#we should talk about jack's head trauma though. that's a whole conversation

[trickstercaptain]

it's interesting when people ( i.e. the fandom ) try to make something out of the "parlay, parsnip, partner" scene in cotbp with jack and pintel and ragetti, specifically jack's confusion, because it's like.... simple explanation, he got hit by an oar ( thanks will ) in the previous scene and probably has a concussion lmao

[mlobsters]

supernatural s15e14 last holiday (w. jeremy adams)

DEAN Hmm. Ah, Jack come out of his room yet? SAM No. I mean, can you blame him? His soul is back. Everything is hitting him. Everything he’s done. Everything he has to do. Amara. DEAN Yeah. Well, I mean Billie said it, to kill Chuck, you gotta kill Amara, too.

handy that sam has that very experience, post-soulless guilt. also questioning the fact they need to kill amara. billie hasn't had all the right answers, but it's like a) chuck said can't kill me because of balance which hello of course he's slightly biased on the reasons he can't be killed b) logical conclusion wiping out amara and then apparently confirmed by billie? sure whatever. i'm not buying it :p

this whole restarting the bunker sequence has weird dialogue for dean. i'm telling you this season feels off in a million different directions.

good grief. well, i'm glad the production draft dialogue didn't make it to screen.

DEAN Ha-ha! Victory! Now… burger time. Meat man! Comin’ to town!

but no meat for sam, apparently

mrs butters / roseanne s3e21 meagen fay as kathy bowman

ah, meagan fay! she's been a ton of things but i'm pretty sure i know her from roseanne. man, i loved that show. goddamned shame roseanne herself turned out to be a fucking awful person. best quality image i could get was someone recording from their tv lol

DEAN Well, I was walking into my room, about to, uh, dive into my Dean Deluxe. I look up, and there she is, folding my, uh, underthings. SAM Your underthings?

why wouldn't he just say boxers or underwear. he could have been awkward about it with those too. going to look to see what i thought of jeremy adams's other episodes and it was the scooby one (cowriter) 13x16 and sam's soul wound whatever thing and eileen 15x07 and i wasn't terribly enthused about either of those episodes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

MRS. BUTTERS No, I was more of a helper. I, uh, took care of the cleaning and laundry and the cooking. The Men of Letters, though highly intelligent, were oblivious to the necessities of life. But they were my boys. My family. DEAN Well, that’s very progressive

i am open to enjoying this episode (trying to, at least) but the premise is just. a lot to swallow.

she literally saw dean walk into his room with a homemade burger yet commenting on the home cooked meal. and i'm just not buying that their clothes/they stink. i would when they were young and literally barely scraping by and living on the road, but not now

DEAN He’ll be fine. I mean, I’ve been through worse. Look at me, I’m the picture of health. SAM Ignoring your trauma doesn’t make you healthy. DEAN Sure it does.

not sure we've seen sam really processing much either, though he's sort of talked about dealing with it

like... this is reading more like not great fic than an episode. oof

obligatory head shaking of random music choice that sounds like it should be in star wars or something to indicate foreboding drama at the end of this conversation where dean says jack just needs some time/space (jay gruska ofc)

open mind, nic. open mind

this is... i don't even know what. give jackles an inch and he'll ham it up for a mile and it's not my kind of humor and the fucking cap, it's just so over the top. and then flashing sam and him gagging. like. sigh. not my jam, to put it lightly

no words

he kept mjolnir? i don't remember that episode at all honestly

it's all very cartoonish. i'm sure the conflict is sure to follow shortly

so the docile mommy indentured servant magical creature was also useful for killing people, gasp

DEAN Oh, wow. Somebody’s shopping at Abercrombie and Bitch. MRS. BUTTERS Oh! Language! DEAN Well – MRS. BUTTERS Don’t you listen to him. You look very handsome. SAM Eileen’s in town. So I thought, after everything that’s happened, you know, we could go out on a date. Dinner and privacy, something. DEAN Heavy on the something!

all right. guess they're gonna try again

so this random wood nymph lady was able to basically power down jack, who everyone says is basically the most powerful being out there, with some magical ingredient containing smoothies. sure.

why the archangel blade, who knows. since apparently it only works to kill archangels when wielded by one, right? but jack's a whatever anyway

SAM Why didn’t you call me? DEAN Well. I mean, I, you know, figured you were “practicing your sign language.” SAM And that’s more important than coming to save you? DEAN Hmm.. SAM Dean? DEAN It’s been a while for you, man, you know?

😐 not like dean trying to get sam laid is a new thing, he's been on that train since s1. but for some reason it's weirding me out with eileen. well, maybe it's always kind of weirded me out but now I have even more complicated feelings about them so it's increased the weirdness

DEAN Okay, I’m just going to say this, okay? Just get it out there. Jack. I’m trying, okay? I really am. But what you did, that’s not easy to forget. Now I was angry with you, for a while. And maybe I still am a little bit, okay? But I’m not gonna let some evil Mary Poppins take you out. Do you understand?

well, that was nice. glad they had that moment at least

ripping off sam's fingernails, great. didn't the gods in the christmas episode do that to him too?

welp. undid some brainwashing and she's out. whatever, man. woof.

who lights the candle first then puts it in the cake lol

little hint of the dads and their kid sweet dynamic they had in the before times. followed up by ominous music.

[sortasirius]

“Drag me Away (From You)” and the Tipping Point

Anyway stan the writers of Supernatural.

As I thought, this episode felt very much like the pause at the top of a roller coaster before the big drop.  It set up A LOT, sometimes with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and sometimes so quietly it took me a second look to catch it.

Our themes today: Dean and Sam and secrets, Dean’s trauma and how that informs his choices today, free will, escaping Chuck at any cost, and, once again, CHOICE.

So lets dive in.

Guilt is the name of the game right off the bat.  Caitlin’s guilt, Dean’s guilt, they are present throughout the entirety of the episode. 

And right out of the gate, we find out that Dean has not told Sam about what will happen to Jack if they follow through with this plan.  Sam immediately asks if he and Cas had another fight like the true brother-in-law he is, but the point remains that Dean, like he has done a billion times before, is keeping the big thing from Sam, because he knows that Sam will argue, will put up a fight and, in my opinion, Dean doesn’t want to change his mind, and he doesn’t want Sam to give him the opportunity to do that.

Also can we please discuss the “Have you told Sam yet?” from Cas?  The peak married energy of it all.

My main takeaway from the young Dean and Sam scenes was, as usual, that the abuse that they have suffered is already apparent.  Sam is already looking for a way out, looking for a way he can get away from the life, while Dean has settled into his unhappiness, accepted that this is destined to be his life.  He’s already got that edge of aggression, the survival edge that he cultivated to not get hurt.

Did I cry over the mention of Sully and Dean’s “Americana” theme?  Who’s to say.

Caitlin, Travis, Dean, and Sam are such cuties when they work together.  I feel like Caitlin and Dean have a nice compatible energy, the immediately bond with that older sibling energy.  She doesn’t take his shit which is refreshing when he literally starts the episode with pointed snark at Sam..

Another theme of the day: lies.  Dean lies to Sam about Jack and Cas, Caitlin lies to the boys about why they’re there.  Lies, and coming clean from those lies, are vital to this episode as well.

My bb boys hunting monsters, I love them.

“I’m sorry Caitlin, but that thing?  It’s not here.”

“You’ve changed.  Back then you believed him even before I did.”

Shall we remember 13x05, “Advanced Thanatology”?

Hm.  More on that later.

I also want to point out how much Sam and Dean split up in this episode, and how much they’re aided by Travis and Caitlin when they’re separated.  I think this is one of those things that we’ll see, at the end, that this is what they were leading us to.  It has to be their choice of course, but Dean and Sam are being set up to part ways.

Sam and Travis playing Boggle????  I cry???  #letthembekids2k20

Dean’s guilt.  Manifesting as his younger self.

“You failed.”

His failure sends him to his knees.

Sorta like:

Which, no biggie, was featured in the “then” for this week.

“Guys there’s one more thing...she keeps some kind of a nest.”

“A nest?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid I saw it...with a bunch of bodies. Dead kids.”

“That’s what you were hiding from me.”

 “They were all about the same age we were back then.  I guess she keeps them there, feeds.”

“Dean, why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

“Because I’d never seen anything like that before.  So after I killed it or...thought that I killed it, I phoned in the bodies, let the authorities take care of it, shoved it down the old memory hole.  I had nightmares about that for the longest time.  I’m sorry, I shoulda told you.”

“No man, it’s okay.  I mean you were just a kid.  We were both just kids.  Hell, we used to keep a lot of secrets from each other.”

OOF.

Dean’s growth.  His growth has been the catalyst of the season. And we know he’s keeping a secret from Sam, so this whole exchange is just a neon sign that says “growth potential.”

And because nothing ever slows down anymore, we smash cut right to a scene with Death herself.

“Yeah, fill him up with your cosmic TNT so he can die.  How’d you talk the kid into that one?”

“I told him the truth.  Jack killed your mother, and all he wants is your forgiveness.  And I surmise that the only way that he can get that is ending God and freeing you from the...what did you call it?  Hamster wheel?  Was I wrong?”

I mean not to be that guy but I literally talked about the repetition of key phrases in last week’s episode, including the hamster wheel here.  Once again we are being told that nothing, even the smallest details of this season, are done on accident.  Every episode is a callback to an earlier episode, showing growth, or change, or a pattern.  Nothing can be discounted, nothing is without purpose.

Also.  The Truth.

“According to Chuck’s book, I’m not in this part of the story.”

Sound familiar?  I got the receipts babey.

Ok.

“I don’t like loose ends, Dean.  I don’t like disorder.  So clean this up.  I need to know that you’ve got your house in order.”

This all feels very...deliberate in it’s phrasing.  Getting his house in order, tying up loose ends, cleaning things up.  I can certainly think of something that needs tying up in regard to Dean.  Something that is, in all likelihood, is coming to fruition in two episodes.

That clown statute was a personal attack and I will not be accepting dissenting opinions at this time.

“Hey, that thing.  Were you scared?”

“Always am.”

“You have changed.  The old you never would have admitted that.”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“I think so.  What do they say about getting older?  You tell the truth more because you know that lies, they don’t make anything better.”

So uh.  Well.  Let’s start with 13x05 again shall we?  This is also an episode about Dean’s guilt.  It’s an episode about his anger.  It’s also the first episode we see Death’s library, where we hear about the books, the books that everyone has, that not even Chuck knows the ending to.

Dean’s fear.

His guilt.

What losing Cas does to him (again).

Choice.

There is no subtlety here.  This is a loud as hell megaphone, this is a bright neon sign being put in front out our faces.  Dean’s anger, his guilt, his fear, his fear of being abandoned, his fear of losing the people he loves most, the fear of losing the battle against Chuck, it’s all right here, right in our faces, paralleled directly by the only conversation in Death’s library, where we’ll be next week. 

And Dean’s growth potential is realized.  He has finally learned his lesson.  Maybe from Caitlin, maybe from Billie, maybe from Sam himself, but he tells Sam about Jack’s fate.

Predictably, and completely fairly, Sam blows up.

The anger.  The anger that’s easier for Dean to deal with than the grief.

“So... you’ve been sitting on this.  What the hell, Dean?  I thought we were past stuff like this.”

“I know, Sam-”

“I can’t believe you, you know that?  I mean how can you keep me in the dark about something so huge?”

“Because I knew you couldn’t handle it!  You didn’t trust Billie’s plan, and then when we found out about Amara you started second guessing, you raised these ethical questions!”

“And I shouldn’t?  Jack’s going to kill himself and I should just shut up about it?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“This is how we end Chuck!  Okay?  This is the only way we’ll ever be free. So I’m sorry, Sam, you don’t get a choice!  We don’t get a choice!”

“Oh we?”

“Look-”

“Stop!  Alright?  Just stop!  Please.”

“I’m sorry I-”

“Don’t.  Don’t.  Don’t.  Just...just drive.  Just drive.”

Free will taken.  They don’t have a choice.  Even fighting for their free will, to make their own choices, they don’t get one.

And if that wasn’t enough, our preview for next week.  With Adam, the first man.  Sam and Cas headed to Death’s library, to read (presumably) Jack’s book, to meet Billie (though they don’t know that).

Once again, there’s so much to unpack here, there’s so much to discuss, but for the millionth time, we’ve heard about anger, fear, and choice, the three main themes of the back half of the season.  Barring what I suspect is coming in 15x18, the main thing to take away is the importance of the brothers working with others.  Even as kids, they have always worked better with others, even if it meant they had to split from each other.

[phoenixyfriend]

I’ve been trying to figure out the best obi wan ship. They all have one slightly problematic thing this way or that. I’ve landed on the idea of obi wan and an equal is pretty top tier. But then I saw a picture of Coran from voltron. Coran and Obiwan might be a disaster but also both are dad shaped, both are bad ass, both are ginger, both have an accent. I think it could work. But another part of me is like Coran is just obi and jarjar mashed together. At the very least they hooked up.

Hey I just had restaurant ramen and Starbucks and actually feel like a human being so let's do something unnecessary but funny. I'm taking this as a challenge, anon.

Also IMO Coran has more in common with C3P0 than with JarJar

So obviously, both of these happen in Big Space, but the difference appears to be density. We see about the same complexity of culture and species interactions, but Voltron covers more galaxies. It's vaguely implied that Earth, at least, is the only planet with sapient life in the Milky Way.

I think the way I want to play this out, culturally, is that the Voltron area of the universe covers a much wider, but much more sparsely populated area, while the SW-verse is just the one very densely populated (in part because apparently humans just went Literally Everywhere) galaxy, where they didn't necessarily bother with developing the tech to go to other galaxies (except Rishi, which only sort of counts) because they haven't really even charted out their own yet. It was never contacted by the Voltron side of things because [checks notecards full of excuses] it's really far away from Altea and all that, and the Force shielded the galaxy from Galra interests because Reasons.

