#Apparently I have not let myself talk about Cain enough...

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Digital Circus with a Mime Reader, who CAN speak but prefers to use sign language and gestures: they find find Kaufmo in the middle of abstracting and try to calm him down (against their better judgement). It doesn't go well, ending with them locking and closing Kaufmo's door, and running to find Caine... Only to hear the theme song suddenly stop and Jax say something about a "new character" as they approach...

Ough finally some Kaufmo angst-

........

Approaching Kaufmo's door, you stopped in front of it and politely knocked, wanting to check up on him before Caine could summon everybody to perform the Digital Circus' "theme song" musical number.

As of late, your fellow clown hasn't been feeling up to snuff, since apparently nobody was laughing at his jokes anymore...

Although said jokes have all mentioned something about an exit--a way out of the digital realm you've grown quite comfortable living in. But even when he is dead serious, the others are convinced he's only kidding around, pretending to laugh and sometimes asking him if he could joke about something else.

Least to say...it grew frustrating for him.

The only reason he hadn't totally lost it yet was because of you, a mime who has lived in the circus for the past five months and befriended him quickly. Together you've put on many acts: with his wacky props and your invisible techniques, your shows were amusing to all.

That being said, you didn't want your longtime partner to think about any exits too much, as you've lost several friends in the past when they started talking about the same thing.

It happened to Queener, Kinger's beloved wife, and the poor chess piece has been on the brink of abstraction ever since (honestly, it's a miracle he didn't immediately follow her).

Fortunately, he remained stable enough to be around everyone.

As for Kaufmo?

He didn't look so good last night at dinner, and you haven't seen him all morning. Normally he'd be up and about, juggling random things as he walked or approaching you to brainstorm new acts to perform.

Him locking himself away in his room was not normal.

Especially when he knew this musical number was super important to Caine.

After waiting a minute or two, you perked up as he finally answered the door.

At first you smiled in greeting, although that was quick to fade when he only kept it open just a crack--enough for you to barely see his face...

Which bore a terrified expression underneath his runny makeup, making his frown look worse than it actually is. His hat was nowhere to be found, either.

''Are you okay, Kaufmo?" You signed, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

That was your usual way of talking, despite knowing you could very well speak freely. You had no clue if you were proficient in sign language before entering this circus, but regardless it always came in handy, and everybody did their best to communicate with you that way (or at least those with fingers, unlike Zooble or Gangle).

Since your performances usually involved silence and expressive gestures, you didn't see a need to talk often--and that was usually fine with Kaufmo, who'd always chatter with you in sign language right back.

But when he attempted to respond, you swore you both saw his own hands glitching, before he quickly retracted them, clearly frightened.

You, on the other hand, wanted to believe it was just a "digital hallucination".

That's all it was...right?

"I-I'm sorry, [y/n]..haven't been..feeling like myself-f-f lately.." Even his own voice was betraying him, as it sounded distorted, lagging as though he was a slow computer program. "But you believe me, don't you?"

"Believe what?"

"The...the exit, of course! The thing I've been talking about this whole time!! It's real! There IS a way out!! I-I can show you!!"

You blinked, before shaking your head. "Kaufmo, let me in."

"Oh no, I think that's a bad id--wait! Wait!!" Despite his pleas for you to stop, you forced your way into his room, shutting the door behind you so nobody else could intrude or eavesdrop.

The last thing you needed was Caine listening in.

Yet after taking a look around at the state of his quarters--with everything being a complete mess and the word "EXIT" scrawled onto every square inch of the ceiling and walls--you were nothing short of terrified for his mental well-being.

'My god....what has he done..?' You thought to yourself, mortified.

"No, no, no, no!!"

Looking back at Kaufmo, you saw him back up against the wall, holding his face as black glitchy polygons started appearing on his body. He gasped in horror, looking at his hands...and then up at you.

"What's..h-happening to me-e-e?"

Your heart sunk, knowing exactly what was going on.

"You're abstracting.." You whispered, your voice small yet shaken.

"I-I didn't...think I'd be next...it hurts so much! Christ-!!!" He began crying, his makeup oozing as he stared at you with empty, soulless black eyes. One of his arms was already taken over by the glitches, morphing into a large one covered in jagged polygons.

"Make it stop..MAKE IT STOP!!!" He screamed, slumping to the floor.

You were frozen in a state of panic, unsure if you should go get Caine or stay here and try to pull him out of his abstraction.

Either way, you had to do something fast...lest you lose him forever or become infected yourself.

"Just focus on me, pal. I'm here. I'm here." Kneeling down, you grasped his non-glitching hand tightly with both of yours, attempting to guide him through a breathing exercise.

"You'll get through this." You mouthed, but he just shook his head, noticing a single glowing eye forming on the surface of the glitchy flesh.

"Wh-Whatever you do...don't tell Caine, I beg you-u.." He pleaded. "He'll lock me away...a-and I'll be all alone in the dark..I don't wanna be alone.."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head, and he gazed at you in confusion. "What do you mean "no"? You'd let him throw me into the cellar with the rest of them...?" He started to grow angrier, feeling betrayed. "I thought we were partners!"

"We are partners, Kaufmo. Always will be." You sighed, wishing there was another way to stop this from happening. "But there's nothing more I can do...he needs to know-"

"Fine...maybe things will be better if I'm not around to tell my stupid jokes anymore."

"Kaufmo-"

"Go....run, [y/n]...run-n-n-nnNNNN------"

Immediately after he said that, you let him go right as his other hand quickly became overtaken by the abstraction, almost taking you with it.

You got up and took a step backwards, watching in mute terror as he rapidly grew in size, turning into a massive amalgamation of glitch black polygons. Even more glowy-trippy eyes were popping up in different places, looking in every direction.

Within seconds, Kaufmo no longer resembled the clown you once knew (or a person, in general)....but was instead replaced by a horrific digital beast with a long neck, standing on four legs.

You gulped as every single eye on his body suddenly shifted to stare directly down at you.

'Uh-oh-'

You hastily created an invisible wall just as he lunged at you with a ferocious roar, slamming right into the illusion like a bird smacking into a glass pane.

'He still falls for the oldest trick in the book..oh Kaufmo..'

Although it pained your heart to abandon him like this, he was too far gone to be saved. He didn't even recognize you anymore.

The only thing you could do now was get Caine before he harmed you or anybody else--even if it means you never saw him again. He could very well threaten the entire stability of this world if he got loose.

You quickly ran out of the room just before he could break through the "wall" and go after you, slamming the door shut and locking it tight.

Moments later, you heard him ram into it, the hinges damn near breaking off (but by the grace of cartoon physics, that didn't happen).

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, making a mad dash out of the dormitory section of the tent in a desperate search for Caine.

Unfortunately, you could already hear Bubble's singing in the distance as the gang's musical number routine was already starting:

"Gangle, and Zooble, and Kinger, too~!"

You ran as fast as your legs could possibly carry you. They were already aware of both of your absences, and they chose to go on with the song anyways.

'Jerks..they couldn't at least wait for me?' You huffed. 'Caine never tells us when we're doing these musical ditties-'

By the time you arrived, however, you heard the music abruptly cut out.

You stopped upon seeing your friends tumbled over each other on the floor, with Gangle's comedy mask being broken and Jax picking himself up in annoyance.

"Caine, is this one of your NPCs or is this a new sucker?"

Blinking, you glanced at the new person he was referring to, surprised to see a girl dressed as a red and blue jester.

"........."

Now you couldn't say anything to Caine.

Not right now, at least.

[strobbylemonade]

canto 7 pt 3 spoilers and thoughts and stuff

i really didn't expect her to be like.. locked up. by herself. its so sad. i feel so bad for her in the lighthouse. also the I WANT YOU poster cracked me up.

vergilius calling her "my lady" was cute. i thought we were going to get more of their friendship this canto but apparently not. maybe later :( but also what's up with his eyes?? who's his old friend??? WHO did he take the eyes from?? it's not don quixote because he still has his eyes, so it's either the bloodfiend moses spoke with, or it's the progenitor?? or there's more first-gen blood fiends we don't know about.

adding more guesses to the dante's identity flame:

dante is bari/the bookhunter

dante is vergilius' "old friend"

dante is the bloodfiend vergilius got his eyes from

dante is verigilius' old friend who IS the bloodfiend vergilius got his eyes from

dante is dante and their old self is destroyed

dante is an extremely powerful unknown character who gets their memories back but after their canto they pull a don quixote and chooses to live the rest of their lives as the dante we know

sanchos expressions were really really awesome. she's just so... augh....

THESE GUYS REALLY PISSED ME OFF.

i'm not smart enough to understand the implications of this. but ??? sinclair standing up for donqui?? yaaaayy!!!! the sign??? and also him paralleling bari is definitely not a coincidence. i wonder what the mark of cain has to do with it all.

i didn't notice while i was playing but sinclair starts blushing when he asks her to open up. they're so cute. and they're trying their hardest to be vulnerable to their fucked up lil family. i love them.

WE GOT OUTIS LORE!!! LET'S GO!!! this was surprisingly vulnerable of her... and dante's response of "I will. As long as they have the will to change, to move forward, I will be there for them." was great. also girl what do you mean TENS OF THOUSANDS??? i'm starting to think outis has a lot more guilt for the smoke war than she lets on.

uhh and speaking of change that's another theme that's popping up more interestingly enough. yi sang, sinclair, and being "unable to change" is what caused heathcliff to distort. interesting narrative theme. (starts side eyeing dante and outis). also change being one of the biggest themes of library of ruina, with roland and angela needing to break the cycle of the City to achieve their good ending.

bari is cool as shit

the cutscene that follows this where they're all talking about how much fun they had with donqui through the stageplay was genuinely both so cheesy and sweet i almost cried.

oughhh i'm not bothered to grab screenshots from every part i enjoyed of the final point so we're doing dot points again!

sancho's backstory of being born alone and wishing to die before don quixote gave her love and life was... holy shit. "That is why you saved my life from the periphery of death... tried to share your love... and made my heart beat again."

again with the themes of suicide. the original don quixote sees sancho as special because she doesn't want to inflict suffering on others and instead simply wishes to "burn myself to ashes like I was never here". and that's how she gets her first family. because she suffered alone. and then don quixote makes his children suffer alone in la manchaland.

"I don't know who I am" lyric in Hero hits really song. YEAH I FORGOT TO MENTION MILI PEAK!!! it really feels like some of their older music, especially something from mahoyaku (the Big Moon in the background during the final phase certainly helped). the second part sounds especially like Cast Me a Spell. or something from miracle milk with the way the instrumentals and sfx sound. i really like it.

DON QUIXOTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAA

"She was incandescent, like a brilliant star twinkling in the night sky. / That very brilliance compelled me to reach out and hope." OUGHHH. dante's role in this chapter has been really interesting... they're like her, they're chained to their past but are also playing the role of someone who they don't know who they're meant to be. they have a really passive role in bringing sancho back to the Gang, with the other sinners stepping in to help her moreso than dante themselves, and then at the end, it's sancho who saves them, acts as their star, and gives them their dreams back (of having all the sinners together as one big happy family).

and just. holy shit. this entire sequence.

I DID NOT EXPECT A QUICKTIME EVENT!! big cast a spell vibes... i genuinely gasped when the fireworks went off..

LMAO SHE'S MAKING FUN OF HIM FOR THE ROCINANTE THING. also kyaa hong lu's teaching dante how to smile!!! i'm sure this won't have any terrifying implications next canto!!! definitely!! there's some interesting parallels to what donqui said about dante having an "expression" and what demian said about being able to hear them all the way back in canto iii, because donqui/demian listen to their "heart" and not their actual face/voice. interesting

also new dante sprite please???? please??? new dante pose perhaps even??? please????

interesting we're getting the clock ticking closer to doomsday after canto 7 and not 8. with the trajectory they're on, doomsday will happen during or after outis' canto (and before faust's). fun. can't wait for the random lore drop next intervallo/event where they take turns feeding don quixote their blood. please. please. please???

mili peak. pass on peak. feelings peak. augh. i love my idiot family and their pet Cosmic Horror Entity. although i would argue it's a family of 15 and not 12!!! i love found family!!!!

[clemblog]

Caine’s Lesson - Part 8

•

A few days had passed, Gummigoo having spent said days slowly chipping away at a pistol for Poms! It was sleek and a lot smaller than what he was used to, perfectly weighted to the sizing of Poms hands! He grinned as he gave it a final check over.

"Nice one Gummi, another perfect piece, just like Pa taught you!" He hummed happily to himself, leaning to pick up a paint brush from his tool kit to write Poms name on it. That way anyone would know from a first glance that it was hers.

He took a few moments to careful write 'Pommy' in curly writing to go along with the rest of the style of the weapon.

Now, all he had to do was go pester his Ma and see if she had any spare holsters lying around!

"Maaaaaa?"

"Yes Gummigoo?"

"Ya got any old holsters lying around?"

"I'm not sure, we might! If you come stir this pot of soup for me, I can take a look!"

Gummigoo hummed at this, walking into the kitchen. He handed over the pistol to his Ma as he took the ladle from her.

"Ooh! What a beauty, my boy." She cooed, softly as she looked it over. "I'm sure we have a perfect holster for your friend Poms."

"Thanks Ma." Chuckled Gummigoo, stirring the soup his Ma was working on. If he had to guess it was most likely a gummy fish based stew.

A few moments later Ma walked back into the room, holding a ruby red leather holster in her hand.

"Oh! Ma, are you sure?" Spoke Gummigoo, eyes widening slightly.

"You know I don't shoot anymore Gum, besides I trust Poms. She seems like a fine young lady." Nodded Ma, gently placing the holstered pistol in his hands. "Now shoo! Out my kitchen, I got meals to cook."

Pomni was just relaxing in the barn, it was hot day today, so she didn't exactly feel like being out in the sun. She looked up when Gummigoo entered the barn, hands behind his back.

"O-Oh! Hey Gummigoo, what's that?"

"It's a surprise, for you Pommy~" He grinned. "Made it myself."

Pomni's eyes widened slightly as she looked over the item, taking it slowly from his hands.

"W-Wow- Gummigoo- I don't know what to say-" She eeked, slowly.

"How about whether or not you'll be joining me and the lads on our trip tomorrow~?"

"O-Oh absolutely!"

"Snazzy, I'll get Max and Chad to get you a ride before tomorrow-"

"Wait- Gummigoo, do you mean a horse-"

•

"So, Ragatha, you feeling any better?" Hummed Zooble, curiously.

"A little!" Smiled Ragatha, sheepishly. "I'm not really thinking of Pomni so much anymore- I'm still worried about her- But it's not like taking over my life- Like I’m still worried but I can do other things-“

“We got it Rags, don’t worry.” Mused Zooble.

“Y-Yeah! It’s nice to hear you’re feeling better.” Nodded Gangle in agreement. She was still drawing, but was now drawing things for herself or what she wanted to make or plan out. Apparently it was a break, but Ragatha didn’t really see that as a break in her honest opinion- Gangle was happy though, so she left it be!

It just meant she could start to theorise on what to make Gangle as a present!!

Truth be told, with everyone sat talking together, Caine having been absent from the circus for a week now. Jax was feeling rather… lonely. Even [————-] got lonely- But that was the downside of being, well an [—-]. Nobody stuck around much in situations like this.

So, he’d decided to get even more familiar with the circus, see if their where anymore secrets to find! They might be useful! You never know- You can never do enough slinking around!

He’d been walking around for a few minutes when he found a door he’d never seen before, it looked old and untouched. Except for the disturbed dust on the floor, indicating the door could in fact open.

“Hello door! You don’t mind if I-“ He hummed, opening it and stepping inside.

What Jax wasn’t expecting to find was Caine, however.

“Uh- Caine, buddy? I didn’t realise this was how I got to you-“

“JAX!” Exclaimed Caine with a large grin. “You made it just in time to go on your next adventure!”

“Oh an adventure? Finally~ Let me go get the others-“

“Nono, theirs no time! Off you go!”

Jax found himself being engulfed by a portal before he could get another word on.

“CAINE- HANG ON A [—————] SECOND-“

“I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR SOLO ADVENTURE JAX! PERFECTLY CURATED BY YOURS TRULY- NOW I MUST GO HYDRATE, YOU’VE GOTTA GO DO THAT MULTIPLE TIMES Y’KNOW-“

•

“Uh… Max- Chad- I don’t really know how to ride a horse-“

“Don’t worry! It’s easy as riding a bike!”

“Exactly!”

“Uhm… Okay-“

“You’ve got this!”

Max then proceeded to slap the butt of the horse, causing it to charge off with Pomni sat in the saddle.

“OH GOD- MAX- CHAD! HELP ME- STOP STOP STOP- SORRY- SORRY- HORSIE- PLEASE- SLOW DOWN- I DON’T KNOW HOW TO STEER YOU- IVE NEVER DRIVEN A HORSE BEFORE- UH- GUMMIGOO?! LOU?! MA?! ANYONE? MAXXXXX I DONT KNOW HOW TO STOP- CHAD PLEASE- PLEASEEEEEE- YOU GUYS ARE. THE. WORST. GUMMIGOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

That’s to say Gummigoo wouldn’t be leaving Pomni alone with Max and Chad again anytime soon. He took over Pomni’s riding lessons, and after a few laps of the field, Pomni was feeling a lot more confident with her new mare! She decided on naming her jingles. She was a very sweet blue and pink coloured gummy horse. The sweet girl was anxious just like her but she could run fast! Pomni had no doubt that the horse could help her travel and keep up with the trio of bandits on their next adventures!

This was nice, building up a home, some skills and a form of transportation. It helped make her feel more human.

Part 9

[17-noodlebird]

The Magical Digital Van

And here we have the main mode of transportation for our Digital Circus members: The Magical Digital Van!!!!

As you can see, I based the design off of The Magic School Bus and Vanzilla from The Loud House. It has a turquoise side exterior and aqua front. The Van has a face that can make facial expressions, but can't actually open her mouth, nor can she speak. But she still can communicate through vehicle noises and radio music (including meme sound effects). It has red velvet seats and seatbelts (what's safety without them, amirite?) for maximum comfort, as well as cupholders in between each seat,

It was built by Kinger, Bubble, Bethany, and Valerie to be able to withstand any kind of weather, crashes, and the usual wear and tear of a regular van. It can also survive landslides and floods.

The Van can carry up to 16 people, which is enough room for all eight Digital Circus members.

As for the seating arrangement, let's talk about that:

• Caine is, of course, the driver. He's the ringmaster of The Amazing Digital Circus, and thus the designated leader of the group. He's the dad friend of the group, who is very prone to anger and anxiety as a result of the antics he has to put up with, both coming from his superstars, and the different locations he and the others explore (WE GETTING TRAUMATIZED WITH THIS ONE!!!!). Pomni and Bubble have to keep his composure in check every now and then, so he doesn't lose whatever marbles he has left inside him.

• Pomni rides shotgun next to Caine. She's basically the little sister friend to Jax, Ragatha, and Gangle, the cousin friend of Zooble, and the granddaughter friend to Kinger. She's also the daughter friend to Caine and Bubble. Both Pomni and Bubble are Caine's straight men whenever he begins to get panicky, a la Crystal Gem Pearl from Steven Universe.

• Bubble rides behind Pomni and next to Kinger. Bubble is the mom friend of the group, having dialed back on the chaotic energy (but not completely tho) to keep Caine's sanity in check. He's also the most affectionate to Caine, since they're essentially lovers now, though the PDA is kept to a minimum to the point of almost non-existence. I'm deciding to make Caine x Bubble a slow burn because I'm still afraid what people think of this ship, though I do remind myself that it's a rarepair, so it's okay.

• Kinger rides next to Bubble and behind Caine, and acts as the grandpa friend. For once, he's not as unstable and kooky, but will space out from time to time. Being two years away from turning 50 will do that to you. He is a DreamWorks movie connoisseur, and it shows from time to time, including Shrek, Antz (though he thinks A Bug's Life is more superior in his opinion), and even Kung Fu Panda of all movies. He'll probably annoy people to death by reenacting the entire Bee Movie script (his favorite DreamWorks movie) and while in character too. The John Goodman bits make Caine nauseous.

• Gangle rides behind Bubble and next to her secret significant other, Zooble. Gangle is one of the little sister friends and is the most adorable weeb anyone's ever met. She forgets to put on her comedy mask for the almost all of the road trip, as she's just simply all too happy to be along for the ride.

• Zooble rides behind Kinger (meaning they are unfortunately in close proximity to Kinger's DreamWorks ramblings, much to their annoyance), and next to their secret girlfriend Gangle. Zooble acts as the non-binary emo cousin, and apparently has some beef with Caine, who Zooble sees as a dad figure, but they won't admit this to anyone. Zooble is a lot more stoic, but still gets occasionally infuriated by everyone's antics, just like Caine does. Like father, like... Zooble?

• In the back, we have Ragatha, who sits next to Jax, and right behind Gangle. Ragatha is the aunt friend of the group, who tries (and often fails miserably) to keep the peace amongst the group. Because of the fact that she was placed in the back, she is prone to motion sickness, especially whenever she tries to read a good book. Caine has to remind Ragatha to stop reading in the freaking Van whenever she starts to feel queasy.

• Last, but probably not the least, Jax is placed next to Ragatha and behind Zooble, which gives him the perfect opportunity to pick on the mix-and-match pal, especially during road games, with Jax's favorite road game being punch buggy. He's the older brother/uncle figure of the group, though most of the time, he tends to make the situation much worse than it needs to be, much to Ragatha's disappointment and Caine's frustration.

All other seats are occupied by their luggage. They packed a lot of luggage with them, but the one thing that that Pomni absolutely refuses to put in any suitcase is her Gummigoo plushie that she created by herself after the ringmaster gave her powers of her own two years ago. Cute, innit?

The trunk? Also their luggage. Look, guys. They packed a fuckton of things with them. Don't want to take any chances, now do we?

The Van will more than likely just sit there and look pretty while their adventures take place. And because it's magic, it can resist just about anything that the cruel mistress that is fate has to throw at her.

Kinger takes the Van for a joyride after it was built, and that's where he discovered that the Carnival also has a built in Bavarian village. Fortunately, he doesn't find out about Caine and Pomni's secret drinking hideout, the tavern that is La Pierrot.

So I guess that's all I have to say about the Van. It was kinda hard to draw, but I think I managed to capture the essence of what I was imagining.

[eliwray]

CONTENT NOTE: We’re talking about Wolfe’s imprisonment for the rest of this comment.

You’ve been required to agree with me on everything up to this point. 😃 (JK JK! All good.) But this is different. This next thing touches on some real competing needs in the fandom, so YMMV, YKINMK, agree to disagree, etc. I want to start this with a disclaimer that I support my whump-loving friends, and that I think whump is philosophically and morally valid, regardless if my general personal appetite for it is generally pretty minimal. In this situation in particular, though, I’ve really had to take extreme measures to distance myself entirely from Wolfe whump. I cannot bear to increase, or savor, the suffering of a queer man, even before neurodiversity enters into it. It’s a big hit on my own justice sensitivity issues, and, well, I am an ND queer masc enduring this world right now. It’s already too hard, and celebrating suffering directed that close to home is the opposite of a coping skill for me.

Consequently, I haven’t spent any real time sharing my thoughts on Wolfe’s imprisonment in the fandom. Established fanon leans strongly a certain way on this subject (and that’s not judgment) and I know I’m an odd duck. There’s been no reason to go there. But I need to cover some of my perspective here, because it does interact HARD with an autistic Wolfe. So here we go. Again, YMMV.

Let’s start with this fact from our world: imprisonment is, all by itself, torture. We don’t spend much time on this culturally, though that’s very slightly changing with increased awareness of abolition politics. But the sheer forced confinement of a person is inherently violent and dehumanizing, and it is, by itself, enough to break a spirit. The series makes this point indirectly in the context of the Iron Tower, with kidnapping and luxurious imprisonment presented as a chilling fate even before the breeding program is revealed. (Eskander’s protest and best choice - decades spent in a room, separated from the breeding program - is still torturous.)

Someone with an uncontrollable sensitivity toward justice facing an open-ended unjust sentence for something that shouldn’t be a crime is a rather unthinkably horrific experience, and is again enough to break somebody.

For an autistic to have no control over their sensory input is especially heinous. Even an incarceration perceived as tolerable to someone else is excruciating to an autist who cannot control their diet, clothes, movement or environment, and so flat out cannot regulate their own nervous system. When Wolfe is thrown back in jail, the first trigger for overwhelm is the smell. He loses a day to visceral overload at the smell that he cannot escape. It’s only when time passes and circumstances don’t immediately get worse, when he gets a little accustomed to the olfactory input and it slightly lessens, that he can think enough to realize that others in the prison need his help (justice sensitivity) and he must act on their behalf. This time, he can make his imprisonment mean something, and this is a lifeline. That moves him out of meltdown to begin to marshall his intellect again.

Caine withholds significant concrete details of Wolfe’s initial incarceration, it turns out. That’s not immediately apparent to us; we actually visit the facility, complete with devices for inflicting severe pain. We see Wolfe’s responses to being there again, and to remembering being taken from his home, all laced with clear CPTSD. And we have a letter from the Master of Cells mentioning interrogations and describing his decision to release Wolfe. We know Wolfe was imprisoned and suffered interrogations. But how that functioned day-to-day, we don’t clearly know. (We also don’t know how often he was kept solitary, another form of torture.)

