a broken-marriage for which everyone considers her at fault because she committed adultery – and a way in which it’s not – Allison basically said that she knew it was a shitty thing to do but she had fun enabling Sam in cheating on his girlfriend back in high school because she didn’t know the other girl and didn’t really think about her, but now that the relationships those involved are in are even more serious and the other woman is an actual acquaintance there’s no way that this won’t at least lead to drama guaranteed to have a significant influence and consequences in her off-sitcom-screen life. My point with this is that (if my theory is correct) Kevin Can F*ck Himself will show consequences, but Kevin’s sitcom can’t, and that inherently affects the dangers Allison faces for her behaviour and what can come of it in both worlds.  

Leading off from that, we have the whole dealing drugs and assaulting a trucker thing. Necessarily, none of what we’re seeing in Kevin Can F*ck Himself about that can be reflected in the sitcom. We can have the dramatic irony of Kevin confronting Allison the night she started having an affair, we can watch Kevin confront her and Patty over the horrible acts they committed off-screen, but due to the nature of the universe, that cannot be anything but dramatic irony which sitcom viewers wouldn’t be able to pick up on. Simply put, Patty can’t be sent off to jail for dealing because she’s a regular. Allison will never be convicted for what they did to that trucker – even though you’d expect her to be in serious trouble given that surely there would have been security cameras all over any gas station – because that cannot flow back to the sitcom reality in any recognizable way.

Can the sitcom wife spend more than one episode under on-screen police scrutiny? There could probably be a plotline where she spends a night in jail, but according to sitcom logic that has to be sorted out before the episode is over. There has to be some sort of misunderstanding revealed, some piece of evidence come to light that exonerates her. She has to get back to her husband and the dirty laundry and the meals she needs to make. This is why I think it’s not possible that Allison and Patty mugging that guy for his oxy can come back to bite them in a way that would be reflected on-screen in the sitcom. The sitcom wife doesn’t beat people up for their drugs, not like that at least. The rules of a sitcom will not allow it.

The rules of a sitcom also don’t allow the star to die. I fully believe that Patty was right; if Allison had filled that burger with drugs, Kevin would have been back up and running by the next scene. So, given that truly bad things can’t happen to Kevin, and given that things can’t significantly change, what can Allison’s plans be building toward? Literally, is it possible for Kevin to end his life in jail for drug-related crimes? If the premise I’ve laid out above is correct, then no. Is it possible for Kevin to die in allegedly drug-related gang violence? No. It’s more likely that Marcus talks a big game, but is actually a small enough fish he could be taken out of the equation by Patty telling his aunt he was bothering her. I don’t think anything Allison and Patty can do in the Kevin Can F*ck Himself universe to get Kevin done for drug-related crimes can lead to anything more than a Very Special Episode about drugs on the sitcom.

So what does that mean for the show? I have no idea, and I’m really interested in finding out.

Can the rules of the universe be changed? Allison broke a glass on-screen, in a way which probably wouldn’t have been written into a sitcom, so maybe. But that didn’t really break any of the proposed rules of the universe, so maybe not.

And what happens if Allison succeeds? Characters in a sitcom have backstories, but can they have futures after the show is cancelled?

I’ve heard from a lot of people that they don’t enjoy the sitcom scenes, but (for the most part) I think those are depicted to establish and convey something important. I might be completely off-base with my analysis of how realities are portrayed in the show and what we can glean from that, but even without that I think we’ve been offered a compelling deconstruction of on-screen sitcom hijinks.  

Also, I just really love how they’ve worked within the boundaries of the intersection of sitcom and non-sitcom presentation. How can the “just getting by” family afford all the fun things that make the sitcom life aspirational without making the characters too well-off for the everyman to see himself and his own struggles in them? Simple – drain those off-screen savings. It’s perfect. It’s so beautifully indicative of Kevin Can F*ck Himself’s premise.

Any way you look at it and whatever theories you prefer, the world presented in Kevin Can F*ck Himself offers up a lot of interesting possibilities and I can’t wait to see them explored.

[aphrodite1288]

May I ask approximately how often those ig/twt sasaeng infos end up being true?

Like is it a credible source of info? (I hate saying it like this, it sound terribly invasive so I really don't keep up with all of this) I've always thought that sasaengs did not share much their informations for free because it's like a business for them so it's seems suspicious to reveal something so big just like that right? That's what I always read, was I misinformed? Sasaengs do that now?

They only share very famous info, such as comebacks' concepts &dates, which color each member died their hair for the cb. How many songs in the album, leaked demo versions of the songs or leaked dance,if a member is dating or not (not who they date they mostly suspect an idol dating when they see them buying couple things at stores and going out very often they claim they're dating, most if the times sasaengs don't know who the idol is dating exactly) and very famous scandals such as drugs, molestation, alcoholic members, idols being threatened, fights among some idols or in the same group, big scandals like "The Sun nightclub" and sex trafficking and stuff like that...things that everyone knows in korea, things u can't hide. These things were never a secret everyone knows of them. So they share those.

But to know who is dating who? it's very hard ! idols tend to be very very careful, extremely disguised that you can't tell who they are! they never hangout or go on dates outside!à they always do it at home or rent extreme private places far away from korea, far from the famous spots idols frequently meet up at,unless the couple don't care if they're outed so they go on dates freely never disguised and they don't care if they get discovered such as "SNSD's Sooyoung and her amazing boyfriend cute romantic pics that dispatch blessed us with, or the lead couple from descendants of the sun etc...other than that it's almost impossible to catch idols dating they know the tactics of paparazzi and sasaengs and their moves and where they always go to snap pics so idols are more tricky and smarter than what y'all think, it's almost very hard for them to get caught as their guards are always up!)

Something else those stoopid sasaengs pages tend to do, is they share old pics of fake couples and claim they're Jenkai or taennie (taehyung of bts and Jenn ship) or liskook blah blah... To gain followed and to scam shippers and get their money, that's why if u follow those Sasaeng pages they always ask you to move to their new accounts, they constantly making new accounts coz they scam people and get reported so they ask their followers to move to their new accounts and they tend to bring other sasaeng pages down and calling each other fake, I have witnessed many many sasaengs pages bringing e/o down and calling e/o fake and they mostly share the same content and claim it as theirs, I've witnessed many beefs and I laughed my ass off really.

Upon my dear Kaisooists's REQUEST: I've bought from them infos to test them when they said they had Kyungsoo and jongin's girlfriends pics, but when I bought the news and pics they only sent me few pics of a random girl claiming she is Ji's girlfriend and and pic of Ksoo with an old woman( she was a movie producer) when they went for a coffee ☕ to discuss some scenarios suggestions! And I've had those pics long time ago back in 2016 but they're using them now to claim it's Ksoo and his new GF while I've seen the Pics I'm 2016! 🤦🏿‍♀️. The other pics were of a couple a man who's short and looks like Ksoo and his GF, and i discovered that those pics they sent were the rumored FAKE pics dispatch used to claim Ksoo is dating Sojin of the girlgroup "Girl's Day" which no one believed coz that was clearly not ksoo and it was proven later it was her friend/boyfriend, and he doesn't look nothing like Ksoo and he was a chubby short man and Ksoo back then in 2013 was skinny and with a small figure so it was clearly not Soo, also why would a 1 year old rookie Kyungsoo date his SUNBAENIM who's 7years older than him (in age she is 1986 liner) 🤦🏿‍♀️ I mean there's nothing wrong with age gap when it comes to love but for a shy rookie who's under a dating ban and who only debuted a year ago???? That's a NO NO, he was still young to affect his and his members' career by a reckless dating scandal, when he broke up with the love of his life just to debut in SM so clearly he cares about his career. And the pics of Sojin and the other guy whom they claimed was Ksoo are all over internet. It was a flop coz no one believed that stoopid dating scandal dispatch posted to cover up some shit happened back in 2014 when a lot of disasters happened in the industry with the members leaving and death of many other people in the industry, Taeyong's scandal (NCT's), Goohara's rape and sex tapes, Boom's früh scandal, Ladies'code's death caused by a sasaeng, etc...

Anyway I discovered they were a scam, i bought from them to test them upon my fellow kaisooists'requests who asked me in private and begged me to go test those sasaengs whom are so famous and claim to know everything..Thus, I found out I was right, coz they sent me old shit or fake couples who look like Kyungsoo and Ji with some random girls whom they claimed were their gfs.