All this to say that the two franchises didn't interact until after the Voltron plotline was already over. We'll say it went mostly canon, except Allura survived because uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck that.

We'll say that this is mid-TCW, you know, before Obi-Wan is a bundle of repressed traumas and bad coping mechanisms that's lost almost everyone he's ever loved to the dark side through death or corruption. He's still (mostly) okay! Anakin's not dark (or at least, not as dark as he could be; Obi-Wan doesn't know about the Tuskens), and Ahsoka's still in good standing and most people are alive and--and okay the army is a massive ethical violation he hates with his very soul and he misses Qui-Gon and Anakin's keeping secrets and pulling away from him every day but He's Fine, Guys.

He's Fine.

In comes a ship from not Wild Space, but beyond that. Intergalactic visitors, from the direction of the deeply concerning Force bullshit they felt a few years ago. Translation tech is decent enough on both sides that they get to talking pretty quickly. The explorer is actually a member of the Blade of Marmora, who gets the absolute most basic info (approximately this many inhabited planets, approximately this many trillions of sapients in the recorded galaxy, basic structure of the government for the past however many years, most recent conflict, etc.)

BoM person is like "cool, okay so you guys are really well set-up so I'm just gonna head back and kick this up a few rungs of the coalition ladder because this is way above my paygrade, I'll make sure you get some diplomats who can maybe help out with the whole galactic civil war situation as neutral parties."

The Voltron Coalition does send a diplomat! They, uh, also send Coran, who isn't technically a diplomat, but he's high-level.

The thing is, okay, that Coran is mostly just... passably competent at things. He's a jack of all trades, master of none type. He knows a lot of things, actually, but his practical knowledge in high pressure situations tends to be up in the air. He knows how to fix the Castle Ship and various technologies, but all of that info is ten thousand years out of date. He was a competent fighter at one point but these days his back gives out. He's very knowledgeable regarding intergalactic politics but, again, that information is ten thousand years out of date. He's also a little prone to social gaffs in dicey situations (e.g. the inciting incident in the Voltron Show episode where he misses the single day with clear skies), but puts in so much goddamn effort to make things happen.

In this manner, he's like a warped mirror of what Obi-Wan is and could be.

THAT SAID

Coran is actually really good with teenagers, and specifically with training them.

And Obi-Wan... isn't.

Obi-Wan's snarky and snippy and sassy, and he's decent enough at teaching and he's great at being a jokey friend and all, but he's not necessarily very good at emotions. And unfortunately for Obi-Wan, the teenagers he spends the most time with are Really Full Of Emotions. He tries, bless him, but he's just... he doesn't respond well to emotional conversations at the best of times.

His son-figure saying "You're like a father to me" leads to a response of... radio silence. Guys. That's not the mark of a man who knows how to talk about his feelings with the people he cares about.

In swans Coran with the various other diplomatic envoys of the visiting extragalactic community. The entire situation is really leading to a lull in the war because nobody wants to risk pissing off this clearly well-funded, well-powered third party. As a result, many of the High Generals can interact with the envoys, even if they spend quite a bit of time eyeing the Separatist representatives on the other side of the room, because clearly Everyone Needs A Seat At This Table.

It's a very tense situation.

Obviously, Coran is exactly the weird uncle that goes around telling plausibly-exaggerated stories about Weblums and Yalmors and Balmeras. I'm going to say at least one former Paladin is there, maybe Hunk. Hunk's fun, and also very willing to help Coran make friends and seem Amicable instead of Distant by correcting some of the exaggerations. There's a nice, calm atmosphere in a bubble around Coran and his nonsense, and it's a weird situation but arguably just... you know. It's good. He's good at making people feel safe around him.

Cue the hissed argument between Skywalker and Kenobi. The actual cause of said argument isn't important, just the fact that, in a dark corner where they're less likely to cause a PR issue, Anakin and Obi-Wan are having it out. Anakin's maybe twenty, still a lanky ragebaby, all that fun stuff. Obi-Wan is a the endpoint of every too-young brotherdad. He's thirty-six but feels like he's sixty-three. He's tired, but trying so damn hard to still connect with Anakin and just--just--

Obi-Wan gives himself a few minutes to calm down before following Anakin. He doesn't even remember what they were arguing about, really, but he has to mend the bridge before it frays even more than it already has. If Anakin goes to Palpatine for advice again, he's going to... do something. Obi-Wan isn't sure what, but he just has to fix this.

What he finds is... well, Anakin did end up going to vent to a man of an earlier generation who acts like a slightly eccentric older relative, but it's not Palpatine for once.

The goofy, slightly abrasive but mostly charming, brightly-colored representative of the Voltron Coalition is standing in the little balcony that Anakin's made it to, listening as Obi-Wan's recently-knighted padawan vents. The man nods and makes noises at the appropriate times, and then asks questions that are... maybe a little too accurate.

"You said that you view him as a father, that he raised you after you left your mother."

"Well, yeah, but he doesn't think I'm ready, or--"

"No parent ever does."

"...my mom thought I was ready to become a Jedi."

"I can't speak for your mother," the representative says, "but the princess of my people, Allura... I half-raised that girl from the beginning, and after the destruction of Altea, we were all the other had left. I watched her lead battles and bring life to planets, trying to rebuild a universe out of the ashes of what we'd left behind... I saw the evidence with my own eyes, and I still, every time, I worried for her."

"Why?"

"I worried that she'd be hurt, that she wasn't ready, that she'd make a decision she regretted. Often, she did, and I had to help her back up, and while she's always come back, stronger than before... she is the closest thing I have ever had to a daughter, and I will always worry for her. Every parent does. Do you think, perhaps, that your own Jedi Master, that you consider a father, may worry because he looks at you like a son? That it's not that he doesn't trust you, but that he doesn't trust the world around you?"

Obi-Wan feels his heart in his throat.

The conversation continues in that vein. While Obi-Wan can't say he likes the fact that this stranger is putting words in his mouth, if only as hypotheticals, he can't deny that there's a part of him that relaxes as Anakin does, as every frustrated fresh-knight question gets a measured elderly-steward response that's angled to consider the interpretation that favors Anakin and Obi-Wan in equal measure. Every word encourages Anakin to talk things out and lay boundaries and express his frustrations to Obi-Wan in the plainest words possible.

There's a story in there, more than one. The representative tends to go off on tangents, ones that Anakin sometimes finds interesting and sometimes just resigns himself to. Mostly, though, it goes well, and Obi-Wan... well, he's always been 'a nosy little bastard,' according to quite a few people.

(In his defense, the terms they'd used about Quinlan's 'investigative personality' had been quite a bit stronger.)

He eavesdrops to the end, and Anakin doesn't notice at all. Obi-Wan's not sure if he should try to address Anakin's lack of awareness of the world around him. He's not technically Anakin's master anymore. The comment may be taken as a criticism of his worth and capability, rather than a sincere desire to see his padawan not die.

He approaches the representative instead. He intends to introduce himself. Instead, the first words that tumble out of his mouth are:

"How do you do it?"

The man--older than he looks from a distance, more wrinkles than the bright hair would suggest, but not quite elderly yet--turns and lifts a brow. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry, I'm--" Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The young man you were just talking to is my former padawan, er, my former apprentice. I've been finding it harder and harder to speak with him over the past few years, and it seems that every interaction we have leads to an argument. How do you... manage that? I can't get him to listen to me at all."

"Ah, teenagers," the man sighs.

"He's twenty."

The representative pauses, and turns to him. "Are you the one he says raised him? The father?"

"Well... yes, I suppose that's one way to phrase it," Obi-Wan says, eyes darting to the side. He doesn't know how to explain the whole attachment situation to someone who barely knows what a Jedi is. He has even less of an idea of how to explain his own broken ability to speak of emotion, the parts of his mind that Bant clucks over and attributes to his own complicated relationship with Qui-Gon. "I had custody as his primary guardian from ages nine to nineteen and was the primary individual for handling his schooling, health, and general upbringing."

"That sounds to me like a very convoluted way of saying you were his father in all but name."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "I'm not exactly old enough to be his father, and I wasn't exactly the person he was supposed to learn from; I was the... back-up option."

"It seems he cares for you very much."

"He didn't have much of a choice," Obi-Wan says, with the kind of helpless smile and awkward shrug he's long gotten used to sharing with people when they ask. "And I assure you he'd have been happier with the man that was meant to teach him."

"I'd say that the 'would have' in this situation is much less important than what is," the representative says. Obi-Wan probably should have paid more attention to his name. "I wasn't in a position to define my relation to Allura or her father in the way that truly suited our situation, by... oh, tradition, social norms, public relations, take your pick. I was a very well-regarded official, of course, but I wasn't royalty, not even nobility, and I certainly wasn't wasn't legally or publicly part of the family. But for all the limitations there, I was still able to find ways to tell her and her family what they meant to me, and they in return. Your apprentice cares for you very much, and I'm sure you care back, but I'd hazard quite the guess that you've no idea how to tell him that."

"I... I shouldn't," Obi-Wan says. "I'm fond of him, of course, but I've no wish to smother him, and to simply say it would be undignified. I imagine he'd laugh in my face."

The representative raises one eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink.

"Master Kenobi," he says carefully. "Might I suggest you go find your young man, tell him you love him, and perhaps give him a hug?"

Obi-Wan's face flares red. It's been years since anyone short of Yoda has spoken to him like that.

"I'm not a child," he sniffs, trying to angle enough away that the blush isn't as noticeable. He's damnably prone to such things. "You're not that much older than me."

The man laughs, and Obi-Wan lifts his glass to his lips in a futile attempt to hid the embarrassment a little more. "Oh, not counting the stasis, I've well reached the age of six hundred and twenty-four, my boy!"

Obi-Wan chokes on his drink.

The man laughs a little more, but thumps him on the back until he's breathing normally again.

"Yes, most of the humans I've told have had quite the reaction!" the representative assures him. "But yes, even with the times adjusted to what any given local year is, I am significantly longer-lived than most species."

"No kidding," Obi-Wan manages. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and looks over at the representative. He takes in the wrinkles and bright eyes, and says, "Well, I must say you look very well for a near-human of such an age. I can only name one person in that category that has managed better, and I haven't seen her since I was a child."

"I shall take that as the compliment it's intended to be," the representative says, twisting the edge of his mustache and beaming.

The man is... well, goofy, really, and quite a bit older than Obi-Wan had thought, but he's quite the charmer. Obi-Wan faintly compares him to a few different people in the back of his mind, but nothing quite fits. For all that the man is quite the jokester and--going by some things he'd seen from the corner of his eye in the main party--a master of physical comedy, the representative is actually more competent than he looks, and for all his visible age, not bad to look at. He is also, seemingly, an expert in dealing with teenagers and young adults, something Obi-Wan himself is... decidedly not.

He really should go speak with Anakin.

And there's a war to fight.

He doesn't really have much time, even with the recent lull.

He's in no place to be looking at the clean-shaven jaw and wondering what it would feel like under his lips, or to let himself consider whether this man would be the kind to have an hours-long discussion as to the narrative forms common in other galaxies, and whether they have anything paralleled to those in Obi-Wan's own, or if this man would show the same enthusiasm over teas that he'd shown over the hors d'oeuvres inside.

He should... really go find Anakin.

"I suppose it's time to find my padawan," he says, more to fill the air than anything. "Er... thank you, both for speaking with him, and for speaking with me."

"Not a problem at all, Master Kenobi!" the representative says, and Obi-Wan realizes that there's one last thing he may have... forgotten.

"This is terribly embarrassing, but I don't believe I caught your name?" Obi-Wan says.

"Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, at your service!" the man says, with a sweeping bow. "As you can imagine, most simply call me Coran."

"Then I insist you call me Obi-Wan," he says, and before he can stop himself, "Might I bother you with an invitation to a shared tea time? You seem a knowledgeable fellow, and I'd appreciate the chance to... eh, pick your brain, shall we say."

It's not the smoothest come on he's ever put out there, or the most easily interpreted, but... well. Perhaps it's for the best. He's rather often found his tastes going in irresponsible directions, and it'll be much easier to brush this off without diplomatic incident if there's room for Coran to politely ignore the less platonic options.

Obi-Wan hopes he doesn't.

It's very selfish of him, but a dalliance with an older gentleman... well. He does, perhaps, make such irresponsible decisions, even now.

"I do believe I'd enjoy such a thing!" Coran enthuses, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand and shaking it in large, effusive movements.

Oh, this is a terrible idea, Obi-Wan thinks, even as he exchanges comm numbers and says goodbye.

Still.

He likes the idea of having at least a little fun, sedate or less so, while they have some time to themselves.

[supertransural]

Dean and his “things, people and feelings” he’s already “experienced differently”.

So here’s a random 4am thought I had. You know how while in the confessional in 10x16, Dean talks about “things, people, feelings” he wants to “experience differently/for the first time”? That confession is literally incoherent if you take a perfectly heterosexual-non-castiel-point of view. It just is. Let me explain why I think that is, and prepare yourself, this is going to be long. 

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that we’re supposed to understand that conversation the way the priest understands it, that we’re supposed to see Dean the way the priest sees him: as someone who likes to have flings, who cheats, doesn’t commit, etc... basically the character that was introduced to us in the first few seasons/episodes (somewhat). I’m going to be calling that stance the “priest POV”. 

The issue here, is that this is not in fact “the first few seasons/episodes”, this is season 10, Things have happened since then. People have happened. Feelings. Have. Happened. Wether it be in the form of flashbacks or present day events, we’ve seen character development. So let’s start with romantic ones.