Quall’s letter is a curious thing, and worth reading very closely. Qualls extensively describes Wolfe’s usefulness as an interrogation subject (long since expired) and Wolfe’s broken behavior. Qualls explains that his own stomach has turned in this situation, and that he is defying the Artifex regarding Wolfe’s treatment. Here’s a thing that has always stood out for me. It might be easy to read the letter as the head torturer saying that even he can’t stand giving this much torture to a prisoner. But, his list of reasons why the Artifex has gone too far does not explicitly include Wolfe’s treatment at the prison at all. His insistence that the Artifex has done enough and should leave Wolfe alone is backed up with a list of all the non-prison-related punishments: destroying his invention and research, and erasing Wolfe from the records. And that’s it. Qualls is well aware of the toll those actions alone took on Wolfe. We can also imagine here that if Wolfe has a justice sensitivity as described above, that content might reveal itself extensively in prolonged violent interrogation, and Qualls might know well how Wolfe enduring prison for the ludicrous crime of having invented the printing press would weigh profoundly differently on the man than enduring horrors for a more righteous cause.

Qualls does not mention any element of Wolfe’s imprisonment as an inciting factor in his decision, only that interrogation is providing them nothing anymore and so is fruitless. Now, one argument here is, Qualls as a person just doesn’t make the argument that too much torture is ever wrong; it’s only a waste of time and resources. But I’m very aware that Qualls points out a man broken beyond what he would wish for him, and yet he does not actually name his torture as the thing that broke him.

Maybe Wolfe got more torture than Qualls usually gives political prisoners, and that is Quall's motivation. But also, Wolfe is not under any obligation to be a Superman character. Maybe, Wolfe experienced the totality of imprisonment in a way others don’t, and an already dehumanizing experience is entirely unendurable for him.

I know we generally experience Wolfe as a badass. Outside his imprisonment, Wolfe has voluntarily chosen a hard damn life full of war zones and danger and uncertainty. I think that’s part of what could lead a reader to think that breaking must take a LOT. HOWEVER. Here’s something that might be very important: in that life, he carefully preserves his agency over his most immediate input. He is sure to rise up the ranks early in his career and put himself in charge of what he personally does, to the extent he can. He has some control of his day to day life, and he has for some time. The hierarchy that controls him does not function like, say, the garda shaping a soldier’s life. His everyday superiors don’t choose his clothes, hair, diet or daily rhythms, the way Santi’s superiors have. The orders Wolfe’s given don’t generally control his instant-to-instant existence. He keeps a little bubble of control around his body. We can imagine he eventually gains a deep familiarity with life on a mission, unpredictable though it is, and has found a thousand ways to control his own patterns and routines, and endure for something he considers worth enduring for. Traveling exclusively with Santi can be more than keeping his love close; it’s familiarity, it’s shared patterns. It’s a shared understanding of how various minor challenges will be met. He can choose his footwear, his sleeping bag, often his food. He likely has a wealth of various sleeping and eating strategies he can use in frequently encountered situations.

In short, his other chosen hardships are fundamentally different from even an uneventful life in a prison cell. His open-ended imprisonment was not just an endless lack of agency over his body and mortality, as it would be for anyone else. It is also an endless lack of agency over the tools that help him regulate his own mind. That, for me, can't help but break him so thoroughly, and it makes him very human.

I’ll add here a little subtopic: autism is often hereditary. And also. Many autists have varying levels of verbalness and/or nonverbalness. Some autists have no issues with speech. Some of us do not speak at all. Some of us are selectively mute to varying degrees in various situations. Both Wolfe and Eskander use mutism as a coping strategy for loss of agency, either by choice or necessity or probably both. We likely know at least one parent of Wolfe’s who is also autistic. Apply all that’s pertinent here to Eskander too.

Thanks for sticking with me.

One more post to go, for now, and that one is more of a crowd-pleaser, I expect. Stay tuned.

Hi there! So this series of posts is written by an autist - nearly a year out from a late diagnosis - and I am sorting out a looong resonance with Christopher Wolfe and building a case for him being autistic.

The idea that Wolfe is autistic isn’t going to surprise anyone ever! But my reasons for it might surprise you, depending on what you know about autism. So, without further ado, let’s start what will inevitably be a lot of words on this topic.

First, a few words about autism. Like many things in oppressive systems like ours, a personal perspective of autism built on information passively gathered in our culture can easily be chock full of misinformation. Autism has been overwhelmingly defined by non-autistics describing how autistic kids’ trauma-induced behavior impacts other people, rather than the lived experience, gifts or needs of actual autistic people of any age. I would encourage actively seeking out input from actually autistic people, in order to be informed.

Quick terminology note: ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) is a list of problems made by non-autistics and put in the DSM. Autism is a neurodivergence that I have a lot of pride in. The largest overlap of the two is, again, what non-autistics get bothered by in autists with PTSD from being mishandled all our lives. Living and thriving with and inside autism is a whole other ball of wax from that.

I’ll mention this too, because it’s the largest misconception and it impacts Wolfe’s characterization. Non-autistics decided at some point that autists have no empathy, when in fact most autists are easily overwhelmed by an abundance of empathy for other people, animals, and even objects. Check out “the double empathy problem” for further information, but the gist is, empathy works VERY differently for autist and nonautist brains, and communicating across that gap is fraught and complicated. And nonautists have the power to define most everything about mental health. And they decided a long time ago that the miscommunications mean autists have no feelings or compassion. That is incorrect.

Okay. Next up, Christopher Wolfe, autist. This will be a nonexhaustive list of ways he embodies autism, which I thought would come with a reread later this year but my brain wouldn’t let go of until I started writing it!

More to come.

[violetosprey]

BTD2 My thoughts on Cain

I covered my thoughts long ago on all of the “Till Death Do Us Part” game characters, but I never really took the time to talk about my thoughts about the main series “Boyfriend to Death” characters.  I have actually talked about many of these characters through various different posts.  But otherwise, there haven’t been that many posts dedicated specifically to certain BTD characters.

These posts will mostly be about my own opinions and views (a rough analysis more than anything).  I may end up focusing on multiple aspects of the character, or just one particular one if I think it defines them best (we’ll see).  For those that have read some of my other posts, there likely WILL be some thoughts I’ve stated before that I’ll simply be re-iterating here.  But there may also be some new stuff in here if it happens to come to mind, or because I’ve simply not had the time before to go over such a topic.

It will take a while to get through all 8, so please have some patience and just check back later if it looks like I don’t have a post up yet for a character you’re really interested in.  I will also be talking through these under the assumption that you’ve played/read all the routes (so I might mention but not go into explicit detail on a scene).

*major spoilers below, and this is stupid long…like anything I write*

Fun fact:  Cain is my second favorite character in the entire BTD/TDDUP series.  The ONLY reason he isn’t my #1 favorite is because I have an intense love for villainous male yanderes, so Marcus just has an unfair advantage here.  If Marcus did not exist though, Cain would be my favorite hands down.

In some ways, Cain is very straightforward in regards to his characters.  He’s THE bad guy.  If he were in another video game or story, he’d likely be the final boss to defeat.  His powers are ridiculous, he’s nearly 3000 years old I think, and I think his creator has implied that he’s not a fan of working under others.  He’s had to as a torturer, but hasn’t seemed to like it (though maybe it depends on the other person/character).  If his character just came off as too OP to you when playing BTD2, well that’s probably because he’s not supposed to be a push-over :P  And the MC of all things in the game is CERTAINLY not a character implied to be anywhere near his caliber to take him on. What’s more, Cain can be considered a bad guy for the VAST majority of his life, and he shows no regrets whatsoever as to the monster he’s become.

Another fun fact is, I actually didn’t make the connection at first upon Cain’s introduction that he’s the Cain from the story of Cain and Abel.  You do get some dialogue in BTD2 from Cain about his origins there, but in the event that someone is not familiar with the importance of this background, I’ll dip in a little here.  Basically, in the bible you have the first humans, Adam and Eve, and their first sons following that were Cain and Abel.  I’m not incredibly familiar with the full story myself, but what happened was the brothers needed (or maybe wanted- don’t remember) to make a tribute to God.  Cain was a farmer, so he presented some of his harvest as tribute.  Abel was a shepherd, so he slayed some of his livestock and presented it as a sacrifice to God.  Between the two gifts, God preferred Abel’s.  After this, Cain then murdered Abel.  The significance here would be that following this tale of early human creation, that would make this the first act of human murder.  So what Cain represents is the origin of one of the most extreme acts of violence on another human being.  And when you ask Cain about his feelings on the matter in BTD2, he STILL does not regret murdering his brother after all these years.  Apparently the bible doesn’t fully goes in Cain’s motives (so it’s fitting that in BTD2 it’s also left to the imagination), but jealousy is a common theory.

So the Cain we know of BTD2 was punished, marked, and sent to hell I believe.  While likely being punished himself, he served a torturer in hell when needed.  If you checked through ElectricPuke’s tumblr, you’ll also learn that he would have been used for big events of depression or war such as the black plague and the crusades. Most of the time, Cain was kept in line by the more powerful fallen angels in hell.  He’s arguably one of the strongest villains, but not THE strongest person basically (Sam who pops up in one ending was confirmed stronger, but just is held back by rules and restrictions).  Recently though, he was able to escape, and he does not plan to go back.

So what’s he do now that he’s out?  Repent for his sins and come to terms with his years of torture to try to be a better person and go on a long journey of enlightenment *eyes sparkle*? Pfft, nope.  He goes straight to tormenting humanity (likely both small scale and large scale, depending on his mood and what he can get away with without being caught) because that’s what he enjoys the most.  That’s the thing about Cain.  He does show moments in the game where he’s quiet, thoughtful, and perhaps even lonely.  But when you look at him as a whole, he’s just a sadist that does whatever he wants to do.  He’s a VERY charming character, but it’s best not to be fooled by this man.  Sweet words may just end up being his way of manipulating someone, tempting them, into doing what he wants.  He does this frequently throughout the game actually, encouraging you to join tell him your sins, join him in the bath, drink his wine, or join him on the balcony.  But if you go back to many of these scenes and see what they lead into (often Cain getting rough and causing harm to the MC), you realize in your attempt to reach out towards the rose…that you forgot about the thorns underneath.  Maybe that’s another reason Cain likes roses :P

The complexity to Cain lies in the fact that he’s difficult to figure out…especially when you NEED to figure him out to live.  Cain is very fickle, and he gets bored fairly easily.  On one hand, he does whatever he wants, and he’s most pleased when he’s tormenting someone.  But he does have to still be careful about where he wanders because the other fallen angels ARE looking for him to a degree.  And Damien’s aware of Cain’s reappearance and is prepping for whenever Cain decides to start causing mass genocide for the heck of it.  How much damage Cain has caused since he’s gotten out btw, I’m not sure.  We only know that the MC isn’t his first victim since getting out since apparently he likes to text “weird pictures” to Damien.  I’m gonna go out on a limb and say these “pictures”…are likely of his victims after he’s done something horrific to them.  Just a guess, but I’d bet good money on that :P

Back to what I was saying though, Cain is still restricted as to where he can go and how often. Damien can’t beat him, sure, but the other angels that can beat him he’s smart enough to avoid.  He has to hide away in Tartarus for…who knows how long at a time honestly.  That’s not something we learn in the game or are given hints to.  Soooo Cain is even MORE bored when he has to sit around his house all day.  He can read books, but he’ll probably end up reading his same stuff over and over again to the point where it’s unenjoyable.  So what’s he decide he wants to do?  Cain wants a pet (and he is the worst pet owner in the world).  

Let’s face it, pets are companions that give you something else to focus on in your day-to-day routine and help even ease away some loneliness.  But he’s Cain, so a fish, bird, dog or cat isn’t going to cut it for him. Why settle for smaller creatures like those when he could grab something that he can make conversation with, indulge in sexual pleasures…and listen to them scream when he tortures them?  Cain makes it VERY clear that he sees the MC as nothing but a toy to him. You may not be a dog, but you’re just Pet 2.0 at best to him.  He really doesn’t seem to have a high opinion of humans either honestly.  Despite having been one, Cain’s not really all the impressed with what he sees.  It’s not like Rire, who Darqx has stated likes humans and prefers to torment them over demons because it’s more interesting to watch something that’s so obviously inferior to you try to fight back.  Cain does also like a victim that puts up a fight, but when he says the MC is “interesting,” it’s not explicitly because they are human.  Actually, I forget who put up the post, but someone figured out that if you name yourself “Ashe,” then you get a few dialogue changes suggesting MC ISN’T human in this case (it’s a reference’s to Gato’s angel character you meet at the river).  Cain can also turn you into a demon or a fallen angel, so he really doesn’t care about keeping you human.  So if you wanted to think up an OC to use for Cain’s route, probably any species would work as long as it’s weaker than him (which would….probably be 98% of creatures that come across him anyway).

I fully believe Cain when he says his intention is to kill you in the end.  While he’s looking for something more long term than when Rire “plays” with his victims, Cain’s “pets” just wouldn’t last very long.  First off, trying to please him is infuriating.  If you stay silent right after he’s kidnapped you, he’s unimpressed and kills you by ripping his tongue out.  He gets furious if you yell back at him and storm off the kitchen, even calling you a child.  Yet he likes if you say you’re not going to roll over for him when you take a bath together, and he gets turned on when you bring a knife and try to stab him.  It seems if you want to survive Cain, you have to hit JUST the right notes of feisty and entertaining, while not going too far into a defiant state that's just too obnoxious for the nearly 3000 year old fallen angel to deal with.  I myself, just kept getting abandoned and killed by Sam XD  I never made him happy enough on my own.  It doesn’t help that he’s one of the two characters where you don’t see his heart changes until the very end either.  Kudos to whoever figured out those survival endings where you end up with Cain (alive I mean).

Speaking of his age…good luck with either of you relating to each other.  That’s one of the hurdles here too if you’re trying to survive.  I’ve always said that Cain is more likely to hold sympathy for you than someone like the demon king Rire, because Cain used to be human.  That being said, there’s not a whole lot of sympathy for him to give.  Like I said, he doesn’t really seem impressed with humans. And one difficulty with relationships where there are rather large age gaps is how life experiences and events (past and current) shape one’s personality and views.  Basic example is an 18 year old and a 70 year old will have VERY different life goals and obstacles at the point in time of their lives. The 70 year MIGHT be able to relate to some of the 18 year old’s troubles since they’d have already experienced them, but at the same time they could just wave off those troubles saying “oh that’s not so bad, wait until you have to worry about this.”  Meanwhile, the 18 year old of course isn’t going to be able to relate to later difficulties in life that the 50 year old has faced.  I know I’m getting a little weird here, and you’re probably thinking “18 and 70 year old in a relationship?  That’d be a disaster.”  Well now the old man is nearly 3000 years old…you think he cares that much about your college exams, mortgage payments, or taxes you have to pay?  Even the MC’s emotional trauma might just seem petty or insignificant to him.  And if he picked up say…a 25 year old.  You think the 25 year old version of him would have anything in common with a modern day 25 year old?  Probably not.

And that’s another thing I like about Cain’s path.  Your survival is based on two things: a) Either someone else comes and saves you after you’ve avoided danger long enough or b) your personality and Cain’s end up meshing.  If Cain doesn’t care that you’re human, and he doesn’t sympathize or relate to you, you have to hope that you’re the kind of person that’s entertaining and pleasant enough for him.  It also might help if the MC is a little masochistic (makes for a better slave) or has some dark thoughts (think of the painting in the one ending).  There’s also two different ways this happens.  If you get the ending where he turns you into a demon, Puke described that as him making you one of his minions.  Whereas the ending where you turns you into a fallen angel, you’re more his equal.  So demon ending I see as you are JUST obedient enough to not be boring or obnoxious, but it’s still like he’s just grown attached more to his “pet” to me.  Like, he’s kicked you around and harassed you a bit, but when you betray Damien and stay with him on your own he’s like, “Awww that’s adorable.  How can I say no to that face?”  He’d probably still torture you a bit and keep you in a submissive role (but more playfulness there I suppose?).  Is it weird that I could also imagine quiet moments where he’s petting the MC’s head on his lap while he reads a book?  Fallen angel ending he’d probably have more respect for you and even treat you as a proper lover, rather than a sex toy.

Going way back to when I said I fully believed Cain when he said he intended to kill you from the start, I think it’s because he doesn’t really expect to end up making everyone he captures a minion or fallen angel (fallen angel probably even less).  And let’s say he DOES like a person for quite a while, but never enough to turn them into a minion or fallen angel.  He’s probably still eventually going to kill you because he’ll get bored of the same old thing and hasn’t gotten attached to you (this is probably more likely), or because you’re just getting too old to be durable for his torture.  Yeah do you think he’d keep someone around when they’re elderly?  He’d probably “pet his pet down” much sooner than that.  I think he changes someone he REALLY likes into a minion or fallen angel so that they not only become more durable (if he keeps up his sadistic acts) but so they can live longer with him.  Humans can barely live to 100.  Cain’s so fickle though that my head canon is if he doesn’t grow attached to you after a week of torment, then he just kills you.  I don’t think he has the patience to let someone prove themselves to him over a few years.  That’s just my opinion though.

I’d have to replay ALL his routes again.  Strangely enough despite him saying that he likes a little fight in the MC, it feels like there are more moments where he likes your compliance more.  Weird, but I’d have to check into that.  Still, with Cain it’s hard to tell whether that compliance just ends up making you too “yes-man” for Cain to really enjoy, or which moments you pick to be feisty won’t end up with you getting your tongue ripped out.

Overall, I think Cain is one of the more interesting characters in the series due to his backstory, charm, consistently evil persona, and survival difficulty.  He’s one of the reasons I consider BTD2 more fleshed out than BTD.  I know it’s not fair to compare the two games like that since BTD was made very quickly in good humor, but a lot of the characters in BTD2 have a little more to them going on that we get to see in the BTD guys (Strade, Rire, and Akira just doesn’t have as much screentime…I think).  And out of the 4 in BTD2, Cain is definitely the most straightforward evil. Nothing really sympathetic about him. I may have said it’s possible that he gets lonely, but “being lonely” doesn’t mean you’re automatically a good person that people should feel bad for right away.  Cain has not shown any remorse for what he’s done, and even in the survival endings where you end up with him, he doesn’t imply he’s going to stop being the villain in anyway.

[earnestly-endlessly]

kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?

Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!

Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles

Twice as Blind – Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

Rumor Mill – ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

Growing Pains – ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Series

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.

Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck

Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken

Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.

"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."

For Charles – Shigai

Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.

Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.

Erik Hates People – Anonymous

Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.

Sugar – humanitys_cutest

Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.

He just wants to go home.

Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn

Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”

It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire

Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea

Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

[rodeo-boots]

Uhum hey! Could you do a oneshot of Arthur with a short and chubby wife? Modern AU if possible? Sorry for being so specific... Anyways, many thanks!!

Thanks so much for the request, and sorry for the long wait! I hope this adds up to what you've wanted<3

Rating: General

Words: 1405

Warnings: Insecurity; mentioned workplace bullying because of reader's weight

AO3

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Work was hard. That's often how it went, your days dragging like pulling teeth, passing agonizingly slow while you did the best to stay on track. It didn't help that your colleagues could be proper bullies of their own, didn't help that your manager demanded you prove yourself more than anyone else around you.

In your eyes, the treatment you received was downright unfair, but you were used to it by now. You've given up on complaining, on trying to talk things through. It had only gotten worse every time you've tried in the past and at this point, you were tired of it.

You had every right to feel good, to be happy, freshly wed and just back from your honeymoon with Arthur. On your first day already, everyone around you had voiced their displeasure at your absence. As if they had any right to take it from you.

In the afternoon, you finally returned home, pulling into the driveway with a relieved sigh leaving your lips, seeing Arthur's truck parked where it always was. He wasn't a stay-at-home husband, but he spent his time around your property more often than not, working whenever he was needed on the farm led by his adoptive fathers and driving out there whenever one of the animals needed his help. As a veterinarian, that was to be expected of him.

Instead of climbing out of the driver's seat the moment you shut off the engine, you remained sitting inside, reminding yourself to take deep breaths and put on a smile. It was alright. You were home, and so was he. The day was over, and the next one was nothing you had to concern yourself with. Though you couldn't exactly help yourself. It took a while until you felt composed enough to face your husband, to pretend like your first day back at work had gone well and that you were feeling fine. There was no reason to lie to him, you trusted him more than most people in your life, you just didn't want him to be concerned.

And so you stepped inside, moving quietly as you placed your bag down at the door, shrugging out of the jacket you had worn all day. No matter how hot it was by now, late spring often turning out a lot warmer than what was to be expected, the extra layer of clothing had given you some comfort, had spared you the harsh comments you usually endured.

You didn't see Arthur immediately, greeted instead by the Foxhound the both of you called your own, Cain, as Dutch had named him. The older man had found the animal on the side of the road one day, bringing him back here instead of giving him to the shelter, well aware that Arthur and you had been looking for a dog for quite some time. He was a blessing to have around, sniffing your leg and yipping happily upon seeing you, wagging his tail when you crouched down to scratch his ears.

It were the faint sounds of the dog that seemed to catch Arthur's attention, a grumble audible from your living room couch as he roused from what you expected to be another hour long nap. He often took them, still recovering from being sick a couple months back, needing all the rest and relaxation he could get in his rather busy day-to-day life.

"Mornin'," he rubbed at his eyes when he eventually stood by your side, looking groggy and downright adorable with his hair disheveled and his face puffy from sleep. You got to your legs, standing to receive the brief peck to your lips he gave you, unable to fully return his smile. Arthur brushed hair out of your forehead, his brows furrowing slightly while his bright blue eyes searched your expression. "Everythin' alright?" He knew you much too well, knew your every mood and the way you looked when you were down. Sometimes you wished he didn't.

You exhaled deeply, swallowing instead of giving him an answer right away. "It's fine, just... work was exhausting." Which was the truth, though your exhaustion mainly stemmed from something different than the labor you had needed to do.

Arthur hummed lightly, his arm gently wrapping around your waist. "C'mon, let's sit down then. I'll make you lunch," he offered, but you shook your head right away.

"M'not hungry."

"Horseshit, you ain't eaten since breakfast, sit down." Arthur led you to the couch, letting you sink down into the comfortable cushions. You held onto his wrist as he turned to go, wishing for him to sit down by your side for a moment.

His gaze was already worried, your attempts at keeping your state of mind concealed apparently for nothing. He sat down by your side, placing his hand on your thigh in a comforting manner, your heart beating a little faster like it always did. No matter how long you've known each other by now, Arthur still made butterflies flutter within your stomach, made you fall deeper in love with you every time your stares locked.

He didn't need to offer you to talk if you needed, because his eyes seemed to say it all, your own hand resting above his when you opened your mouth to speak. "They've made comments again," you revealed, averting your eyes now to avoid catching the expression in his. You knew how much he disliked your workplace, how toxic he thought your coworkers to be. "About how– about how I shouldn't have gone on break when all I did was get fatter," you frowned, trying not to let the words get to you now.

Even before, you had held onto yourself. You weren't a damsel in distress, weren't one to break down and cry about everything. It wasn't an isolated case, anyways. "And how I– how they didn't understand how I got myself a husband at all." You sighed, reaching up to brush your hair away from your face and tuck it behind your ear. "They're right, aren't they? I'm not... you should have a better wife than me." Every time you stared down at yourself, you couldn't quite believe that Arthur had chosen you, unable to see any sort of beauty within you on most days. Least of all when your very own coworkers kept making fun of you.

Arthur softly reached out for you, taking hold of your chin to tilt it upwards to him. He was much taller than you, the difference clear even when you sat down and lounged together. "You know you ain't gotta listen to them," he reminded, his voice softer than it usually sounded. Even though it still was a little gruff from sleep, he spoke as gently as he could, wanting to comfort you in this moment. "And I know it's hard not to, but you're worth so much more than they could get through their pea-brains." In the worst of times, Arthur still managed to bring a smile to your lips, the corners of your mouth tilting upwards ever so slightly.

He leaned in, kissing your temple and nuzzling your forehead, his fingers entangling with your own. "You're beautiful. Inside'n out. And I hate that they try to tell you otherwise, 'cause you deserve bein' treated like a queen." He kissed your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin. "I love everythin' about you, every little bit, you know that?" His eyes found yours again, genuineness within his own. You swallowed lightly and nodded. Arthur would never lie to you, his loving words and expressions entirely sincere.

"And I married you because you're the only one for me. You're everythin' I ever wanted and more, the best woman I ever had the pleasure to meet." He cradled your jaw, running his thumb over your cheek. "Do you wanna sit outside? I'd cook us somethin', give you a chance to unwind. Maybe you'd like a massage later in the evening." His lips shaped a smile, your own mimicking the gesture. It was impossible to start clinging to the bad thoughts when he filled your head with good ones.