One famous Sasaeng asked me to pay 100$ To get Ji's new girlfriend's pic, but when I asked her for previews she sent me pics of random girls in Internet, I told her how am I supposed to know if she's Ji's girlfriend or Donald Trump's girlfriend??? She said " well I know she is his girlfriend", I told her " okay prove it??? Do u have pics of Ji with her?", she said "No! Only her !" I told her "and how am I gonna know that she's his GF?? I will pay you 100$ You have to give me legit shit!! That's motherfucking 100$ Sis????!!" She said "I JUST KNOW AND YOU HAVE TO TRUST ME , IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME LEAVE MY ACCOUNT AND UNFOLLOW ME"

I wasn't even following her so she blocked me.💁🏿‍♀️ Actually many of them blocked me, when I tested their korean to know if they really are korean or live in S.K, by asking my friend who speaks korean. I found out they weren't even korean...and they don't even know how to read korean. And they blocked me right away.

And that's only one of the many stories with those fake ass sasaengs whom I tested and found out were basic lying bitches doing it for followers and clout & CASH 🤑💰 and claiming things from their own imagination. 💁🏿‍♀️

But Hey! ofc they do know some things and as I said before above! They know the very famous things such as upcoming idols' or actors' projects, movies, dramas, Comeback dates and concepts etc... Which they use as a proof to gain y'all's trust! But what y'all don't know is that those things aren't even secret, they're news everyone of y'all can find if u join korean kakao talk groups or Kpop amino groups or just naver posts for those who know korean of y'all. It's not magical.

And if anyone gonna come here giving lecture as to why I bought news about Kadi and that I'm a privacy invader and blah blah, I'm just gonna tell you "don't waste your time writing your comment coz 1) I don't read comments so I'll probably never see it, 2) I don't give a flying fuck about your opinion, so calma" .

Hope i answered your ask.

[cruisingthedemimonde]

America’s Gay Men in WW2

World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.

I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian. 

For European queers the war brought tragedy.

The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.

The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.

The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.

But in America the war brought liberation.

In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of  a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”

Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.

Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War

I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.

In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here

And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.

The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.

Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.

While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”

There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.

Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?

For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.

But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.

In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.” 

These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.

“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits. 

If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”

If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.

“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.

Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies. 

Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.

Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.

Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say. 

The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.

Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there  were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”

Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time. 

Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”

And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.

The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual

“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.

But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines. 

The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.

On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.

Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”

Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.

“Though the military  officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction  among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”

Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be  eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through  this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with  it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”

Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”

Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”

 With their plastic shapes and curls.

 Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?

 We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;

 Can’t you tell when we swish by?

 Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”

The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.

I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.

Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.

This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.

Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were. 

After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary.  “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״

Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.

African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”

The Other War: Facing Homophobia

“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept  it  a  matter  of special  concern (d’Emilio 25)”

“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”

Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”

Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.

Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.

Coming Home to Gay Ghettos

“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”

After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.

Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.

The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.

These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.

A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy, 

“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”

Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.

In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.

References:

Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”

John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”

Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Lesbians

In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.

Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."

Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."

Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.

[butgilinsky]

angels & demons // rc

warning; angst, language, drugs, alcohol, alludes to violence but not graphic, basically everything that comes with rafe cameron, a toxic relationship

summary; y/n knows that rafe has demons, but for some reason she can’t pull herself away from him

word count; 1.8k+

i’m in no way trying to romanticize things that rafe does in the show, and i sure as hell don’t condone any of it. i’m not trying to romanticize toxic relationships or anything that comes w them, i just LOVE this song and it gives me rafe vibes soo.. idk i recommend listening to this song, it’s v good and this fic kind of reminds me of my dark writing style. if you’ve read my unfinished series rivals, it gives me those vibes a little.

based on angels & demons by jxdn

Two face, two face, yeah Black white, left right, yeah Up down, all night, yeah

the second they entered the house, rafe was ripped away from y/n. she rolled her eyes at the empty feeling in her hand, knowing that it would’ve happened sooner or later, despite the string of promises she received on the way to the house. 

“baby, i’ll be by your side, i promise.” 

the promise was empty, but most of the promises that rafe offered were. she’d fallen accustomed to the lies and the broken promises, barely batting an eye anymore. 

so she linked her arm around her friend’s neck and smiled at the happy expression she received. the girl locked her arms around y/n and swayed from side to side, rambling about how she didn’t think she’d see y/n at all tonight. 

the next time she saw rafe he was high, though that didn’t surprise her either. his arm wrapped around her abdomen, a soft kiss pressed to the back of her head before she leaned back and offered her lips to him. 

“you smell like beer.” she commented softly, hearing him hum before disregarding the statement all together. 

“i’ve had a lot.” he shrugged softly, the alcohol barely a factor in his behavior due to his tolerance. with the help of his height and his build, rafe had built a tolerance over the years. excessive drinking in high school had helped with that. 

she turned back to her conversation, smiling drunkenly at the girl that had been talking to her for the past half hour before rafe tugged on her waist subtly. the girl that was talking wasn’t picking up on rafe’s sudden urge to leave, but y/n was painfully aware of it all. 

“let’s go.” his lips pressed to the back of her ear, gripping her hip tighter when she didn’t respond right away. 

she smiled at the girl again and told her she had to go since it was getting late, before turning and looking up at rafe who wore a dazed smile. she nudged him softly, hand falling in his before he pulled her through the crowd and out of the house. 

Can't escape it ever Don't forget my name I don't feel the same On a trip, no train

rafe’s head fell backwards, his eyes screwed shut as he sighed out into the air above him. the breeze was cold against his searing skin, and his nose began to itch. it had only been a few lines, but it was enough to drown out the voice in his head, numbing the thoughts but not the ache in his chest. 

his eyes locked on his girlfriend, just a few yards away from him talking to a boy he’d forgotten the name of due to the lack of interest in it. her eyes found rafe’s quickly, and it only took a clenched jaw from rafe to dismiss herself from the conversation. 

she sent the boy a polite smile before stalking over to rafe, his hand reaching out for her when she was close enough. he pulled her into his lap easily, ignoring the fact that she definitely did not want to sit at the coke covered table. 

her head fell on top of his, her cheek smushing to the side slightly while she let her mind drift off elsewhere. rafe was talking to somebody across the table but she wasn’t paying attention, absentmindedly bringing her cup to her lips to drown out the sounds. 

“you alright?” she asked rafe after he’d gone quiet after a while, and he nodded shortly. “you look kind of out of it.” 

“need another line.” he said simply, tapping the side of her thigh quickly. 

she sighed but shuffled out of rafe’s lap at the silent command. she stayed close by, knowing she’d be sought out for if she wandered off, and it would ultimately cause more problems than not. 

And all these angels and demons Keep shouting and screaming I'm falling from Eden

she knocked on the door quickly, bouncing on her feet impatiently while waiting for the door to swing open. when it finally did, topper threw his thumb over his shoulder and she slid through the doorway. 

she jogged upstairs and around every corner, hearing the shouting all the way from the front door. the sight of her boyfriend pacing around the room filled her vision. he was tugging at his hair and mumbling incoherent thoughts while kelce stared at him in defeat. 

“rafe.” both pair of eyes snapped up to meet hers, finally allowing her to see the tears running down rafe’s cheeks as he crashed. 

he sighed softly, sending her an exhausted look before she walked over to him. she wrapped her arms around the boy, smiling at kelce when he excused himself out of the room to give the couple space. 

y/n pulled rafe to sit on the bed, letting him lean into her fully and cry into her chest. she knew how it was when he came down from a high, especially when his high was meant to cover up a shitty day. 

“i can’t stop thinking.” she sighed, trying to calm the boy, despite the constant ringing in his ears. 

“i’m right here, baby. you’re okay.”

So fuck me like a rockstar Dancing on a cop car Nothing in the world can stop me now

“rafe, get down, right now!” rafe scoffed loudly at his girlfriend five feet below him, waving her off when topper reached up to hand him a freshly filled cup. 

“dance with me, baby.” he bent his knees, nearing her height but still hovering over her. he held out his hand but she pushed it away quickly, glaring at him in the process. 