1: The first one that comes to mind is Lisa (and Ben). He had a committed, long term, family oriented, white picket fence relationship. It wasn’t just a “I had no other place to go” kinda deal, because once he was somewhat back on his feet, he could’ve pulled a Dean WInchester and left. Except he didn’t. He could’ve cheated. Except he didn’t. He could’ve not opened up or not gotten vulnerable. Except he did. That should already debunk the “priest POV” but let me add on. 

2: Cassie. Dean was insanely vulnerable with her, he loved her, opened up to her about the one big thing he never tells his one night stands, and incidentally was the one who was rejected this time around. He still has feelings about her when he meets her again. 

3: Robin. His first, real girlfriend. With whom he was also in a committed relationship with, which probably would’ve kept on growing if John hadn’t been the usual assh*le that he is, and Dean had had a chance to go to that dance with her. I like to think of her as beta-version-Lisa, and also as the girl who set him on his blazing trail of leaving women after 1 day or 1 week. His dad was the one to rip him away from her, and we know he wanted his son to be the perfect masc, emotionless, order-following, womanizer. And that is exactly what Dean attempts to become, even though this obviously goes against every fiber of his being (see #4).

4: Amanda. Now you may be thinking “but hey! Dean does cheat on her! and it is a short relationship!”. Sure he does, and sure it is, as I said, ever since Robin, he’s trying to be the womanizer his dad wants him to be. But he still lets himself get quite attached to Amanda, as shown by his disdain of the school right after she dumps him in front of everyone. The only reason he liked or tolerated this school wasn’t just “the hot cheerleaders” or whatever, it was Amanda. He wants to put on this mask of “I don’t care about her, I’m a bad boy, I’m just in it for the sex”, but he’s genuinely hurt by what she tells him about his life and how she judges it, and saddened by the breakup. He lets himself get hurt by her. Bear with me, this is important, because we see it happen again with Cassie and then he never lets it get to that point again, simply because of fear and trauma (I think), for example he’s the one to start the conversation about breaking up with Lisa.

Now. What about the “he was just talking about platonic things and feelings and people” possibility. Spoiler alert, it still doesn’t work. 

1: Jo. Otherwise known in my head as beta-version-Charlie, it’s true that Jo is part of those “early seasons” characters, but that only adds to the inconsistency of the “priest POV”. Dean cared intensely about her, some people think of their relationship as romantic, but I really like the “big brother/father/protective” figure idea. Whatever you believe their relationship was, it was profound, I mean he was positively shattered when she died. Again, deep feelings, longterm feelings. 

2: Benny. Like seriously. Dean spent a year in Purgatory with him, saw him as a brother despite the fact he was a vampire, helped him as much as he could while he was having troubles adapting to life on Earth again, protected him through thick and thin, went against his brother for him, against other hunters, against his core beliefs as a hunter himself, just. for. him. If that doesn’t tick all the boxes of things, feelings, people he wants to experience differently for you, then I truly don’t know what to tell you. And then there’s the whole thing with the ship between them, which I somewhat agree with but it isn’t cannon enough for this. 

3: Garth. Yeah, sure, Dean is condescending towards him at first, but he does care about him a lot, and probably doesn’t understand why and how Garth cares about him so quickly, or offers support voluntarily. Garth is a bit of a role model to him, that scrawny, somewhat cringy, little man is better at life than Dean is, and Dean sees that. He’s bothered by it at first, but learns to respect Garth later on, and care about him. He relies on him as a hunter, and kind of as a friend too and he lets him be the new Bobby (which proves a lot of trust grew here) (also, much later on, Dean makes sure he stays out of hunting so Garth can have a happy family life, he also accepts the fact that he’s a werewolf and that his whole family is too). That Also counts as people experienced differently and for the first time. 

4: Kevin. Or as I like to call him, sort-of-beta-version-Jack. Dean feels responsible for him, he jumps into the role of a father figure more than Sam ever does, as much as Sam cares about Kevin too. He is also completely shattered when he dies, like with Jo (which is a bit of the reason why I see Jo and Dean’s relationship as a Big brother-Little sister relationship, the vibe is similar (but not identical) to Kevin and Dean’s). 

5: Jody. Jody is like the mother he never really had growing up. He is vulnerable around her, opens up, she’s basically family. I’m not going to write in Bobby, because he doesn’t count as “new things”, he was effectively his father. Here, Dean lets Jody become a sort of mother to him even though his memory of his mom isn’t as tarnished as his dad’s is. He lets her step into his mom’s sacred shoes. He lets her take care of him in a way. He lets her enter his life and be here for him. New people, new feelings.

6: Charlie. Charlie is his little sister, no doubt about it. She’s his role model, he loves her deeply, he lets himself care about her and feel insanely protective of her. He lets her be Sam #2. He lets himself become a big brother to a new Jo. To a new human. He lets his nerdy side out around her, he learns from her openness about being gay. He is comfortable around her. He is constantly worried about her. New feelings, new people, new things, first time blah blah blah you know the drill by now.

7: Ash. Yes, yes, I know, another “early on” character. But as I said, it keeps on just proving my point. First of all, I firmly believe Dean had a massive crush on Ash but that’s just my interpretation. He respects Ash and looks up to him, he wants to be a bit like him, confident, comfortable in his own life and skin, happy, and he lives in a friggin’ bar for godsakes. He is the epitome of what Dean wants to be at that point in time. He wants to be carefree like Ash is. He thinks Ash is highly intelligent, and has it made. He sees what a happy man can be, one without burdens from “the life”. Ash is a bit like the cooler version of Garth (no offense to Garth of course). Does that count as a role model? I don’t know. But it sure as hell shaped Dean’s hope for what his life could one day be. And Dean cares about Ash deeply as well, he was devastated when he died (he was devastated about the whole Roadhouse burning of course, but it’s clear Ash’s death shakes him quite a bit) and is genuinely happy when he gets to see him again in Heaven, when he sees Ash content and at peace, and the fact that Ash tells him he’ll see him again one day makes him smile (btw thats something I would’ve wanted to see in the finale, but nooooo they simply had to give us a train wreck instead). 

So now that we’ve established those relationships he’s already had before (and I use the term relationship broadly here, it also includes all his friends), I’d like to point something out. There are of course other people he met along the way, other people he saved who inspired him, like the gay couple LARPing as him and Sam, Ellen (beta-version-Jody), in a way Tessa, Layla Rourke, Eileen, to name a few. But I feel as though the ones I cited were the main ones that truly show how shallow the “priest POV” interpretation is.

So where exactly does all this leave us? Well, friends, exactly where I intended it to be. That scene can’t be about potential women being longterm or serious romantic partners because that’s already happened. It can’t be about friends or monsters, because that’s already happened. Canonically. Several times, in several different flavors. 

TL;DR: There is no way this confession scene is heterosexual, and it’s probably about Cas, but not just him, it’s also simply about Dean himself and his comfy closet getting not so comfortable anymore. 

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Forty-Two) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of kidnapping. Mentions of death, torture, sexual assault, panic attack, PTSD-- everything Criminal Minds. Talk of sex, BDSM, Dom/sub relationship, etc.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 12469

Timeline: Season 6 Episode 09. A month after part forty-one.

A/N: Hi, my loves. I might be taking a very short break. School is..... it's a lot right now. I think that between school and the way my friends have been getting into my head about Criminal Minsd/Hotch/Thomas, I've just kind of fallen out of love temporarily. I'm finishing up Sense8 rn, and then I'm going to start watching Tales of the City to help revamp my love for Thomas, and in turn Hotch and Criminal Minds. Chapter 43 is going to be a long one, so I just need ya'll to bear with me for a bit as I get to writing it. I love you guys! <3

A week stuck in the house after getting back from Hawai’i was a week too long. All I wanted to do was get back to work and act like nothing happened, because, really, nothing did happen. Yeah, something happened, but it could have been way worse. I handled the situation before it could get bad, and the team found me. As for the only surviving Unsub who took me, Morgan and Emily went to question him after he got out of surgery. They asked him about this website that Foyet had supposedly set up for his fans, but by the time they got the name of it, it was gone, and Garcia couldn’t find anything about it. She searched far and wide, even trying to recover the site itself, but whoever really set it up was good, and they knew how to cover their tracks.

All we knew was how the site operated. According to the Unsub, there were levels of the “membership”. Those who wanted to join Foyet’s little minion club, or whatever the fuck it was, had to start at level one with a misdemeanor. The higher up they wanted to move through the levels, the more intense the crimes got. The third to last level, the one the Unsub and his friends were on, was killing me. Throughout the whole ordeal— from the moment they bid on the task in the level, up until I managed to shoot two of them, they were in contact with the person in charge. He told them where to find me, when to take me, how to do it, where to take me, what to do about the call, but they came to a screeching halt when they were told that they needed to send a piece of me, one at a time, to Hotch and Jack. For a group of criminals who worked through the levels of robbery, rape, child abductions, and animal murder, it was surprising to me that they wouldn’t even try to follow their orders. I mean, they could have at least— Maybe that wasn’t anything to ponder on.

When asked what the last two levels were, however, the Unsub told us that he didn’t know because the bids were hidden from anyone on the lower levels. They had been the first group to make it to the “my” level, no one knew what the last two were. If I had to guess, though, based on what I knew about Foyet and his mission to ruin Hotch’s life, I was going to take a wild guess that the second one was likely hurting Jack— which was already unthinkable— and the first… the first was Hotch.

Foyet liked torturing Hotch. From the stabbings to killing Haley, Foyet enjoyed making Hotch’s life a living hell. Even from the grave, Foyet was doing his best to break down Hotch. He wanted Hotch’s life to fall apart around him, to have him lose everything before he would finally be targeted, too. From what we knew, the only task the Unsubs had with me was sending me off in pieces. That was it. The consideration to do more, the conversations I had overheard, was of their own volition; but it also happened to be their downfall. With Hotch, the task was probably to make it as painful as possible. Honestly, I didn’t want to consider the options after knowing what Foyet had already done.

After the Unsub was out of the hospital, our questioning completed, he was processed, and it was finally out of our hands. When we got home, I practically collapsed in the doorway, catching Jack in my arms as he ran to me for a Superman hug. I had never been more relieved to see him in my life since Foyet took him. I held him in my arms for as long as I could, even when he tried to protest that I was hugging him too tight. I never wanted to let him go. Even when he started asking questions about what happened on our vacation, because something was clearly wrong, I just stayed as still and quiet as possible because I just wanted to hold my son in my arms.

Hotch made me stay home for the week following that while he practically catered to my ever want and need. In a way, I suppose, I was under house arrest. All I was missing was the ankle monitor; and, honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised me if I would have woken up with one on. Hotch was being a little too protective since it happened. While I tried to not blame him because he was obviously still trying to get over the fact that he could have lost me, I just wanted to get back out there and live my life. I wanted to get back into the field; I wanted to see our friends; I wanted to mess around with Morgan and Emily all the time. I didn’t want to feel like a wounded, little lamb.

What happened to me wasn’t even that bad, as I said. All I had were a few cuts and bruises, yet Hotch was acting like my entire body was broken and he needed to do everything for me. He didn’t go to work, he hardly even let me out of my sight. It was like the days following Haley’s death where I watched Hotch and Jack like a hawk because I was afraid that if I let them out of my sight for even a moment, I would never see them again. Hotch probably felt the same way about me this time around… But I really just needed him to take a step back and let me breathe.

When I did get back to work about a month after Hawai’i, it wasn’t an easy transition. All the way to the office, Hotch tried to convince me into reconsidering going back. If it were up to him, I would have been at home for the next nine months or so. But I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be locked up for months on end, sitting around, worrying about Hotch and the rest of the team as they went out to work on hundreds of cases without me. That wasn’t going to happen. I had a life to get back to. I could deal with my trauma outside of work— just like Hotch, who was still going to therapy because of what happened with Foyet while still going to work, too. And if he was just worried about me being pregnant, which I was sure was a factor, then he had to understand that it wasn’t a big deal yet. It was a miracle, of course, but it wasn’t impeding my ability to work just yet.

I just had to keep reminding Hotch that I had been to hell and back a thousand times, and this was just one more thing to add to the shit list. If I could get through all of that, I could get through this. But if Hotch started blowing this all out of proportion and made a big deal out of it, we were going to have problems. I compared it to when he found out the truth about those photos the Fisher King had taken out of my jewelry box, and he promised that he wouldn’t treat me any differently knowing what he knew now. I needed that understanding back. He always told me that he trusted my judgement—if he didn’t, he would have never let me go near that train Elle was being held hostage on in Texas a few years back—so I just needed him to trust me now. I was going to be fine. I was fine.

On Tuesday, after driving into work and getting some reports done, the team gathered in the roundtable room to discuss potential cases. Only, JJ already had a case in mind. Daniel Lanham, a ten year old boy, was reported missing on a camping trip by his father last November… Over a year ago… He was never found. In fact, the case had run so cold, that the police were initially grasping at straws by trying to pin the whole disappearance on the father. However, with no forensic evidence tying him to a crime, they couldn’t arrest him; but now that Daniel’s body had just appeared on the Appalachian Trail, questions were starting to stir and fingers were being pointed again.

I stared at the photo of that boy’s decayed body. He was only ten. How could someone do this to a child—How could someone do this to their own child, if that were really the case. I mean, there were signs of care and remorse with the body that indicated personal attachment that a father could potentially have. Daniel’s body had been wrapped in a plastic bag that was buried underground and covered by elements, all in the name of preserving and protecting the body from weather, animals, natural accelerated decay, etc. But this was an opportunistic crime. Our Unsub, if he was hunting for a victim on the Appalachian Trail, had to sit and wait for the perfect boy to come along. Or if Daniel’s father was responsible, he had to wait until his son was alone with him. Either way, it was an opportunity that arose, not a sophisticated, targeted attack. That was… unless…

“JJ, are there any more missing persons or mysterious deaths on the trail that could be connected to this?” I asked.