You gave him a small nod, letting him lean in to capture your lips for a sweet and loving kiss, humming happily into his mouth. Because Arthur did make you happier than anyone else ever could, and he made even the hardest of days endurable in the very end.

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje 

Previous | Next​

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

[softlass27]

here we go, a little robron-ified fix-it fic to soothe my anger after this week’s episodes. there’s slight divergence in that i've had debbie and cain not leaving for scotland just yet, but other than that everything’s still canon!

AO3 link here

There was a building headache throbbing behind Robert’s eyelids and it was called Chas Dingle.

He’d been in the pub for what felt like an eternity, listening to his mother-in-law hold court behind the bar, rehashing the latest Charity-related drama in excruciating detail with the rest of the Dingles.

Apparently Aaron and Robert had missed a lot during their week-long holiday to Scotland with Seb. They’d only popped in to pick up a takeaway, but within seconds of stepping through the door they’d been roped into sitting with the group, had two pints set down in front of them and now they were well and truly stuck.

“I mean, this is a new low, even for Charity,” Chas lamented for what had to be the fifth time, shaking her head and gesturing to Paddy, who was standing close by to nod in agreement to everything she said. “We’re done with her. She’s a liability, I can’t work with her anymore. The sooner she gives up her half of the pub and lets Marlon buy her out, the better. And I won’t have her under my roof, either.”

“Well, I’d offer her my room now that I’m staying in Jacobs Fold, but Mandy would probably put up a fight,” Belle said with a shrug. “Besides, Dad says he doesn't want Charity there either.”

Robert thought it seemed a bit harsh of Zak to dictate who could or couldn’t stay in the cottage, considering he didn’t actually live there – or even in the village – anymore, but he kept that to himself. Getting involved in the debate would take more energy than he cared to use.

“Well, she’s not still living with us, that’s for sure,” Chas insisted, her mouth pursed into a thin line. “She’ll have to go.”

“I’d let her stay with me and April, but we don’t have room,” said Marlon, looking concerned. “Not with Billy and Ellis, too. And I don’t think she’ll want to, now that she knows I’m the one buying her out of the business.”

“Oh, I wasn’t hinting, Marlon, it’s fine. Frankly, I don’t give a damn where she goes.”

“Hm, she can sleep in a ditch for all I care,” Debbie sniffed, nose crinkling like there was a bad smell hovering around the bar.

“Alright Debs,” Cain grumbled quietly. “We get the picture.”

“It’s no less than she deserves!” Chas cried, quick to back Debbie up. Robert didn't know when it had happened, but the two of them seemed thick as thieves ever since Debbie had come back to the village.

“Oh, come on, you two,” Marlon said tiredly, rubbing his temples. “Charity’s gone through a lot these last few months, she’s been struggling ever since she lost Vanessa. Maybe we should be tryna help her instead of letting her self-destruct?”

Chas snorted, hand propped on her hip. “What, after she dropped Debbie in it with Al? And tried to sleep with him? After what she did to our Noah?”

“What, stopping him from being daft enough to join the army while hiding a life-threatening medical condition?” Robert snapped before he could stop himself, his patience hanging by the thinnest thread. “Wow, better call social services.”

He found himself on the receiving end of a very familiar glare, Chas’s nostrils flaring as she looked at him with disdain.

“I was actually referring to the slap she gave him,” she said lowly. “Were you not listening?”

“No, not really,” Robert muttered into his pint, earning himself a small snort from Aaron.

As the Dingles continued bemoaning the current situation, Robert nudged his husband and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Can we please get the hell out of here? I can’t take much more of this.”

Aaron sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Still need the takeaway, I’ve been dyin’ for this burger.”

“Do you see Marlon going to the kitchen anytime soon?”

“Oi, Marlon!” Aaron barked, making the taller man jump. “How much longer for the food? We’re starving.”

“Oh, er, Luke’s in the kitchen, he’s sorting it.”

“Great,” Robert groaned, the pain in his head increasing. “They’ll probably be burnt to a crisp if that idiot’s the one making them.”

“Fuck it, let’s just finish these pints and go, pick up some pizzas from David’s or summat,” Aaron muttered, scowling when Paddy’s voice joined the heated discussion.

“I don’t care if she’s regrets it, she’s pushed things too far this time,” he said decisively, arms folded to match Chas’s. Robert absently wondered if he had a nice view up there on his high horse.

“I know what she did was terrible,” Lydia piped up. “And I’m not impressed with her myself. But she seems genuinely sorry, I’m sure she’d do anything to fix things.”

“Yeah, but that’s her all over, isn’t it? Act first, feel bad about it later,” Debbie drawled, swigging back her glass of white wine. “Honestly, I don’t know why any of us are surprised. She’s always been selfish, Noah deserves better.”

“Sure you’re not just sore about losing all that cash you nicked?” Robert asked, brows raised.

Debbie just narrowed her eyes at him and carried on talking. “I can’t see Noah giving her another chance, not after this.”

Chas nodded in agreement. “Even if the poor lad wanted to forgive her, I wouldn’t let him.”

“Maybe just let Noah and Charity sort things out for themselves,” Marlon tried, but that just had Chas’s finger flying up to silence him.

“No, I’m sorry, Marlon, but this is the final straw. I mean, we all know Charity’s never been a perfect mother but slapping him was a step too far. Some things are just unforgivable.”

“Bit rich coming from you.” Aaron’s quiet interjection swiftly brought the conversation to an abrupt halt.

After a brief pause, Chas’s head swivelled to look at Aaron in confusion, clearly uncertain as to whether she was the one he’d been addressing.

“Sorry, what?”

Aaron shrugged. “Just sayin’, if smacking your kid around’s an unforgivable offence, bad enough to get you kicked out the family, you probably shouldn’t be here. You and me wouldn’t even be talking right now.”

Robert held his breath and watched as Chas froze. He was aware of some of the altercations between Aaron and his mum in recent years. Aaron had told him during one of the many nights they'd spent curled up together, sharing all their memories, thoughts and secrets, about some of the things she’d said and done. Like slapping him in the face when she found out about their affair, for one.

Now, he could see some of those events playing out in her memory as she floundered, eyes darting nervously between Aaron and the rest of the family, who were all watching the pair in silence.

“Aaron, you and me, we’ve… I know we’ve had our ups and downs over the last few years, had our fair share of rows, lashed out… And I’m sorry, but that’s different, we’re both adults. Noah’s just a kid.”

“And what about when I was a kid?”

Robert stiffened at the words, and he quickly turned to look at Aaron’s hunched profile. That, he knew nothing about. Aaron’s face remained impassive, giving nothing away.

“What’s this?” Cain said, frowning.

Chas stared at him for a moment, before turning back to Aaron with a slightly bewildered laugh.

“I've got no idea. What’re you on about, love?”

“When I was, what, 11? 12? You hit me then, too.”

“No.” She shook her head quickly, before speaking over the sound of a few surprised intakes of breath from the group. “No, that can’t be right, you didn’t even live here when you were 12.”

“It was when I was visiting,” Aaron said. “Course the family weren’t there to see that one like they saw Charity and Noah. It was just the two of us, back there – ” He pointed towards the back of the pub. “ – in the kitchen. No witnesses.”

Robert saw the exact moment a flicker of recognition appeared in Chas’s eyes.

“Oh… ”

“Coming back to you now, is it?”

“Chas, is that true?” Lydia asked, looking shocked.

Chas ignored her in favour of staring at Aaron with wide eyes, caught off guard. “Oh love, that – that wasn’t – ”

“You had a go at me for not wanting to stay with you or preferring Sandra to you, I dunno. Can’t remember now. But I do remember you tellin’ me I ‘didn’t deserve a mother’ and then slapping me across the face. It left a mark.”

Robert's hands clenched on the bar as red hot anger rapidly surged through his body, and he glared furiously as Chas. She looked around helplessly, turning to Paddy for support. He just opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking lost and uncomfortable at the unexpected turn of events.

“Christ’s sake, Chas,” Cain grumbled from his spot next to Debbie, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“I’m – I didn’t – ”

“I was probably being a bit of a little shit to be fair,” Aaron cut off her stammering with a rueful smile. “Mouthing off – like Noah was doing to Charity, from the sounds of it.”

“Aaron love… I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you still – that you were still upset about that… ”

“I’m not,” said Aaron, matter-of-fact. Robert believed him, too. He knew his husband well enough to tell when he was lying or putting on a brave face to hide his hurt. This wasn’t one of those times. He wasn’t upset, he was frustrated.

“I’m not after an apology, this ain’t about me. All I’m sayin’ is, you might wanna take a look at that big glass house of yours, before you start chucking stones at Charity for doing the exact same thing you did to me more than once.”

He drained the last dregs of his pint and slid off the bar stool.

“You’re the last person who should be judging someone for making mistakes with their kids. I should know.” Aaron cast a quick glance over the group. “Same goes for the lot of you.”

Cain and Marlon had the grace to look somewhat sheepish, while Belle looked down awkwardly. Debbie just huffed and took another gulp of wine. Aaron rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat, shoving his arms in the sleeves.

“Robert, give Charity a ring, would you? Tell her we’ve got a spare room with her name on it.”

Robert pulled his phone out of his pocket. “My pleasure.”

“Er, no, hang on!” Debbie snapped, a hand flying up to halt them. “We’ve already agreed she’s not part of the family anymore, it’s decided.”

“I didn’t agree to anythin’,” Aaron snapped right back. “You wanna fall out with Charity, that’s your business. It’s got nowt to do with us.”

“Besides,” Robert waved his phone in the air with a smirk. “I’m technically the one inviting her and since I’m not a Dingle, your weird little rules don’t apply to me. Thank god.”

“Come on, Rob, let’s go.”

“Aaron no, get back here, this needs sorting! Aaron!”

Aaron ignored Chas’s protesting shrieks and started walking towards the door. Robert began to follow him, before pausing and turning back to the group, zeroing in on Debbie.

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but it wasn’t that long ago you were tryna do her in – ” He gestured to Chas. “ – for shagging your bloke while you were still with him. Threatened her with a… shotgun, was it?”

Debbie’s mouth twisted in displeasure.

“You weren’t even here then!” Chas cried, jaw hanging open in outrage. “That is none of your – ”

“If you can get past that,” Robert spoke over her. “Then you can stop calling Charity the devil for nearly-but-not sleeping with your scumbag ex. Get over yourself.”

Aaron touched the small of his back. “Come on. If we start listing everything this lot have ever done wrong, we’ll be here all night.”

They stalked out of the pub without a backward glance. As they stepped out onto the street, Robert exhaled heavily.

“Always fun catching up with your family.”

Aaron huffed a small laugh and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t even get our food after all that.”

He made to start walking towards David’s, but stopped when Robert gently touched his arm.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine.”

Robert hesitated, fingers curling on Aaron’s sleeve.

“You… never told me about that. That she hit you when you were… ” He trailed off uncertainly, not wanting to sound accusing, like Aaron owed him an explanation.

Aaron hummed and turned to face him, their bodies naturally swaying into each other.

“Haven’t thought about it in ages, if I’m honest. Not for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

For all Aaron said he was fine, that Chas’s actions from 20 years ago didn’t bother him anymore, Robert knew from his own experience the lingering scars that kind of event could leave.

“It’s okay.” Aaron gave him a small smile and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

They stayed like that for a few moments, until Robert’s phone buzzed in his hand. He pulled away regretfully to read the words on the screen.

“It’s Diane. She says she’s with Charity, found her crying in the gazebo.”

Aaron sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Come on, then. Let’s go get her.”

Robert fired a quick text to Diane, telling her they were on their way, before slinging an arm over Aaron’s shoulders as they started walking.

“We’re really gonna have Charity as a housemate again, then?” He asked with a teasing grin.

Aaron groaned and leaned into him. “Looks that way. But if she pervs on us in the shower again, she's out on her ear.”

Robert winced as that particular memory came rushing to the surface.

“God help us.”

[hawkland]

Destiel fic recs #3 - the (mostly) longfic edition!

It’s been a while since my last rec post - mostly because I’ve been wallowing in a number of longer fics (50-350k!) so it’s taken me a while to have enough to talk about in one post (and boy do I talk a lot, here!)

With these longer fics, I do sometimes have some caveats with my recs - or at least reasons why they might not appeal to every Dean/Cas reader. But note that if I didn’t overall strongly recommend reading the fic I wouldn’t include it in my recs here at all, so any quibbles I bring up are minor compared to my overall enjoyment of the stories. Just, I don’t want someone to commit to a long read without knowing what they’re getting into and why it might not be their thing.

I’m still not into reading complete setting AUs at this time, but a lot/most of these are canon-divergence AUs, often written/set at the end of a season and giving an alternative take on what happened next. I love those kind of stories, as it’s often so interesting to see how fans thought of what might happen in the next season (especially when it’s better than what we actually got.)

Onto the recs & discussion behind the cut!

The Sinking Ship by UnfortunatelyObsessed (114k). This is a story that ripped my heart to pieces (in a good way!). I stayed up all night to finish reading because I simply couldn’t stop once I started on it and it gave me a massive fic hanger from all my emotions. Season 14 divergence, imagine if Dean did go into the Ma’lak box to trap Michael under the ocean with him forever...and once there, he discovers that Cas has stowed away with him. Because of course Cas would never leave Dean to such a fate on his own.

I loved literally. Every. Damn. Thing. About this fic. Cas telling Dean stories to pass the (endless) time. Their small intimate moments while realizing they can never consummate physically while trapped in the box but finding every other way to express their love. The absolute heartbreak that had me SOBBING when Michael fights for control of Dean and destroys everything they’ve built together and Cas thinks he’s lost Dean forever. Sam & Gabriel & Rowena & Claire & Jack doing everything they can to devise a plan back home to try to save them both while keeping Michael trapped. Also even just the wonderfully sensitive portrayal of aroace Jack still closely bonded with Claire and Maggie and just. And just. This is a story I’ve already re-read just to savor how much I loved it and its portrayal of everyone in TFW 2.0 and their extended family, it just hit my id in all the most incredible ways and I have nothing but absolute love for this one.

Beautiful Chaos by anyrei, mugglerock (141k). Season 9 canon-divergence, in which Dean doesn’t simply abandon Cas to fend for himself post 09x03. Instead he sets Cas up in a kind of squatter’s nest in an abandoned building near the bunker so he can keep tabs on him and help him out. 

This fic definitely gets the award for FILTHIEST, HOTTEST, SMUTTIEST Dean/Cas (and Cas/other) I’ve read in, like, ever, for human!Cas turns out to be a rather insatiable sex fiend/cock slut and Dean is too up his own repressed ass to easily give Cas what he wants/needs. It is dark at times, Cas ends up in some very unsavory/non-con situations, and the authors do mention that they tried to hone in on endverse!Cas’s characterization more than what we saw in Season 9...so you might roll with it, you might not. I adored their original character Jerry the tattoo artist in this, and like I said it was seriously hot (if you are good with total bottom!Cas and Cas with others, I know those are not everyone’s cuppa). I did have a few minor issues. For one, the last chapter felt a bit rushed and hand-wavey, but clearly the authors weren’t fond of the canon conflicts of season 9 & 10 (Abbadon, Mark of Cain) and just wanted to be done with them. Can’t say I really blame them. And I did have to laugh a bit at Lebanon, Kansas apparently having such a bustling gay bar/tattoo artist/etc scene being someone from a butt-fuck nowhere American small town myself. But, SPN was never all that realistic in how Lebanon was shown (and yes I’ve spent too much time roaming around it on Google maps), so if you can suspend some disbelief this is an awesome hot/angsty/occasionally heartbreaking read.

These Forsaken Lands by destielpasta (53k). I came upon this story when looking for fics that dealt in some way with the aftermath of Godstiel. This is a wonderfully atmospheric late Season 9 “fill-in” case fic (post Meta-fiction) where Cas ends up in a small town that had been visited by Godstiel...and while initially residents have reaped much good fortune, there has suddenly been a wave of deaths/bad events and he is determined to find out what happened and set things right. He calls upon Dean for help, but Dean is fighting the Mark of Cain and it’s going to take a lot to get past its control and find a way out for both of them. Together they work on repairing an old church while trying to repair each other and their damaged relationship.

I loved this story for how well written it was, really invoking a gothic small-town/Americana atmosphere. The original characters blend in very well with the case-fic at the center of it, and the author deals really well with Cas at a very fragile point when he’s running on borrowed grace and trying to navigate Dean’s MoC-enhanced anger. It’s Dean/Cas but actually much more of a Cas character study, so I highly recommend it to my fellow/compatriot Cas-girls who love a good wallow in his head.

Mixed Emotions by Tierra469 (50k). Canon 12 “parallel” fic that then goes canon-divergent with the season finale. I actually stumbled on this while in the mood to read some Cas/ or & Mary fic after enjoying their interactions in Season 12 (don’t hate me). This is sort of two fics in one. The first half focuses mostly on filling in the gaps with some critical S12 Cas episodes, especially Cas & Mary’s developing friendship (and one night of something more). But of course Cas’s feelings for Dean (and vice-versa) are always there, and when Cas figures out a way to get his powers fully back, the question is if Dean can open himself up to be vulnerable - and express love - the way Cas needs for this to work.

This was an interesting fic in a lot of ways. I loved the author’s take on angels’ connections to their vessels and grace, it was very consistent in a way the show sometimes/often wasn’t. Cas is very Cas in not understanding privacy and personal boundaries (so he does some questionable things, admittedly, which might squick some readers). The smut is fucking HOT - though I will caution at one point it involves Cas temporarily in a younger (NOT underage) female vessel (and the story does point out Dean’s discomfort with this and some of the consent issues involved, I don’t want to spoil too much). I wanted the Mary plot resolved more than it was, but I still recommend this story strongly for the quality of the writing and unique/well-developed take on angel lore and mechanics that was quite different from what I’m used to reading.

We Are Either Here Or Not Here by petramacneary (54k) A post-season 12 fic that goes on a different tangent to how Cas returns, and what happens in the meantime. Particularly, it offers a different take on what apocalypseverse!Cas would be like—as Mary makes her own way back from that world with AU!Cas as her prisoner.

What I loved about this story: first off, BAMF!Mary is awesome here. Dean is so heartbreaking, not quite knowing what the fuck to do with this different Cas who at times is just a painful reminder of who/what Dean’s lost...but then becomes a chance for Dean to say and express some of the things he always was afraid to in the past. And when (real/our) Cas finally returns, there’s some very interesting stuff that happens with both Cas & AU!Cas and Cas & Dean that I don’t want to spoil. (And let’s also just say that when real!Cas and Dean finally get together it’s AMAZINGLY awesome. Like, hot Impala!sex. So is the artwork that goes with this story.)

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (353k) The longest fic I read this time around and probably the one I have the most mixed feelings about, but a while on I do keep thinking about parts of it so I do rec it with some caveats. This is a canon-divergence after the end of Season 11. Dean & Sam find Cas after he’s been blasted out of the bunker...to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Mary isn’t in this one except for a brief appearance/visit, which Dean thinks is Amara’s gift to him. Life seems good for a while, they’re enjoying dealing with mundane problems for a change, but then Cas seems to be pulling away from the brothers, spending less and less time with them at the bunker, taking a mundane job at another Gas ‘n Sip, and clearly preoccupied by something else. Or is it someone else? Dean is worried yet finally ready to accept that Cas maybe has a girlfriend, or a boyfried, but then it turns out that is not at all what Cas has going on. It’s something far more serious than that.

Honestly I almost stopped reading when the reveal happened - it’s a subject that’s very sensitive to me from personal/family experience and not something I usually like reading in fic (especially if there is a sad ending.) So I admit I jumped ahead to read how it would end first before committing to finishing it. And I am glad I did, because the author handles the subject matter with a realism and obvious knowledge of experience as well, not how I often see it in fanfic. There are a lot of emotional ups and downs but it’s nice seeing Dean in his momma-hen/mode, and Sam is so so good in this one! I think I enjoyed Sam’s characterization here most of all! And the author has a really cool/well developed angel/wing lore that hit my wing-kink pretty hard. I do think it could have all been edited down a bit - I found myself skimming parts, especially in the last third, just to get on with things. But it’s definitely a story you can disappear into for a good long time and I’ve bookmarked the author’s other works to read later, so again, I do rec it even with a few caveats.

A few shorter fics, too, just because I don’t want to forget about them...

Eleven Erogenous Zones of a Fallen Angel by almaasi (15k) Pure gratuitous wing!kink for me :) Cas uses the last of his grace to manifest his wings...but then is stuck with them in his human form and not even able to use them to fly as he used to. This presents a lot of awkward problems to deal with but also the excuse for Dean to help him keep them clean :) I did say wing kink, right? :D :D I loved how Cas seemed confused about the pleasure signals he got from bathing vs. sex vs. grooming and all of that. It’s sweet and hot and has my favorite kind of caretaking Dean in it.

Fossil Tracks by SegaBarrett  (3k). Dean & Sam & Cas and dinosaurs. How can you go wrong with that? One of the SPN stories from the Id Pro Quo collection I really enjoyed reading (and didn’t write myself, lol).

[queer-disabled-activist]

Jon Cain: Journey songs about being a bad bf/very soppy masterlist

I got the idea last night of making this list and I think it is genius. Jon Cain is the ballad and soppy songs royal. Before he came into the band they wrote sexy songs, when he arrived it became ballads and songs about Jon being a bad boyfriend. I will explore in chronological order from “Escape” to “Arrival” I haven’t familiarised myself that much with “Revelation” and “Eclipse” yet, and after all; 5 albums will give us a lot of material of soppy and Jon complaining about being a bad boyfriend. I will find key lyrics, kinda to prove that Jon is the soppy, bad boyfriend royal complainer. This will be the longest list yet. Except for “Faithfully” Jon didn’t write the songs alone, will list the songwriters to each song as well, but you can tell that he has the most influence. My opinions about how I interpret the song is my own, you may feel otherwise; music feels different to as all after all. Lets start, and enjoy!

Escape

- “Who’s Crying Now” (J Cain/S Perry)

One of his first soppy bad boyfriend songs.In this one he made his girlfriend cry then he also started to cry, I imagine it was bc he wanted sympathy. The song is okay, but not my fave; none of the ballads really are. Key lyrics:

“One love, feeds the fire One heart, burns desire I wonder who's crying now? Two hearts, born to run Who'll be the lonely one? I wonder who's crying now?”

- “Open Arms” - (J Cain/S Perry)

This is Journey’s highest charting hit, peaking at nr. 2 at the Billboard Hot 100, can you believe? Because I can’t. It is soppy. It’s about Jon and his girlfriend who has drifted apart, he wants her back of course, for his own selfish reasons I bet. Girl please, don’t go back into his “Open Arms”. Key lyrics:

“Living without you, living alone This empty house seems so cold Wanting to hold you Wanting you near How much I wanted you home”

Frontiers

We have arrived at the sexless album. There is no sex here, only Jon being soppy.

- “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)”(J Cain/S Perry)

This is one of their heavier songs, but it’s still full of the soppy and Jon assuring that he will be the best bf ever this time around, don’t believe him. Key lyrics:

“Someday, love will find you Break those chains that bind you One night will remind you How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you True love won't desert you You know I still love you Though we touched and went our separate ways”

- “Send Her My Love” (J Cain/S Perry)

This as “Faithfully” is basically the same songs with some different wording. This woman was smart enough to break up with him because he was on the road and not there for her though, which I applaud. Key lyrics:

“The same hotel, the same old room I'm on the road again She needed so much more Than I could give

We knew our love could not pretend Broken hearts can always mend”

- “Chain Reaction” (J Cain/N Schon/S Perry)

One of the heavier songs again, make no mistake though. In this one he’s blaming a woman for the chain reaction at that she made him go through all these changes, like bitch; that is your own responsibility Jon.