“rafe you’re going to get arrested. you can’t sit in a jail cell while you’re high, baby, get down.” he rolled his eyes and stood back up, wearing a drunken smirk while he ignored his girlfriend’s pleas. 

she watched for a moment longer before turning on her heels and storming off. she wasn’t going to sit around and watch rafe dig a hole from himself, though she seemed to be doing that for years at this point. 

Fucked up like a rockstar Ridin' in a cop car No one in the world can help me now

she grabbed her card back from the woman across the desk, not even bothering to smile while she signed multiple papers. her head snapped at the sound of a husky voice she’d recognize anywhere, though this time it made her growl in anger. 

“baby, i’m so sorry. thank you for coming-” 

“i don’t want to hear it, rafe.” she handed the papers back to the woman and waited for the man to unlock rafe’s cuffs before she walked out of the station, rafe hot on her heels. 

“y/n, please, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to fuck up again baby, i swear.” she stopped on the sidewalk, turning to face the boy as her anger practically seeped out of her. 

“that’s the thing, rafe. you keep fucking your life up no matter how much i try to stop you. i can’t help you if you don’t want to be helped, rafe.” he looked down at his feet, the words he’d heard her say multiple times ringing between both of his ears. “just get in the car. you’re lucky they didn’t call your dad, rafe.” 

Everybody said that I'm falling Took another line I'm calling I'm so sick of the nonsense I'mma dive into the mosh pit

“can you stop lecturing me for one fucking second?” his voice was loud and harsh, and would’ve knocked anyone else down a notch. fortunately for the girl in front of him, she’d grown to figure out how to stand her ground for the time being. 

“i’m not lecturing you. i’m trying to help you, rafe-”

“well you’re not fucking helping! i’m sick of the bullshit, y/n. i’m sick of trying to make everyone happy, so just let me deal with my own shit.” she stood firm in her place on the sand, watching rafe stomp off. 

she ignored the burning gazes on her, turning around and walking off of the beach. if rafe didn’t want her to bother him, then she would stop bothering him. so she left the boneyard, slipped into her car and drove away. 

I don't really think I'm the problem I don't really think it's a problem Me plus me is a problem One gun shot could solve 'em

her back leaned against the door, her eyes trained on the carpet below her though she was painfully aware of the sobs that filled the room. she hadn’t spoken in almost an hour, listening to his string of apologies and excuses. one minute he didn’t think anything was wrong with him, and the next he claimed his world was crashing around him. 

he fell to his knees in front of her, digging his face into her stomach and gripping her hips. she sighed softly, ignoring the single tear rolling down her cheek and dropped her hand on top of his head. she scratched at his scalp gently, hearing his sobs turn to sniffles. 

“i’m so sorry.” he spoke softly, almost too soft for her to hear. 

“i’ve hear that too many times, rafe.” he shook his head quickly, looking up at y/n with wide eyes that glistened from the sheen of tears that covered them. the moon that seeped through his window casted a beautiful light across his face, one that reminded her how she’d ended up in this messy love story. 

“i mean it, y/n. i know i went too far this time and i’m sorry.” 

she wanted to laugh. too far was an understatement. he’d committed, arguably, the worst crime known to man, and he called it ‘too far’. every day of her life before this one, she would’ve sworn that anything like that would’ve driven her away from a person, no matter her ties to them. 

but somehow, the boy on his knees in front of her looked up at her with a look in his eyes that she couldn’t imagine never seeing again. she couldn’t imagine never waking up next to him, or never feeling his lips pressed against hers. she couldn’t imagine a life without rafe cameron, and part of her hated that. 

unfortunately, she saw how rafe tried to rationalize his actions. she saw how deeply rooted his demons were, and she saw how his mind ticked in such a way that she’d never seen a person tick before. she knew his intentions were less than pure, but they were far from malicious. 

“run away with me.” he looked up at her with such desperation, the thought of a life where the two of them could forget about everything around them bringing him a joy he hadn’t felt in years. “baby, let’s run away.” 

she hated that that sounded like heaven to her. 

[dystopiandilfs]

Hi I saw your post about being a Sterek anti which gave me whiplash because I followed you for mcyt opinions but then found the one other Sterek anti. Do you have any other unpopular Teen Wolf opinions that would really upset people?

I love to hate on Teen Wolf of course I have unpopular opinions. This is basically me hating on the Hales and Argents (minus Chris) for being creeps. Don't get me wrong I love the show but these are things that I can't ignore.

Disclaimer this includes topics such as child predators, grooming, abuse, murder and other similar topics. Don't read this If you really like Teen Wolf and is someone who can hate something based on others opinions.

• Sterek is an awful ship. If Stiles was a woman everyone would be calling Derek a pedo. It's weird because season 1-3 Derek was a creep and season 3-6 Stiles was an awful person. Like they switched.

• Ethan and Aiden sounded cool on paper but were a huge fail. Okay so you can combine and grow..... Is that it? Kinda lame for twin Alphas.

• Theo was a better villain than Void Stiles. He managed to successfully split the entire pack apart turning everyone against Scott including making Scott and Stiles fall out. He then made his own pack, killed them off for their powers, got sent to hell, then came back. Void Stiles was Stiles being possessed by a fox spirit and it not being him in control whereas Theo did kill them, he could control who lived or died. What can Void Stiles do? Play chess, pack it up Bella Swan!

• Stiles isn't my favourite character solely because of his comments about Liam's ied and Issac's abuse trauma. Saying that Issac was milking his trauma after he finally was able to open up about it. Constantly going on about Liam's ied and how he was a bomb ready to explode at all times.

• Peter was an awful person, he tricked Derek into turning Paige and that killed her, Derek was now single and traumatized just in time for child predator Kate Argent to groom him then burn his family, Peter survived the fire, killed even more people, died, manipulated Lydia into helping him come back, came back killed more people and repeat that 4 more times.

• Speaking of awful relationships let's not forget Parrish and Lydia. As in the grown adult police officer and the highschool minor.

• Stiles name is Genim and I stand by that.

• People think that Issac would have believed Stiles about Theo and that's just not true. Issac would have been wary of Theo based on his own thoughts but would have trusted that Scott trusted Theo. Don't know where everyone got this Issac and Stiles besties from, we must have been watching two different shows.

• Erica and Boyd were easily top 3 platonic soulmates. Others being Liam and Mason and Scott and Stiles

• Allison was a shitty person. She tried to kill her friends multiple times and got mad at everything and everyone. I genuinely thought she was meant to be bipolar when I was younger because of how she acted.

• Everyone was hypocritical, everyone was fine with Stiles killing Allison and Aiden, Peter for killing a lot of people but not Theo or Jackson eventhough Jackson was also possessed and Theo was manipulated and groomed by the Dread Doctors.

• Kira was stronger than Scott both mentally and physically. Parrish was stronger than Derek and Peter.

• Melissa and Chris were actually a good pairing. I feel like it would be weird for Melissa and John to get together.

• I don't know who Noah Stilinski is. I only know John.

• I prefer Stydia as friends but would pick them over Sterek. However I really liked Stiles with Malia and would have loved Stiles with Cora.

• Scott and Allison were a shit couple. "True love" okay so she broke up with him then immediately got with Issac who was one of Scott's best friends. Then Scott got with both Malia and Kira but still was obsessed with Allison. In my opinion their relationship was good in their eyes because it was their only relationship, no experience. Then Scott always brought her up because he felt guilty about her dying.

• Season 6 was a good season people only don't like it because Dylan wasn't in it.

• Theo was one of the best things to happen to Liam and vice versa. He was one of the only people who didn't either make fun of his ied or use it as an excuse for things. Yes he used it during 6x16 but he knew he'd get his ass handed to him but still did it to help the pack, he wasn't just saying it to insult Liam.

• Mason and Corey were a missed opportunity especially with Mason's knowledge and Corey's powers

• Scott and Liam weren't as close and people want them to be. Scott was always getting mad at Liam and rarely ever worked with him, they never did shit together. "Me and Liam go do this thing" "you guys go and sort this out". The only time he willingly stuck with Liam was when Liam had just bought back Theo and he only stayed with Liam because he thought Theo would try to manipulate him again.

• Lydia being the one to bring Stiles back during the wild Hunt was by far the biggest hate crime. You picked a long time crush over a childhood bestfriend/brother to be the one with the biggest connection to bring him back.