“The Rangers contacted me with this case, and they claimed that they’ve never seen anything like it. So, I’m going to assume not. But I’ll check with them when we get on the jet, just in case.”

“It says here that Daniel’s father went back to the trail every month in search for his son?” Hotch questioned, looking through the file. “And then he stopped in March.” He stopped in his tracks as a realization hit him. “Which is about the same time the M.E. estimates Daniel was killed.” He closed his case file. “Y/N, we’ll talk to Mr. Lanham when we arrive at the Park Ranger’s office. JJ, can you have them organize that while we’re on the jet and you’re contacting them about similar cases?”

“Sure,” she answered.

“Prentiss and Morgan, when we get to the trail, you guys should head out to where Daniel Lanham’s body was found in order to get an understanding of this Unsub’s level of mental stability.”

By that, he was alluding to the fact that we weren’t sure if our Unsub was Mr. Lanham or not. If this presented as organized or disorganized, it would help us conclude on way or another, and if there was anything else important out there that they Rangers missed, it might help us build our profile. So, it truly made sense that we would send someone out there. But I wished that it were me. Hotch usually teamed me up with Morgan—or, at times, Morgan and Emily. I wanted to go on the trail with them so bad. But Hotch wanted me to stay back in the Ranger’s office with him in order to question Mr. Lanham, even though that was a small enough task for one of us to do alone.

----

The Park Ranger’s office was more like a large cabin. Actually, that was exactly what it was—and it was similar to Gideon’s cabin, but perhaps twice that size. There was one main office where all of the Rangers had been waiting for our arrival, then there was the lead Ranger’s office to the left, and, lastly, set ahead was a boardroom where we could meet privately if need be. As we walked in, we were immediately told that Mr. Lanham was waiting for us in said boardroom.

While Emily and Morgan turned on their heels to head straight out to the trail as Hotch ordered, Rossi, Reid, and JJ moved to the table in the middle of the room that had a large map taped down to it for us to get our bearings. Reid immediately started building the geographical profile. So, while he was busy with that, and JJ and Rossi were getting caught up with the Ranger’s investigation, Hotch and I headed into the boardroom.

Hotch held the door open for me. I silently thanked him as I headed inside to see Mr. Lanham sitting at a desk, never looking up to acknowledge us. We carefully approached.

“Mr. Lanham, I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Greenaway, and we’re with the Behavior Analysis Unit at the FBI. We’ve been called in to investigate your son’s death.” Hotch pulled a chair out for me. “We need to ask you some questions.” After I sat down, Hotch moved to take a seat in the chair next to me.

Mr. Lanham shrugged, keeping his eyes lowered, his hands in his lap, his leg shaking nervously under the table. All signs that he had issues with authority. Some of them were signs of guilt, but they could also be attributed to his frustration with the FBI questioning him when he thought that everyone had forgotten him as a suspect. I understood why he felt that way. However, it was necessary to ask him these questions in order to confirm or deny if he had any involvement in his son’s death. So far, it was inconclusive.

“You went almost twice a month out to the site where your son disappeared from November to March. And then you stopped going.”

He nodded. “That’s correct.”

“Why? Why stop at the same time he died? Because that looks awfully suspicious to us, Mr. Lanham.”

“I don’t know. Alright? I just—” He let out a heavy sigh as his body slumped in his seat. A sign of defeat rather than guilt. “I had this… feeling that he was gone. And it was taking too much out of me to keep searching. You probably don’t know what that feels like.”

I glanced over at Hotch. When Foyet took Haley and Jack, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something terrible was going to happen, and no one was going to be able to stop it. And then Haley died. My suspicions had been confirmed, my heart shattered in my chest, and yet… the anxiety dialed back. I could remember still being hysterical and worried out of my mind because I wasn’t sure if Hotch and Jack were dead; but… Now that we were sitting there and Mr. Lanham had brought up this “feeling” he had, I realized that some part of me that day knew that they were still alive. I still had a sliver of hope that Jack was just hiding, safe and sound in his secret spot, and I had a feeling that Hotch was alright. And I was correct. Hotch was beaten and broken, of course, but he was alive. And my little man was alive. So, I understood that “feeling” Mr. Lanham had referred to.

Hotch moved on. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you used to take Daniel camping every weekend.”

“Yes. His mother had full custody, but she allowed me to see him on the weekends.”

Hotch and I knew that feeling all too well. Haley practically had full custody, but she allowed us to see Jack whenever we were in town; but it was still hard. Co-parenting was hard. I couldn’t imagine how Hotch did it alone all those years.

“So, the night he disappeared, what happened?” I asked. Mr. Lanham didn’t respond because he seemed at a loss for words. Even though he had recited his story a thousand times for local police, state police, Park Rangers, and so on, he couldn’t find the right words anymore. I really couldn’t blame him.

“You set up camp…” Hotch began egging him on once he noticed Mr. Lanham’s hesitancy. “You fell asleep… And then… A man came into your tent?”

“No. No one came into the tent. Daniel got up because he had to use the bathroom. He didn’t wake me up because he was in that phase where he was convinced that he didn’t need his dad protecting him all the time…” He sniffled. “So, I rolled over and I went back to sleep. I should’ve—” His voice cracked behind a sob. “I should’ve gone after him. But I didn’t.”

“Mr—” I began, but he interrupted me.

“I was his hero, and I failed,” Mr. Lanham cried before hiding his face in his hands out of shame.

I recognized the look on his face as he had said it, though. It was the same look Hotch wore for months after Haley died. He was ashamed that he couldn’t have done more to save her, and he failed at being Jack’s superhero when he needed it most.

“I don’t care that you all think I’m guilty. Because I am! I am guilty! I didn’t protect my son when he needed me most.” He looked up at us. “If I could go to prison for that, I would.”

Without a doubt, I knew that there was no way Mr. Lanham hurt his son. That kind of thinking—that sort of regret couldn’t be replicated by any kind of sociopath. No. Only a true grieving father who had been through hell could possibly feel that way. And since I had seen Hotch go through the exact same motions after Haley’s death, I knew that Mr. Lanham was innocent, and that he wasn’t putting any kind of show on for us. He genuinely regretted that night.

But I just couldn’t sit there and keep listening to his distraught cries. The way he was sobbing while blaming himself for something he had no control over only took me back to over a year ago where Hotch practically collapsed in my arms after Haley’s wake, and he pleaded with me about moving houses because he couldn’t stand being in that house anymore. The cries were eerily similar. And the worst part was, that parental regret that Mr. Lanham was starting to rub off on me when it came to Jack, and now the regret was turning into panic with our baby. Fuck.

I stood and saw myself out of the boardroom. Hotch was hot on my heels, likely because he didn’t want to listen to it any longer, either. The superhero thing hit too hard. We were Jack’s superheroes—we always had been—and the day that Foyet killed Haley, we failed him. We couldn’t protect him and his mom practically the one time it mattered most. Before, I used to regret that deeply, of course, but now that there were… other factors involved… I felt all of that ten times harder now, and it made me reflect on what the hell Hotch and I were actually going to do to prevent something like that from happening ever again. I didn’t want it to be Jack or our baby that we would lose next time—No. There would be no next time… This was exactly why I had to get away from Mr. Lanham while he was like that.

Apparently, Emily and Morgan had gotten back from the trail while we were talking to Daniel’s dad. They were standing around the map table in the middle of the office, a marker in Emily’s hand as they told Rossi and Reid everything they found out there. More bodies. And by more, I mean a lot more. Where they went to find Daniel’s burial ground, they ended up finding at least a dozen other bodies that Rangers were working to dig up currently so that they could be identified. So, this just turned serial.

“His name is Tyler Dale. He was the same age as Daniel when he went missing, and he was on a family trip when it happened,” Morgan explained, catching me and Hotch up to date with what everyone else knew.

Reid immediately scurried off with this new information to work on something that was churning in his mind, something that he couldn’t explain to us quite yet or it would ruin his thought process. We all turned to watch him silently work. We knew that whatever it was, it was likely important, and likely to help us. Honestly, if I were to guess, now that I was watching him scan through both Daniel and Tyler’s files a mile a minute, he was probably working on victimology. If he wasn’t, I was going to start. He was the fast reader, but I was the quick spotter. I almost wanted to challenge him one day into seeing who could solve a cold or closed case first—like the Foothpath Killer. Considering I solved that one the fastest, and Gideon was incredibly impressed, I was sure I could win against Spencer Reid.

And then he jumped to his feet with a thought. Okay… So, maybe he would put up a good fight. But I liked a challenge. I kept considering it as Reid set the files out on the map table and started dialing Garcia’s number on the conference phone. I cocked a brow at him. What was it that he found? Or, actually, what was it that he thought he had found?

“Garcia—” Reid began.

“Oh, it’s the boy wonder!” she cheered. “You never call me. It’s so isolating…”

Reid smiled lightly in response. “Sorry. We’ve been a bit busy.”

“I forgive you. I guess.”

Those of us who were standing around chuckled somewhat. Reid immediately turned back to his work when he shook it off, though, so that he could get back to what it was he called her for. “Can you look up the missing persons reports on the trail, specifically young boys between the ages of nine to thirteen.”

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“The Unsub’s probably in his late thirties to forties, so disregard any cases older than twenty years.”

“What are you doing?” Rossi asked, utterly confused.

Reid hardly acknowledged Rossi when he answered with, “Speeding up the process of identifying those kids.” He grabbed a pen. “Garcia, narrow it down to boys with dark hair only. How many do we have now?”

“Twelve.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “They’ve only found ten bodies so far.”

Reid stood tall. “Yeah, but they’re still looking. It’s entirely possible those other two boys are out there. Garcia, which of those is the oldest case?”

“Um… Victor Dane disappeared when he was ten… and that was…” Garcia paused and gulped. “Oh. Fifteen years ago. They never found out what happened to him, but Rangers at the time suspected that he just happened to get lost.” That was usually their excuse when people went missing out there.

“What time of year was that?”

“October 20th.”

Reid was scribbling notes down on a piece of paper in one of the kids’ files. “What about the other boys? Did they all disappear around that time?”

“Yeah… How did you…”

“Thanks, Garcia.” Reid hung up on her without any consideration, and he stood to face all of us.

As we all huddled around, Reid began explaining how the cogs turning in his head had just come up with a dozen different answers to the problems we were facing. For our profile of the Unsub, we were missing any kind of link between how, when, and why the victims were taken. But Reid figured it out. Now that we had the identity of another kid, he was able to connect some of the dots, but what Garcia told him explained it all clearly to him. Our Unsub was crossing stateliness, which was why no one connected the dots—and he was spending months doing so. To hike the entire trail would take about six months. He was taking his victims in the fall, and we knew from Tyler and Daniel, he was killing the boys in the winter…

He was torturing them for months on end… He got away with it because no one knew that he existed.

I cringed and took a step back and away from the group. I felt Hotch’s eyes following me, so I didn’t let any emotion show that would give away the panic building in my chest. What if Hotch had thought that I just wandered off in Hawai’i? What if he had really been convinced that I left to go back to the Mainland—that I had left him… No one knew that those men who took me existed. No one knew that there were people out there who were so loyal to The Reaper. No one knew that I was a target. I could have died if Hotch didn’t know me so well. I could have died if the team didn’t have enough trust in him and I to know that something was wrong. I could have ended up like those boys that were being dug up in the forest.

I swallowed all of my pain.

----

That night, Hotch forced me to go back to the hotel with him while the team stayed at the Ranger’s office to have a long night of working. I think this move of his had more to do with Hawai’i than anything else. He was worried that I wasn’t better. He thought that I was suppressing any memories or PTSD in order to trick him into thinking that I was alright. And maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t at all okay because every time I closed my eyes, I was terrified that someone else who had seen “Foyet’s website” would come to kill me, Jack, or Hotch. I was dreading a call from home while we were gone on this case that would tell us that someone took our little man from us. Foyet was always cruel. There was no doubt about it. But I never thought that it would get this far after death, after Hotch had bashed his face in to the point he was unrecognizable.

I needed rest desperately. For once, I wasn’t going to argue with Hotch about something related to dictating my life. Because I clearly needed to sleep, but Hotch didn’t, he decided to set up shop at the desk while I rolled into bed, which meant that I could afford to at least close my eyes because someone was keeping watch. Usually, Hotch fell asleep without struggle. If I were wrapped in his arms, it would take only a few minutes before he would completely crash and start snoring in my ear—but I could never fell asleep. If I did, there was a chance someone could take him from me. Something like Hawai’i could happen to him if I weren’t careful. So, I stayed up nearly every night just to ensure no one would come in and take him—or even to make sure that no one was lurking in the house to hurt Jack. But Hotch was staying up now. He was sitting at the desk, looking over the case, facing the door and the window, which was a reassurance to me that meant that no one could sneak up on him now.

So, I relaxed.

After a few minutes, I heard Hotch get up to grab his pajamas and toiletries from his go-bag and head into the bathroom. My eyes followed him until he closed the door.

I curled up on the bed, bringing my knees up ever so slightly towards my chest, and I laid my hands over my stomach. It was so odd… Everything felt normal, but it clearly wasn’t. Between the fact that Hotch was being overprotective and that I was subconsciously protecting my stomach more, it was obvious that I was pregnant; but I wasn’t showing yet, and I technically couldn’t even feel anything yet. It was just knowledge and an unconscious drive to protect something we couldn’t even see or feel. But the strangest part of it all was that I couldn’t wait to have more than that. I couldn’t wait to hold our baby, to see if they got mine or Hotch’s eyes, or what color hair they would end up with. Every second that we wasted just knowing and not seeing was torture. I was just excited to skip the next few months and finally have them in my arms.