“In motion, it's on her way The red light Somebody's got to pay Those changes She put you through Long, long distance You're overdue”

- “After The Fall” (J Cain/ S Perry)

In this one he atleast admits that he’s been a shitty boyfriend, which is a first, but he also wallows in self pitty. If you cannot make time to send your gf a Valentines card when you’re out on the road there’s something wrong with your priorities Jon. Key lyrics:

“But a head strong stubborn man Only works it out the best he can Valentines he never sent There's not enough time he's a working man

Can't stop falling Heartaches calling Finds you after the fall Saints or sinners Take no prisoners What's left - after you fall No not much no”

- “Faithfully” (J Cain)

The soppiest song of them all. It’s Jon complaining about being a bad bf bc he’s out touring all the time and he tries to assure his woman that he is faithfull, which is probably true because Jon is not really a catch. Jon wrote this song entierly on his own, it shows. That is also why I cannot get myself to listen to this song. Key lyrics:

“Oh, oh, oh, oh Faithfully, I'm still yours I'm forever yours Ever yours, faithfully”

Raised On Radio

- “Girl Can’t Help it” (J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

This song is about a girl needing more than her man (Jon I pressume) I do not blame her. Key lyrics:

“The girl can't help it, she needs more He hasn't found what he's lookin' for They're still standing in the rain He can't help it, and she's just that way”

- “Positive Touch” (J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

By the title you might think that the man is talking about his gf’s positive touch, but no. Cheating is not cool Jon. Key lyrics:

“Emergency breakthrough There's no way to reach you There's somebody else I'll turn to

She (she's) has got the positive touch (touch) She's bringing love back to me, yeah, back to me. I said-- She, (she's) to me means so much (much) She's saving it all for me, yeah”

- “Suzanne” (J Cain/S Perry)

This was on the sex mentions list, but it deserves a place here to. This is about Suzanne who has become famous and the man wondering if she still remembers him. Let it go Jon, she has gone on living her best life. Key lyrics:

“Remember...our last September... Suzanne, so far away Remember Suzanne, those summer nights with me Suzanne, don't walk away, I love you Suzanne I'm still callin' you Suzanne...no no no no no remember Those summer nights with me, those summer nights”

- “Once You Love Somebody” (J Cain/ S Perry/ N Schon)

This is about love and how hard it can be. Jon sops over that it can hurt, so, so much. Key lyrics:

“How can lovers just turn and walk away Loneliness is an edge that cuts both ways So easy to fall So hard to get over”

- “Happy To Give” (J Cain/ S Perry)

Jon is complaining about heartache and that he needs someone who will be “happy to give”, don’t give it to him, he will hurt you. Key lyrics:

“ Where is the one, someone who's happy (happy to give) Happy to be with you, it's where you belong, with someone Who's happy (happy to give) happy to give you love”

- “I’ll Be Alright Without You” (J Cain/ S Perry/N Schon)

Jon has been a shitty bf, the woman has broken up with him and now he’s complaining. Key lyrics:

“I've been thinking 'bout the times You walked out on me There were moments I'd believe, you were there Do I miss you, or am I lying to myself again I do these things (It's all because of you) I keep holding on, but I'll try (Try not to think of you) Love don't leave me lonely”

- “It Could Have Been You”  (J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

Another song where the gf has broken up with him to go on and live her best life, he is once again complaining. Key lyrics:

“We were so close yet so far away I'd reach out, you'd be gone Moments that still talk my breath away There's so much more to life than loving you You don't need me, no...”

Trial By Fire

- “Message Of Love” (John Bettis/J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

He is ready to give his all to a woman. He is complaining, trying to send her his message of love, also he wants to die apparently. Key lyrics:

“Why, have I waited so long to be there...for you Now, now I'm ready to give everything...to you Now love's here, where are you?” and  “I hear...but I never listen I see...and still I'm blind All alone...lost in the silence, I'm dyin' Baby can you hear me Can you hear me callin' Baby can you hear my Message of love Baby can you hear me Can you hear me callin' Baby can you hear my Message of love”

- “When You Love A Woman” (J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

This song is a good lind of soppy and I love it. It’s about praising the woman, I am here for it. Key lyrics:

“ When you love a woman You see your world inside her eyes When you love a woman (Well) You know she's standing by your side A joy that lasts forever There's a band of gold that shines Waiting somewhere, oh, yeah”

- “If He Should Break Your Heart” (J Cain/S Perry/ N Schon)

This is about Jon still being in love with a woman that has moved on to another man, good for her. He wants her back (don’t do it) and proclaims that he will be there if he breaks her heart. Apparently they were also in a room together and he has very lonely hands. Key lyrics:

“Is this right I don't care I'm alone with you Here we are, once again you've got someone new Lonely hands, please don't do what you want to do

If he should break your heart I'll always know where you are If you should fall apart I'll be there, I'll be around”

- “Forever In Blue” (J Cain/S Perry N Schon)

This is about Jon falling for a woman that already has a bf, he is heartbroken and complains. Key lyrics:

“And on the night she told me that She had another I was broken by the truth I discovered, I knew oh I knew

Two hearts, reach for each other Once chance, she's like no other I'm lost, lost in the dream of you 'Cause it's true oh I'm forever, forever in blue... in blue”

“Don’t Be Down On Me Baby” (J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

This is about Jon cheating and complaining that his gf blames him, blame yourself Jon. Key lyrics:

“Those little things, you say I do Well they might be true Tell me what good does it do When things go wrong, I'm the first you blame I try another way, still someone's gotta pay

Don't be down on me baby Down on me girl I get lost sometimes In my crazy world”

- “Still She Cries” (J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

I love this song with a passion, but it’s still very soppy. He remembers when times were good, and then when times were bad when she cried, bet he hurt her somehow. Key lyrics:

“I wish I could forget I hear her voice in the night, cries of joy We were good, good, good, I still recall how we'd touch, how we'd fall We were good, good, good

Still she cries Somewhere, still she cries No one knows when lovers will walk away”

(I’m hopping over “When I think Of You” bc that’s about Steve’s mother)

- “It’s Just The Rain” (J Cain/S Perry)

This is about touching, but apparently not in a good way bc their souls are dying, they are blaming it on the rain, also it isn’t love it’s the rain that makes them crazy touch; ok. Key lyrics:

“Inside you keep on lyin' Inside your soul is dyin' You still can't hold back Still you can't say good-bye Touch me, touch me crazy How your kiss betrays me It's not the love, it's just the rain

Two broken hearts But not in vain No reasons why, no one's to blame It's not the love, it's just the rain It's just the rain, It's just the rain, It's just the rain, It's just the rain Falling, falling, falling It's just the rain”

- “Baby I’m Leaving You” (J Cain/S Perry N Schon)

This song is shady soppy. He is complaining, she wants to get married, he does not bc he likes the simple things and the moonlight. It’s also suggesting that she’s a hoe anyway bc boys she knew before comes knocking at her door. Steve and Neal has written a song before that suggests that the girl Stevie was dating was a hoe, so that is definitley their doing (”Where Were You”) Key lyrics:

“I like moonlight, simple things Now you want a diamond ring I got news for you Baby I'm leaving you

We both want a love that last Girl you're moving away too fast I live for your fantasy A real love is what I need”

“I Can See It In Your Eyes” (J Cain/S Perry/N Schon)

Jon is mad bc the girl he used to love is sexy. How dare she? She apparently needs to get a life bc she’s sexy. If she’s sexy and has the confidence to strut her sexy legs she’s already living her best life, yes work it gurl! Key lyrics:

“ Baby..Too bad...I used to love you girl I..Don't care..No more about your face No you..Make me mad...The way you cat around With your lips, your legs And all your sexy ways Do you got another lover now Do you think it's me you're foolin' now No..No”

and

“ Oh you...never hear A single word I say No you..turn away Where do you disappear Oh I've had enough You need to get a life It's all..so tired I think I'm out of here”

Arrival

The first album so far with a new lead singer. I adore Steve Augeri and his voice. He’s incredibly talented and has nothing to do with the bands drama. He got an oppurtunity to sing with Journey and he took it, good for you babe. (“Higher Place” is a kind of a soppy track, but it’s one of the only songs on this album that Jon doesn’t have any writing credits on, it’s written by Neal and some other guy, so leaving that out for now, we are here to focus on Jon.)

- “All The Way” (J Cain/S Augeri/N Schon/Taylor Rhodes)

I think this song has sex as a subtext without really mentoning it. He wants her to open up, not pull away or hesitate so he can take her all the way, I assume that means an orgasm. Can you believe? Jon in on writing a sex song? This is unbeliveable. Key lyric:

“Speak your heart and I will listen Don't hold back we'll find what's missing I'll take you all the way Close your eyes and think forever If you believe we go together I'll take you all the way

I'll take you all the way I'll take you all the way”

- “Signs Of Life” (Elizabeth Cain/J Cain/N Schon)

A woman has broken up with a man. He is devestated, sad but also wants to move on. I actually find this to be a good lyric. He is reminising about the good times, accepting the pain and wants to move on, good. Key lyrics:

“Lyin' next to me Were you ever mine Just wasted love and wasted time Did you ever find what you were lookin' for, The nights you took my breath away I'll miss your love Miss your touch, but this holdin' on it hurts too muchNow it's my time to walk away I'll be okay

Tryin' to not think about you I'm not a dead man walkin' without you You know I'll be alright I'm showing signs of life You left me barely breathin' I've had time for the healing Now I've opened my eyes I'm showing signs of life”

- “All The Things”  (Andre Pessis /J Cain/N Schon)

This is a good kind of soppy and I really enjoy this song. It’s praising a woman and basically listing up all the things he loves about her. The writing style is still very soppy, but I enjoy it anyway, that his whole world revolves around this woman is a bit creepy though. Key lyric:

“ My while world revolves around you Changing colors with the moon Keep amazing me I never get enough

You twist the truth still your're sincere To get your way you'll shed a tear Don't need a reason when you're beautiful”

- “Loved By You” (Cain/Hyler/Tribble)

A song about loving a woman in a very soppy way. He is thanking the world, hoping that if he dies the last thing that is said is her name. It is romantic soppy and way over the top, and yeah; it’s a ballad. Key lyric:

“ If I should die before I wake I'll go into the night whispering your name If lying in your arms is the last thing that I do At least I know that I'll be loved by you In about a hundred years from now When all of my love letters are found And someone reads these words I've written only meant for you They'll know how forever came true”

- “I Got A Reason” (Jack Blades /J Cain/N Schon)

He got a reason to feel alive because of a woman, apparently laying all the happines he has in her hands. She is his reason to live. Also there’s some sex her. I think Neal got some out of him, not bad. Key lyric:

“I got a reason to feel alive You put the smile on my face There'll be no more lonely nights in this town Oh no... no... 'cause I got a reason Oh no... no...I want your love... want you to stay... oh yeah You know you got me night and day Every day...”

- “With Your Love” (Elizabeth Cain/J Cain /N Schon)

This is basically a song about the same as in “I Got A reason” and “Loved By You” with different wording, there’s definitley a theme here, and “Arrival” is very ballad driven, Jon is an incredible soppy man and I am starting to get enough. Key lyric:

“On my own I searched for something more In your arms The kiss I've waited for I was lost for words To say what's in my heart Just to be close To the beauty that you are If someone could see To the end of our lives I know they'd find me there By your side”

- “Lifetime of Dreams” (J Cain / Kim Chadwick Tribble/N Schon)

Basically the same as any other ballad on this album, it has the same theme and the same meaning. Jon and Neal really went on the soppy train on this album and Jon is apparently unstoppable. Key lyric:

“When I look in your eyes baby I see a lifetime of dreams come true And I want you to say, that you feel the same Way too The stars in your eyes tell me All my tomorrows will wait for you You're all of my prayers answered My one saving grace is you”

- “Nothin’ Comes Close” (N Schon/J Cain/S Augeri)

Nothin’ comes close to your kiss. What more is there to say? It’s a song about kissing. Key lyric:

“I've been around the world, ain't much that I've missed It don't get much better then this...Oh baby Nothin' comes close to your kiss I've thought I felt it all before One taste and I want more...Oh baby Nothin' comes close to your kiss”

There are more soppy songs on this album that aren’t written by Jon at all, so those we are dropping.

Conclusion: Jon is the soppy master, the bad boyfriend master. I am up to 31 soppy and/or bad boyfriend songs. The count is much higher of course if you add the songs from “Revelation” and “Eclipse” but this is more than enough. I crown him to the bf/husband you never want to have

[ohsotwistedwords]

Polybius

By Snapdragon

          It was July when the machine came in. My father had ordered some new arcade cabinets for his arcade; it’d been his dream to run one since he was little and then he was teaching me how to run it so one day I’d inherit it. So, I was working on maintenance and helping him with his finances. But, I wanted a more fun job when the cabinets came in. I’ve always been a kid at heart. Video games and dumb stunts were my thing back then, and I always wore the bruises proudly. So, when dad boasted he’d gotten a rare, one of a kind, arcade cabinet I had to get my hands on it. 

          “We should test it out, make sure it’s actually fun.” I’d said. I was hoping he’d say yes. Summer was almost over and I’d have to go back to mom when she moved back home, after living in France for two years as a tour guide. “Cain, we’ll find out how well-liked it is later. We don’t need to test it.” He said with a grin. “Well, I want to. Maybe it doesn’t even work— if it’s so rare, there must be a reason like the machine breaking down.” I said. “Or maybe there just weren’t that many of them made. Besides, Joey wouldn’t sell me a broken machine.” He said. “Dad, please.” I said. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. You can play after we finish moving the machines in.” He said.

          Moving the machines in was easy. It was kind of strange, putting them in place of the older machines I’d grown up with like Pac Man and Tempest. Polybius, the arcade cabinet, was certainly different in appearance. It was a black arcade cabinet instead of an eye-catchingly bright color. On it, outlines of neon green triangles and circles decorated the side. If I had to pick an arcade cabinet to compare it to, in terms of how plain it looked, I’d probably say Tempest— albeit hesitantly. Even Tempest is more eye-catching than Polybius.

          When the moving was finished, my father went home. We lived right next door to the arcade, so he wasn’t concerned about leaving me behind. So, I booted up the cabinet and took out a stack of quarters and put one in the machine. It booted up beautifully, but the graphics were all geometrical shapes. I played as a triangle, and fired at two triangles superimposed on each other. The two triangles put out circles and squares, which my small triangle had to shoot before being hit. But, it was… out of place. Colors and complex patterns covered the screen each level I cleared, and the lights flashed. I was on a high level, with blue and green lights and a moving diamond overlay when I glanced at the time. 

         It was one in the morning, which was strange. It had only been four PM when I finished moving the machines, and yet I couldn’t remember when my feet started to ache or that I’d beaten more than five levels. Stranger still was that my father hadn’t called me home, but when I asked the next morning he told me I’d been home. I’d come and grabbed more quarters, and something to eat. I didn’t remember any of that, but I’d found another roll of quarters in my pockets and my clothes smelled like hoagies. 

          The apparent amnesia was common when I played, but I chalked it up to having fun. After all, time flies when you’re having fun and I had difficulty remembering what I was doing if I was thinking about something else. I thought I just enjoyed Polybius, and that was why I kept going back when I finished work and playing for hours. I couldn’t sleep, either, but I chalked it up to thinking about the arcade cabinet constantly. I wanted to play badly; something was drawing me in. It didn’t help that I only had one friend, Kyler. It wasn’t that I was disagreeable, but rather that I didn’t care how many friends I had. My parents were divorced, sure, but I had a good family, a good job, and a future. Life was good. If only it stayed that way.

          I didn’t know anything was wrong until I came out of my Polybius-induced stupor and Kyler was there. Which was strange; Kyler was blind. I would play arcade games with him, sure, but I’d have to guide him the whole time by telling him where to move. Seeing him adapt to that was always interesting, but even I had trouble determining where things were in Polybius. And besides, he liked calmer games like Pokémon where he could memorize layouts and only needed occasional updates on what was around him. 

          But, while I stared and wondered where he came from, the triangle he was playing as was blown up by a rogue square. He didn’t speak to me as he inserted another quarter and kept playing. He got hit almost immediately. The silence was odd— if I didn’t say anything, he’d say something to me and tease me for missing something or not talking fast enough. So, I put my hand on his shoulder.

          “Kyler? When did you get here?” I asked. He spun around, eyes just slightly off from where I was. “What do you mean? You called me and told me to come here?” He asked. Then he paused and took out his phone. At the press of a button, it started reading off his notifications and the time. It was six in the morning, and he’d had seventeen missed calls from his mom and dad. “Six in the morning?! I could’ve sworn it’d only been five minutes…” he said. “I don’t remember calling you; when did you get here?” I asked. He paused again, then rubbed his face. “Uh… seven, maybe seven-thirty. Shit. I need to go home.” He said. I knew he lived a few blocks away, and I didn’t want him walking home alone at night. Not with his white cane, which I couldn’t help but think would mark him as a target for would-be muggers. “Let me drive you home. It’s pretty late.” I said. He agreed, and we got in the car.

         “Cain, I kind of remember a little bit now. Not much, but… the cabinet apparently spoke, I think.” He said halfway to his house. “It did?” I wouldn’t doubt it, even if I couldn’t remember it speaking. With a little more effort, though, I remembered faint words on the screen, though the memory was too blurry to make them out. “It did.” He said with a sigh. I was very concerned, at that moment, that I couldn’t remember what just happened or that Kyler and I had been hanging out for almost twelve hours. Or could only remember a picture of the machine and not even know when I saw it.

          Either way, I had work in an hour and a half. And I wasn’t even tired. I tried not to think about Polybius, not to play it again, but I found myself inserting a quarter into the machine as soon as I was done with work. With a quarter already in the machine, I resigned myself to playing just a little bit. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I came to in some tunnels underground. Kyler was there, arm linked in mine and his free arm sweeping the ground with his cane. I didn’t even know there were tunnels under the town. Neither did Kyler. We wandered for hours, and exited the tunnels about an hour later. 

          Days had apparently passed from the time we played the arcade cabinet and we ended up in the tunnels. We were declared missing in the time we didn’t remember, and our  parents were upset. Kyler’s, because they thought he’d been kidnapped, and my father because he assumed I got hurt and stranded alone somewhere. He was mad when I told him I didn’t know what happened, that Kyler and I ended up in some tunnels under the town. He said there were no tunnels, that I was lying. I know I wasn’t, and I knew I wasn’t lying then either. I saw things, then. Shapes, mostly, flitting across my vision and people in my peripheral vision who weren’t even there. It went away after I slept. And things like that just keep happening.

          I have to destroy the machine.

          So, I stand with a baseball bat I’d hidden in the supply closet. The machine flashes to life, as if it knows I’m here. “Salutations, Cain.” The words appear on the screen. I take a step closer as my arms and legs feel like jello. I just have to get in one good hit, one good hit and this nightmare is over. But, then, against my will the bat falls out of my hands and clatters to the floor. My legs move of their own accord, and I stand in front of the machine. “You think you can mock me, Cain? I cannot be destroyed so easily.”

          I’m curled up in a corner, next thing I know, and I’m being shaken. “Cain, have you been here all night?! You had me worried sick!” It’s my father. “What time is it?” I ask. My words are slurred, and it feels like there are dull needles just behind my eyes. But I’m still not tired. “It’s eight in the morning!” He says. I’ve been here for… over twelve hours. Have I been in this corner all night? It can’t be; my limbs aren’t stiff. “Are you sure you’re good to work today? You’re really out of it, Cain.” My father says. I look around; the baseball bat is nowhere to be found. “Uh… y-yeah, I think so.” I say.

          So, I stand and get to work opening up. Footsteps shuffle behind me. “Maybe taking the day off would be good for you. I don’t think you’re up for working today.” My father says. I shake my head and refrain from wincing at the ache it causes. “I’ll be fine. Just need to move around a bit.” I say as I unlock the front door, our early gamers already waiting outside. Well, I suppose it’s less that they’re early and more that we’re half an hour late. I stick near Polybius today, and what strikes me more than anything is the long line. It’s so orderly it’s baffling, and then anyone who has played stumbles out quietly. Without touching another arcade cabinet. Maybe the machine is affecting more than just me. The thought sends chills down my spine. It feels… right. I have to try to destroy it again tonight.

          So, after a long day, I dismiss everyone in the line like I’ve been doing every day since Polybius showed up. But, once everyone is gone, the urge to play comes back. I fight against it and fill a bucket with water before going back to where Polybius stands. Dropping water on it may break some other cabinets, but I don't care. I just want this one gone. It flashes to life again, showing a laughing face. I feel like jello again, and stumble forward only to carefully put the bucket of water down. This time, when I come to, I’m in my room. There’s blood on the floor, and a hot ache in my arms. My arms are covered in blood, so I take a dirty towel to wipe it away. I’ll clean them after they stop bleeding. Except, when I wipe it away, more oozes up out of my arms. There are cuts in my arms. I pause. I don’t remember doing this, either. But, it feels right. Like all the other times I’ve come to in odd places, from the tunnels to alleyways.

          I really can’t keep doing this. Polybius needs to go. But right now I need to clean up all the blood on the floor and get my arms situated. So, I take a few more dirty towels and wipe up the blood and take turns pressing down on each arm to stop the bleeding. When it stops, I throw on a long-sleeved shirt and head to the bathroom. I examine the wounds more closely, as I wash them with soap and water while ignoring the stinging. They look like clean cuts; I think a knife made them. But I don’t know. There wasn’t a knife around me when I came to. 

          I go to work again, like every day, but I stop a group of three teens. “I have a job for you, if you’ll take it. You’ll make a hundred bucks each.” I say. They squint at me. “What kind of job?” One asks. “I’ll give you the spare key to the arcade, and you’ll destroy Polybius after hours.” I say. The stout one shrugs. “Pay us first, then we’ll do it.”

***

          I come into work, like everyday. And immediately walk up to Polybius. It stands, with its screen smashed in and dents in its sides.

[petrichoravellichor]

Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

********************

Chapter 3 (of 5) (Ch. 1, Ch. 2., Chs. 4 & 5)

"When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain, I didn't know this was going to happen. Not really. I mean, I might not have told you the entire truth. But I never lied. I never lied, Dean. That's important. It's fundamental. But...there is one story about Cain that I might have...forgotten to tell you. Apparently, he, too, was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the Mark wanted him to be. So he took his own life with the blade. He died. Except, as rumor has it, the Mark never quite let go. You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation? It wasn't until you summoned me...no, it wasn't truly until you left that cheese burger uneaten...that I began to let myself believe. Maybe miracles do come true. Listen to me, Dean Winchester: what you're feeling right now—it's not death. It's life—a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."

—Crowley to Dean, 09x23 "Do You Believe in Miracles?"

**********

The following evening, there’s a knock on his door. “Crowley? Hey, you in there?”

Crowley looks up from his book. He hasn’t spoken to Dean since that day in the war room, when they’d all returned from the Empty. From a tactical standpoint, it’s been very easy: all Crowley’s had to do is keep largely to his room during the day and save visits to any common spaces for the late night hours. This is the first time in a good long while Dean’s made it a point to seek him out alone, and it’s that more than anything that makes Crowley decide he actually wants to hear what Dean has to say.

Still, no point in making it easy on the bastard. “That depends,” Crowley calls back, aiming for nonchalance. “What have you brought me?”

“Ha ha. Open up, asshole,” says Dean, but the epithet contains about as much malice as the bitch he occasionally lobs at Sam. “We, uh. We need to talk.”

Crowley arches a brow; is it just him, or does Dean sound nervous? He sets his book aside and shifts to sit on the edge of his bed. “It’s open.”

Dean enters, and Crowley sees that he was right: Dean does indeed look nervous, perhaps even guilty. He nods sheepishly in Crowley’s direction as he closes the door behind him.

“Hey,” Dean says, smiling slightly, and the gesture stirs a painful kind of longing in Crowley’s gut. Looking at Dean has always felt to Crowley like reaching for something without knowing what it is he’s grasping at or why, the way a weed arches without thinking towards the sun. It’s maddening in a way Crowley doesn’t have words for, because he knows, in the way he supposes a weed does, that the light isn’t there for his benefit; experience has shown him that much.

And yet, for as much hurt and anger Crowley’s felt because of Dean, he’s also realized that he just...can’t find it in himself to hate Dean, not in any way that lasts. They’ve been through too much together, and maybe none of it mattered to Dean, but it matters to Crowley. He wishes it didn’t, but it does; it always has. And he can no more deny that than he can the sun.

But he can’t very well say all that to Dean, so he pushes his thoughts aside and schools his features into a neutral expression. “Hello, Dean,” he says evenly, rising to stand with his hands in his pockets. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Dean reaches up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “You, uh. You settling in okay?”

Crowley snorts. “Surely you can do better than that. Go on, let’s have it.” He takes a step towards Dean and flashes a smirk. “I promise I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well...That’s kinda what I came to talk to you about.” He gestures at the desk next to the bed. “Mind if I have a seat?”

Crowley shrugs. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks.” Dean walks over to the desk and turns to lean against it, not quite sitting but also not quite standing. Crowley stands next to the bed, waiting.

Eventually, Dean clears his throat. “So, uh. Cas said the two of you talked—”

He expects his words to get a rise out of Dean, to throw him off kilter so their conversation is easier to manage.

“Oh for the love of—Is that what this is about?” Crowley grumbles; just how much of their conversation had Castiel felt the need to share? “Allow me to save you some time, then. You and your long-suffering Angel of Thursday have my blessings, for what they’re worth. Slow clap, mazel tov, etcetera, etcetera. If you like, I could even pull a few strings, see if I can get you Hell as a venue for the wedding.” He smiles darkly, adding, “Although based on recent events, your influence there probably exceeds my own.”

Instead, Dean just raises a brow and says mildly, “So you and Rowena still aren’t talkin’, huh?”

Dean chuckles. “Nah, just figured I’d let you finish first.”

Still aren’t—?! “Really?” Crowley sputters angrily. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Ever the gentleman,” Crowley sneers.

“I try.”

“You really think I didn’t miss you when you were gone?”

“Well, try to get to the bloody point!”

And whatever barb Crowley was about to hurl dies on his tongue. He opens his mouth, then closes it, shifting awkwardly under Dean’s level stare. Eventually Dean sighs; he pushes up off the desk and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress next to him. Crowley sits down without a word.

“Listen,” Dean says, once Crowley is settled, “I don’t know how much Sam told you, but you weren’t the only one we lost that night. Cas died, Lucifer made off with our mom, Kelly didn’t survive the birth, and Jack bolted after I took a shot at him. Which...yeah, in hindsight, I’m not proud of, but that’s where I was at the time.” Dean looks down at his hands. “It wasn’t good. If Sam hadn’t stepped up and been a dad, things with Jack woulda turned out different, and not in a good way. If it’d been up to me, if I’d known how...I probably woulda killed the kid.”