• Scott being a bland character was a good unintentional decision. It gave way for other characters to shine whilst also building multiple storylines. A bad example would be Elena Gilbert, she was bland but was still the main focus which imo was a bad decision.

• People really underestimate Theo and Liam's trust for eachother. They had less than a season of development but managed to be one of the better pairings. Like apart from them working together multiple times, Liam wanting Theo to go to the zoo with him, Theo stopping Liam from killing Nolan and Gabe etc. Theo knew about Liam being beat up at school by Nolan and Gabe before Scott did. Mason and Corey wouldn't have said anything because they didn't trust Theo, the only person who did was Liam. In the sheriff station Theo knew something was upsetting Liam and thought it was Brett and Lori then next episode knew it was Nolan and the Hunters.

• Coach was the best character in the entire show, not Stiles, not Issac, not Lydia, not Derek. What a king. Absolute girlboss. I know Coach would guard my drink with his life, no date rape drugs for me thanks to Coach.

• The show as a whole treated mental health terribly. Theo being manipulated as a child, Issac being abused by his father, Nolan's very severe anxiety and PTSD, Liam's ied, Malia's PTSD etc.

Basically if Teen Wolf had a 7th season and I was involved in writing it I would include the following:

• Puppy Pack including Liam, Theo, Mason, Corey, Hayden and her girlfriend (yes I'd give her a gf), Nolan and Alec just having fun and experiencing life.

• Derek, Peter and Chris working with the police.

• Melissa and Deaton working together along with Liam's step dad on a supernatural section in the hospital.

• Braeden 🥰

• I'd have a fever dream style episode where we get a Void Stiles and Evil Theo (with Tracy and Josh's powers) teamup.

• I'd bring back Kira, Cora and Issac

• I'd have the big threat being a coven of witches which is why they have to bring a lot of people back because it's a whole group of magical beings and Braeden, Kira, Cora and Issac could all bring knowledge that they've found from being in other parts of the world.

• I'd actually use all the cool supernatural powers instead of Scott roaring and flashing his eyes. Lydia's Banshee scream ripple, Parrish's flame on, Corey's invisibility, Theo, Malia and Derek's ability to shift into an actual wolf/coyote, Kira's cool fox powers, Jackson's Kanima vemon etc.

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 2

Hello everyone,

I am submitting this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy. I chose prompt “1....You can pay your rent in money or in blood.” I was inspired by all the prompts and will probably use them throughout the series. Basically I use the prompts as guide-lines.

This is the first time I have written and shared a fic online-- or ever really! It’s also the first time I’ve written anything modern so please let me know what you think! I hope I’m posting this correctly--I created the title art--LOL I’ve never done this before. I’m aiming to update the series each Tuesday. So here we go...

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2228

Part Two: Long into the Night

        The bass swelled and the drums cracked imitating well-known pop-rock songs that sent the patrons into a lather. Antha wasn’t the only one that finally felt it: the night was officially popping-off as it were and when she followed Tessa’s lead people stared.

        As if caught in a fever-dream, the mirrored image of them simply blew one young man’s mind. Way past his limit, he asked one of the twins “Are you real?” Zoey stepped in, pulling her friends around them acting as a barrier. With the added security in numbers, Antha started to relax, even have a little fun; also, knowing that Doug was on his way helped. The song led into another fan favorite and then another; they rolled with the rhythm, working up a sweat that no air conditioner could soothe.

        Something caught Antha’s eye. It was Franco, watching them, flipping the top of his lighter. A chill ran up her spine. She figured now was the best time to break the news to Tessa.

        “Hey, we’re going home after this,” she yelled into her twin’s ear, “one more round and then home.”

        “What did I tell you? We’re going to have fun!” Tessa proclaimed like it was the only stance she had ever believed in.

        “I just have this feeling Tess, I don’t want to go to that bonfire.”

        “You don’t have to! You’re not my third wheel, just get on home then—I’m going out to get lucky!” Tessa shimmied to her Daft Punk reference as the band began to play Get Lucky. She hummed when she followed Antha’s eyes across the floor toward the booth, where Franco lounged. “How can you resist that tall glass of water?”

        “We’re not going. You can have him over for brunch tomorrow,” Antha turned into the spitting image of her mother on the spot, as if compromising with a child. Every so often she checked the door, wishing Doug would just appear to help wrangle her girlfriends. She was truly outnumbered.

        Tessa laughed incredulously, “Franco doesn’t do brunch.”

        “And he’s not doing this either.” Antha waved her hand between the two of them as if a package deal. Tessa stopped dancing, her brow cocked and arms crossed. Zoey piped in that she would go, as did one of her cronies. Tessa shifted her weight and tossed her hair with her unequivocal “I do what I want” look, then she led the girls off the floor toward the bathroom. Antha trailed behind them, hot on their heels.

        She stood outside her sister’s stall trying to be as reasonable as the cocktail coursing through her veins would allow. Tessa and the others finally came out with the flush of toilets reverberating into one long sustained note, suggesting a migraine to Antha. “Oh, you’re still here? I thought you went home.” Tessa began, her attitude getting away from her as she preened in the mirror. Zoey tried to mediate but fell silent when the twin stated her case.

        “Look, if José asked, if Treyvon, if Brian asked—I would go! We could have fun—I just don’t like Franco. He’s got that weird, slow drawl—he disappears then reappears—where does he go? Where? To bonfires on Slaughter Beach? This sounds like the plot of every slasher horror flick ever made!” Antha explained, exasperated.

        “This is just like ‘the Treyvon incident’ years ago, when he touched your hair—it’s like an endless tug of war with you Ant. You never let anything go!” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, tired of her sister.

        “Tessa. He didn’t touch my hair—he snuck up behind me, fisted my dreads and whispered some nonsense about reigns or riding—or some shit! You know damn well he’s never ridden a horse so I can only imagine what he meant!” Antha grew annoyed recapping history when all it did was make Tessa laugh as if that was one of those old fond memories. Zoey blushed and covered her mouth, feeling a bit mortified for them both.

        “Maybe, I’ll explain it to you when you’re older.” Tessa shot back as she dabbed her neck with a damp towel. She began mumbling her usual rhetoric of Antha should ‘grow up and relax’, but a moment later she slouched against the counter.

        “If this is going to be a thing let’s just stay local—we can hit up the diner, you know like old times—summer is just starting, class is about to let out, we can head down to the beach another night.” Zoey rationalized.

        “Whoa…” Tessa sighed as if she wasn’t part of the conversation and held fast to the sink. She seemed woozy and held her head.

        “Who bought you drinks other than me?” Antha immediately took her sister up by the face and stared into her rapidly dilating pupils.

        “No, no, its not like that—he’s just got some good shit I haven’t had in a while.” She explained, completely detached.

        “Did you know about this?” Antha barked over her shoulder at Zoey and her friends; the girls hemmed and hawed like they were lined up for her firing squad. Of course, Franco had good shit, she thought. In the light of the bathroom Antha could tell she was the only mostly sober woman in the group. “We’re going home now.” She pulled Tessa and the rest from the bathroom, her head pounding from the music and cheap whiskey.

        When they got outside Franco was leaning on the back of his truck bed as if he were waiting to round up a herd of sheep. One of his friends, beer in hand, offered to help the girls up. Two climbed in, but Zoey hesitated, debating if she was more afraid of missing out or Antha. Antha put Tessa in her car and told her not to move; before she could hunt Franco down she found him lumbering toward her.

        “What is wrong with you? She’s as high as a kite!” She confronted him, attempting to keep her voice low.

        “Really?” He replied with mild surprise. “Well I got yer friends here—y’all still welcome to come down if you want.” He handed her the messenger bag and continued casually, his hands in his pockets as if he couldn’t fathom why she was upset. She threw her bag in the back and slammed the door—praying that Doug’s Buick would be squealing into the parking lot right about now.

        “You’re trouble, you know that? My sister doesn’t need a redneck like you hanging around—so do us a favor and disappear like you always do.” She threatened him as he dryly pulled a cigarette from his other ear and lit it. What else you got behind those ears?

        “Well, I see.” He bent to look in on Tessa who was fighting the urge to laugh or cry, she wasn’t sure in her current state. “I guess I’ll be hitting the road then.” He ironically saluted and turned to his truck. Antha watched as he threw up his tailgate and fired up the engine. His friend and the girls clucking like teenagers in the back.