Hotch came out of the bathroom, his face washed, teeth brushed, hair combed out of his face, and his suit switched out for his pajamas. When he saw my curled on the bed, he smiled. I smiled back at him. Despite how tense I had been about his protective behavior, I could find myself relaxing and falling in love with him over and over again every time he looked at me like that. It was this sparkle in his eyes that spoke volumes about how much he eternally loved me. And that smile… It was this slight curl at the corner of his lips that ever so slowly turned into a wide, toothy grin the longer he stared at me. It was pure joy. And it was absolutely contagious. I found that every time I spotted that smile growing on his face, I’d start smiling ear to ear, laughing at how cute and silly he was.

Aaron Hotchner… Cute and silly… It was strange to think about that sometimes—how I knew him in that capacity when no one else even got a hint of that side of him. In fact, most people didn’t know that he was capable of smiling. But he was. He was capable of so much, and he was deserving of every happiness in the world. After everything he had been through, I could confidently say he earned eternal bliss.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. He always whispered when he was afraid of disturbing me because he was taken by the way I was just… existing. I wasn’t doing anything special, yet he didn’t want me to move. I could tell that he wanted to remember me like that for a little longer.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?” He moved to sit down at the end of the bed, bringing my feet onto his lap so that he could massage them lightly. I relaxed immediately. When he started rubbing his thumb into the arch of my foot, I rotated somewhat so that I was laying on my back and looking at him.

“What Mr. Lanham said about his son,” I answered. “I’m terrified that something is going to happen to our kid, Aaron. Terrified. We know what’s out there—We know who’s out there. How can we possibly protect them from all the evils out there?”

“We just try our best.”

“Mr. Lanham tried his best. You tried your best. What if I can’t try my best?”

Hotch moved his thumbs to the pads of my feet. “It’s hard, Y/N. I’m not going to lie. All that pain and panic you feel on behalf of Jack is going to be ten times worse now with your own flesh and blood. That doesn’t mean that you love Jack any less—please don’t take it that way. But it is different when they’re your own. So, this anxiety you’re feeling now is entirely valid. Trust me. But it’s a day by day thing. You do your best one day, and then you try even harder the next. That’s all you can do. There’s no point in dwelling on what you could have done better or what horribly thing can potentially happen.”

“And if we fail?”

“We won’t.”

“How do—”

“We won’t,” he said more sternly.

I reached out to squeeze his bicep, since that was all I could reach and reaffirm. Maybe I did understand why he wanted to protect me. Maybe he was just doing his best with me, and he felt that his day to day best wasn’t enough. But it was. Actually, it was more than enough.

“I love you.”

He kissed his way up from my ankle to my hip, slowly moving around until he was hovering over me and I was giggling at the way his kisses tickled to me. I punched at his pecks lightly in a playful attempt to make him stop. But he didn’t. He only smirked and moved to kiss my stomach. I ran my fingers through his hair, encouraging him to stay there because I loved how it felt. I loved thinking to myself that we knew something was there, though we couldn’t see it, yet he had an instinct to still show me every bit of love. Especially there.

“I love you,” he whispered against my stomach.

----

In the morning. Hotch and I woke to a call from the Park Rangers that two kids had just been reported missing on the trail. A boy and a girl. Robert and Ana Copeland. That didn’t match our Unsub’s M.O. at all, but we simply couldn’t take the chance. Knowing that the body count out in the forest was only increasing with every knew hole Rangers were digging out there, it was entirely possible that the Unsub was spiraling. It wasn’t worth ignoring. If it meant potentially saving those kids, we were going to at least look into it. If it turned out that it had nothing to do with our case, it would be passed on to the Rangers and local PD, who could hopefully help the parents seek closure.

Until then, we had to try our best. So, we hurried out of bed and raced to the Ranger’s office. When we got there, JJ was already setting up a search party with the Rangers and local volunteers who found out that the kids went missing and wanted to help. Hotch pulled me to the side before we stepped in.

“You should stay here with Reid, give us some outside geographical help,” he offered.

I cocked a brow at him, scoffed, then walked away. There was no fucking way I was doing that. Fucking ridiculous. “JJ,” I said, tapping her shoulder. She turned to face me. “I’ll take the far East quadrant.” I pointed to her map, signaling to the area of the forest that I was referring to. It happened to be the smallest with the least amount of volunteers to oversee, so I figured that Hotch would at least compromise on that. “And I’ll check out the—"

Hotch suddenly grabbed my bicep a little harder than expected and started pulling me to the board room to talk to me privately. He let go of my arm as I stumbled inside, catching my balance quickly before turning to face him. He was frowning like he was angry with me. My eyes followed him as he locked the door then proceeded to turn all of the blinds up so that they were closed, making it so that no one could see into the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked me, crossing his arms over his chest once the room was made private and dark.

I shrugged. “I’m going to go help those kids.”

He shook his head. “I’m benching you.”

“Hotch—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

He was oddly calm. Usually, if I gave him push back like this, he’d try to be a little more demanding— whether it be with his boss or Sir tone. Either would have worked on me, but he was still holding back. Asshole. Just fucking crack. Please. Give me something in response to my pushback. Recognize that I’m fucking with you because I want you back, and just do something! Please!

“You can’t bench me—”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed. “I’m pulling you from the field. You shouldn’t have come back this early. And I don’t want you to get hurt, especially since there are new factors involved.”

I chuckled. So that was what this was about. I wasn’t even showing, and he was already losing his shit. This was exactly why I was scared to tell him I was pregnant in the first place. I knew that this would fucking happen. “That’s bullshit,” I snapped. I just wanted him to fight with me. Was that too much to ask? “You didn’t pull JJ out of the field until she was too pregnant to even walk.”

“That was different.”

“It really fucking isn’t, Aaron! I’m going to go out there and I’m going to help find those kids and our Unsub, and there’s really nothing you can do to stop me right now. If you want to pull me out of the field, then you’re going to have to wait until we get back to the office and tell Strauss exactly why.” I started making my way towards the door. “Until then, I’m going—"

Hotch stepped in my way, making me crash into him slightly, but he didn’t waver. “Sit down and shut up,” Hotch demanded gruffly.

I gulped and instinctively took an obedient seat on the couch. There was the Hotch I knew. I found him in there somehow, which meant that I was right about him holding back on my behalf. He still wanted to be rough with me, I could see it in his eyes; but he was doing everything in his power to not do it because he thought I was fragile. I wasn’t fragile. He knew better than anyone that I wasn’t fragile. Hopefully, all it would take was this one snap and we’d be back in business.

Hotch paced the room for a moment before stopping just in front of me. He roughly pinched my face with one hand to make me look up at him. “You want things to be normal? Fine. Stop being a brat and listen to my orders. You’re staying here with Reid, and that’s the end of it.” He let go of my face.

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded.

His chest fell as he let out a relieved sigh, “Good girl.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he caught his breath, trying to come to terms with what he had just done, and how he thought it was entirely out of line. “Sorry,” he whispered under his breath, ashamed.

I shook my head while standing. “I love you.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him gingerly. “I’m sorry for pushing your buttons.”

He kissed me back. “It’s okay.” He let go of me, and I let go of him, then, within an instant, Hotch was storming off towards the door. “Call me if you and Reid find anything.”

I hesitantly agreed, watching him leave the board room and head out with the team, the Rangers, and all of the volunteers. It was just me and Reid in the Park Ranger’s office now. He glanced over at me, confusion written all over his face, but I just shrugged it off. I didn’t need him asking questions when I was still coming to terms with it myself.

I shook my head, unfolded my arms, and headed to the map table to search it with my eyes and fingers to find anywhere that stood out to me as a good place to hide out for the winter and to keep hostages. Reid was hovering over it with a pen in hand in order to help him pinpoint certain areas. When he saw something, he circled it. The only time I spotted something, I asked him to circle it, too.

Yet, all I could think about was Hotch while I should have been thinking about those kids that were out there, scared out of their wits as a monster did who knew what with them. I should have been focused. We weren’t supposed to let our emotions get in the way, which was a main concern Hotch and I had when we initially started dating. We couldn’t forget our work. We couldn’t let our relationship get in the way of saving lives. And I was trying to remind myself of that while staring at that map, attempting to force my eyes to focus in on something, but I just couldn’t. My mind was elsewhere.

“He’s probably hiding them in a cave,” he continued. I hummed a thoughtless agreement. “Somewhere near water so that he can live off the land.” I agreed again. “And then aliens came down and took them.” I hummed again. “What’s wrong with you?” Reid asked, circling a waterfall on the map. I cocked a brow, knowing that he could sense my confusion without having to look up. “I mean… I don’t want to pry, but something’s off.”

“It’s nothing,” I insisted. I knew that he was referring to how Hotch and I were practically dancing around each other, which wasn’t like us at all— especially since we just went through something which should have only brought us closer.

Reid looked up at me through his eyelashes for a brief moment to get a profile on me. He looked back down. “It makes sense, you know,” he commented while still scribbling on the map. I raised a brow, and he sensed my confusion again, so he continued, “Hotch has lost a lot. More than anyone should have to lose. It’s no surprise that he’s being more careful with you than he ever was with anyone else. He’s had to learn and evolve based on his experiences, and that evolution has brought him to being— for a lack of a better term— a helicopter parent. I don't think he’s necessarily trying to suffocate you, like you think he is. In his mind, he’s reminding himself of everything he could have done differently with Haley that could have saved their relationship and her life, and he’s testing out these new behaviors with you.

They say that a mother’s bond with her child is the strongest connection any two humans can have; but we’re still primal creatures, and the fathers have a tendency to become overbearingly protective once they are aware that their mates are carrying their child. Think of it like a wolf marking its territory. The wolf becomes hostile towards anything or anyone that tries to come near its territory because it’s their safe space and they have an instinct to protect it with their life. Fathers of most species are the same way with the mothers of their children, and humans happen to be the worst about it because we’re more advanced creatures—”

“Reid,” I spoke up, catching his attention, “you’re rambling.”

He chuckled self-consciously. “Sorry… I’m just trying to say that… things aren’t going to go back to normal— for a while, at least. He’s trying to make up for his past mistakes. And after what happened in Hawai’i, you can understand why he’s a little uneasy and a little more protective than you’d like. It might help if both of you, I don’t know… set some rules and boundaries.”

I smirked. “Is that the doctor’s advice?”

He shook his head and looked back down at the map. “It’s your friend’s advice.”

“Thank you, Spencer.” I put a hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly, the walkie talkie on the table started buzzing with static. Mine and Reid’s attention to turn to it just before we heard Morgan’s voice echo through the room with an update from the trail, a really good update, actually. They found the daughter. She was safe with him and Emily, and they were sending her back to the office with a Ranger so that I could question her because they couldn’t find her brother anywhere yet. I picked up the walkie to acknowledge his report.

We waited about thirty minutes after the call from Morgan to see the Copelands come in with JJ from the trail while looking around for their daughter who hadn’t arrived yet. JJ showed them to the boardroom so that they could wait there. When they were sitting down and holding each other anxiously, JJ came over to me and Reid and asked if we would be fine with waiting with the Copelands while she headed back out to the trail to work with the other volunteers who had a million questions for her. I shrugged and insisted that she go. I could handle this while Reid kept looking at the map.

On her way out, JJ ran into Ana and the Ranger that had brought her back. Ana was covered in dirt, her jacket torn up, her hair knotted, her eyes sunken out of exhaustion. I didn’t see any bruises on her, though. In fact, from where I was standing, I didn’t see any sign of any kind of abuse—sexual or otherwise. It made sense. Unfortunately, our Unsub’s type was kids, but he preferred boys. Whatever happened out there in the woods, there was probably a reason that Ana was with us and not Robert. Hopefully, she could give us some answers.

After sitting around for a few minutes, watching as the Copelands held their daughter close and let her cry against them, I decided to go in. Sitting there and watching them was just breaking my heart. All it did was remind me of all the times after Haley’s death when Jack would cling to me for dear life, crying into my shoulder until my shirt was soaked and I needed to change. I had never heard anyone sob in pain like that until that dreadful day when Hotch broke down, and then Jack started having nightmares. The two of them were in pain… They just couldn’t stop sobbing and whimpering. Ana was the same way.

I couldn’t cry like that when they found me in Hawai’i. Part of me knew that if I broke down and sobbed like that, then Hotch would have been in even worse shape than he already was. Besides, I had happy news that offset how I was really feeling. We had this little miracle in our lives now, and all of my focus was being drilled into that instead of remembering the panic I felt when I saw Gene standing just behind Hotch on the beach. I had to remember that in just a few months, there would be another little Hotchner running around—just as we had always joked about—and it distracted me from waking up with nightmares of sitting in that cabin, anticipating the moment they would finally decide to get rid of me.

I couldn’t keep thinking about it. I was sick of sitting around and waiting for something to happen. So, I carefully pushed into the room that the Copelands were sitting in, and I entered with a welcoming, kind smile that would help the scared little girl warm up to me. A thought occurred to me. I was never going to let my children be that terrified. Ever. I dreaded being an overbearing parent, but I knew what was out there, and I knew what I needed to do in order to protect my family. I was going to do whatever it would take. Neither of my kids would ever have to be in Ana or Robert’s shoes. No matter what.

“Hi, Ana.” I held my hand out for her to shake, just a simple way of me building rapport with her while also making her feel more adult and brave than she really was. “My name’s Y/N Greenaway, and I’m with the FBI. I’ve been looking for you and your brother, Robert.” She shook my hand warily. As she let go, I sat down in the seat across from her and crossed my ankles over each other. “Are you up for a few questions?”

Ana nodded shyly, tucking under her mother’s arm as much as possible.

“Cool.” I smiled at her. “What do you remember?”

“I shouldn’t’ve left Robert, but he told me to run. He made me promise to go when he distracted the man.”

“You did the right thing, Ana,” I reassured her, playing along with the dodge of my original question.

“But he still has my brother.”