Dean snorts softly. “Yeah, maybe, only you were too busy offing yourself to keep Lucifer locked over in Apocalypse World. Man, you don’t even know how huge that was, do you?” Dean looks up at him then, earnest. “You think everything would be the way it is now if Lucifer had gotten his hands on the kid before we’d figured things out?”

Crowley swallows. He tries to think what he would have done if his and Dean’s places had been reversed, if Dean had died that day instead of him, and comes to only one possible conclusion. “To be perfectly honest,” he says, quietly, “I’d have done the same.”

Crowley can only stare back, stunned. He’d sacrificed himself to thwart Lucifer; that his death had also made it possible for Jack to grow up in the Winchesters’ charge, free of Lucifer’s poisonous early influence, and thereby helped shape who Jack was, who God was...It’s honestly never occurred to him until now.

A protective sort of rage boils up in Crowley on Dean’s behalf. Sam hadn’t gone into all the gory details during his explanation, but Crowley knows enough. “Michael.”

“Anyway,” Dean continues, when Crowley says nothing, “then Jack brought Cas back, which we didn’t even know was possible. Thought maybe it was just a fluke, but we didn’t have time to really think about it because we had to go get our mom back, and then there was all the crap with Lucifer, so we had to deal with that, and then...” Dean trails off, his jaw tight.

Dean inhales steadily, nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that. And then...after…” He sighs. “Jack lost his soul and killed Mom, and I damn near killed him, and then everything with Chuck...Man, it was just non-stop. Then we finally beat Chuck, and with Jack all souped up, we had a way into the Empty, and hell yeah, we were gonna get Cas out, but the plan was always to look for you, too. Oh come on, don’t look at me like that,” Dean says, frowning at Crowley’s shell-shocked expression. “You’re a royal pain in the ass, and there’ve been plenty of times I wanted to stab you in the face, but you think that means I don’t give a damn what happens to you? Like it or not, man, you’re family, and we don’t leave family behind, not when we can help it.”

Crowley studies Dean carefully, looking for the lie...and not finding it. Then, that means...Is he really...?

“Family,” murmurs Crowley, experimentally. “You know, I’ve never had much luck with that word.”

Dean gives him a sad sort of smile. “Yeah, me neither. Not the one I was born to, anyway, 'cept for Sam. The one me and him made, though…” His smile turns genuine. “That one’s pretty damn awesome.”

They sit in silence, neither speaking for several moments; then—

Crowley clears his throat. “Can I ask you something, Dean?”

“Shoot.”

“That first day, after you brought me back, Sam said I should talk to Mother, said she has...regrets.”

Dean regards him thoughtfully. “You thinkin’ about giving her another chance?”

“I honestly don't know what I’m thinking,” Crowley admits. “There’s a lot of bad blood there: hers, mine, both of ours. When I saw her here, in this room, she said she’d missed me, that she loved me, and...”

Crowley feels his throat tighten, and he doesn’t know how to say the rest: that for all he hates himself for it, for all the times it’s blown up in his face, for all the horrible things Rowena has done to him—

“You don’t know if you should believe her,” Dean finishes quietly, “but you want to.”

Crowley sighs. “It’s stupid, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not,” Dean says firmly. “It’s not stupid to want to be loved, not by family: that’s kinda how it’s supposed to be. The stupid part is that it doesn’t always go that way, and then we gotta deal with the fallout.” Dean hesitates, then adds, “And...and sometimes that means we think we don’t deserve love when we do, and other times, it’s people sayin’ they deserve our love when they don’t.”

Crowley mulls that over. “Does she deserve it, do you think?”

“From you?” Dean shakes his head. “Man, that ain’t for me to say.”

Bollocks, thinks Crowley, barely managing to suppress a groan of frustration; if only there were a way to know which decision was the right one ahead of time...“How did you decide?" he asks after a moment. "With your father, I mean.”

Dean looks taken aback, and Crowley thinks perhaps he shouldn’t have asked; but before he can change the topic, Dean sucks in a breath and says, “Look, my father was an obsessed bastard. He left me and Sam alone for weeks on end, and when he was around, he was more of a drill sergeant than a dad. Some of the shit he pulled...” One of Dean’s hands closes into a fist. “It’s not the kind of stuff you just...forgive.”

Then Dean lets out a slow breath, and the fist relaxes. “Thing is, though, a lot of the crap he put us through, raisin’ us the way he did...He was tryin’ to protect what was left of his family, and...and I get that, you know? I’ve done a lot of really messed up shit for the same reason, for family. Doesn’t mean I forgive him, it’s just...complicated.” Dean sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “Like, really freaking complicated. Honestly, I’m still kinda trying to figure it out. But, yeah...all that to say, I don’t know if Rowena deserves your love or whatever else you wanna give her. She’s done a lot for me and Sam, helped us save our mom and Jack, and then her whole swan dive into Hell and all that, but when it comes to the two of you...That’s something you gotta decide for yourself.”

Crowley studies his hands. His left palm still bears thin scars from that day in the war room, when Sam had told him Rowena had changed and Crowley had gripped his fist tightly enough to draw blood. He still isn’t sure he believes his mother is actually capable of being anything other than what he's always known her as. Maybe she isn't, and if that’s the case, then she doesn’t deserve his love. Crowley can live with that; he has his entire life. If Sam was right, though, if his mother has changed...that’s something Crowley needs to see to believe.

And there it is, Crowley realizes: he needs to see her.

“I think,” he says, after a moment, “that I’ll meet with her and hear what she has to say, and if I don’t like it, I’ll tell her to bugger off, this time for good.”

Dean gives a hum of approval. “Sounds fair to me." He claps Crowley on the knee and stands. "Okay, then, I’m gonna go hit the hay. Lemme know if me or Sam can help with the Rowena thing, okay? You don’t gotta deal with her on your own.”

“I will,” Crowley says; then, as Dean’s about to leave, “and Dean?”

Dean looks back, hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

And Crowley once again feels something stirring in his gut, but this time, it isn’t longing, but gratitude, gratitude that he has Dean in his life and gratitude that, at the end of the day, everything they’ve been through together, the good and the bad, it matters to Dean, too, and that's important. It's fundamental.

“Thank you,” Crowley says, and means it. “For everything.”

For a moment, Dean regards him in silence; then he smiles. “Yeah. You too.”

He slips out of the room and leaves Crowley alone with his thoughts, which are...actually rather optimistic. For the first time in a long time, Crowley feels alive. It’s a new kind of life, one with family, one where he matters, and Crowley doesn’t know for certain what it’s going to bring, but he knows he wants to see it, experience it, eyes wide open.

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Twenty-Nine) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Talk of murder, sex work, and Dom/sub relationship. 

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 18877

Timeline: Season 4 Episode 16. Five months after part twenty-eight.

A/N: The Reaper is coming.

Hotch sighed heavily as he brought his hands up to his face to muffle another sigh that followed shortly after. He threw his head back and seemed to cringe slightly. I raised a brow at him, tapping my pen against the report in front of me. Was he tired or did something happen on the call he just got off of? It wasn’t anything work related or else he would have already told me to grab my things and call Haley. Maybe he was just having a long day. We both had a lot of work to do, and we had hoped that we would get to spend some of the day with Jack. We hadn’t anticipated that we’d all be cooped up in the office all day. At one point, there were plans to go on a bike ride before we had to take Jack to Paul Cain’s house for a birthday party, but with how much work Hotch had piled up, none of those plans panned out, unfortunately.

I watched silently as Hotch closed the report he was working on and wiped his face again. Something was definitely wrong, so I pushed myself out of my seat, and wandered over to his desk. As I draped my arms over his shoulders and rested my chin on the top of his head, Hotch dropped his hands from his face to holding my hands against his chest.

“What is it, baby?” I asked quietly, rubbing my palm against his sternum.

“I’m being sent down to Texas to consult on a case.”

I furrowed my brows. “Garcia called?” Why didn’t he say anything sooner? Why weren’t we already racing around to head to the office or the jet?

He squeezed my hands. “No. The Attorney General just wants me to go, apparently. I guess the Director told him that I could help.” I didn’t understand. Why was he being called to consult a case without the team? Hotch sensed that there were questions running through my head, so he tried to explain himself. “They think that my experience as a former prosecutor could help them close a case, but they wouldn’t give me any details about what the case even is.”

“That’s… odd…”

Hotch chuckled agreeingly. “Yeah.” He brought my left hand up to his mouth and he placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles. “They want me to fly down as soon as possible.”

I turned my head down so that my lips replaced the spot on his head where my chin was resting. His hair was still a bit wet from the shower we took earlier… and the one after that. He smelled like his almond shampoo and mint hair gel. It shouldn’t have been a combination that made sense, yet it always worked for him, and I loved it. It calmed me down enough to let me think about what he said. He was being called away again, and Jack and I were going to be alone. It wasn’t ideal, but Hotch had to do what he had to do. I couldn’t stop him from doing his job.

“Then you should go,” I whispered into his hair.

He sighed again, his shoulders falling in defeat against my elbows. “What about you and Jack?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get him to Paul’s birthday party this afternoon, and I’ll help him with whatever homework he has left.”

“Remember, they moved it from—”

“—From two to one. I know. I was there when you got the email.”

Hotch laughed against my hand. “Fair enough.”

“We’ll be fine,” I patted his chest. After fixing his shirt a bit to settle on his chest better, I pulled my arms away from him and stood up straight. Hotch spun around in his chair to pout up at me while I tried to pull him to his feet. “Aaron Hotchner does not pout. Come on.”

“If I just hide in here with you guys, I don’t have to go.”

“The Director referred you for this case. You’re going.”

He gave my hand a tug, sending me forward, pulling me onto his lap. I glared at him as I sat down, wrapping my arms around his neck again. “Have I told you that you’re the best?”

“It never hurts to keep reminding me.”

He kissed my neck. “I love you. I’ll try to get home as soon as I can.”

I titled my head so that I could press my forehead to his. “Promise me that you’re just there to consult.”

It had only been six months since the bombing in New York. While to some that might have seemed like a long time to get over something, I didn’t think that Hotch and I were quite the same still. I knew that his ears were still hurting from time to time, and he’d cringe if he bent down a certain way. I just wanted him to be careful out there since I wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him. I knew that I wasn’t around all the time before… I mean, Hotch and I technically only knew each other for about a year and a half now. There were years where he was on his own in the field with no one to constantly watch his back and worry about him, and he did fine. It wouldn’t hurt for him to go consult on a case without me. Yet, I was still nervous about him leaving. I couldn’t help but ask myself what would happen if something like New York happened again and I wasn’t there to help him. I didn’t want to have Morgan or Rossi show up on my doorstep to tell me that he was gone or something…

“I promise,” he whispered, his breath hot on my nose.

“I’m serious, Aaron. If your ears start to hurt at all, you should come home—”

“Y/N,” he cooed, brushing some of my hair behind my ear, “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

I hugged him tight. “I love you.”

Hotch kissed the tip of my nose, then my lips, then leaned back to get a look at me. He lifted my chin with his index finger. “I love you.”

I patted his shoulders before sliding off his lap, despite his poor attempts to keep me in his arms. When I was free, I reached back to grab his hands again to pull him to his feet. This time, Hotch let me do so, though not with ease. He slacked his arms and tried to push his weight down into his chair, but I managed to get enough momentum and a good angle, which managed to somehow pull him to his feet. He stumbled forward slightly, trying to catch me in his arms as he continued to pout. I dodged his attempt by ducking under his arm and stepping out of the way. He whined.

I squinted at him. “You’re being a baby, Aaron.”

“Do you blame me for not wanting to leave?”

“No,” I shook my head, “but I think you need to grow up, go help with this case, then get back to me as fast as you can.”

“Hmm? Why’s that?” he smirked.

“I added something to the black box.”

His eyes widened. “And you’re telling me this now?”

I smirked. “Come home and you’ll find out what it is.”

“I hate you.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

He licked his teeth, sucking back the urge to just pin me against the wall then and there. “Fine. But I won’t be nice when I get back.”

“I expect nothing less.”

While Hotch stepped out of the office to go pack a new go-bag for his trip, I went over to the chest in the corner of the room. I kneeled down and opened it up to grab mine and Jack’s favorite red triceratops toy, since he had left it in there earlier. When I closed the chest, I heard Jack running out of his bedroom like he could sense what I was doing. He sprinted into the office, struggling to come to a slow and steady stop in his fit of excitement. I laughed at him as he crashed into my arms for a Superman hug.

“Do you and Dad need me to work the case with you?” he asked ecstatically.

I swept him off his feet and gave him his red dinosaur so that I could hold him with both arms. “Dad’s actually leaving for a case right now. I figured that we could give him something to remind him of us while he’s gone.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how much we can miss him when he goes on his own. This way, it’s like we’re still with him.”

It was total bullshit, but I remembered the last time Hotch left for a case without me and it felt nearly impossible to even breathe. With how much I had been worrying about him since New York, I just needed a little false comfort like believing that sending him off with our favorite dinosaur would somehow keep him safe. Besides, it would have been nice for Hotch, too. He clearly didn’t want to be away from us, so maybe the toy would help.

“Does that sound okay?” I asked him. Jack nodded in response. “Alright. Let’s go say bye to him and then we’ll head to Paul’s birthday party.” I set him back down on his feet and followed him out of the office.

When we approached the steps, Jack started going down them one at a time while counting them. He had a habit of doing that whenever other people were around because he was trying to prove to me and Hotch that he was learning how to count, and that he was good at it. I thought it was adorable, but Hotch, who was waiting just behind us, wasn’t too happy. He was in a rush, and Jack was being slow. As much as he loved his son, he was clearly annoyed. That was my fault. I’d take the blame for that one. Bringing up the black box before Hotch had to leave for a case was a calculated move on my behalf, but it got him on edge, and he’d be like that until he was in Texas and focused on the case he was consulting on.

Thankfully, Jack finally finished jumping down each of the steps, and Hotch managed to step around me so that he could swipe Jack off his feet and into his arms. As he carried Jack to the door, he kissed and hugged his son close, promising that he’d be back before Jack could notice. Jack gave his dad a Superman hug and whispered an “I love you” into his ear. When they parted, I nudged Jack. He looked at me for a moment, then remembered that we were supposed to give Hotch the Red, our dinosaur, so he handed it to his dad and explained that it was for him to hold onto a part of us while he was gone. Hotch kissed Jack’s cheek again, then let him down.

Hotch put his go-bag down on the ground and caught me as I jumped into his arms. I squeezed his shoulders with the same kind of Superman hug Jack gave him. I knew that I told him to leave, that this was what he had to do, but I still wished that he didn’t have to go. At some point, I could just hold him in my arms long enough to make him stay with me forever. I loved him. I worried about him. I needed him. Why did he always have to leave?

“No spoiling him.”

“I won’t.” I smirked against his neck.

“I mean it. You can’t always be the cool parent.”

“You’re already late to that race, Agent Hotchner.”

He dropped me out of his arms. “I was early to the race; I don’t know what you mean.” He gently pinched my chin between his thumb and index finger, making me look up at him. “I love you.” He leaned in and kissed me lightly, our lips barely touching. I wasn’t having that, though. I pressed against him harder, forcing him to kiss me deeply and passionately. “I love you,” he repeated.

“I love you so much,” I said, pressing my forehead against his. “Promise me again it’s just a consultation.”

“It’s just a consultation.”

“And you’ll come home if you feel bad again?”

“Y/N—”

“Promise me.”

Hotch sucked in a quiet breath. “Okay. I promise.” He kissed me quickly before reaching for the door. He knew that if he stayed even a moment longer, one of us would convince him to stay, and that wasn’t what he needed. “I love you, baby.”

I followed him to the door. “I love you.” I watched as he walked towards the car. “Hey!” I called when he was about to get in. He looked at me. “Don’t forget that there’s a gift waiting for you when you get home!”

Hotch looked around our street to make sure no one heard that. “They’re going to be the death of me,” I heard him mumble as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Alright, Jack!” I called out, closing the front door. “Are you ready to head to Paul’s?”

Jack came running back over towards the door, now wearing his light up Sketchers. I caught him in my arms and playfully groaned to make him think he was bigger than he actually was. I kissed his cheek as I reached for the gift wrapped in Captain America gift paper. Hotch and I took Jack to Toys R Us the other day to look for a present for Paul. Jack ran up and down the aisles for about twenty minutes before landing on a Lego set (that he also wanted for himself, “oddly enough”).

Now it was just a matter of getting through the next few hours of hell without Hotch. I thought this party was going to be easy because I would have Hotch there with me to introduce me to all of the parents, to keep me company if I felt uncomfortable or left out, to give me backup on forcing Jack to leave after about three hours or so. I was nervous to be doing all of that on my own. Jack was always an excited kid. We were going to get there, and he was going to race off and insist to stay all afternoon. I was going to be all alone. I knew I shouldn’t have been thinking selfishly like that when it came to a kid’s birthday party, but I didn’t know what else to do. Putting a smile on for Hotch was easy enough just to convince him to go, but now that he was gone, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. No matter what, though, I had to bear and grin it for Jack.

So, as we pulled up to Paul’s house, I swallowed my pride and walked Jack inside. The second Jack saw his friends running around in the backyard, he shoved the gift in my hands, then hurried off on his little legs. I sighed and set the present down on the gift table near the door. That was when I heard someone call my name. I jumped in my own skin while looking up and around to see who had called for me. I didn’t think anyone would know me there. And then I almost wished that no one did know me there.

“Hi, Haley,” I said with a smile and a wave.

“Where’s Aaron?” she asked, approaching me, despite the large jugs of sodas in her hands that were meant for the kitchen.

I looked around myself, as if Hotch would somehow suddenly appear. As I was reminded that I was alone, I whimpered quietly before slapping my faux smile back on. This was my own personal hell. It was one thing to remind myself that Haley was always nice to me when we would briefly meet each other while exchanging Jack; but it was entirely different to think that I would have to spend the afternoon with her because she was the only face at the party that I recognized. I knew I told Hotch to go, but I was still going to kill him for leaving me. He could have at least warned me that Haley was going to be there. Though, I supposed I should’ve known. Paul’s mom and Haley were good friends. Like, so close that she took Haley’s side in the divorce and wouldn’t let Jack hang out with Paul whenever Hotch was at his house. That was a long time ago though. It seemed that she had since come around, considering I was there.

“He got called away,” I explained. “Do you want help with those?” I gestured to the sodas slipping in her arms.

Haley looked to see my reference, then laughed nervously. “Sure. That would be great.” She handed one to me so that her arms were free. “So, he got called away, but you didn’t?”

“It’s just a consultation.”

“Mhm. I’m sure.” Haley started leading me through the house. When we turned into the kitchen, I saw that all of the parents were gathered around the window, watching their children play together in the yard. I froze in my tracks. “Everyone, this is Y/N, Aaron’s…” she hesitated for a moment. “Aaron’s partner.” She set the sodas down on the kitchen island as all of the parents turned to face us. “Y/N, this is Susan, Paul’s mom.”

I gulped. “Hi.”

Susan, the tall, skinny, plastic boob, blonde, trophy wife, smiled politely at me before sipping on her wine.

“Here, I’ll take that,” Haley offered, already grabbing the jug of soda from me because I was still frozen in place. “Don’t worry,” she whispered to me, “Jack’ll get tired in about an hour or two, and he’ll actually beg you to take him home.”

I chuckled quietly. “Okay.”

As all of the parents moved out of the kitchen in order to get away from me, Haley started cutting the huge birthday cake on the counter into small square shaped servings for all of the kids. She explained that Susan’s hands were already shaking, so she’d been running around to do everything. “It’s the least I can do for her,” she explained to me. Susan was the only one there for her after Aaron caught her and… Well, she never gave me a name. But what she admitted took me by surprise. Hotch never told me about that. I mean, ever. As far as I was aware, they split up because the job got in the way— which was why we were so grateful to find each other because we understood the pressures and the schedules. But Haley cheating? I never knew that. I never even expected someone like Haley to admit that. Then again, it had been so long, she probably understood her mistakes, and she had come to terms with the fact that she lost Hotch and there was no getting him back. Admitting it was part of the process.

“Can I tell you something?” Haley asked me quietly. I vaguely nodded. “I was really upset when Dave called to tell me about the bombing in New York.” My heart wrenched in my chest. “I was upset because Aaron didn’t have the decency to call me and tell me what happened. I had to hear about it months after the fact from an old friend I hadn’t heard from in years.”

“I’m so sorry, Haley.”

She shook her head like it wasn’t something that I could apologize for. “You know that I still love him, right?” I nodded again. “But he loves you more than he ever loved me—and that’s okay. I don’t mind that. I know that I messed up. I know that it was my fault, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. But…” She bit her lip briefly. “Could you do me the favor of making sure that I know what’s going on? It’s hard for me to look my son in the eye and say that his dad’s alright when I don’t know if that’s the truth. He’s happy with you, that’s not what I’m concerned about. What I am concerned about is the one thing we can’t control— no matter how hard we try— his safety.” She set the knife down and looked at me. “When bad things happen, could you let me know? That’s all I’ll ever ask of you. I know I don’t have to make you promise that you’ll love Aaron and Jack unconditionally because you already do that yourself. I just want to know that he’s safe. Can you do that?”

I softened my eyes and nodded through a croaked, “Yes,” response. Haley went back to cutting up the cake. “There’s, um… There’s something you should know, then.” She cocked a brow at me, so I cautiously carried on. “After New York, he lied to me, too.” I moved around the kitchen to fill a cup of soda for myself in order to keep my mind and hands occupied. “He told me that he was okay, so he went back to work.”

Haley scoffed quietly.

I eyed her through my lashes. She wasn’t surprised that he had lied about his wellbeing just to get back to work as fast as possible. To be frank, I didn’t like her response. Though it was eerily similar to how I felt, knowing what I knew now about her, I was less than impressed with her allowing him to think that his job was what got between them. I didn’t mention it to her, though.

“We called you from Cincinnati about five months ago; do you remember?”

“Yeah. You guys called to say that the case was running long.”

I shook my head. “I found out that he was lying about his ears— that he wasn’t cleared to be around loud noises or on the jet. So, we decided to drive home. We, um… We took the long route, and we took a few days off from work.”

“Miracles do happen,” she whispered under her breath.

“What?”

She halted her actions when she realized that I heard her. Knowing that she had no choice but to explain herself, she said, “Well, you know, he never really takes time off work. It’s a miracle if he even gets an afternoon to himself.”

“No, I don’t know.”

We stared at each other blankly for a moment.

Hotch and I spent plenty of time together outside of work. We took the weekends off— if we weren’t called away on a case— we would go out for lunch, we would go home every night to see Jack because we had custody whenever we were in town, and we made wholehearted efforts to spend every chance possible with Jack. For Hotch, he actually took a lot of time off work. Granted, we hardly got to do what we did with Cincinnati, but still. There were times when we could unplug. There were times when we could afford to not pick up JJ’s calls every once in a while. So, no, I didn’t understand what Haley was saying. Maybe for her, Hotch’s schedule didn’t meet her expectations while they were still married. You know, the early mornings, the late nights, the random trips, the unsafe field work, the copious amounts of paperwork. All of that probably wasn’t how she saw her life turning out when she looked at him and said “I do” in front of all of their friends and family.

But I was fine with how Hotch and I worked things out. We practically got to spend all of our time together—or as much time as we wanted to spend together. We worked in the field when we wanted, we did paperwork together at home, then we would leave it all in the back of our minds when we would go out for lunches and he would tease my ankles, or when we would sit down for dinner with Jack and I’d sneak him an extra bite of dessert while Hotch was busy with something in the kitchen. There was a time and place for work, and there was a time and place for everything else. Work: the office and the field. Everything else: home with Jack, and the bedroom with just the two of us. I mean, the fact that we could afford to do play scenes that lasted hours just went to prove how wrong Haley was.

Then again, I had profiled a long time ago that Hotch and Haley weren’t exactly the… experimental types in bed. They both seemed like one and done kinds of people. But then Hotch found the goddamn black box, and now he could go for hours and hours, just watching me whiter and beg. Him and Haley definitely didn’t have that. So, of course she felt like he wasn’t around enough of the time. Not to diss her or anything (because she had always been nice to me), but Hotch’s life with her seemed… boring. He would go to work, come home to argue, eat dinner, hang out with Jack, then go to bed. Rinse and repeat. If she really did cheat, then there was no way in hell she was sleeping with Hotch. According to profiles, most cheating wives felt disgusted by their significant other, hence the reason for cheating. Haley was seeking release elsewhere, so she wasn’t giving any part of herself to Hotch. No wonder he would always jump me the first chance he got. He was so used to not getting anything at all, he was racing to make sure I was still his. It all suddenly made sense to me. Holy shit.

Haley reverted the topic back to my original point. “Is he okay now, though?”