        Antha sighed and swung herself into the driver’s seat of her sister’s car, realizing she didn’t have the keys in her pocket. When she turned to Tessa to get them, she found an empty seat. To her horror she looked up ahead to see the familiar white hot-pants climbing into the passenger side of Franco’s monster-sized truck. She jumped from the car, prepared to block the way and be crushed rather than watch him drive away with her.

        Before she could take one step closer her ears filled with the shrieking of brakes slamming behind her. She hadn’t had time to turn before flashes of color and angry feet whizzed by her body. Someone shouldered her out of the way, knocking her to the ground. The air filled with the unmistakable sound of shattering glass. The girls were suddenly screaming and jumping from the truck bed as Antha held herself, recoiled on the ground and terrified.

        “What the fuck?” Franco bellowed as José took a baseball bat to his side mirror and his crew slashed the back tires. “Who is this guy?” He yelled, completely blindsided, not truly wanting the answer. The invading men knocked out the taillights as José threw open the door and yanked Franco from his seat.

        “Tessa!” Antha held herself, her shoulder throbbing. The men circled as Franco attempted to defend his case.

        “Dude, I don’t know you—are you her boyfriend? Look, I don’t know what the—” He tried to set a standard for the situation before it escalated further. When José’s fist met Franco’s mouth Antha turned from the riot, too afraid to look. The sound of knuckles crashing against teeth was enough visual for her.

        “Tessa!” She called again as she pulled herself up to get her sister. Tessa was called by the men too as if insisting she bear witness to their fury.

        The passenger door groaned open and all that could be seen was a blur of white as Tessa hopped out and bolted from the parking lot and into the corn fields. With a surge of adrenaline Antha found her feet rushing as fast as they could after her sister. The shoddy bar and its watered-down drinks fell away from her like dead weight as the fear set in that her sister was running into the great unknown without her full faculties.

        The broken corn stalks and uneven ground was all she could follow—the only evidence to lead her to her fleeing sibling. The men brawling sounded distant like a dream from another time; everything, the whole night, was forgotten as Antha called for her lost other-half. She took a sharp left, listening, unable to trust her eyes as everything seemed to be moving. The corn stalks swatted back viciously in their disturbance. The further in she ran the more they grew, reaching to the sky, disorienting her and stinging her arms and face—but not like the terror in her chest, her lungs burned with her efforts. She didn’t know how long she had been running.

        Then there was silence.

        Antha stopped for a moment, unsure where to go, the stalks holding fast like bodyguards, reminding her she didn’t belong there. You’re lost, she swore someone whispered to her. She turned to find no one. “TESSA?” She called. Complete silence. All of her hackles raised as the realization set in that she might end up on the six o’clock news and not be around to watch it. The breeze could barely pass through the crop. “Tessa?” She cried as she desperately looked for those white cut-offs that encased her precious sister.

        She slowly moved forward as the thought occurred to her that they might not be alone. Momma, please I’ll never do anything wrong again! Please help me find her—I swear I didn’t mean to lose her—I swear to you and to God I’ll donate more to the church, I’ll never say the f-word again! I swear— Antha’s internal prayer was cut off as the ground suddenly left her, or rather she left it. After spewing the words she swore she’d never say again, she found herself in a rut. She looked above her head to see the corn stalks leering down at her, as she pulled herself from knotted roots and mud.

        The ground had cut away and she could barely see in the dark the massive crater-sized drop. She looked about with nothing but a freckling of stars and clouded moonlight to her aid. She searched for a way up, but could find none. “Tess—” She began but her voice died in her throat as something moved a few feet off from where she stood. She approached carefully—it could be Tessa, it could be a rabbit, or the Boogey Man—perhaps all of the above. Even the Boogey Man wouldn’t be out in this Delaware heat, she thought to herself, her internal monologue attempting to keep her panic at bay.

        She continued further and swore she saw light through the foliage and dank terrain. Antha followed the specks of light, frightened of what she might find, but too scared to stay in place. She prepared her fists but lost her gumption as a whimper sounded. She thought it was herself at first, but then realized the brush was shuddering and crying. Cautiously she pulled back a branch and found the iconic hot-pants, dirtied and shivering. “Tessa!” She excitedly whispered and threw her arms around her sister.

        “Ant, is that you? I’m so lost—where are we?” She sniffed, dazed and confused.

        “I’m here! I’m here!” She kept whispering and pushing her braids back, inspecting her face and limbs. Tessa’s expression was alien; whatever she had taken was in full affect now. She vomited in the shrubbery next to her. When she was done emptying her stomach, Tessa turned to her sister petrified and pointed. Before Antha could turn she heard a smooth voice cut through the dark.

        “You seem to be lost.” The metal click of a shot gun being cocked and readied trumped all of the twin’s senses—that was until the cool tip of the barrel met the base of Antha’s skull.

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @nildespirandum @yespolkadotkitty @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @villainousshakespeare @hopelessromanticspoonie @caffiend-queen @poetic-fiasco @lokimostly @dianamolloy @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @cateyes315 @mooncat163 @nuggsmum @myraiswack @wolfpawn​ @plastic-heart​

Bottom image Credit: https://images.app.goo.gl/Tq153Yhn2DsyBq296

[emily-strange]

Sparks Fly

Thank you for all the feedback on chapter 2! I hope you like this one.

Still a lot of talking but the action is coming in the next chapter haha I promise!

Chapter 3

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of Violence, *very* mild mention of child abuse (very very small), Mention of Drugs and Weapons.

…………………………………………………..

Emmy lies on the ratty old sofa and dozes.

After Butcher left, she went exploring and found a shower with some clean (she hoped) towels. The water was freezing but it meant she was able to get the dirt and grime off of her. She grabbed a tank top from her bag but after looking at her hoodie decided that she didn’t fancy putting the gross thing back on.

In one of the dingy bedrooms she found a short-sleeved shirt with a ridiculous pink pattern on it. She gave it a sniff and after determining it was cleaner than her hoodie, she put it on. It swamped her smaller frame but it kept the chill off. After finding an in-date energy bar, she collapsed back onto the sofa and eventually dozed off.

This is where she is when (who knows how many hours later) the door of the safe house bashes open.

“It’s done MM!” Butcher shouts as he comes stomping into the livingroom. MM follows carrying a woman over his shoulder as he grumbles. Emmy bolts upright and is ignored by both men when they storm into one of the bedrooms.

As she sits, calming her breath from the intense wake up, a third man comes hurrying into the room. He secures the door and mutters to himself in French. When he spots Emmy sitting wide-eyed on the sofa, he straightens himself out and rushes to sit next to her, extending his hand.

“Bonjour.” he says delicately and takes her hand, giving it the briefest of kisses, “You are, the…”

Emmy smiles and takes back her hand. Something about this man puts her at ease, his demeanour is calm despite his rapid breathing and dishevelled appearance.

“Um, Emmy.” She answers and he smiles widely.

“Un beau nom!” he says and Emmy shakes her head laughing a little, “Ah, uh, beautiful. Beautiful name. I’m…”

“….FRENCHIE!” Butcher shouts, interrupting the quiet, “Get tha fuck in there ‘nd help MM restrain ya girlfriend.” He watches Emmy smile genuinely at Frenchie and after the night they’ve had it pisses him off. A lot. Frenchie’s caused too much trouble!

Frenchie smiles warmly at Emmy and glares at Butcher before going to the bedroom where MM is. As the door closes, Emmy catches sight of the woman they’d carried in.

“What happened?” she asks quietly.

Butcher takes off his coat and tosses in onto the sofa next to Emmy. He runs a hand down his face and ignores the question. Before she can ask again, MM and Frenchie come out of the bedroom. MM making a beeline for the fridge.

The tension is thick as Frenchie moves to another corner of the room, his hands in his pockets. He looks down at the ground while MM downs a bottle of beer. Butcher heaves a big sigh and puts his hands on his hips, looking like a teacher about to scold his students.

“We have a fuckin’ long day t’morow alrigh’? Last thing I need is you at each ovas throats. We lost tha female ‘nd now we have tha female. So end of.”

Emmy points to herself and queries, “Who, me?”