“You being here because you listened to your brother is going to help us, though. I promise. I need you to tell me about the man who took you if we’re going to find Robert. Can you do that?”

She nodded. “We were in a cave…” she began slowly, pondering her words carefully as she tried to push through the nightmares running through her. I knew what that felt like. “He kept us in a cage with toys. Lots and lots of toys. There were no lights, and he stole Robert’s flashlight to make sure we couldn’t see anything.”

“What about the man, Ana?”

It was great that she was already being so open and talkative, but we knew all of this because Morgan and Emily were already searching for a cave, and the Unsub was probably long gone by now if he knew that Ana had escaped. We needed to know about him specifically in order to build the profile and find him.

“He was dirty,” she answered, “and scary. He was tall and fat. He walked funny and didn’t like to talk—”

“What do you mean by ‘he walked funny’?”

“Like, with a limp…”

“So, he was hurt?”

“I think so. That was why he couldn’t catch me, but he could catch Robert. He always took Robert. Never me. He took Robert at one point, and when he came back, he was crying and shaking, and that was when he told me that I needed to run the next time the man came for him. So, Robert pretended like he had to use the bathroom, and the man left the cage unlocked… Robert pushed him over long enough for me to run.” She started to sob. “I shouldn’t have left him!” She hid her face against her mother’s chest. “I shouldn’t’ve left him!”

I rubbed my hand over her back soothingly. “You did really good, Ana. Thank you.”

There was a knock at the door from Reid, a signal that he needed to talk to me privately. I nodded to him. I had gotten everything I could get out of Ana—at least for right now—and it was probably best just to let her relax and be with her family. I knew that after Hawai’i, all I wanted was to be with our family. I wanted Hotch, Jack, Morgan, Emily, Rossi, Reid, and JJ. I needed their support. I needed to know that they were okay, because if they were, then it gave me every reason—or excuse, depending on how you looked at it—to be okay, too. Ana probably needed that right now, too.

So, I silently stepped out of the room, letting the door fall shut quietly. I crossed my arms over my chest as I looked at Reid. He lifted his phone and turned the screen to face me, at which point I saw an image of a flower I was not at all familiar with, and I really had zero clue as to why he was showing it to me. I shrugged.

Reid looked at the photo again. “Emily and Morgan found his cave.”

“Robert?”

“They’re both gone. But Emily sent me this picture.”

“What is it?”

“It’s called Devil’s Claw.”

“Which is…”

“It helps heal swollen joints. Without it, our Unsub will be in a lot of pain.”

I glanced over my shoulder back into the room where Ana was hugging her parents as tight as she could—the same way Jack would always hug me and Hotch whenever he was upset. A superman hug. I looked back at Reid. “She told me that our Unsub walks with a limp. It’s probably connected.”

“If it’s really that bad that he still walks with a limp while taking this, it means he’s going to need more of it. And fast.”

“Where can you get it?”

“I mean, the flower version, like this, is all over the forest out there. But you can get it in pill or powder form on the black market, if you know where to look.”

“He’s going to head into town with Robert,” I realized. “And if he’s spending all of his time out on the trail, not working… That means he doesn’t have any money.”

“He’s going to sell Robert for drugs.”

I hesitated. “He wouldn’t give Robert away entirely. It goes against his M.O. You’re right, he’s going to sell Robert; but not the way you would think.” I hurried over to the walkie talkie sitting on the table and lifted it towards my mouth, pressing the TALK button as fast as I could. “Hotch.” I let go of the button and waited.

“I’m here,” he answered momentarily.

“Everyone needs to come back. Our Unsub isn’t out there anymore. He’s heading into town.”

And they did come back. It took a bit, but the entire team raced to get back to the Ranger’s office, at which point, we started discussing where the Unsub could have possibly gone, using our extremely loose profile we had. It really wasn’t enough to present to the Rangers or PD, but it was barely enough for us to use to our advantage. Knowing that he would have to get his medicine as fast as possible, we knew that he was going to turn to the black market—but in order to know who was possibly selling anything similar to Devil’s Claw, he had to already have connections in that world. Since we had previously deduced that he had been operating on the trail for at least fifteen years, that meant that he probably hadn’t met many criminals since then, so it had to be beforehand. But how did this pattern not appear sooner? Why hadn’t he started kidnapping children or abusing them sooner?

The simple answer was prison. It would explain why he was stagnant for a while, and why he was so fond of hiding in isolation. Not to mention, he probably met other pedophiles in there. And drug dealers. If he was desperate, he was going to meet with someone he knew and could trust to understand his medical condition, and also someone who would be willing to take time with a child as payment.

So, we called Garcia. We asked her to look for a man with a sexual assault history who was released from prison about sixteen years ago, then missed parole meetings fifteen years ago by going entirely off the grid. One would be shocked by how many men matched that description. So, we asked her to look for someone who had originally been housed near other registered sex offenders before going missing. That did the trick.

His name was Shane Wyland, and he had a long medical history when he was in prison. I mean, sex offenders were top targets inside, but he went to the infirmary more than the average pedophile. When I asked if it had to do with swollen joints, she agreed. She told us that Shane had a condition that made it increasingly difficult to keep moving around, even with the medication he was getting. But, in prison, they didn’t have what he needed. So, he had to get it from his bunk mate, another pedophile who was released around the same time as Shane.

“We need an address for his bunk mate,” Hotch insisted.

“That’s the thing,” Garcia began while still typing in order to get the address to us ASAP, “there are a handful of registered sex offenders who all share the same address.”

“What?” I questioned.

“It’s a cluster,” Emily said. When we all cocked a brow at her, she continued, “Since sex offenders can’t be near parks or school zones, their housing options are limited. Usually, they’ll reach out to their buddies from prison and ask if they know anywhere that will house them. That’s how they all end up with each other.”

Hotch shook his head. He hissed, “Garcia, the address, please.”

“Right. Sorry, sir.” She pressed the ENTER key of her computer as hard as she could, and we all felt our phones buzz.

As they all looked at their phones to take note of the building number and street name, I watched Hotch to see if there was any way he would let me go. They had a whole building to clear. I could be an asset. My time was better spent clearing the building with them than sitting around in the Park Ranger’s office, counting the minutes until the team would return. I really fucking hated feeling useless.

The team started collecting their gear, throwing on vests as fast as they could and putting comms in their ears. I waited for Hotch to tell me one way or the other. But, when I didn’t do anything, he didn’t seem to argue. I figured that if I were to move towards them and start gearing up, too, that was when things would have spiraled. All I could do was shake my head in disappointment and move to take a seat at the table with Reid. He was staying behind in case that lead didn’t pan out, which wasn’t very likely, but it was still a good idea to have back up. But he didn’t need me there. That was a one person job, and we all fucking knew it.

“Hey—” JJ called out, hurrying over to me. She slowed as I turned to face her. “Are you and Hotch alright?”

I peered over her shoulder to see Hotch talking to Morgan about how they were going to narrow down where the Unsub was and how we were going to get to him without letting the kid get hurt or die. I looked back at her. “Hotch is trying to pull me out of the field after this case, and we had a fight about it.”

“Oh…” She looked at her feet, almost like she regretted asking in the first place.

Ever since the bombing case in New York, I stopped opening up to JJ about my relationship with Hotch. She had insisted that she thought that Hotch and I were taking things to fast, and she almost seemed to doubt us. It really wasn’t until our wedding that I saw that she had changed her mind. But that was a little too late. By that point, I didn’t necessarily care about any opinion she had on my relationship. I valued her as a friend and a team member, of course; but… this… I just…

“Well,” she began hesitantly, “I know that you’ll figure it out. The two of you always get through it. I hardly hear about you guys fighting, so I wouldn’t stress over it too much.”

I nodded and shrugged. I mean, she was right, actually—kind of throwing what I just thought back in my face. But still. Hotch and I had always been honest and open with each other, which was why we were so successful. If I just listened to Spence, used my words and tried to level with Hotch, then we could sort all of this out and come to a better conclusion than pulling me out of the field entirely.

When they left without a word to me or Reid, I sat down across from Reid. We sat in silence for nearly thirty minutes as we waited around uselessly. The team let us know when they arrived in the city; and they let us know how they were splitting up. Rossi and Hotch were going to stay outside while Emily and Morgan were going to head inside, and JJ was going to coordinate with the local PD that had just appeared on site. A few minutes later, the comms started buzzing with back-and-forths.

“Hey, Hotch,” Emily said into the comms. “It looks like Robert was in the apartment, and there was a struggle. There’s a chance he could have escaped, which means that Shane and his bunk mate are probably chasing him around right now.”

Hotch responded, “Alright. You and Morgan continue to search the building, I’ll start a perimeter set up out here.”

“Got it.”

The comms went quiet again. I pouted and slumped forward, resting my elbows on my knees. Reid watched me through his lashes like he was trying not to stare at me. I glanced back at him. When our eyes met, he cleared his throat and shuffled around in his seat to make it look like he was keeping busy with the files in front of him. I rolled my eyes.

“You remember when you were shot in the leg and Hotch made you stay at the office during cases?” I asked quietly, moving to pick at the wood table in an attempt to cure my boredom. Reid hummed an agreement. “How did you not go crazy?”

Perhaps that wasn’t the right wording I should have used around him… He was always nervous about his dilaudid problem and the fear that his mother’s schizophrenia could be passed onto him. “Crazy” wasn’t exactly the right term for Spencer Reid. He was our resident genius, and that put a lot of pressure on him, and I wished that he knew that he wasn’t crazy, but I could tell that he thought he was. So, I almost felt bad for the slip up. But Reid genuinely didn’t seem to notice, which was a relief.

Reid crossed his legs, getting himself comfortable, and he looked back up at me with a little more confidence this time around. “I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, it wasn’t fun. None of us are used to sitting at Quantico all day like Garcia is. When Hotch officially benched me after Hankle and getting shot, there were times when I thought I was going crazy. I was extremely anxious while just sitting around all day. And I was killing myself with worry that one of you—or maybe all of you—wouldn’t come home one day… But I had to suck it up and just go with it until I got better because I knew that, ultimately, Hotch was just trying to protect me. Now, he’s just trying to protect you, too. He’d do it for any one of us for any number of reasons. My advice is the same as before. Talk to him, Y/N. And, if that doesn’t work, then just… suck it up and get through the next few months, because no matter how often you argue with him, you’re not going to win. Trust me. I tried.”

“I hate arguing with him, Spencer…”

He nodded. “I know. That’s why it might just be best to let him win this one.”

I lowered my head and leaned back again to focus on kicking the carpet. “Yeah.” Maybe he was right. I mean, maybe I shouldn’t have been taking advice from Spencer Reid, the guy who never had a girlfriend in his life… but his advice was surprisingly nice and welcoming.

“Hotch, we’ve got Robert, but Shane’s gone. We think he might be in the immediate vicinity,” Emily said over the comm again.

I smiled. They got him. They found Ana, and now they had found Robert. Knowing how many cops were crawling around that neighborhood now that Hotch had created that a perimeter, Shane Wyland was probably long gone. There was no way in hell he stuck around long enough to see if he could get Robert back. He likely knew as well as I did that if he managed to escape, he could keep taking other boys like Robert, and he could keep getting away with it. Even now that we knew who we were looking for, the trail was too long for us to track him. He was a ghost in the wind. But none of that necessarily mattered right now. This was technically a win for us. We saved two kids from a monster, and we discovered who that monster was. At least we could keep an eye out for Wyland in the future.

I stood and walked to the boardroom to tell the Courtlands the news. When I told them that their son was alive and well, they jumped to their feet while letting out breaths of relieve, and demanded to see him immediately. I told them that a Ranger would be driving them to the hospital in the city. Within an instant, they were pushing past me, racing to go seek out a Ranger that could take them as soon as possible. I didn’t take offense to that, though. I knew that they were overwhelmed by their joy of knowing that their son was alive, and all they wanted now was to hold him in their arms. It reminded me of Hotch when he found me in Hawai’i.

Hotch…

I sat down on the couch in silence and reflected on what just happened, and what I was inevitably going to say to him. I loved him. I would protect him to every end. In fact, we said as much to each other in our wedding vows a month ago. Maybe Reid was right about not trying to fight all of this, and instead just let Hotch win this time around because it was easier than making a big deal out of it. Inevitably, I was going to get back to work. Probably in about a year or so. And as shitty as that seemed, at least it meant I got to go back. Hotch could have totally insisted that I quit the FBI—though I knew he would never ask me to do that; so, at least he was giving me the chance to still work out of the field. I could live with that for the time being. However, what I needed to discuss with Hotch more than anything was his behavior and how he was going about protecting me, because I really didn’t need him to stifle me through all of this. After being trapped in that cabin in Hawai’i, I never wanted to be trapped anywhere ever again.

When I saw him turn the corner into the office a few hours later after they gave up on looking for Shane Wyland, I nodded sideways towards the doorway I was standing in, letting him know that I needed him to join me. He silently noticed. As the team patted each other on the back and celebrated getting the kid back safe and sound, Hotch quietly and politely excused himself from everyone. They didn’t seem to stop him. Reid saw what was going on, though, and he sent me a supportive smile that let me know I was doing the right thing.

Hotch walked past me into the room, and I closed the door behind him. “Aaron, we need to talk.” I sat down on the couch, but he leaned back against the table with his arms crossed over his chest. He was listening. “I understand that you’re just trying to do what you think is best for me. I know that you think that keeping me locked up in the tower will keep me safe. And I appreciate all of that. I really do. In fact, I love that you want to protect me and take care of me, but you need to realize that at some point, you need to take a step back. That I can’t be babied, Aaron. It’s not in my nature, and we both know that. I can’t have you hovering over my shoulder every second of every day while telling me that I can and can’t do my job. I can do this. It wasn’t unreasonable for me to go out and look for those kids, but it was unreasonable for me to ask to go looking for the Unsub in the city—I know that. I know myself and I know my limits. I’m not going to suddenly break just because I’m pregnant. I’m okay right now.