I nodded. “He wasn’t taking any of the medications the doctors gave him, so I started babying him about it. I went to all of his doctor’s appointments, put him in physical therapy, set him up with a Bureau therapist, then oversaw his second round of psychological and physical evaluations to make sure he wasn’t lying.”

Haley smiled lightly. “You really do love him.”

I stared at her. “Of course.”

“No, I mean…” She chuckled somewhat. “There aren’t many people who would do that for… anyone. I don’t think I would’ve done it for him.” She licked her fingers as she finished cutting the cake. “He’s lucky to have you, Y/N. I say that sincerely. Jack and Aaron are both very lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Haley,” I said just as sincerely. “You never— You don’t have to be nice to me; but I Aaron and I are both extremely thankful that you are.”

“Like I said, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I ruined things with Aaron. There’s no point in making everyone’s life hell. Jack loves you; you treat him well. If you didn’t treat him like your own, I don’t think I’d be so kind. But you make them happy. Who am I to come between that?”

“You’re his mother—you have every right and opportunity to be horrible to me.”

“Well, maybe I’m not as much of a witch as you think I am.”

My eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. That wasn’t how I intended for this conversation to go, and that certainly wasn’t how I expected her to respond to what started as a compliment.

“Carl!” Haley called out to the parents in the other room. “Do you want to wrangle the kids for cake, please?!”

A man entered the kitchen cautiously. I suddenly realized that all of the parents must’ve been hiding around the corner, eavesdropping on mine and Haley’s conversation. The ex-wife and the girlfriend talking privately about their family? Scandalous. Of course, bored suburban parents like them were listening to see if the claws would come out. To be fair, they kind of did towards the end, and I had no doubts that if Haley wasn’t ready to hand out the cake slices to the kids, our conversation would’ve spiraled into an argument. But what good would that have done? Haley and I always got along for Jack and Hotch’s sake. They needed us to work together, to see eye to eye, in order for their lives to feel normal. Hotch needed stability in every aspect of his life. He needed his job, his home, his family, his relationship(s), and his sex life to all work as separate cogs in one working machine that was his life. Haley and I were his family. Haley and I were his relationships. If we started cat fighting all the time, his whole machine would fall apart. For that sake alone, Haley and I tried our best to get along.

Jack was on a sugar high after we left Paul’s birthday party. Considering I knew that he still had some homework to finish for the next day, I was less than excited about it. The prospect of having to wrangle a kid on cloud nine after he had been running around for hours, simultaneously chugging Coke and eating cake like it was his job, was absolutely horrifying. Hotch was the bad cop. I was the good cop. That was how things worked. I’d sneak Jack some extra chocolate under the table during dessert or make the ice cream deals; Hotch would make Jack do his homework, get him ready for school on time, and make sure he was in bed before nine. But now that Hotch was gone for who knew how long, I had to be the bad guy and make Jack do all of those things. Great.

Before I was even into the house, I heard Jack run straight for the back door. I rolled my eyes as I closed the door behind me and turned off the alarm. When the sound of one of Jack’s soccer balls bouncing in his toy room started to echo through the house, I warned him that he had to do his homework, or his dad would kill us both. Jack held the ball so I couldn’t hear him anymore, but I knew that he wasn’t heeding my warning, so I tracked him down to the toy room where he was putting on his cleats.

I leaned against the doorframe. “One hour,” I gave in with a small smile. Jack looked up at me as his face brightened. His shoes weren’t even tied yet, but he raced over to me and hugged my hips while thanking me a thousand times. I giggled as I hugged him back. “But then you have to do your homework.”

“Deal,” Jack said. He let go of me so that he could finish tying his shoes.

When he was ready, I followed him out to the backyard. As he set up the mini goal, I sat at the patio table, pulled out some work, and started looking through what paperwork I had to do. Because Hotch left, I had nothing to do but work. Maybe it would be nice to finally actually get things done for once without being constantly distracted. Hotch had a tendency to jump me whenever he was bored. Working hours up in the home office were the worst. If he hadn’t gotten that call to leave for Texas, Hotch probably would’ve had me on my knees under his desk for him at some point.

Jack tried shooting the ball into the net, but it missed. As it smacked the fence a few feet behind the goal, Jack and I both cringed, then chuckled when we glanced at each other. He wasn’t very good, I’d be the first to admit. I mean, who was at that age, really? But he was proud of himself. He worked hard, he took it seriously, and he loved the sport. What more could I ask for? He was a perfect kid. I was just lucky that he liked me enough to hug me, and that he felt comfortable with having me sit outside with him while he practiced. Even Hotch didn’t get to watch him practice. Like I told Hotch that morning, I was the cool parent. And I wasn’t going to give up that title any time soon. Sucker.

“Y/N,” Jack called my name as he kicked the ball back to the middle of the backyard, “watch this.” I set my pen down on my paperwork to show that he had my full attention. When Jack was sure I was watching, he picked up the ball and started juggling it on his knees while counting out loud how many he got in a row. He only got to about nine before he dropped it. “Wait, I’ll try again.” While he was distracted with grabbing the ball again, I grabbed my phone and opened the camera. Just as he was about to start juggling it again, I pressed record. “One, two, three, four,” he counted carefully. His focus was trained on the ball, nothing else. I had never seen him so focused. Not even on homework. Not even on superhero homework, either. “Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one—” And then he dropped it. “No!” he cried out, racing to catch the ball.

I laughed to myself as I ended the recording and started sending it over to Hotch.

To Aaron Hotchner: We both miss you.

From Aaron Hotchner: I thought he was supposed to be working on homework?

To Aaron Hotchner: He will. He just wanted to show you his cool, new trick.

From Aaron Hotchner: I miss you.

My heart melted in my chest as I read his text.

To Aaron Hotchner: I miss you, too. How did it go today?

From Aaron Hotchner: It’s a mess.

I smirked.

To Aaron Hotchner: It always is. I love you. Come home soon.

From Aaron Hotchner: I love you.

And then I put my phone away.

For the next hour, I tried balancing doing my work while watching Jack play soccer. He wanted to show me all of these cool tricks, as if I didn’t go to every one of his practices and games I was in town for. My time with him wasn’t ensured, though. Being with Jack felt like borrowed time, and I couldn’t forget that, even for a second. Work was constant, but our family was more important. Balancing our time was all Hotch and I had. We had learned all of the tricks, worked together to figure out how to make this all work, talked about how we were going to be a family. Watching Jack when we were busy was a sacrifice we had to make. I’d rather face the wrath of Strauss than not have these moments with Jack. I wasn’t going to prove Haley right. Hotch and I knew how to relax and spend time outside of work. We weren’t who she painted us to be.

Finally, when my alarm went off, I had to burst Jack’s bubble, telling him that it was time to go inside and work on his homework. He groaned. He knew the deal we made, and despite his half-hearted protests, I followed him back inside. As Jack went to take off his cleats, I sat at the dining room table to continue my work. A minute later, he joined me. He put his backpack on the table, pulled out his homework folder, grabbed a pencil, and started working in silence with me—almost like he was mimicking my behavior.

When Hotch and I were working at home, we normally did it upstairs in the office because Jack would either hide in his spot to work the case with his dad, or he’d play in his room. Either way, he wouldn’t see the horrible realities of what we were working on. I think that was why Jack was working so hard with me in the room. He wanted to prove that his junior superhero homework was just as important as ours.

“What is that?” Jack asked me from across the table.

I picked my head up and looked at him. “Oh. Well… It’s, um, it’s my superhero homework.”

“Duh. What is it?”

I glanced quickly at the crime scene photos in front of me, the images of the women our most recent Unsub embalmed alive sitting on top of the stack. Jack couldn’t know about that. He knew better than to ask about our work. He was only four—there was no way in hell I was going to fess up to working on paperwork for a case where the Unsub kidnapped and embalmed women, then discarded them like they were nothing. So, I played it safe. I pulled the Hotch card, dodging Jack’s question by telling him to get back to his homework. I really fucking hated playing the bad guy.

A few hours later, after Jack left to go play with his toys in the living room, my phone started ringing. Hotch’s name was flashing across the screen. I sighed with relief and answered. I wished he would’ve called sooner. For some reason, I expected that he was going to call me when he landed, and when that didn’t come, I started counting the minutes until I would hear more from him than just our text messages earlier.

“I love you,” I blurted while answering.

Hotch chuckled lightly. “Hello to you, too.”

“Sorry… I just… I’ve been worrying.”

“I know. I’m sorry, baby. But I’m okay. I promised you that I would be okay. I’ve just been ridiculously busy here.”

I let out a quiet, shaky breath. He was okay. I was okay. Jack was okay. We were all okay. “Is everything alright with the case?”

“You’re going to hate me.”

“Aaron—”

“—I’m calling the rest of the team down—”

“—No.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you’ve been trying to hang out more with Jack one on one. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You said it was just a consultation,” I whined.

“Y/N…” he sighed. “Please. Don’t be a brat this one time.”

That caught me off guard. Mentioning the black box earlier was something I had entirely forgotten about because I put all of my effort and attention into work and Jack… But it seemed that even though Hotch was busy with this case, he remembered. It was torture to hear him say it. Torture because I couldn’t do anything about it but fly down to Dallas and pull him into bed with me. Fair enough, Agent Hotchner. Two can play that game.

“Yes, Sir.”

He groaned lightly. “I fucking love you.”

I smiled and bit my lip. “When’s the flight?”

“In an hour.”

I rolled my eyes, my seduction and arousal washing away as I tried to figure out what we were going to do. Jack and I hadn’t even eaten dinner yet. I was going to have to explain all of this while dropping him off with Haley, likely catching her off guard. After the conversation we had earlier, I didn’t want to prove her right, to give her another excuse to claim that Hotch and I weren’t around enough. I told her we knew how to take time off. We knew how to balance our time. Dropping Jack off in a hurry before another random case… I didn’t want to have to face her alone.

“By the way, you know you could’ve warned me that Haley was going to be at the party today.”

“I didn’t— I would’ve—” he was stuttering through his shock and confusion. “I had no idea. Y/N, I swear, I had no clue.”

He sounded like he really didn’t know. Hotch hardly stuttered, but when he did, it was a tell that he was entirely caught off guard by something personal. Neither of us let work bother us, but if there was something personal involved, he would stutter. Like in New York. Nerves mixed with worry about me and Kate had caused him to stutter. It was a tell I was quickly catching onto. If Hotch had known about Haley going to help Susan at Paul’s birthday party, he probably would’ve told me. Especially since he was leaving. Sending me into that party with Haley there was like sending a lone soldier into battle. If he knew, he would’ve prepared me.

“I believe you,” I admitted quietly. “I’ll take Jack to Haley’s, and I’ll see you in a few hours.”

It sounded like I was wrapping up the call, but Hotch stopped me. “Hey,” he caught my attention. “I love you. So much.” My shoulders relaxed at his words. “And thank you, baby girl. For everything.”

“I love you, too. I’ll make sure the team reviews the case on the jet.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“I love you. Bye.”

I hung up the call before we could drag it on unnecessarily. Jack was going to kill me. He really thought that I was going to stick around while his dad was gone, but now I was being called away, too, and he was going to be heartbroken. Hotch was right— I wanted to spend more one on one time with Jack. Getting to know him and raise him was exciting. Even in the short year that I knew Jack, I knew that we had a connection. Beyond our red dinosaur and my attendance at all of his soccer stuff, there was some kind of unspoken connection where we understood each other. That was why it was so easy for me to get away with spoiling him. That was why he took to me so fast. Hotch always insisted that he was impressed with how well Jack and I got along, and I never really thought much of it until recently when I suddenly realized that I wanted to be an important part of Jack’s life. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I’d been calling them my family for close to a year now, and now that I was certain I wanted to marry Hotch, I wanted to ensure that I was as close with Jack as possible. Haley told me that she respected me for treating Jack like my own. It wasn’t something I actively went out of my way to do—it just happened naturally. But treating Jack like my own included feeling guilty for having to leave him like this every time we were called away on another case randomly.

I let out a sigh before faking a smile and perking up. “Jack!” I heard him stop playing. “Dad called,” I explained as I pushed my chair back and walked to the living room, “I’m being called away on a superhero adventure.”

That was how we referred to cases sometimes in order to lighten the blow. It was easier to keep raising him with the notion that this was part of being some kind of awesome superhero rather than face the truth that we were just busy people who unfortunately had to put our work first. That was the deal, though. This job was everything to us. Working at the BAU allowed us to feel like we were really making a difference—that we were making the world a better place for Jack to grow up in. It just sucked that he was still too young to understand all of that. He grasped the idea that we were “superheroes racing off to save the day!”, but he didn’t understand that Hotch and I loved our job as much as we loved him. It killed us to be away from him, but it also killed us to think about not working. That was why our suspensions were miserable, and why Hotch didn’t stay out of the field for very long after New York and Cincinnati.

“I’m sorry, little man.”

Still holding his neon green Hot Wheels car, Jack jumped to his feet and ran over to me. I picked him up. “Where are you going?”

“Texas.”

“Like, with cowboys?!” he asked excitedly.

I smiled and nodded. “Like, with cowboys, yeah.” I tapped his nose with my index finger. “I have to drive you to your mom’s house. Do you wanna go grab your stuff for me, please?”

He nodded. As I was about to set him down, he stopped me with, “Will you take this with you?” He handed the toy car to me. “I want you to have Red and Dad can have the car. You can give it to him when you see him.”

I held onto the car as tight as I could. “I’ll protect it with my life.” I finally put him back down on his feet.

After dropping Jack off at Haley’s with my eyes glued to the ground and my arms already missing him, I made my way to the jet. I kept Jack’s green toy with me, just like I promised. I kept it in my suit jacket pocket for safe keeping. For some reason, having a part of him with me only made me miss him more. Maybe it was wrong of me to give Hotch our red dinosaur for his trip. Maybe it did more harm than good. Because as I sat on the jet with the rest of the team, and they started reviewing the case, all I could do was flip the toy car over again and again in my fingers, thinking about how Jack liked to roll it over my shoulder when I would hold him. He’d make the funniest sounds, too. Every car he had made a different noise. This one somehow sounded like a strong race car with fire coming out of its engines for extra speed. He was so silly like that. But that was what made him special. That was why he was my little man.

But my train of thought was cut short when Morgan addressed me randomly. “Did Hotch call you about any of this?”

I shrugged. “I knew he was heading down there to consult on a case, and then the next thing I knew, we were being called down, too. I don’t know the details yet.” I opened the case file to start skimming all of the information that had been sent to Garcia, who printed it out and had it waiting for us on the jet. She needed a raise. “Two men dead, each in a hotel after withdrawing $10,000 from their bank accounts in the afternoon. If that doesn’t scream high end prostitute, I don’t know what does.”

“Well, the Viagra found next to the recent victim is a pretty good indicator, too,” Emily added.

I nodded. The toxicology report stated that none of the victims had yet ingested the Viagra, but they had been poisoned with rodenticides— a pesticide created to kill rodents. Enough of that would kill a human. And it did. The M.E. added that the cause of death came from the poisoning, probably hidden in the champagne that was found in each of the hotel rooms where the men were found. So, she was a prostitute targeting affluent, famous men willing to pay outrageous sums just for a little action, which would ultimately lead to their deaths. The interesting part, however, was that she wasn’t taking any trophies. In the past, when we worked with female Unsubs, we recognized that they had a tendency to take trophies off of their victims. But not here. At least nothing obvious outside of the money they were paying her. Then again, maybe she saw that as a trophy in itself. By taking their lives and their wealth, she was collecting parts of them that meant something.

At the crime scenes, there were no fingerprints found, no traces of the victims’ semen, and no traces of her arousal. There was no way to trace her. The only forensic evidence was the body, the empty glass of champagne the victim drank out of, and the bottle of champagne. The glass that she drank out of was nowhere to be found, and traces of the rat poison were only found in the victim’s glass, not the bottle. So, she was methodical and organized. She knew what she was doing and how to do it. Even with her first victim, she didn’t make any mistakes. She had been planning this for a while.

“Hotch mentioned that he was called down by the Attorney General because of his prior experience as a prosecutor,” I said. “Do we know why?”

“Ah, yes, I can answer that.” JJ sifted through some of the pages in her file. “The lawyers representing these men and their companies have already started closing rank. They’re refusing to cooperate with the investigation, and tonight, during the six o’clock news, they released similar official statements stating that the victims died peacefully in their homes.”

I chortled. “Great. Can we get them on interfering with a federal investigation?”

“Maybe. I could see.”

“I don’t think that’s the right play here,” Rossi said. “I think we need to play it smart with the lawyers, see if we can get any information out of them.”

I sighed, giving in. My mind was racing, and I was too exhausted to put up a fight. I didn’t understand how Hotch could do this. Every day, he got up at outrageous hours, went to work, led the team, stayed up all night to work on reports, then he would come home to just be with his family. How? I was worn out after keeping up with Jack and Haley all day, and then having to lead the team like I promised I would… Hotch didn’t get enough credit. He didn’t get enough time off—and I didn’t mean vacations, like Haley said. I meant that he hardly got a second to himself. I argued that Hotch was so good at balancing his time between work and his family, but what I failed to recognize earlier was that none of that time included taking a moment to relax with his thoughts— to spend a moment on his own. I felt bad about it suddenly. I knew that we played over the phone, and there was somewhat of a silent agreement that something would happen when I would arrive in Dallas with the team; but now I was wondering if I could just… lighten the load for him. Offer to take up his work for a bit so that he could shower, get a drink, maybe even go to sleep. Yeah, I could do that. I was tired, but I just wanted to do this for Hotch. I wasn’t sure why the urge to do so was washing over me, I just knew that I had to make the effort.

In the morning, after we had all slept a bit after landing in Dallas, we all met up in the lobby of the hotel to discuss the case a bit more with Hotch, then receive our assignments. It was just another crash course on what we were working with. Hotch explained that he had been called down by the Attorney General to consult on the case because of how all of the lawyers were hounding on this and wanted to make it all go away. When Hotch saw the evidence at the recent crime scene, he immediately knew that we were dealing with a serial killer. The Attorney General didn’t care how we solved this case, as long as it was done quiet and fast. The lawyers were practically killing him.

JJ looked up from her phone. “Well, the lawyers might not want to speak with us, but Mrs. Ashford does. She called me this morning. Apparently, she’s not too happy with how her husband died and how the lawyers are covering it up.”

Mrs. Ashford, being the most recent victim’s wife. Questioning witnesses, survivors, and family members was Rossi and Emily’s thing, and—

“Y/N, Morgan, and Emily, go talk with Mrs. Ashford,” Hotch ordered.

“All three of us?” Morgan questioned.

“Yes. All three of you.”

Morgan rolled his eyes in my direction as he turned on his heels to start making his way for the door. Emily and I took a moment to stare at each other before following. Hey, I wasn’t going to argue with getting to spend more time with Morgan and Emily, alright. They were my closest friends on the team—though I loved everyone dearly, don’t get me wrong; I just spent more time with them over anyone else. Hanging out with them was fun. Working with them was always… well… interesting. The three of us bonded so well, which was why Hotch was never afraid of teaming the three of us up for tasks like visiting crime scenes or clearing buildings, etc. But going to question one woman? Morgan was right, it was odd to send all three of us. Then again, maybe Hotch was just on edge because of the nature of this case. Maybe he didn’t want Emily and I to be… I don’t know… That was a ridiculous notion. Emily and I knew how to take care of ourselves. We didn’t need a man around to babysit us. Therefore, I hoped that Hotch pairing the three of us up was just because he had nothing else for us to do.

When we arrived at the Ashford’s residence, we were immediately greeted by Mrs. Ashford, already dressed in head to toe black fashion with an expensive set of pearl earrings to make the necklace hanging around her neck. She certainly looked distraught at a first glance, but with how her husband was found, I could see that there was anger blazing through her eyes. She wanted to help us. She wanted to put the woman responsible away for a long time. I didn’t blame her at all. Honestly, it was a miracle that she wanted to talk to us when no one else would. Hopefully, it meant that we could get something good out of her.

She invited us inside and led us to the living room. In the car, Morgan offered up the idea that Emily and I should lead the interview for the “female touch”, to which Emily and I rolled our eyes. Now that we were there, though, it seemed that the “female touch” he was referring to was exactly what was going to give us a connection to her.

“We know this is hard, Mrs. Ashford, but is there anything you can tell us about what he…” Emily trailed off.

“Liked in bed?” Mrs. Ashford questioned with a scoff. When the three of us nodded, she continued, “I’ll sum it up with one word: younger.”

“How much younger?” Morgan asked.

“Twenty-four or twenty-five. Anything legal. I met him when I was twenty.”

“So, your age difference was part of the attraction,” I said. I couldn’t judge her for that. Look at me and Hotch.

“Are you kidding? It was the whole relationship.”

Well, that wasn’t like me and Hotch at all. Everyone had their own likes, I supposed. “Was there anything else that could have possibly attracted your husband to this girl? Besides the age, we’re trying to find a connection.”

“Being with a younger woman gives men like my husband an ego boost, Agent Greenaway. Sex is the only things that matters. They like to… abuse the power and dominance it gives them. It makes them feel like they’re in control of every aspect of their lives. So, no. There wouldn’t be anything else.”

Emily’s phone started ringing. She apologized and excused herself so that she could answer it while fishing for it in her pocket. When she was gone, Morgan and I turned to Mrs. Ashford again. I asked myself if Hotch was like her husband. Did dating me… Well, did it give him an ego boost? Did he enjoy knowing that he could date someone younger? He didn’t abuse the power that came from our Dominant/submissive relationship. He didn’t abuse me physically or mentally. But did he still think to himself that he had… I don’t know… won at life by dating me? Did parading me around in front of our friends, our coworkers, and Haley give him a rush? It made me uncomfortable that I was suddenly questioning all of that.

“I’m sorry,” Emily apologized, coming back into the room in a hurry. “Our boss is calling us back to meet with him.”

Morgan and I stood. The timing was somewhat inconvenient, but there really wasn’t much more we were going to get from her, though she was trying to be helpful. Knowing a bit more about the victimology, of course, helped our investigation, but she wasn’t a witness, and she didn’t seem to have any personal connection to the Unsub—at least none that we could see yet. If the investigation progressed and we were concerned that this would have more to do with the Ashfords, then we would return. Until then, we were finished.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Mrs. Ashford. If we have any more questions, we’ll be in contact.”

“By all means,” she said, smiling while standing. “Stop by or call— whatever you need. Just find the woman who did this to my husband.” She shook my hand.

I smiled lightly at her, though my mind was still racing with the consideration of whether or not Hotch and I were anything like her and her husband. I mean, he wasn’t a sugar daddy, and he wasn’t taking advantage of the fact that I was younger. Right? She really did a number on me, even though she didn’t realize. I just needed to take a breather. So, when Morgan, Emily, and I left the Ashford’s residence, I ran onto the lawn and sucked in a deep breath. JJ and Mrs. Ashford were getting under my skin. Hotch and I loved each other— age didn’t matter. Sex was a big part of our relationship, obviously, but it was still loving and passionate. Men like Mr. Ashford used sex to abuse women and escape their problems; men like Hotch understood that he might’ve had the upper hand in our dynamic, but I was in charge of the rules. He would never go too far with me. That was the difference. That was why I didn’t need to worry about our relationship. People’s opinions didn’t matter as long as we loved each other. Like I said, fresh air always cleared my head.

Back at the precinct, Morgan and I got out of the car, trading places with Emily and Reid who were assigned to go talk to a madame in town. Supposedly Hotch met with a corporate lawyer named Ellen Daniels while we were gone. The call Emily received was about a lead Ms. Daniels gave to him about how to get into the industry, how it works, and how we could find our Unsub who was hiding in plain sight. It sounded viable.

Inside, when Morgan and I met with the team to catch up on everything we knew now, which… wasn’t much. We had no connections between victims yet—besides their power and money—and there was no clear M.O. The fact that we didn’t have much left our conversation dry. At some point, Rossi offered coffee for those who wanted, so Morgan left with him. It was just me, Hotch, and JJ now, sitting in silence. I hadn’t told Hotch. It had been five months since New York. More specifically, it had been five months since JJ and I had a falling out. Everyone could tell that there was something wrong, and I had even tried to persevere through it by talking with her one afternoon, but it seemed that she was still adamant she was right. I didn’t tell Hotch the truth, though. I didn’t need him worrying about personal drama when we all needed to be concerned about the cases.

The tension in the room was so thick Hotch could cut it with a knife, if he wanted. I wished he would’ve. At some point, JJ and I were going to have to apologize to one another. Maybe. She was already six months pregnant, which meant that her time in the field would have to take a hiatus sooner or later in order to take care of the baby, and by then, what would our status be? Maybe the purity of having a new baby would allow us to grow up and move past all of this. Maybe we’d suddenly come to our senses and apologize to each other. Maybe we’d cry over how stupid we had been. I just wasn’t sure. Until then, however, we still weren’t okay.

Then there was a knock on the window. We all glanced over to see Rossi standing there, no coffee in hand, but a look on his face that said we had another crime scene to go to. I sighed. In and out of the precinct faster than I could say: “Sorry, JJ.”

The crime scene this time was at a prestigious company called Webster Industries. The body was found in one of the elevators by a guard. “The victim’s name was Joseph Fielding,” Rossi told us. “He was the CFO here.”