“No not fuckin’ you.” Butcher growls and Emmy sarcastically throws her hands up in fake surrender. He then turns to MM.

“Go home. Get some rest.” he then turns to Frenchie, “You, make she’s definitely secure before hittin’ the hay.” Both men nod before moving to leave. Suddenly Butcher shouts, getting everyone’s attention again, “OH! And no more fuckin’ strays alrigh’! I didn’t think I’d actually haveta say it but…..fuck. Come on.”

MM scoffs and leaves with a shake of his head.

Even though Frenchie looks like he wants to have his say, he doesn’t. He does however look between Emmy and Butcher before shrinking into the bedroom housing the female.

Butcher checks his phone and collapses into a ratty chair that matches the sofa. He tiredly hangs his head back and closes his eyes.

For a moment Emmy just sits and waits….but that grows old very quickly.

“Okay, look, I don’t know what’s happening here oooor who that girl is but…..enough. I’m not a fucking stray and I definitely won’t be ‘restrained’ so…either let me leave or kill me.” She says sternly. Anger and annoyance bubbling up inside her.

Butcher doesn’t move. And for about 30 seconds Emmy wonders whether he’s actually asleep. Then he opens his eyes and looks at her.

“Wanna beer?” he says airily. Catching Emmy off guard.

“Um, no I’m good.” She says, “What game’re you playing?”

Butcher pushes himself up from the chair and grabs a beer from the fridge, taking a long swig.

“Oh luv, this ain’t a game. That girl in there is doped up to her fuckin’ eyeballs in summit called ‘Compound V’. Know anythin’ about that?” he asks, watching her face carefully.

“What? No. Why would I?” Emmy replies getting up from the sofa.

Butcher takes a second to look her over. She’s cleaner than when he left, she obviously found the shower. And she’s changed. He smirks a bit to himself when he sees how big his shirt is on her.

“You said ya family pushed drugs. They’re also on Vought’s payroll.” He states, keeping his mind on track.

“Yeah they do. Did.” Emmy says, quickly catching herself, “But like, Coke you know. Sometimes Meth if the money was right. Never heard of…whatever V.”

Butcher eyes Emmy and takes another swig of his beer. She can see that her answer has satisfied that part of his questioning. She groans, “Look. I’m losing it here okay? You gotta tell me what you want man.”

“That’s my shirt.” Butcher says quickly gesturing to Emmy.

“Oh..” she stutters, looking down at the shirt, “Did you…is that okay?”

Without answering, Butcher pulls out the piece of paper he took from Emmy earlier, putting it down on the table in the kitchen area.

“I sent a copy to a cop mate of mine. She’s gonna look inta it.” He grabs three more beers from the fridge and hands one to Emmy before collapsing into the chair again. Emmy stands for a moment with the beer, unsure what to do next. Butcher sees her hesitation and can’t help but chuckle.

“Look luv. I’m bloody knackered. No ones dyin’ t’night....well….unless that thing in there gets loose.” He says gesturing to the room with Frenchie and the Female.

“Fine.” Emmy says with a sigh and drinks some beer. She starts to sit down but stops herself, “You know what?! Not fine. No. Why are you keeping me here?! I don’t know anything. But I DO know what you’re doing. Keeping me off guard, on my toes, hoping I’ll slip…..well there’s nothing to slip!”

Butcher smirks, he’s always liked a feisty woman.

“I get that you hate people with….powers or whatever but like I said, I didn’t know I had any until recently.”

“Right, so what ya sayin’ is, you’ve not hurt no one wiv it yet?” Butcher asks knowing the answer.

Emmy stutters for a second, then drains more than half of her beer before sitting to perch on the edge of the sofa cushion. She squares her shoulders and looks at Butcher.

Butcher smiles and even though he’d never admit it, he’s impressed with how together she seems. Frazzled, sure, but she’s a far cry from the girl in the alley.

Emmy basically growls and shoots daggers at Butcher saying, “My names Emmy by the way. Not ‘luv’ and definitely not ‘sparky’.”

“I know.” Butcher answers quickly with zero emotion on his bearded face. Emmy can’t help the roll of her eyes and that only makes him want to annoy her more. He knows he can be such a child sometimes.

“Look. The family…..they were bad people. Are bad people…..” Emmy starts and mumbles the next part, “…I didn’t get them all” She drinks the rest of her beer and Butcher gestures with his bottle asking if she wants another. Which she does.

With another beer in her hand, Emmy turns and sits cross-legged on the sofa. She looks at Butcher and agrees mentally with his earlier statement. He looks exhausted. She knows she should be scared but from a young age Emmy’s always had this feeling that she’s been through worse. She’s survived worse. “Look, what do you wanna know?”

Butcher narrows his eyes at her and hums audibly, “Tell me about this family….mafia shit.”

“Um, okay so like I said. I grew up with them and you don’t just get to walk away when you’re 18….by then you know too much. About the weapons, the drugs, all that stuff. Every couple of years they’d take in another kid and sometimes they stuck and sometimes...they…didn’t.” Emmy pauses to have some of her new drink and grows uncomfortable under Butcher’s penetrating gaze. He takes note of her tense grip on the bottle and the darting of her eyes. She won’t focus on anything for too long. It seems that she may not be afraid of him and The Boys, but she’s scared of something.

“What happened when they didn’t stick?” Butcher asks when he senses her getting agitated. Better to have her focus and get it over with.

Emmy swallows, “Well. Sometimes a van would pick them up randomly one day. Or…they just disappeared. I’m pretty sure they’re dead. I have zero proof of that but it was always a bit of a threat you know? If you acted up. If you didn’t want to work.”

Butcher nods and the grip on his own beer intensifies. He grew up in a house run on fear. Imagining all those kids dealing with the same thing, without anyone to stand up for them. It makes him see red. Before he can dwell on it too much, Emmy continues.

“I wasn’t great with the books. Maths isn’t really my thing...” She laughs humourlessly, “…but when they showed me how to make the drugs and put together the guns, I just put my head down and did it. I planned to run a few times but always chickened out.”

“You were’a kid.” Butcher says resolutely.

“Yeah” Emmy nods, “But I’m not anymore…was still afraid.”

For a few seconds the two of them just watch each other in silence.

Butcher recognises the same self-hatred he sees whenever he looks in the mirror and Emmy, for once, feels no judgement directed towards her.

“I was weak. I didn’t help anyone but myself…About 10 years ago kids stopped getting dropped off. That was a fucking awful time. They were pissed. That’s about the same time Vought stopped the payments. From what I could tell from the paperwork anyways. I didn’t have that much time to peruse.”

Emmy hadn’t noticed but while she was talking, Butcher had swapped out her now empty beer for another one.

“I think that’s why they started shipping…people” Emmy grimace’s, “more money I guess? Anyway. When I found out I broke into the head office and just…..”

“Snooped?” Butcher finishes and gives Emmy a smirk that makes her stomach flutter. Maybe it’s the beer…

“Yeah, snooped. I found the Vought accounts. I was transferring the PDFs onto a drive but was…interrupted…”

Butcher gestures with his bottle to Emmy’s face, “That how you got the bruises? The ones I didn’t give ya.”

“Yeah. Boss and two of his sons. He has a few. While his sons were…giving the bruises, the boss just sat back and lit up a cigarette. I hate him…so fucking much.” Emmy stares off past Butcher and he smiles to himself. The type of rage she has is something he hoped Hughie would show signs of by now. He knows she said she can’t start fires but if asked, he’d of put money on her eyes shining red with flames.

“He always did that you know. Lit one up while someone else did the dirty work. No matter what it fucking was…those fucking white sticks poking out of his fat, ugly face. Then all of a sudden, that fat face was on fire. And before I knew it, everything was on fire.” Emmy laughs, “But I was just stood there…in the fire and not burning. It didn’t hurt at all. Before everything went completely to shit, I managed to print off one of the account files and ran….and then some asshole kicked me in the face!”

Emmy finishes her story by raising her bottle to Butcher in a ‘cheers’.

She laughs again before drinking but Butcher doesn’t join in. He looks at the fresh bruises blooming over her cheeks and jaw and internally flinches. Emmy notices his grim expression but before she can say anything, it disappears.

“Look, we’re bad guys. But we’re not that.” Butcher says leaning forward, putting his elbows on his knees, “Whatta you willin’ to do to get answers?”