“When I need to take a step back from the field, I will do so without hesitation or argument; but until then, you need to keep letting me do my job the way I’m supposed to. I just need you to believe in me—"

“If I didn’t believe in you, we wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

“If you believe in me, then just… act like it! Why is it that I always have to go above and beyond to support you and your dreams, but I’m stifled because you’re scared? You believe in me, but you don’t—”

“You have always been able to do what you wanted, Y/N! I have done everything I can to restrain myself from being controlling in every aspect of our lives, despite the fact that it’s all I know. I grew up in a household where my father was controlling, manipulative, and abusive. That was how I learned to become a man, and I always thought that would work because I was young and naïve; but Haley left, and you came along— and you…” He took in a deep breath. “You have always been this wild and free spirit that I knew I couldn’t control, so I wanted to step back and let you thrive because I know you’re capable of so much, Y/N. Do you remember that I wouldn’t even fucking look at you when you joined the team because I was so fucking in love with you that I didn’t know how to stop myself from letting my feelings trump your dreams? But you came waltzing into my office, demanding answers, and the next thing I knew, you were meeting Jack and telling me that you love me. I have had to fight an inner battle every single day since meeting you between screaming from the top of my lungs how much I love you and want to hide you away from the cruelness of this world, and letting you spread your wings and flourish as an agent. You deserve every bit of happiness, and I know that a lot of that comes from your work, so I never want to step on your toes. But you’re my wife, Y/N. I made a vow to you that I would protect you, no matter what. And, you’re right… maybe I’m being more protective with you than I have with anyone in the past, but can you blame me? Dammit, with everything I’ve been through, can you blame me for not wanting to lose you, too?”

His eyes wandered to my stomach as he sat back down. “We’re having a baby, Y/N. I’m not just protecting you anymore, and you’re not just taking care of yourself anymore. What happens if you get shot, hmm? What happens if you get stabbed like Foyet did to me? What happens if you get taken again like in Hawai’i? What happens if I lose you like I lost Kate and Haley? Am I just supposed to pretend like I wouldn’t die without you here? Am I supposed to forget about you and the best few years of my life? Why do I have to pretend like I don’t care just to make you feel better about yourself? Since meeting you, I could never bear the thought of losing you, but now I can’t bear the thought of losing either of you,” he pressed a palm to my stomach. “Aren’t my feelings valid, too? Don’t I get a say in the safety of our child?” He cupped my face with his other hand. “Please don’t make me lose you, too. I won’t live if I lose you.” He sniffled as a tear slid down his cheek. I reached up and carefully wiped it away with my thumb. “I believe in you, Y/N, more than I even believe in myself…” He screwed his eyes shut as the tears started to fall faster. “But I don’t want to lose you because you’re too damn stubborn to just sit out of the field for a few months.” He sniffled again. “Why is it so hard for you to just understand that I love you so much that it hurts to even think about being away from you? Can’t you just accept that I want what’s best for you— I always have— and right now that means keeping you safe from any harm.”

I rested my forehead against his. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Y/N. I just need you to understand that I love you. More than anything.”

I kissed away a tear running down his cheek. “I know, baby.”

“If I didn’t believe in you… I couldn’t have stood before all of our friends and family a month ago, and said, ‘This is the person I can’t bear to lose. This is the one thing in my life I can’t lose.’ That’s what I thought we agreed on…”

He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug so that he could hide his face in the crook of my neck. I tangled my fingers in his hair. I hadn’t meant to upset him, but I just needed him to know how I was feeling—but I had never stopped to ask myself how he was feeling, which was incredibly selfish of me.

“How about this,” I began offering carefully, waiting to see if he would stop me, but he didn’t, “when I start to show, I’ll stay back at the office with Garcia.” It wasn’t what I wanted, but if it made him feel better, I was willing to make that compromise.

He sniffled and sat up. We held each other’s faces, searching each other’s eyes, trying to find a reason that we shouldn’t agree to that. But there was no reason not to. If it were up to him, I would be sitting at home for the next few months, but that wasn’t reasonable for me; and if it were up to me, I would be in the field up until the day I was giving birth, but Hotch would never let that happen in a million years. At least, being at Quantico meant that I could still help with the cases and the profiles.

“The office or the house at any given moment,” he negotiated.

I shrugged and nodded.

“Okay.” He leaned in to kiss me before hugging me again, our chins tucked over each other’s shoulders. “I love you.”

I grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt on his back, feeling the way his broad shoulders tensed, and his breathing had slowed. I smiled lightly against him. We were going to be okay. “I love you, too.”

---------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @desperately-bisexual @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[carinyms]

(I don’t know if anyone who follows me even watches Loki, but if you do and feel compelled to analyze it with someone please hmu, because no one I personally know cares about this show and listen I care SO MUCH)

Anyway, here’s an extremely disjointed thought dump on episode three, it’s a lot :)

1. I got so much serotonin from them playing that Hayley Kiyoko song over the opening credits, oh my god.

2. I love Sylvie, I LOVE her. Just an iconic badass—so snarky, so powerful. 10/10. (When she took that cape off?? That outfit?? This whole show is just Bi Panic for me) I’m sure they’re setting her up to be very sympathetic and then she will inevitably stab Loki in the back at some point, and you know what that’s fine.

3. Their screen chemistry and banter is incredible, nearly on the same level as the scenes with Mobius and Loki. (Which is good bc speaking of which, I miss Owen Wilson). I can’t wait till we get a scene with all three of them working together, it will be fantastic.

4. God, I want to see Loki truly in full power just annihilate someone in a fight just once. I do think it’s purposeful that we’re not seeing that right now — the writers can’t seriously think the audience collectively forgot that this guy took down 5 (6?) dark elves with his hands bound and now he can’t throw a knife and hit a target that's not even moving?? There has to be a reason. I’m choosing to have faith in Kate Herron here. (But I’m tired of seeing him getting tossed around like a sack of potatoes :( )

5. I think Sylvie explaining how to enchant someone has to be foreshadowing, right? By the end of the series, either Loki will have puzzled out how to do it and tap into Sylvie’s mind, or vise versa, Sylvie will get into Loki’s head an unearth something nasty (This is SO dumb of me to hope for, I’m setting myself up for disappointment, but maybe Thanos memories here?? I’m really going full fanfic narrative with this one lol but wow can you imagine.)

6. Or, Loki will use this tactic to get into Mobius’ head and wake him up to the truth. (Also, can we talk about how concerned he was when he was like, ‘But the TVA workers don’t know they’re variants!!” Loki you little SOFTIE. Headcanon that he’s now not gonna want to hurt any of the TVA workers because they’re all brainwashed and our guy knows a thing or two about that?? BEGGING the show to acknowledge this. (Please, could we have a little bit of recognition of trauma Marvel? As a treat?)

(I will be let down lol)

7. Speaking of the brainwashed TVA workers, I have questions about how this works. Mobius remembers jet skis, but Casey didn’t know what a fish was? Is it just because Casey doesn’t work in the field? Does Mobius just have a stronger mind that Ravonna has to keep continuously wiping because he remembers snippets? That would explain the multiple water rings on her table they drew attention to— but why would the TVA let him have that magazine if they didn’t want their agents remembering anything??

8. Also, uhh…Is Ravonna a timekeeper? This is a theory that keeps popping up for me.

9. Loki and Sylvie’s conversation on the train was wonderful.

10. We LOVE a confirmed Bicon.

11. Him talking about and remembering Frigga, and his viewpoint on love feels like lines out of a fanfic come to life and I love it. Part of me is like “this level of vulnerability feels OOC” (and don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of other things that felt truly OOC) but this particular aspect feels more like we’re seeing a more apathetic, carefree, nihilistic version of Loki than we’ve ever seen, so maybe he’s just given up on the masks? Anyhow, I love this side of his character we’re seeing.

12. Loki singing in Norwegian. That is all.

12.2 Actually no, that’s not all. It had such ‘Aragorn singing at his coronation vibes’, in that it both caught me extremely off-guard and got me very emotional. Apparently the lyrics (someone translated) are all about missing home, and wow he’s really just missing his family and a sense of belonging *so much* that he’s chosen to recreate what I’d imagine an Asgardian party was like — getting drunk (although he clearly wasn’t drunk, just acting drunk), singing asgardian songs, smashing the glass on the ground and saying “Another!” (Which we can now assume was just an asgardian custom at parties bc how would he have known Thor did that?) Someone pointed out the planet that they’re on is called Lamentis, and dang this whole episode is all about Loki grieving and longing for what he’s lost? and I’m so hyped for when they end up in Asgard again. I don’t know what will happen but there will be Angst and tears, perfect recipe for a good time.

13. Speaking of Thor, is he going to tell Sylvie about him at some point? Because I will cry. Like, I guarantee it.

14. My only gripe here is that drunk Loki was giving me big Jack Sparrow energy towards the very end and I am Not About That

15. Why does Sylvie understand Norwegian?? This song meant something to her too, clearly, she was getting teary eyed, like it was something she was familiar with and I just have so many questions about how her timeline was different/similar.

16. And going off that, I’m just going to say it—I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW VARIANTS WORK. Because if a variant is created by someone branching from their ‘true path’, wouldn’t every variant have the same base-story? Thus all look the same, have a similar past? (The same parents, the same origin?) I know the TVA’s sacred-timeline thing is all BS, that much is obvious—and Sylvie’s history is making me wonder (that is, if she truly IS a Loki ‘variant’), is the TVA’s description of branched timelines really accurate at all, or are some variants from a fully alternate reality overlapping with this one? I’m trusting they will make this make more sense.

17. I love the moments of humanity we’re getting from Loki, but especially the one where he’s surveying all those people in the town and goes “they’re gonna let these people die…” Like, what a great comparison to Loki in Ragnarok, who goes back and rescues his people because he couldn’t let them die in good conscious when he could do something about it. I like to think that being raised as a prince, there is an inherent feeling of ‘rulers should look after their people” buried under everything, and that what was going through his head was “how could they abandon these people without thought?” I love that even though that was a different Loki, they’re showing (not just telling) that the core of him truly does care about people, and the person he developed into in the original franchise is still there.

18. Also that line perfectly sets up what I’m sure is going to happen in the next episode—that they’ll find a way to escape the planet and save the people (or some of them), which will create a branch and alert the TVA to where they are, thus Loki getting brought back in.

19. the Rolled Up Sleeves look is. mhmm. It’s Good.

20. LOKI CATCHING THAT WHOLE BUILDING WITH HIS MAGIC???? BYE

Alright I’m done now, this was so chaotic, but also I really just wanted to document my thoughts on the show for myself so it's fine

[joined-at-the-everything]

It’s an awkward drive back to Sioux Falls.  

It’s full of uncomfortable questions and uncomfortable answers, stuffy silence that makes Kaia seriously consider ripping her skin off. Jody keeps trying to be nice , to talk to her, to get her to open up about her trauma or whatever, because apparently spending all the time she spent in the literal apocalyptic wasteland that plagued her nightmares since she was a little girl isn’t considered all that healthy.  

Kaia thinks, if anything, she’s lost a bit of that particular childhood fear.  

Somehow, it’s even worse when the drive’s over and they walk into the house. Alex and Patience are there. And- she's got no clue what Jody told them about her little vacation, but they walk on eggshells around her, clumsily avoiding all the difficult topics they possibly can to the point where they barely speak at all save for some clipped sentences here and there.  

Kaia supposes it’s kind of nice, that they’re trying.  

But she doesn’t really know them all that well, and besides-  

They keep acting like she’s going to shatter any second, take a wrong step and break down, start screaming and crying and begging for- for what? Kaia doesn’t know, doesn’t even try to understand whatever it is that goes through their heads.  

She just wants to rest. To be alone.  

She asks for a bed to sleep in.  

“Uh, yeah- yeah, yeah, of course” Jody says, all hurried and eager to please, and she wasn’t really acting that way in the car, but it seems like Alex and Patience’s attitude may be contagious. “We don’t have a spare bedroom but Claire isn’t here yet, so you can take her room in the meantime” she nods to herself, turns to Alex. “Sweetheart, did you change the sheets like I asked you?”  

Alex opens her eyes very wide. “Shit. Fuck- I can- I can do it now, just give me a-”  

But Patience grabs her arm before she can squirrel away, rolls her eyes. “I did it already. Before you got home. I knew you’d forget it”  

“Oh” Alex breathes.  

And then there’s more of that stuffy silence Kaia is starting to hate.  

“I’m gonna- go, now” she starts, awkwardly. “I’m tired”  

“Of course, Kaia, you must be exhausted” Jody says, motherly and soft. Kaia isn’t sure she likes that tone either. “Feel free to take whatever from Claire’s closet, I’m sure she won’t mind”  

And maybe Kaia should thank her for letting her stay, no questions asked, for feeding her and clothing her and for not changing her mind after spending twelve or so hours trying to coax a conversation out of her and receiving nothing.  

All she does is nod courtly and all but throw herself towards the staircase.  

Claire’s room looks more or less exactly the same as she remembers it from those brief minutes all that time ago. It’s small, and so very Claire . It’s just a twin tucked in a corner near the door, all mismatched pillows and faded duvet, a bunch of trinkets thrown about carelessly. There's no art in the walls.  

It still feels loved, though, lived in.  

Kais shuts the door behind her and breathes out.  

She makes a beeline for the closet, allows herself to smile at the sight of the mess inside. It’s easy to picture Claire being scolded for letting her bedroom become messy and disorganized, and then deciding the obvious course of action is shoving her things in the closet where Jody won’t see them. Kaia digs through heaps of shoes, and plush animals, and weapons, until she finds a soft t-shirt with the logo of some movie from the eighties she vaguely remembers watching when she was a kid printed in the front.  