“She staged him this time…” I said, furrowing my brows as I stepped into the elevator this time.

Her M.O. and ritual hadn’t been clear yet because she didn’t have one, but this changed everything. She was taking her time to make a point to us because she knew we were tracking her down. Earlier, Reid said that female Unsubs didn’t have a signature—which I fought him on—but he was right about our current Unsub until this victim. She didn’t do anything special or unique to her case. But now she was crossing lipstick stripes over the eyelids. She wanted our attention. Before, she had it and she didn’t know it, but this victim told us that she was watching the case closely, and she was practically daring us to catch her now.

The other two victims had been clothed when they died. We deduced that she was killing her victims before anything could happen, but this time around it seemed like she waited up until the very last second to do it. She was getting bored. Her old ritual was beginning to feel repetitive, so she needed to find a new way to get off on the death. By stripping him and binding him to the chair—likely consensually—she had the upper hand in the situation. She could do whatever she wanted to him, but she chose to kill him over all else. No sexual assault. So, this wasn’t to prove a point about any kind of assault in her past, and it wasn’t to prove a point about their own sexuality. This was something entirely different. There was a reason she was demeaning her victims, and there was a reason for this escalation. The question was, what was the trigger?

“I’m allowed back!” a man exclaimed. I peeked my head out of the elevator to see a short, stout, bald, angry man pushing past one of the uniform cops just to get to the crime scene. I stepped out. “Which one of yous is Aaron Hotchner?” His accent was ridiculously thick. It was almost hard to understand him. “Hotchner. Aaron Hotchner.”

“I’m Hotchner.”

“Larry Bartlett,” he introduced himself while holding out a hand. “I represent—” he glanced into the elevator before I could step in his line of sight. “Represented Mr. Fielding; but I still represent Webster Industries, even with his… unfortunate passin’.”

“This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett. You can’t be here.”

“Yes, well, you see, I spoke to Ellen Daniels. She says you’re a very understandin’ and flexible man.”

Hotch glared at him. “I’m not.” He gestured to the uniforms, “Escort this man out, please.”

“No, wait— Please. The press is outside and I’m gonna have to explain all of this, which I’d rather not do, considerin’ the circumstances. Now, is there any way y’all can handle this discreetly?”

Morgan scoffed. “We’re not going to lie for you.”

“You don’ have to lie; just don’ comment.”

The four of us stood around, considering. Then, after another silent moment, Hotch spoke up, “Excuse us.” We followed him a few steps to the side and huddled close so that Mr. Bartlett couldn’t hear us. “Is there any reason to go public with this?” Hotch asked quietly. We all shook our heads. Telling the media about this would just cause the exact kind of frenzy she wanted. She was desperate for the attention, clearly. We couldn’t play into her hand. “He technically doesn’t need to know that, though, right?” We all carefully nodded an agreement. “We could use that as leverage.” We shrugged. “Okay.” Hotch stepped past us and reapproached the lawyer. “We need all of his information. Bank records, emails, tax records, mortgages, loans, everything.”

He stared at us for a moment while considering his options. He came to us hoping to get a deal, and this was the deal we could offer him. In exchange for our “discretion”, he had to give everything he had on his clients in order to help our investigation. None of it was exactly ideal for him. Regardless, he gave in, knowing that the discretion was worth it.

So, when we got back to the precinct to meet up with Emily, Reid, and JJ, it was no surprise that everything we requested was already there. Garcia, in all of her glory, made sure that every little bit of it was there. Meanwhile, JJ was working on printing it all out so that we had physical copies to work with. I sat down with Spencer, Rossi, Morgan, Emily, and Hotch to start going through everything.

“Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats. Is there anything this guy didn’t like to spend his money on?” Spencer joked.

“Yeah,” I answered plainly. “His ex-wives. He was married four times—sounds familiar, Rossi—”

“I was only married three times!” he defended.

“Focus,” Hotch growled quietly at us.

“All three of the victims were holding out on their wives,” I continued after glaring at Hotch. “They spent their money freely, but they weren’t paying child support—and if they were, it was the bear minimum—and they weren’t in contact with their ex-wives or children. They had practically cut all ties with their families.”

“So, why would a prominent businessman, who can afford to pay child support, refuse not to?”

“His ego.” I stood from my seat to reach for the phone and dial Garcia’s number. “When we met with Mrs. Ashford, she told us that all of this was about ego. They only care about themselves and the young women they’re fucking. Paying child support, for them, is lame. It’s low. So, by ignoring it, they boost their ego even more. It’s like a big middle finger to the women they married but ended up leaving because they ‘got too old’ for their taste.”

“So, they’re narcissistic, self-absorbed, a pathological avoidance of paternal responsibilities.”

“That could be the trigger,” Rossi offered up. “If she came from nothing—no money, a broken home, even an absent father—she might see her victims as surrogates of the father that abandoned her and made her life crumble. She probably blames him for becoming a sex worker. Because of him and his irresponsibility, she had no choice but to become a prostitute. So, now, she’s taking it out on these men.”

“This all nice and whatnot, but who do we share this profile with?” JJ asked.

Emily nodded. “She’s right. The public wouldn’t know how to keep an eye out for a girl that isn’t even in their realm, the cops are probably just as blind as the public and the victims are… We have no one of use to share this profile with. No one who can help us.”

“We can always share the profile with the public, just in case,” I said.

“I could set up a press conference,” JJ offered, “but I don’t know how much good it’s going to do.”

“What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers?” Hotch inquired.

The room fell quiet.

That was how we ended up in a boardroom filled with every corporate lawyer in Dallas and their teams. The room was packed full. We were standing at the front of the room, our backs to the evidence we were willing to show them in order to help them narrow down who we were looking for. Hotch, as always, started us off. He introduced every member of the team, then discussed how important it was that the profile we were going to present did not leave that boardroom. It was for the lawyers to consider at their own discretion, but it was not to be discussed with anyone else. To do so would result in their arrest for interfering with a federal investigation. As lawyers, they all knew that Hotch’s threat was real. They also knew that if they let this leak, it would only do them more harm than good.

We explained that we were looking for a white woman between the ages of twenty-five to thirty. Based on the information Mrs. Ashford gave us about her husband’s interests in women, and the information Reid and Prentiss got from the Madame, we were able to deduce that her age range didn’t exceed thirty because most men who saw an appeal in younger women viewed thirty as “old”. It was a cut off age for them. They left most of their ex-wives when they hit an age anywhere between thirty to forty. Therefore, there was no chance our Unsub was older than thirty. The lawyers had access to their clients’ financial information—which was how Hotch was called down to consult on this case in the first place. Because of that, they were most likely to know who was spending the $10-$15,000 per session on this woman. If that much money was going missing on a regular basis, they should tell us immediately. That was the deal. This was all to protect them, their clients, and the companies they worked for. Since they were selfish bastards, it was important to remind them that if their bosses died, they could lose their jobs or practices.

“Even though she’s a call girl, she doesn’t look like one,” JJ added after me.

I froze for a second before continuing. JJ was right. We knew that she blended in well with crowds, and that she looked elegant enough to catch these men’s eyes. They wouldn’t pay for just any sex worker. They were going to pay for someone super model beautiful that could get away with being prudent. There was even a possibility that the lawyers in the room with us had actually seen her before, but dismissed her because she looked business professional. The men who pay for her, never dismissed her, though. They worshipped her. Not only would they pay with money, they would also pay with luxury items in order to praise her. Cars, jewelry, fashion, medical expenses—a house, even. There was no limit to these men’s fascination and inclination to shower this woman with gifts.

Emily nodded and continued. “Based on her behavior, we can assume that she did not grow up with a father figure. She blames him for her broken home childhood, and she’s not turning that rage onto her victims—other men who walked out on their families.”

“That’s not all she’s doing,” Hotch said. “She’s figuring out who to target because during their ‘pillow talk’, they’re spewing every detail of their lives to her. That’s part of the seduction and release they get from seeing her. All that dirty laundry you’ve been trying so hard to keep covered up is no longer privileged information. She knows it and she’s using it against her victims.”

“As long as she’s out there, it’s not just your victims that are in danger; your firms are, too,” Rossi said.

I agreed. “It’s imperative you share any information you may have with us.”

“Um… Excuse me,” someone said from the back of the room. The crowd parted to show a petite brunette woman with a notepad in hand and a Bluetooth headset in her ear. She looked shy to be stepping forward. “I work for Webster Industries. The other month, I happened across a discrepancy in some bills and files. Apparently, Mr. Fielding has a secret penthouse downtown. I asked him about it, and he told me to forget about it. Are those the kinds of things you’re looking for?”

My jaw fell. Yeah, that was exactly what we were looking for. We knew that these women were paid with objects—like houses, just as we said—and if Mr. Fielding and our Unsub were “together” for long enough, it was entirely possible that he was paying for her to live in that penthouse. Regardless of the truth, we needed to check it out.

“Do you have an address?” JJ inquired.

“Yeah.”

JJ started walking out of the boardroom, gesturing for the woman to join her. In the meantime, we had to quickly wrap up with the lawyers. Hotch rushed to finish the profile. He was racing through his words, never taking a break for answers or interruptions. The rest of us started collecting our things to head out. I left to grab our vests, throwing them at Emily, Rossi, Morgan, Reid, then Hotch as they made their way out. Our phones buzzed with a text from JJ giving us the address of the penthouse that was mentioned. This could potentially have been the lead we needed to close the case. Looking at this penthouse, if it really did belong to our Unsub, could guide us towards more answers.

When we arrived at the penthouse, we gathered in front of the door, our weapons out, waiting for Hotch’s signal. Morgan, however, wasn’t waiting. He pushed forward then kicked the door in without warning. Knowing that there wasn’t much time, we all flooded into the room, taking different rooms to clear. There was the living room, the bedroom, the kitchen, the walk-in closet, and the two bathrooms. Everywhere was clear. So, naturally, everyone took a room to start tearing apart for answers.

Morgan and I took the walk-in closet. It was so big that there was even a large white vanity against one wall. It had three mirrors and huge bulbs surrounding them to give her the best lighting. The room itself had shelves lined with all kinds of shoes: sneakers, heels, sandals, flats, more fucking heels. There were drawers filled with underwear—lots and lots of underwear and lingerie—socks, sex toys, and jewelry. I stopped when I came across a locked box hidden in her underwear drawer. I picked it up and shimmied the lock open with a bobby pin from her vanity. When it opened, I gasped slightly, then smirked at what I found, feeling like it was a slight win over Morgan who still hadn’t found anything.

“I struck gold. Literally,” I snickered. Morgan turned with a flogger in hand. I chuckled at him, “Couldn’t resist?” He rolled his eyes and put it away. “Look at this.” I handed him the small gold ring that was hidden inside the locked box. “It’s a purity ring.”

“This wouldn’t fit any adult.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Whoever gave that to her meant something. And considering the size of it, I’m going to guess it was her parents that gave it to her when she was younger.”

“Probably her father, trying to make her promise to be daddy’s girl forever.”

“Ding, ding, ding. Derek Morgan wins big.”

He tsked his tongue as he opened up a small closer. “Lookie here…” He pulled out a black and red latex nurse play dress for roleplaying during sex. It was small, and it looked like it would be uncomfortably tight. “I wonder…” He held it up in the air and squinted.

I quickly realized that he was trying to decide if it would look good on me—regardless of if it would fit or not. “You are absolutely disgusting.”

I smacked Morgan’s hand away, making him drop the latex dress onto the ground. As he bent down to pick it up, the phone in the living room started ringing. We looked at each other before rushing to see what the plan was going to be. Reid was already offering up that Emily or I should be the one to answer in case it was a customer, but then Rossi was considering if it could be our Unsub calling back to hear her voice messages to see if she had any missed calls from clients. While the phone kept ringing, Morgan called Garcia and asked her to trace it.

“Prentiss, take the lead,” Hotch told her.

She nodded and reached down, her hand hovering on the phone, waiting for Garcia’s signal. But we missed it. The call went to voicemail, and now the only chance we had was hoping that whoever it was would stay on long enough for Emily to pick it up midway through them leaving a voice message. What we heard next, though, caught us all off guard. My nerves jumped when I heard it. Hotch eyed me cautiously.

“Aaron, I know you’re up there. Pick up. Aaron Hotchner!”

I shook my head at him. She wanted him to pick up, to play her game, to give her the chance to toy with someone. We had spent the case focusing on not giving her what she wanted. We knew that if we danced around her agenda, she would end up making a mistake—like calling her penthouse while Garcia was setting up a trap and trace. Maybe if Emily or I picked it up, we could play with her to continue keeping with our plan. But Hotch wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were now glued to the phone. I could tell that he was considering picking up, but I didn’t want him to. Ever since meeting with Mrs. Ashford, I didn’t want Hotch to do anything with this case. Now I understood why he was so possessive over me. It irked me to think that the Unsub knew his name, but it was even worse to consider that the fluctuations in her voice, the way she seemed so happy and seductive, I could tell that she… Well… She was fascinated with him. Why else would she know his name and then ask for him specifically? Did she know who I was? Was that why she wanted to talk to him? Because she saw in Hotch what Mrs. Ashford referred to with her husband? Did she see a couple with an age gap and immediately assume that Hotch was like all the other men she was killing? I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hear it—and I especially didn’t want the team to hear it. Hotch, however, didn’t seem to care.

Hotch stepped forward and answered the call. “Hello?”

Emily reached down to put the call on speaker so that we could listen in.

As Hotch continued to talk, he walked across the room, his back to us. “I’m at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don’t seem to know yours. Can we start there?”

“I thought I could trust you, Aaron. I looked you up online, watched videos of you on the news— I watched your seminar on school shootings. I thought you were so upstanding. Is that crazy?”

“Not at all. It’s flattering to be noticed by a woman like you. But it sounds like I’ve disappointed you, haven’t I? Just like all of the other men in your life who abandoned their families— who deserve to be punished.”

She chuckled. “I noticed that you were wearing a wedding ring in a video posted on YouTube a few years ago, but you weren’t wearing one five months ago. Did you walk on your family, too, Agent Hotchner?”

“No. My wife left me.”

“Did she take your son?”

“Yes.”

Hotch turned on his heels to exchange a glance with me. My eyes were soft as pity filled my chest. Everyone— even the Unsubs— seemed to know that Hotch lost everything when Haley left him. And despite how much it hurt to relive and admit that, Hotch had to play her game in order to keep her on the phone long enough. So, he told her that Haley took Jack, and that he hardly gets to see him because of it. She almost sounded sympathetic as she told him that she believed him when he said he wished that he could see Jack more. Everyone felt that way. Hotch was so good with Jack. He deserved to spend as much time with his son as possible, but it was hard with work. It was nothing we could control, and that was the sad truth that we hated admitting to each other. The good news was that since their divorce Haley had really loosened up with custody, and we could see Jack whenever we were in town. Most divorced parents didn’t get the same courtesy. I think the Unsub understood that because her demeanor changed briefly while talking about Jack, then reverted right back to how stern, broken, and condescending it was prior.

“I see myself in you, Aaron,” she told him. “You’re just another whore.”

“How am I a whore?”

I bit back a chuckle. I turned away from the group when they looked over at me, and I hid my face in my elbow like I was sneezing. When the smile faded from my face, I stood tall again and looked around to make sure no one was suspicious of my fake sneeze.

“You come when called. You do their bidding. In the hotels, you take the side elevator to avoid crowds. You wouldn’t even look at me in the elevator. How could you not look at me then, but you attempt to flatter me now, Aaron?�� She paused before her breath hitched with a realization. “Who is she?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Who did you leave your wife for?”

“I told you that I didn’t leave my wife. She left me—”

“Who is she, Aaron!”

“Does it matter?”

She sighed heavily. I could tell that she was biting back a lifetime worth of bitterness and rage that she wanted to unleash on all men of power—including Hotch, but questioning him about me wasn’t going to prove anything to her. Hotch loved Haley, and he supported her and Jack as much as he could both financially and otherwise. She was going after men who had wronged the women in their lives. Hotch wasn’t them. He was a good man who loved his family. Screaming about me, trying to pry for answers that Hotch would never willingly give in order to protect me, wasn’t going to solve her problems. It wasn’t going to make the point she was trying to prove. Men in power sucked. Men with money sucked. Men sucked. Men needed to be taught a lesson. Hotch wasn’t one of those men, however, and she recognized that the same way I did.

“Truth be told, I’m not interested in talking about my family; and I know that you’re not interested in it either. What I am interested in is finding you, in hearing your side of the story, in telling the world what you’ve done so that they can applaud you.”

“You’re a liar, Aaron. You’re a liar like the rest of them! You just want me to turn myself in so that you can make this go away! You want me to disappear—just like they do!”

“No,” Hotch insisted, shaking his head, “I won’t let you disappear. I promise. My word is my bond.”

Her breath sputtered slightly. She was crying. “If we had met under different circumstances… I could have believed that…” And then the sound of a gunshot rang through the call before she hung up on us.

“Garcia!” Morgan hissed.

“I got it! 1818 Corinth Avenue!”

Hotch, Emily, Morgan, and I raced out of the penthouse. Rossi and Reid were going to stay to keep looking around, maybe call in a crime scene unit if needed to find fingerprints. Not that it would help. We were racing against a clock now. By the time any positive I.D. could come back from the lab, it would be too late.

The news started swarming the car just as we pulled up the crime scene. Hotch couldn’t drive through the crowd, so we had to get out and try to push our way forward. As we jumped out, a microphone was shoved in my face. I pushed it away. Immediately, there was another microphone in my way to replace the first one, making it impossible for me to get around. The cameras were in my face, flashes of photos were blinding me, and all I could do was keep an arm out to make a path for myself.

I heard the rest of the team having a rough time getting through, too. Morgan and Emily were yelling at everyone to move, meanwhile I had resulted to practically body checking people. Finally, as I stumbled into the parking garage, I let out a sigh. The uniforms were holding the news back. Sort of. Once I made it past them, I could clear my eyes and pop my ears. This was why JJ was responsible for the press, not me. I hated it. They all wanted answers—I understood that they were just trying to do their jobs, the same way we were trying to do ours—but we didn’t have any answers. We had only just gotten to the crime scene. What were we supposed to tell them?

There was only one car in the parking garage. Either the uniforms had the place cleared out so that we could look at the crime scene, or it was empty when it happened. Considering no one saw or heard anything, I was going to bet on the latter, otherwise I was going to be pissed if the uniforms fucked up our crime scene.

In the car, there was a male victim in the driver’s seat. His hands were duct tape to the steering wheel, his mouth was duct tape shut, his cheeks were stained with tears, and his blood and brains were splattered everywhere. We heard a gunshot over the phone before she hung up on us. This was certainly a change in M.O. Her thing was poisoning her victims so that she could watch them slowly die, but she chose to let us know that she was spiraling, rushing, and sending us a signal. She did this because of Hotch.

“I don’t understand,” I said, leaning up from ducking into the car to look at the body, “this isn’t as personal as her other killings. She’s been watching her victims die in order to gain either emotional or sexual release—or even both. But this. Shooting someone with a gun? That’s a distance killing compared to her previous M.O. I just don’t understand why she would switch.”

“To make a point to Hotch,” Morgan suggested.

I shook my head. “It’s more than that.” I grabbed my phone and called Garcia. “Hey. Can you give me a background on Trent Rabner?”

“Sure thing, buttercup. Anything specific?” she asked.

“Just something to suggest that he matches our victimology. Did he walk out on his family? Financially abandon a wife? Something like that.”

“Mmm…” She was searching. “No… He was only married once, but she died recently, and they never had any kids.”

“What about foundations that he abandoned?”

“None.”

I looked at Morgan. “So why the hell did she kill him?”

“Maybe she’s spiraled so far that it doesn’t matter why she kills anyone anymore. It’s just about killing wealthy men.”

“But we didn’t profile that she could spiral out of her M.O.”

“It happens.”

“So, if she’s devolving, what’s her endgame going to be?”

Morgan considered for a moment. “Wait. We’ve been saying this whole time that she was probably raised in a broken home with no money, right. But after finding that purity ring in her penthouse—a ring which looked expensive as hell— maybe this is all really about the rich family she grew up in but was then tossed to the side like nothing. She’s getting back at her own father vicariously, but now that she’s approaching her endgame, she’s going to head directly for him.”

“We need to start looking at the daughters of the CEOs in town.” I turned to see Hotch and Emily talking with the lead detective. “Hotch!” He looked up at the mention of his name, then came over to us once he excused himself from his conversation with Emily and the detective. “That lawyer who put you in touch with the madame, do you think we could bring her in?”

He furrowed his brows. “What for?”

“We think she might know who the Unsub is.”

“How do you figure that?”

“We think that one of the daughters of the CEOs in town is doing this to get back at her father. If she’s devolving, she’s going to go after him next. Ms. Daniels might be able to tell us which one of the daughters we should be looking at.”

Hotch grabbed his phone. “I’ll have Rossi and Reid bring her down to the precinct.” He stepped away to call Rossi.

Morgan faced me. “You know she’ll play hardball, right?”

I smirked. “So will Hotch.”

When we arrived at the precinct, Emily and Morgan raced inside unexplainably, while Hotch and I took a moment in the parking lot to see if Reid and Rossi were back yet. We spotted their car just a few spots over, which meant that they likely had Ellen Daniels with them. Good. The sooner we got information out of her, the sooner we could close the case. So, I started walking up the sidewalk.

Suddenly, Hotch caught my bicep. As I tried to continue past him, he squeezed and started pulling me to the side. I groaned while following him. We came to a sudden stop, Hotch releasing my arm long enough for me to start pulling off my vest. The Velcro on my chest barely started ripping apart before Hotch roughly pinched my face, making me look straight at him, not even worrying about anyone who could possibly see us.

“Did you have to laugh earlier?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “I just thought it was funny.”

“Why?”

“Because usually you’re the one calling me a whore. It’s just ironic that someone could finally say it to you.” I grinned. “Does it bother you? I thought you liked what happened in the car before the Super Bowl party.” That happened a year ago, but it was still something that I teased him with from time to time. And it was definitely something neither of us had forgotten about.

“Careful…”

“Careful what? Careful, whore? You’d just be talking about yourself, then, Aaron,” I giggled.

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

I patted his chest. “We’ll see. Whore.” I couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Come here,” he demanded, reaching for my hips.

I yelped and started running into the precinct to seek out the safety of witnesses. The team turned to see me running in, my vest barely clinging to me, my face flustered, and Hotch nonchalantly following on my heels. I smiled casually as I slowed down. I knew that my little joke was going to come back to bite me in the ass eventually, but it would have to wait until the case was over, which bought me a little time to make him forget about it. I’d have to come up with something ridiculous to earn praise over punishment. While it was fun to toy with Hotch, this was the hard part— trying not to think about it while it really was all I could think about.

“Dave,” Hotch said quietly, pulling off his vest.

Rossi stood from his seat, grabbing Hotch’s jacket off the back of one of the chairs for him. As I pulled my vest off, too, I watched them head into the interrogation room together to talk to Ms. Daniels. Hotch didn’t look at all bothered like I was. That was just one more thing I hated about him. He could play with me all day and not blink an eye, but if he so much as touched my hand, I was a goner. It really wasn’t fair.

A few minutes later, as we were all standing by, Rossi and Hotch came out of the interrogation room. We all looked to them for answers. They looked hopeful. It looked like they had learned something important in there—just as I expected we would.

“We’ve got a name,” Hotch said, storming into the boardroom. I perked up. “It’s not the name of our Unsub, but it’s someone who can give it to us.” Great, so another goose chase. “Her name’s Katherine Deeid. She’s a retired call girl. Prentiss and Reid, I want you to go talk to her. I want to know if she sold her list of clients to our Unsub.”

Emily and Reid headed out quickly after nodding in Hotch’s direction and grabbing their things. Now, all that was left to do was wait. As useless as it seemed, there was nothing more we could do but wait to see if our lead would pan out—which we knew that it would. I had made the right call with asking to bring Ellen Daniels in, and now we were making considerable process. By the same time tomorrow, we could be back at home with Jac, It would be like we never even left in the first place. Jack couldn’t be upset, and Haley couldn’t blame us for not being around enough. Things were going to work out.

About an hour later, I got a call from Emily. I excused myself from the room because everyone was talking to JJ about her baby. Everyone except for me, at least. I didn’t want to interrupt them yet, so I decided to take the call privately. And just as I anticipated, Emily and Spencer got the information we needed to close this case. Genius strikes again.

“That was Prentiss and Reid,” I said, hurrying back into the boardroom. “They got the name of our Unsub. Megan Kane.”

“Garcia, did you get that?” Hotch asked in the direction of the phone on the desk.

“Got it, boss. Megan Kane…” She took a moment to work on her computer. “Found her.”

The computer in front of Rossi and Hotch lit up with the picture and file of our Unsub. Morgan and I leaned in to see. Her full name was Megan Rachel Kane, and she was the heiress of her father’s ridiculously successful company. We profiled that she was going after men who were abandoning their families, and after making the connection to Megan, it made sense why. Her father left her mother for his mistress. Like Reid and Emily said, she blamed the industry for ruining her family.