Emmy drains her beer and rubs at her tired eyes. Damn she feels tipsy.

“Umm, I dunno. Burn people alive apparently.” She answers, louder than anticipated and giggles. Butcher shakes his head and finishes his own bottle. Putting it on the ground by his feet.

“The girl in there was kept in a cage and pumped with some kinda supe speed…my job is to find out why…” Butcher begins but is cut off by Emmy’s hand throwing itself into the air.

“I’ll help!!!!” she says enthusiastically.

“Alrigh’ then.” Butcher nods and gets up, “Get some rest. N stay outta that room. Fucker killed many people t’day. Probably best you don’t run inta her until Frenchie can calm her the fuck down again.”

Butcher scoffs when Emmy salutes him. For a supe, she sure can’t handle her drink.

He watches her lie down and snuggle into the uncomfortable sofa like it’s a 5* mattress. He grabs his coat and throws it over her before making his way to the other bedroom. He stops when Emmy quietly calls his name. He turns and can just about see that her eyes are closed and that she’s pulled his coat up around her.

“…..I’m not sorry. About them. I’m not sorry.” She whispers.

Butcher turns the lights off and makes his way to bed without answering.

But he does smile.

[caligobeltrao]

I for one would love 2 hear ur thoughts on the hannibal novel 👀👀 - bloodybrahms ☺

ahhh thank you BB!! <3 I’m gonna throw it under a cut bc I know people aren’t gonna want my ramblings clogging up their dash lol. 

Edit after I’ve written it: Holy shit this turned into a monster but tbf I did say I was going to rant. I think I miss writing college essays...

Also, I would like to note bc I’m about to bitch, I do still love Hannibal and Clarice and all of the franchise. Hell, I even love book Hannibal because I’m garbage and want to be special. So yeah. It’s a fond bitching. 

Okay where to fuckin begin man... This novel was a fucking Shit Show, my dudes. It was like baby’s first fanfiction. 

Let’s just jump in, shall we? 

So by now, having read both Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs, I know Harris injects of lot of sexual shit into his novels, fine whatever, but the amount of pedophilia is insane. Like, Red Dragon with the grandmother threatening to cut his dick off by holding it in between scissors????? And then we have Mason Verger, worst human on the planet. Like jfc I’ll go into him specifically more later but just. Men. Why does it always have to be sexual. 

Like that time Clarice wasn’t wearing a bra and she wanted to prove to Paul Krendler she wasn’t wearing a wire so she flashed him her tits?? Unnecessary, Harris. Bullshit on all counts. 

Next, poor Ardelia Mapp. So he clearly wrote out her accent in Silence, which frankly reads racist since to me it seemed like he did it every time a character of color was met but he didn’t for Clarice’s Southern accent except for this book when she was talking to Ardelia. Now, that’d be a cool way to show how close they are, sure, but it just... She didn’t show up enough to warrant that reaction from me, plus all the other casually racist shit he throws in. 

Ardelia’s literally there as the wise Black best friend to help Clarice along. She doesn’t feel like her own character, she’s only there in conjunction with her, or doing something for her. She was the fucking valedictorian for Christ fucking sake, she also works at the Bureau but if her department was mentioned it was only once in passing. She was not a full character which fucking blows because she could’ve been so cool. 

And real quick before I forget, I hate how she’s treated in the end. I do like she gets a reference and that brainwashed Clarice sent her an emerald ring and a note saying she was okay, but Ardelia was abandoned by her best friend (that she had lived with) with not even a phone call and they will never see each other again and I think Ardelia knows it. It sucks and I’m heartbroken for this woman. 

I’m gonna touch a little bit on the racism too. Now I’m white and not the most qualified to talk about this shit, but I do wanna mention it because it makes me mad. There’s just so many unnecessary slurs, any POC is more of a background helper character to Clarice than anything or a foil. 

For example, Evelda Drumgo. She starts us off. Badass Black woman who runs a drug cartel. She chooses to shoot at Clarice and risk her baby’s life, and we have Clarice wash the baby off and save his life. Then Evelda’s mother is written as irrational when she slaps Clarice for visiting the baby in the hospital; I get Clarice’s impulse, but that woman just lost her daughter because Clarice killed her. I would’ve slapped Clarice too, even if it was a totally justifiable shot. 

The baby himself is used as a foil throughout other parts, most notably to me when Clarice goes to visit Mason the first time. There are two Black boys from a foster home playing in a room with a camera so Mason can watch them, and it shakes Clarice up a lil bit because of the baby, but it says she’s getting more used to it.

Now this is half and half well written and shoddy to me. It’d be a cool moment, if the whole incident wasn’t nearly completely forgotten for the rest of the book shortly afterword. It could show growth, if Clarice had any growth to show. 

And then the Romani people who are literally just used and thrown away. Sickening. Also very broadly used the stereotypes we hear which Sucks; the three we meet in any sort of depth are pickpockets, one was already in jail and Pazzi used his leverage as a police officer to get her to do what he wanted and threatened to have her baby taken away from her permanently, like it was just bad. And then the man got killed. Pazzi let him bleed out. Asshole. 

The slurs. I could take out all of them and pretty much have the same damn thing. Like I get showing negative aspects of characters and just because a character’s racist doesn’t mean the author is, but with the characters already being as shitty as they are, fully didn’t need it to make them worse. Entirely unnecessary. Racism or the character being racist has no impact on the plot is the major thing, I think. And you can replace that with anything along those lines, like sexist, homophobic, transphobic. It didn’t impact the plot, they can still be shitty, you just don’t need to use them. 

This also goes in reference to Margot being a lesbian. And the transphobia holy shit, it was disgusting. Harris had Clarice think something so cruel and unnecessary it’s like my guy why was that even remotely something we needed to hear. We didn’t. I wanted to stop reading because that’s not my Clarice, first and foremost, and second, this is supposed to be the character we LIKE. And now I don’t like ANYBODY in this damn book. 

And he treats Margot like shit too, and Barney. 

Their friendship was beautiful and great and finally for once something nice was happening in Margot’s life and I was happy reading it, and then FOR SOME REASON Margot goes to shower in the same room as Barney after a workout, which makes no sense, and then Barney tries to force a kiss on her (and he was hard, Harris made that very clear) and she had been sexually assaulted by Mason her brother and ruin the whole damn thing and none of it would have changed any other piece of the novel if you removed it!!!!!!!!! Entirely unnecessary!!!!!! And Barney had the gall to say well I couldn’t help myself like none of that was realistic in the slightest, she never would have went in the same room to shower with him. 

Something you need to do is basically get some suspension of disbelief from your reader and maintain and stretch that as you go, right? Well mine was gone at that moment.

Also side note Margot is basically just there to show how shitty Mason is for the umpteenth time. Her whole thing is lesbian sexual assault victim.

Also heavily implied she was a lesbian because of the sexual assault. And we rarely see Judy, her girlfriend, so. Bad. Bad all around. 

Circling back around to Clarice and how disappointing she is in the books as compared to the movies. Well, Clarice is also a poorly written character. She’s 1000x better in the movie. Hell, she’s even better in this book than she was in Silence, but that’s not fucking hard. 

Pretty much all the characters are so flat they don’t even classify as two dimensional. 

Like sure, maybe we wanna say Clarice didn’t really solve much in the first book and was just handed everything because she was a trainee and that’s what Hannibal wanted. 

Like if you remember the John Mulaney sketch of Delta Airlines where he’s just going “Okay!” and running to the next place he’s told, that’s Clarice. 

Okay so why does she get goaded into all this shit now? She should know better. She should know how to handle herself better. Like she messes up basic fucking shit like clearing a room before untying Hannibal, which was stupid, she seems oblivious to some of the politics at work even though she’s been in the FBI for like 7 years now, she would at least have more fucking contacts than Brigham who died in the beginning and Jack Crawford who died at the end by rolling over in his bed to his dead wife’s side and Ardelia who would be near the same level as Clarice I guess but I still don’t know her damn department???? Like you fucking network. 