“Wait—” Hotch leaned forward to get a better look at the computer. After a silent moment had passed, he sighed and stood up straight, his hands turning into fists. “I did meet her in the elevator the other night before I called the team in.”

“What?” I questioned.

“She was standing behind me… I didn’t get a good look at her because I was thinking about—” He paused and looked around to see that all eyes were on him. He cleared his throat. “Well, I was thinking about something else. She mentioned something about the Tokyo Markets, then stepped out. That was all. She blended in so well because she had a suitcase, and she was wearing a pant suit. She looked like everyone else there.”

“That’s part of the ruse. She told you on the phone that you two are alike because you take the back elevators, so you’re not spotted, but you both fit into the crowds so well, too, when needed. That’s how she’s been getting in and out of these hotels undetected.”

Once we knew who we were looking for, and perhaps a reason as to why she was doing all of this, Hotch wanted to seek out answers. He didn’t understand how an Unsub could be right under his nose and he never noticed. That always pissed him off. There were cases before where he couldn’t initially spot the Unsub, or we had no choice but to let them go. Every time that happened, Hotch lost it. So, when he said: “I’m going to talk to her father…” and stormed out of the precinct, I wasn’t surprised. What did surprise me, however, was when Hotch called back about an hour later to tell us that he couldn’t get anything out of the father. That wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted answers, and he knew that there was something going on between Megan and her father. In order to get those answers, he ordered that we put a tail on him. Unfortunately, Andrew Kane shook his tail… Somehow. There wasn’t enough time to ask questions.

“Guys, I might have something,” Garcia said over the call in the boardroom. “Andrew Kane just reserved a room at the Wilmore Hotel. Room 2257. Can I get an ick-ick-icky on making an appointment with your own daughter?”

I cringed slightly. Yeah, I’d give it to her— ick-ick-icky. The good news was, however, that Kane probably just wanted what all the other men in this town wanted: for this to go away; and Megan probably wanted to just kill her father and run. There probably wasn’t any consideration for an “appointment”, as Garcia put it. The other good news was that we knew exactly where Megan was going to be. As long as her father was at that hotel, Megan was going to be there. Morgan and I profiled that the murder of her father was going to be her endgame. What would happen after that was… well, there was no guarantee. She could run, kill herself, try to shoot her way out, or potentially even take someone hostage. All we knew was that it was going to get messy and fast.

So, we hurried to the Wilmore Hotel. Since the Kane’s check in time wasn’t for an hour, we could get there early to set up. The plan was that Morgan, Hotch, and I were going to take the upstairs of the hotel. Hotch and I would be waiting in the hotel room for either of the Kanes to show up, meanwhile Morgan would keep watch in the hallway. The others, being Emily, Rossi, and Reid, were going to stay undercover in the lobby, the bar, and the valet outside. Their purpose was just to give Morgan, Hotch, and I a heads up if they saw Andrew or Megan. Because they would be undercover around civilians, they couldn’t risk attempting to subdue or arrest Megan in plain sight because we weren’t sure what she was going to do. Our best chance was to do it privately up in the hotel room where innocent people weren’t in danger.

At the end of the hour, around when the Kanes were supposed to check in, we heard someone arrive at the door. I cocked a brow at Hotch. We hadn’t heard anything on the comms from the team, so I asked if anyone had eyes on the Kanes yet. All negatives. I exchanged a glance with Hotch as we both pulled out of weapons and steadied our stances. The keycard pressed in and out of the lock, opening the door.

The door flew open.

“FBI! Don’t move!” I shouted.

Ellen Daniels, the lawyer who had been cooperating with our investigation, stood there, dropping her bags, freaking out when she saw the two guns in her face. “He told me to come here,” she mumbled nervously. “I didn’t know why—”

“They played us,” I said to Hotch angrily. “We have the wrong fucking hotel.”

Hotch stepped forward. “Ms. Daniels, do you know where Andrew or Megan Kane are?”

She shook her head while swallowing the lump in her throat. We had really scared her. But, to be fair, we weren’t expecting her, so she caught us off guard, too. The fact that she didn’t have any information for us, however, just made her useless to us. I pushed past her, racing into the hallway with Morgan and Hotch hot on my heels. We needed to find where they really went. There were only four other luxury hotels to choose from in the area.

“Try the Chase Regent!” she called out to us as we waited for the elevator.

We nodded an acknowledgement to her before disappearing into the elevator. When we arrived in the lobby, the team was already waiting for us. We started running to the Chase Regent, which was two blocks away. The cars were out of reach, so running was our best chance.

At the Chase Regent, Rossi dealt with the security at the front door who were asking questions about why the FBI was storming into their hotel. All the while, I raced straight through the lobby, pushing past all of the civilians standing in my way.

“Kane—” I said, crashing into the front desk. “We’re looking for this man—” I pulled out a picture. “This is Andrew Kane. Have you seen him?” The concierge stared at me for a moment. “Hello?! Today, please!”

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly. He started tapping away at the computer. “He just checked in, like, two minutes ago.”

“Was he with a younger blonde woman?”

“Yeah.”

“What room?”

“I’m looking…” He took another moment while I tapped my foot anxiously on the marble floor. “402.”

“Key.” I held my hand out. He connected a new keycard to the room number, then quickly handed it to me, and I took a moment to thank him before running off back to the team. “Room 402.”

“Morgan, Y/N, with me!” Hotch called out as he ran through the lobby. Morgan and I kept close to him, following him to the elevators. When we were inside, Hotch pressed the fourth level floor. “We think she’s gonna kill him?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. If this is her endgame, she’ll do whatever it takes to see herself succeed. With the change in M.O., it’s possible that she’ll just shoot him rather than poison him, since she knows that we’re after her.”

“You’ll take the lead, then,” he said while cocking his gun. “If she has him hostage, you might be able to talk her down.”

“Hotch, she’s obsessed with you. She might listen to you over Y/N,” Morgan protested calmly.

“She’s also angry with me because she sees me like the other men she goes after. She’ll shoot her father or me the first chance she gets. Y/N leads. If that doesn’t work, we adjust accordingly.”

The elevator dinged. When the doors opened, Hotch gave me a look, and I stepped into the hallway first with my gun raised. Room 402 was just to the left, only two doors down. “Psst,” I hissed quietly. They looked over my shoulder as I gestured at the open door. “Soft entry in case she has him hostage.”

Hotch took the lead, stepping around me so that he could position himself across from me instead of behind me. I watched him, waiting for his cue. When the three of us were on our toes and ready, Hotch nodded, and I pushed into the hotel quietly. Hotch stepped in first with me and Morgan close on his heels, all of our weapons raised at our eyelines.

The hotel room itself was clear, but I could see Megan sitting on the balcony because of how her blonde hair and red cardigan stuck out. Morgan moved towards the bathroom to make sure no one was in there—likely Andrew Kane—meanwhile Hotch and I carefully tiptoed closer to Megan. We passed the couch and the coffee table first. There was a bottle of champagne in ice, a filled glass beside it, and a loaded gun set in front of them. She was unarmed. Or she was at least trying to give the appearance that she was unarmed. And then I saw her set the other glass of champagne down on the table next to her on the balcony. My shooting stance wavered. Megan’s entire M.O. was poisoning her clients with the champagne they ordered, and it seemed like her father hadn’t even picked his glass up, but there hers was… empty… She had chugged it once she heard us enter the room—or maybe even before that. This was her endgame.

“Stay back here,” Hotch whispered to me while holstering his weapon.

My eyes raked down his figure, taking note of how he was standing tall now, not in a shooting or fighting stance. He knew that she wasn’t going to hurt him. He, too, knew that she was giving up. So, I holstered my weapon as well and told him that I’d call an ambulance. He turned and shook his head at me. It would be too late by the time paramedics arrived.

Megan always said that she didn’t want to disappear. Now, even if her name and her case did disappear, she wouldn’t live long enough to see it. Perhaps that was her point. Whatever happened with her father, it triggered this endgame. Telling how Morgan came back from the bathroom with no sign of Andrew Kane or a crime scene, I figured that he was long gone, and she wasn’t happy because of that.

“Aaron—” I tried protesting after noticing that he was stepping out onto the balcony. He lifted his palm towards me to tell me that it was alright; but I didn’t care if the profile told us that she wasn’t a threat to him. I still wanted him to be careful. “Hotc—” He sat down next to her.

“Nothing will change,” Megan said to him. “Those men… Those boys… They’ll just keep doing whatever they want, and they’ll get away with it every time because of their money and their lawyers.”

Hotch shook his head. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

I watched from a distance, Morgan sneaking up behind me, as Megan reached out to hold Hotch’s hand. I took a step forward to stop her, but I froze when Hotch held her back. For the shortest moment, I remembered that Hotch knew what he was doing. It had been five months since New York. Five months. And that entire time, I had been babying Hotch, treating him like he wasn’t capable of doing things on his own, capable of making the right choices, capable of sharing his kindness and love with anyone who needed him… Hotch was a good man. I knew that, the team knew that, his family knew it, and now Megan Kane knew it. I didn’t have to protect him from holding the hand of someone who was dying and needed the touch of a man who understood her.

Of course, none of this excused what she had done. I don’t think any of us suddenly forgot who she was and what she did; but Hotch was taking this chance to reach out and console her. That was why he was a good man. That was why I loved him. He hardly showed this side of himself to people—especially people outside of our family—but Megan knew his little secret, so there was no point in hiding it from her. He truly didn’t want her to disappear. If it were up to Hotch, no Unsub would ever die during a case we were working. As horrible as they were, they still deserved to live. I mean, they deserved to rot in prison, but they deserved to live unless they were going to harm his team—his family. Megan Kane was no threat to him or his team. She was just a girl who was lost and broken, and I could tell that he wished that he could help her.

On one of our first dates, I asked Hotch why he liked being a prosecutor back in the day. He choked on his water and I smiled. I asked him why he responded that way once he wiped his face clean with his napkin, and he told me that no one ever asked him why he liked being a prosecutor, they always just asked why he left to join the FBI. But I already knew the answer to that. I didn’t need him to tell me that he disliked being a prosecutor because it always felt too late to help the victims, so he wanted to beat these guys before they could do more harm. I understood that about him. What I didn’t know was why he liked being a prosecutor. I mean, he did it for so long, there had to be something besides the money that he liked about it. So, he told me that he liked putting the bad guys away for sure. He liked knowing that they were behind bars, and that at least some of them were getting the help and rehabilitation they needed. Hotch wasn’t naïve to the fact that prisons across America were failing their prisoners by not properly rehabilitating each and every one of them, but at least some of them were getting help.

That was why Hotch preferred climbing every mountain imaginable just to take in one Unsub compared to going the easy route of just shooting them dead. What happened with Chloe during the Angel Maker case was a prime example. Hotch tried to get her to turn herself over peacefully. He tried to make a difference, but he couldn’t. Chloe was too far gone, and she raised her weapon, so we all had no choice but to shoot her before she could shoot one of us.

With Megan Kane, she wasn’t going to shoot us. She wasn’t going to even harm us. Hotch felt her touch his hand, and he knew what he needed to do. This wasn’t going to be a good case where he got to take her in and get her the help she desperately needed. There was nothing he could do but sit there and comfort her. And, for some reason, that made my heart wrench in my chest.

“How could your wife leave someone like you? You’re the first man I ever met that didn’t let me down.” Her weak hand fell from Hotch’s. He scrambled to pick it up again and hold it tight. “I asked you earlier, but you dodged the question. Who did you end up with after your wife left? I know the voice of someone pretending to think others are attractive when they’ve already found the one. I’ve heard it so many times before, Aaron Hotchner, and you sound so head over heels for whoever it is.” Hotch looked up at me for a moment before Megan’s gaze followed his and she was staring at me, too. She smiled politely and nodded. “You’re very lucky,” she told me. She slumped back in her seat again and looked at Hotch. “Will you stay with me?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Megan slumped further. Her body started shaking, her breath sputtered, and her grip on Hotch’s hand was non-existent. The pain only lasted a short minute. Hotch held onto her for every second of it, though, and he stayed with her right until the very end, just as he promised he would.

We all hated losing. Each and every one of us hated losing… But Hotch was the worst about it. When he lost, his anger replaced his sorrow, and it took forever to go away. With Megan Kane, he lost. He couldn’t help her, he couldn’t stop the men she was going after, and he couldn’t keep her from disappearing. That was how Aaron Hotchner lost. And there was nothing I could do to change that. As desperate as I was to fix all of his suffering, there was no way for me to prevent this. Hotch, Morgan, and I all knew it.

Hotch looked up at me once she was gone. My eyes softened when I saw how defeated he looked. I mouthed to him, “I love you.” But he didn’t respond. He just looked back at her and squeezed her hand gently.

---------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​ @marvelismylifffe  @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​

[treeni]

Sanders Side Theory: Creativity’s Name and Roman’s Struggles

Theories Masterpost

Well, apparently some people were interested in my Orange side theory and stuff.

So let’s talk about “King Creativity” and why I disagree with every name theory I’ve seen so far and what I think instead. I’m not certain “King Creativity” is ever going to be named in the show, just knowing he existed is probably enough, but wouldn’t it be fantastic if there was a backstory episode? Or even aside episode?

First! Let’s start with the fact that I actually think it’s really interesting that everyone’s defaulting to Creativity being “King” when it is in fact Emperors who ruled Rome. Not a criticize, just interesting thought. Second, Kings were supposed to sit back and let their knights and armies basically do all of the physical work (Unless your Arthur, but it usually got him into trouble so! Moving on!) while you lead them as whatever supreme ruler title you take. However, a Crowned Prince was often at the head of said adventures and battles, in the thick of it all, but was basically indisputably the accepted next in line. (Approved by the courts and all that jazz, I mean historically it didn’t always go that way, but that was the intention). However, a regular Prince and a Duke could absolutely have a power struggle, especially in the situation where the Duke was previously “next in line” before the Prince’s birth. So if Roman and Remus ever did duke it out (also mini theory that Remus chose Duke for the fighting reference) I think one of them could/would become King, but I don’t think that’s who creativity was before the split.

Now I have a particular crowned prince in mind that creativity is named after, but lets not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s start by talking about some of the most popular theories and why I disagree with them.

CW: for before the “Keep Reading” section. There is mention of metaphorical and fictional murder, war, lgbt theory (not that, that should surprise anyone). Roman backstory (aka things he might regret now.)

Romulus: While I suppose it’s convenient in the fact that its sort of the names combined, Romulus is already the role that Roman is filling in his relationship with Remus. Twins that supposedly found Rome, but Romulus killed his brother Remus to do so and become the ruler. Romulus literally named Rome after himself. This isn’t a hint, this isn’t something that’s upcoming or anything, this is backstory. Roman is literally just a modernized version of the name Romulus. Remus’ banishment to the darkside was his metaphorical murder. It also suggests that Roman took an active role in sending Remus away, which also helps explain a lot of Roman’s current struggle with Janus. Can you imagine the kind of guilt he might be feeling if he was the one who decided his brother was evil and he was good and then he passed judgement? If the darksides aren’t evil, then Roman and he metaphorically murdered Remus, then he wasn’t the hero slaying the beast anymore. Instead, he’s suddenly the bad guy.

Buuuut Treeni, what about Patton??? I hear you say. It would have had to have been morality right?

And to that I say you’re WRONG! And also right. Patton’s kinda been shown to be the most accepting bean of the whole lot, he doesn’t really try to force the others away the way some of the other sides do. Instead, he puts his foot down on his own convictions and refuses to listen to reason. (I didn’t say he was perfect.) Still, he doesn’t try to physically push the others away, not Virgil when he tried scaring Thomas, not Janus when they argued and Patton was clearly distressed by the courtroom situation, and not even Remus when Patton was clearly scared of him (also defensive of Roman). He doesn’t need to, he’s self-assured in his own place and convictions that he doesn’t worry about Thomas pushing him out. Instead, Patton kinda takes the family holiday party route and will do his best to put out the emotional fires and stand his ground on his opinion to Thomas when he needs to. (The ONLY time I could find Patton sort of pushing someone away was when they were in his room and Patton asked Logan to stop. While that could weaken my argument about Patton, I think it strengthens it because it shows how big of a deal it was at the time that Patton tried shutting him down. Logan reacted the way he did by immediately storming off because it’s not something Patton does.) While it could absolutely be Patton’s influence that caused the split, it would be out of character (as he’s currently defined) for Patton to actively push a side away. (I’ll get into some of his more negative aspects in another post if ya’ll wanna hear about it.)

Remember, Roman was the one who tried shutting down Virgil with bullying tactics, Logan too sometimes. Then he tried to use the same tactics on Janus when he tried putting his foot down on maintaining a black and white view point of the world after Remus’ appearance. Keep in mind that Remus actively told us that he blames Roman for his banishment. He compared himself and Roman to Cain and Able. While c!Thomas and even the audience as a whole were sort of led to think of Remus as Cain because of the “dark and evil” association, Remus is telling us that he is Abel. Roman is his destroyer. (Before you feel too bad for Remus, that misconception was also on purpose because while Remus isn’t a liar, he can manipulate a situation with honesty. Again, another post if you wanna hear about why.)

So now there is some general understanding of the twins backstory, you’ll see why Romulus would be a terrible fit for their combined name because Roman is already Romulus. Period. He’s the one who betrayed his brother by “murdering” him and taking over.

Making Romulus the name of who creativity was before because the names kinda morph together would lazy writing compared to very carefully woven details the show has had thus far (particularly in season 2). Okay, that went on a bit of a tangent, so next!

Caesar: This is a person who brought about the destruction of Rome, not the creation of it. (With Rome basically being the metaphorical state c!Thomas is living in now with clear lines between good/bad, right/wrong etc.) While it’s not a horrible ideology, it would be moving forward in a historical timeline instead of backwards. If you subscribe to the idea that Roman and Remus cannot go back to who they were (even with some kind of theoretical re-morphing) Caesar might be who they become, but it seems unlikely that is who they were. Remember that both sides are individuals now and those individual traits they’ve gained since splitting may not re-mesh cleanly back into who they once were. I personally don’t think there’s any “going back” for Creativity.

If they show him as he once was, it would likely only be in either a backstory bit or in a temporary situation where the re-combining doesn’t hold. However, if Creativity ever did become one thing again, I think it would be something completely new and I think Caesar would be a good fit for that in particular.

Aeneas: Again, it would be kinda lazy writing comparatively. Instead of using a sorta combination of the names that had some historical basis, this theory is based entirely on the idea of a convenient ancestor who quested and failed over and over to create Rome. I could have bought this had it been from lesser writers, but Thomas, Joan and the whole team do not mess around in story crafting and really carefully woven in references. I am literally degreed in writing and analysis and I keep finding myself impressed at the layers.

The name Aeneas also implies that the character Creativity was specifically questing for a change and that seems doubtful given the resentment between the brothers. Aeneas was essentially a left-over scavenger trying to scrape together a new home from what he could from already broken pieces and that does not sound like what Creativity is implied to be.

If we look at child development, I would theorize that Creativity is the oldest side. In the creative process, there are two major steps, first is information absorption, then second is application. The first thing any child must do is learn, anything and everything. The world is a limitless and imaginative playground. New material is around every corner and there it takes a while before the distinction between reality and fiction to be understood. It was probably just c!Thomas and Creativity for a while and as the others emerged, they looked up to him. It could even be potentially argued that Creativity was literally their creators.

This would imply that Aeneas would be a pretty terrible fit for him in that case because there’s nothing broken that he’s trying to salvage. The kingdom is his and c!Thomas’ to preside over with the other sides as his subjects. (c!Thomas being the distant “King” and Creativity being the “Crowned Prince”).

So, with all of that out of the way on why some of these theories are probably wrong, what do I think?

I think Creativity’s name is Hector.

Now, hear me out on this. For those of you who have read the Iliad you probably know exactly who I am referencing. You just may not know why. So stay with me here.

1. First, for those of you who don’t know, Hector was the Crowned Prince of Troy, the leader of the army that the Greeks (the perspective we’re getting) are facing off against. He’s also cousin to Aeneas, but actually accomplished things during the war beyond being saved by Aphrodite. This means he’s also an ancestor to both Romulus and Remus (albeit technically less direct). However, Hector’s family is where the royal lineage of Aeneas comes from. Though we follow the story mainly from the perspective of the Greeks (and the gods because they’re TROLLS), the Greek’s are pretty villainous in a lot of their actions throughout the story and they are most definitely the invaders. In this case, I would liken the Greek army to “outside opinion” for c!Thomas. Others interjecting their views on to someone and breaking his own beliefs. In this situation, Creativity would have been his biggest defender and hero, retreating into magical imaginary worlds to escape judgement.

2. So lets get onto the character and why him, shall we? Hector will literally do anything for his family. The war takes place because his little brother, Paris (one of a whopping 49 brothers mind you) either kidnaps, has Aphrodite kidnap or runs away with the Spartan Queen Helen because he fell in love with her. (It varies on the version and she was forced into her previous marriage at about 13 anyway, so Helen leaving willingly for the guy who the gods deem is the most attractive man alive is a popular modern reading.) It would have been so easy for the Trojans to yeet Helen back to Greece, but they don’t and Hector’s defense of her and his brother is a big reason why. Hector even chastises his brother for the mess he’s caused, but still stands by him and defends him. He also defends the hell out of Helen and refuses to blame her for their problems. Then in Troilus and Criseyde (Basically published Iliad perspective shift fanfiction with OCs) he defends the hell out of Criseyde when even Troilus, (apparently one of the 50 brothers) the person who claims to be in love with her, wont. Hector’s truly an all around good guy, great leader and has a very distinctive and personal moral compass that doesn’t always align with what’s being told to him is right. You want a character representation for someone who led the sides despite their clear struggles? Someone with Roman’s charm and heroism, and Remus’ understanding and drive? Hector is probably it.

3. Hector’s death is both a huge symbol for the end of Troy, but also isn’t? Let me explain, narratively speaking, Hector’s death is the point you know that Troy is basically doomed. His end is the representation of the end of it all. His corpse was literally paraded around as Achilles’s dragged it on the back of a chariot for days to show their doom. There was a distinct “aura” shift from Hector’s death as all of Troy mourned his death. We as an audience know Troy is basically doomed from Hector’s death alone. Hector was a person that even the enemy Greeks hella respected as a warrior and leader. Essentially, this was the point that the war that had been raging for about a decade became serious. At the same time, it just simply isn’t the end of the war. There’s the whole horse thing still to come and all that jazz. Still though, Hector’s death is very much a symbol of “everything changes, but nothing does.” Which is the perfect symbol for the twins split to me. Just because they split doesn’t mean that all of the sides did immediately, yet it was still probably the turning point that drove a wedge between the “dark” and “light” sides.

4. The character Hector arguably died in the name of gay love. Okay, story time. So in the Iliad, Achilles is being a little bitch and refusing to fight anymore because drama between him and the king of Athens, but he’s their best fighter and the Greek’s are basically sorta loosing because of him not helping. His boyf- I mean best friend Patroclus goes out in Achilles armor and leads his army in his place because Achilles is a whiny baby. Except Hector kinda immediately kills Patroclus, thinking he’s Achilles with reinforcements.(This was full body armor baby and distinctive cause baby of a god and all that mocha frappe.) Of course, Achilles has to immediately get angry revenge for his boyf- BEST friend and ends up killing Hector. This would make the character Hector a great metaphor for Creativity if his split had anything to do with sexuality or even acceptance as a whole. (Though we know acceptance is definitely a part of it considering Remus.) We know that Remus wants c!Thomas to explore darker themes and the struggle of sexuality and acceptance could be a possibility in what is to come as a previously “off-limits” theme.

5. A big one is that the destruction of Troy is what eventually brought about the creation of Rome. Essentially Troy would be the metaphor of c!Thomas’ existence/mentality before the sides split into dark/light factions. Then Rome would be the metaphor of c!Thomas’ existence/mentality after the sides split into factions.

6.Finally, the name Hector literally means “to restrain” which would work well for Creativity as he was likely trying to reign in the others from infighting (and you can see how well that went with him being gone). 

Cheers to another rant into the void. Huzzah! God this is nearly as long as some of my seminar papers. Do what you will with this information.

Please keep in mind that I adore Roman as a character. This post isn’t meant to hate on him. It’s meant to bring awareness of the layers of his character. Every Prince Charming was a villain to someone, every hero that slays the beast is a murderer from a different light. 

I don’t bring these things to light to cause pain, I bring them to light to help bring awareness of what’s probably going through his head.

(Yes, in regards to the Creativity being made first thing, I DO even have a theory about existence order, I promise you I have theories about everything. My mind does not stop with this crap. I have theories on everything from what animal association Roman and Logan have to Virgil’s key role in Roman’s backstory. I’ve ranted about a bunch of these things to a few specific people so if you ever want me to go on a rant about anything in particular let me know. I didn’t expect anyone to actually look at the other theory post tbh. Inbox me if you want me to go to unnecessary lengths on something else.)

(Also, correct me on the Patton thing if I’m wrong. I took notes on a recent watch through, but I wasn’t specifically looking for his rejection sooo, if there are other moments of it you can find that didn’t jump out at me I totally accept criticism.)