Plus after her final fall from grace with the FBI, we meet or are told of random side characters that go no where and do nothing just to say “hey look at my special little girl, everyone likes her and looks up to her!!” Why? Because she caught Buffalo Bill 7 years ago and then never got a promotion or even worked with the BAU? Again, it does not make sense. People may pity her? But a random girl in the lab wouldn’t be fangirling. Starling herself said her career had gone nowhere because of the politics and not sleeping with Paul. You need to show me why she’s likable in her actions not others words. 

We spend more time away from her than with her anyways but Jesus. 

AND HER IN THE ENDING. She was fucking BRAINWASHED????? Bull FUCKING SHIT. He completely ruined anything he even remotely might’ve had in this cluster fuck of a novel. 

Case in point, difference from the movie, Hannibal spends weeks (possibly? it’s left purposefully vague and I’m guessing that’s because Harris didn’t know the ins and outs and wanted his novel done) meticulously brainwashing Clarice, he had stolen her father’s bones and she’s so far gone at that point she doesn’t care, and the whole scene where Paul is getting his brain eaten? Yeah, she happily indulges and when he insults her, she asks Hannibal for more. Fuck you, Thomas Harris. 

And Hannibal’s a Gary Stu, fucking fight me. 

In the movie he either is or he’s tap dancing on that line, don’t get me wrong, but in the novels it’s insufferable because it doesn’t seem earned. The pigs didn’t attack him because they didn’t smell fear on him. No. He’s easily able to drug and brainwash Clarice and take her as his lover. No. Go away. He’s so smart and one step ahead and can manipulate anyone and everyone into doing what he wants and blah blah blah shut up! A character being perfect isn’t interesting even if he’s evil!! We all know he’s never truly in danger because of how Harris writes him and that’s boring!! 

And I personally have a pet peeve where the villain is described as a monster or unstoppable. That’s boring and I no longer care about your story. I know 9 times out of 10 your main character is going to find a bullshit way around the impossible and kill it. Or it’s just like a default personality and nothing else is added to it. And that’s Hannibal. 

I’m on Hannibal Rising now and, spoiler alert, he’s very bland as a character. (Also Harris switched some details in the novel which kinda annoys me like get your own canon right my man but whatever.) The plot itself is pretty fun? I guess? Like there’s action and stuff and I’m enjoying that. But it’s the same set up where Harris’s Gary Stu always wins, like he was 13 in the book when he killed the butcher. Let. Your. Characters. Lose. 

Also even more racist shit but what did I expect really. 

Anyways, I have no idea who I’m supposed to root for in the novel because all the characters are just kinda shitty. It really just boils down to Harris not showing any redeeming qualities or actions from any of his characters. I liked Margot for a while out of spite but she never really went anywhere and the way she killed Mason (btw she sodomized him with a cattle prod to get his semen bc side plot and then stuffed his Moray eel down his throat and somehow I still don’t think that’s the worst part of the novel) just. No thanks really. 

All the random little side plots were also pretty not great. How many time does Harris have to say Pazzi of the Pazzis? Like I fucking get what you’re going for, even if I hadn’t watched the movie I’d be like, “Oh this dude’s gonna get hung outta that window, dope,” the literal first time. Stop treating your readers like idiots. 

And then Margot’s side plot was that the will their father left said she needed a biological heir to inherit because he was pissed she’s gay and we needed the homophobia I guess, so Mason got everything, and she was helping him with the Hannibal shit because he’s pretty incapacitated duh, and in return he would give her his jizz so Judy could be artificially inseminated and they could have a child and get some of her inheritance. I don’t care. It was all very gross, and Mason kept saying shit like suck me off you’ve done it before, I won’t be able to feel it anyway, maybe Judy’ll suck me off you think she’d like that. It’s all gross. 

And I guess this is a good a time as any to finally start on Mason. So a great rule of writing to make everything work better and give your story more depth is to give everyone both positive and negative traits right, even and especially the bad guys? Like, rules can always be broken if you’re a good enough writer, but I believe I have established that Harris isn’t quite there yet, to put it nicer than I have. 

Mason is one bad trait after another. It’s like when Harris was bored of constantly writing about plain ole pedophilia, he threw a dart at a board of horrible things and landed on topics such as: pedophilia but make it incest, extreme sadism, sadism but against children now, and good old fashioned racism! Fucking Cordell was supposed to collect the children’s tears after Mason would make them cry and put them in martinis for him. Realism went out the goddamn door real fast with this novel y’all. Like a fucking Scooby Doo villain over here. 

And he loves talking about being a sadistic pedophile, he will literally not shut up about it to Clarice when she first gets there telling her about his trip to Africa and this portable guillotine he has and just. I get it was probably like trying to make her uncomfortable on purpose because he’s a Freak, but it went way too far if only because it was annoying, not even uncomfortable for me as a reader. I was bored real quick. Get to the shit I actually wanna know. 

And it sucks because of the weird, over-the-top way of how he died, I got zero satisfaction from his death. I couldn’t even be like, “Well at least Margot got her revenge,” because that’s not how she originally wanted to kill him!!! She wanted someone else to extract his semen for the insemination but couldn’t find anybody to do it for her, and then Hannibal, whilst tied up, said use a cattle prod and you won’t have to touch him and when you kill him you can blame it on me, and I’m pretty sure even if she hit his prostate right every time and he COULD cum from that alone in addition to how his body is Fucked Up now, it would’ve been a lengthy, gross, and re-traumatizing experience for her because all she wanted to do was avoid seeing and touching her brother’s private parts again, which I think is a totally fair and rational desire. 

So I have to live with the fact that she was desperate enough to not lose the house and business because of her homophobic father to go through her childhood trauma again. There’s no place in this book that has a somewhat positive conclusion. 

Even the very last bit where Barney has a girlfriend and a ton of cash from Margot, all he wants to do is see every Vermeer in the world right? Well, because Hannibal and Clarice are in Buenos Aires where one of them is on display, Barney gets spooked and has him and his girlfriend leave before he can see it and it ends that bit with he never got to see it ever so he didn’t even complete his dream!!! 

Also for good measure, Harris throws in that Hannibal and Clarice enjoy having sex regularly. For no reason. Just letting us know. 

I know this seemed like just a bitch fest, because it was, but I kinda sorta enjoyed it? It kept my attention at the very least. It’s really disappointing because like I said, I love the movies, all of them, and have since I was little. To see the original not stand up to that image in my mind is a little heartbreaking. Especially Clarice. She was a strong female role model to me, but turns out she’s... just kinda there. And her ending is that of her no longer being herself and getting that agency taken away from her. 

There is a reference to her waking up from a sleep, if she is asleep (that’s kind of how he worded it), that kinda let us draw our conclusions on whether she was just brainwashed into being good for him or if she was willingly going along with this and was in love with him I guess and it felt like a slap in the face. She turned from a hardworking, modest country girl working her way up to the FBI into a female Hannibal. Which on the surface sounds kinda cool because we love luxe serial killers, but that’s not what she wanted or who she was set up to be. And to insinuate that she would even remotely consider choosing that path for herself is at its best an insult to her and at its worst a complete erasure of her background, what little character Harris did set up. It also completely erases my own connections to her, as a girl from a small town myself who has bigger dreams than this and also... a good, strong set of morals. He just tossed that out the window. 

Obviously if you’re on this blog, you like slasher x reader shit, and this is a novel with a slasher x a person, right? So why am I so mad about it? Because the whole point of this blog and reader insert fanfiction in general is that you are taken as you are and loved wholly as yourself and that you are worthy of that love (in a fictional setting, not really loving people who are like this, which I think we understand but I want to clarify). She was not taken as she was. He is not in love with her, she is not in love with him. She was transformed into what he wanted out of her. He couldn’t get her to be Mischa, his first plan, so he made her like himself. And the fact that he was so easily able to do it makes me upset, and even more so is that it’s not written like it’s weird or wrong. It’s written like they’re in love and this is a good thing. 

He may have been going for the classic “everyone is capable of doing bad things” stuff we see a lot, but we got that from Margot already. And Barney, for stealing Lecter’s stuff and selling it. And Paul, and the entire FBI for turning on Clarice, and the kidnappers, and Pazzi, and random shitty side characters. And none of it was particularly well written or made some sort of strong statement. It just was. And that’s not a good enough basis for a novel. 

Anyways, if you made it this far holy shit you’re a saint and I love you, let’s be friends?? <3 Have a good day y’all, thank you BB for giving me permission to ramble.