She folds Jack’s clothes and puts them aside, changes into Claire’s shirt.  

Then she’s turning off the light, laying on the bed.  

She doesn’t sleep.  

Doesn’t even try to, really.  

There might be a deep-rooted fear somewhere in there, an incessant wondering of exactly what the hell is supposed to happen when she sleeps, now that that other Kaia is dead. Maybe now she won’t ever see the Bad Place again. Or maybe she will- plagued by nightmares, visions, her own memories mixed with the ones of another version of her.  

She doesn’t know which option is worse.  

In any case, she doesn’t sleep.  

She lays in the dark, her eyes snapped shut, and lets the minutes bleed into hours and hours, until the light filtering through the shut door turns off, until Jody, and Alex, and Patience are tucked away in their own bedrooms.  

She doesn’t sleep, and she lets time slip through her fingertips, and then, long after she’s drowsy and dozy, fighting sleep for some petulant reason she can’t quite comprehend, then, then she hears the distinct sound of a car’s brakes being pushed down a little too roughly, one of its doors being opened and shut a little too quickly.  

Heavy footsteps.  

Dangling keys, fumbled with, briefly dropped.  

It can only be one person, can’t it?

But still- Kaia holds her breath, holds herself still.  

She hears someone getting up from somewhere in the bedrooms, going down the stairs- Jody, probably, and then there are hushed whispers Kaia can’t understand a single word of no matter how hard she tries. There’s some whining, some sighing, and then-  

Heavy footsteps.  

Creaking stairs.  

The door to Claire’s bedroom snaps open.  

Kaia scrambles to sit up on the bed, and, for some painstakingly long seconds, she can’t really see anything at all- the light from the hallway allowing her nothing but a shapeless silhouette blocking the door. But then her eyes adjust to the light, and-  

And it’s her.  

It’s Claire.  

She stares right at Kaia, and Kaia stares right back.  

It’s funny- because after all that time in the Bad Place, Kaia though she surely must have been misremembering, surely those eyes, so open, so full of emotion, and love, and violence, couldn’t coexist with that face, those features, delicate and dainty.  

Turns out she wasn’t misremembering.  

The silence stretches, but this one time it doesn’t feel stuffy and uncomfortable, no, it feels- it feels expectant, and Kaia bathes in it, does nothing but note every single detail she possibly can about Claire, every new scar and the way her hair has changed.  

They don’t move.  

They don’t speak.

They don’t breathe.  

And then-  

Then Claire opens her mouth like she’s going to speak but no sound comes out save from a small croak, and Kaia sees it before it happens- Claire sobs , cries out something childish and vulnerable and so unlike her that Kaia doesn’t know what to do.  

She allows herself all of two seconds to do nothing but watch helplessly before she’s flinging herself forward, crawling on her hands and knees towards the foot of the bed, towards Claire, and she thinks she’s being quick but Claire beats her to it and they meet somewhere in the middle, the both of them on the bed, on their knees, clinging to each other.  

“Kaia,” Claire chokes out. “ Kaia, Kaia, Kaia”  

And Kaia doesn’t know what to do, what to say, so she just clings to Claire’s shoulders, squeezes her middle, buries her face on the crook of her neck.  

Claire cries, she cries as if it’s the only thing she’s ever known how to do, breathing in and out in quick succession, sobbing , whimpering, her heart beating a mile a minute against Kaia’s own. “ Kaia ,” she keeps saying, like a prayer. “ Kaia, Kaia ”  

Kaia pulls away but doesn’t let go of her shoulders, doesn’t move far away enough from her that her fingers will leave their spot from where they’re clenched around her waist.  

She rests her palms against Claire’s cheeks, wipes at her tears with her thumbs.  

The tears keep coming.  

She gives up- leaves her hands exactly where they are, though.  

“I- I thought,” Claire starts, hiccuping and sniffing. Her eyes are wide, and open, and so very blue. “I thought you were dead, Kaia. I saw you die, I thought you were dead”  

Kaia nods, because- what the hell else can she do, anyway? “I know, I know. It’s okay”  

But Claire shakes her head side to side, sobs out something ugly and somehow louder. “No, it’s not okay. Jody said-” she cuts herself off to take a big gulp of air. “Shit- Jody said you were there the whole time- alone, Kaia. Alone in- in that place, and- and I left you there. I don’t-”  

“Hey, no” Kaia says, interrupting. She lets her hands wander back to Claire’s shoulders, the back of her neck. “No, Claire. It’s- it’s okay”  

It’s really not okay.  

Not in the slightest.  

But-  

Claire is shaking, and sniffling, and she keeps looking at her like she’s something precious, and, far more importantly- it's not her fault. It’s so not okay, because Kaia thinks she’s forgotten how to be a person, how to look someone in the eye and not cower in fear, how to stand out in the open without her brain screaming at her that it’s either eat or being eaten, but it’s also not Claire’s fault . Not Claire, Claire who held her hand and promised all sorts of things no one had ever promised to her before, gentle and kind.  

“It’s okay, Claire” Kaia repeats, softly, for her and her only. “It’s- I’m here now, it’s okay”  

Claire keeps shaking her head. The tears keep rolling off her cheeks.  

Kaia-  

Kaia does the one thing she can think of.  

She surges forward and plants her lips against Claire’s.  

It’s a barely there kiss, just a peck of the lips, something small and insignificant, and Kaia kinda wants to light herself on fire the second she does it because it’s not like she’s allowed to do things like this, to even think about wanting things like this, because it’s not like Claire cares about the random teenage junkie she met for half a day some literal years ago half as much as said junkie cares about her, it’s not like Kaia deserves things like this.  

She pulls away, and she wants to scream, but she doesn’t.  

Claire stands there frozen.  

Kaia digs her nails into her palms. “I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking”  

Claire doesn’t really react to her words, but her breath keeps coming in a little jagged, and the tears just won’t coming, and then-  

Then Claire whimpers, loud and unabashed.  

She whimpers, and before Kaia can begin to wonder what it means, she’s throwing herself forward, and her lips are crashing against Kaia’s, and it’s not short and innocuous and innocent like it was a moment ago, it’s all desperate and wet, full of a feeling that hangs heavy around them, that drowns out everything else.  

Claire kisses her, and Kaia kisses back.  

They kiss and they kiss and they kiss, and then Claire’s pushing her back against the pillows, straddling her hips and holding on tight.  

Sometime between it all Claire breaks into tears once again, sobbing into her mouth, and this one time Kaia breaks into tears too because- fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, she spent an ungodly amount of time stuck in a nightmarish place, days, and months, and years, more time than she thought she could ever survive, thinking she was never going to see another human being ever again, thinking she’d never get the chance to live and kiss and cry.  

They cry, and they kiss, and it’s probably the worst make out session that has ever existed, but still - it's good, it’s wonderful, it’s everything Kaia never allowed herself to wish for.  

Claire pulls away, suddenly, wordlessly lets herself fall back in the bed, stares at the ceiling while they lay side by side, their shoulders touching.  

The sound of their breaths is overtly loud, chests raising and falling fast enough that someone could mistakenly assume they just ran a marathon. Kaia wipes at her tears. Claire doesn’t.  

They don’t speak, for a while.  

Kaia thinks they should probably discuss whatever the hell just happened, talk about their lives, their pasts and their future.  

But she-  

She doesn’t really want to.  

Not now, anyway.  

She twists onto her side, looks Claire in the eye. “Sleep,” she announces, with no other explanation. “We- sleep ”

And Claire nods, looks at her all reverently, borderline worshipping, like she’d do literally anything Kaia asked her for, no questions asked. But she doesn’t move in the slightest.  

So Kaia gets up, shuts the bedroom’s door softly, sits back down on the foot of the bed. She takes one of Claire’s boots and unlaces it gently, pulls it off her foot, does the same with the other one. Then she crawls forward and unbuttons her jeans, pulls them of her hips as delicately as she can manage. Claire watches her the whole time, quiet and adoring.  

Kaia folds the jeans, sets the boots aside.  

Then she curls under Claire’s arm and goes to sleep.

[dawnwave16]

Not what I expected

OMG 2 chapters in 1 day!  Anyway thank you to everyone who has stuck with me as I wrote this fic!  It is my first and I have learne a lot.  I might do one-shots of this at a later stage but right now, I’d like to try something else!

First; 12; 13(Final!)

Chapter 13:

This was not going to be pleasant. 

She was right when she had said it wasn't going to be pleasant. She'd spent the rest of the day collecting all the loaned out miraculi except the turtle and then she'd had to go to the Agreste Mansion to search it top to bottom for any other miraculi or Miraculous related artefacts. Commissaire Clement had been very understanding about the fact that they couldn't take any of it for evidence. He had also handed back the turtle miraculous without a protest.

The search had not been pleasant in the slightest. Four more maraculi were found but as they had obvious damage to them they had never been used, she'd have to heal them to free the Kwamis in them. The grimoire was reclaimed as were several scrolls and journals some were encoded some were not. The worst surprise by far, however, was finding Mrs Agreste in a cryotube near Hawkmoths old lair. Adrian had had to walk away for an hour to calm himself, though her clever kitty had made the excuse that he needed to talk to Adrian needed to be told.

It was decided she would be taken to the hospital and checked over by doctors. If they couldn't do anything for her, they would turn off the machines. Marinette could see how much this decision hurt Adrian but she couldn't help but feel proud of him. She also knew that this would just add to the number of counselling sessions he would be taking.

Once everything in the mansion had been cleared, she had raced home, stored everything away and headed to the police station to give her statement against Nakane. That had not been pleasant at all. By the time she had finished she felt raw from the many emotions that had spilt out that now that she had finally let herself feel again. Again it was Commissaire Clement, that had taken her statement, though her dad had stayed in the room with her and they had been very understanding whenever she had needed a break to compose herself. She had been grateful when she had finally been allowed to leave the station even though she knew that her part of making sure Nekane never got out of jail was just beginning. Her mother would also be spending time in jail. Although she had had nothing to do with Nekane's actions, she had helped to cover them up. As far as the law was concerned she was just as guilty as her daughter. 

She spent the rest of the weekend with her dad and little brother, finally able to relax and get to know them properly, rather than have to spend any time she had with them going over strategies. Morgan had gone over her battle strategy from the fight with Candid and pointed out she could have called on any of the members of the team to help. She had pointed out that had she done that, her identity would have been revealed which made Morgan smile and ruffle her hair, pleased that she had pointed it out. She had also spent time with JJ, Prentiss and Garcia, all three of them would be going home with the knowledge that they would be receiving a custom made MDC original, something that made all three of her new aunts very happy. Rossi had taken to teaching her the best ways to handle her fame once her brand had become known and she had had several games of chess against Reid.

It had been during a quiet moment when she had been dozing on the couch while cuddled up to Jack that Jack had broken her mellow mood completely. His face had been totally innocent but she could see the glint in his eye as he looked at her and she was immediately on guard for whatever would happen next. It hadn't helped though.

“So, Nette, when are you seeing your boyfriend again?” Her face had gone blood red and the little imp had had the nerve to laugh at her. The reaction from all the adults in the room had been instantaneous though.

“Boyfriend!”

“What boyfriend?”

“Who do I need to kill for stealing my niece's heart?”

Jack had started laughing at that stage so Hotch had turned to him and asked Jack if he'd been joking but Jack shook his head with a cheeky grin. He didn't say anything else though, his sister's dark look made sure of that! All the adults fixed the blushing teen with a look.

“Explain. Now.”

Marinette sighed and grumbled under her breath.

“I'm so going to get you back when you start dating Jack!” Jack just smiled so Marinette continued, “Ali had been sending me gifts anonymously since his last visit. At first, I thought it was Adrian but after he and I had our talk about our feelings and decided we were better off as friends, I started looking for more clues. I probably would have figured it out sooner but as you all know I had other things on my mind. Anyway, once I did I sent him an email and we started to talk to each other that way. When he came to visit the other day he asked me to be his girlfriend and I agreed. We wanted to see how things would go once things calmed down before we said anything to anyone though.” 

She fidgeted slightly towards the end of her explanation, making the adults smile.

“I'm glad you not committing to anything serious just yet but please let us know if it ever gets that way.” Sabine smiled as she spoke, then laughed as Marinette nodded rapidly.

The BAU team was flying home in the morning as they had been away for quite some time and Cruz was getting antsy about their absence. Apparently, cases had been pilling up, so they all settled back to just relax and even played a few games of UMS III where Marinette thrashed everyone. They had agreed that she could take the Monday morning off to see them off so they didn't say goodbye that night. Due to this, there were quite a few teary goodbyes when they were all at the airport. They all agreed she would visit over the upcoming Christmas holiday and they would work things out from there.

Walking into class after lunch was a weird experience for Marinette. The news of Jagged and Penny's wedding had been published in a magazine that morning, so her class had seen her all done up in the photo's. They also knew that she had designed the wedding outfits, and handmade them and they were all clamouring for the details. They seemed to want to push the matter of Nekane to one side, but as much as Marinette wished to she just couldn't. She ignored them for as long as she could by texting Ali and Adrian. One for support, the other to find out if he was at school or not. He wasn't so she volunteered to take note for him which he gratefully accepted.

Alya took the choice of if she wanted to deal with her class or not away from her by snatching her phone straight out of her hands.

“Gurl, I was talking to you!”

“No, Alya, you were talking at me and expecting me to listen. I don't see why I should.” Marinette said calmly, her tone still showing the pain she was feeling though. “Now, please hand my phone back to me, I was in the middle of a conversation of my own.” 

Alya flinched at Marinette's tone and the implications of her words but seemed determined to stand her ground. “Oh, yeah, with whom?”

“I don't see how that is any business of yours. Or of anyone currently present in this class if I'm honest.” This time the whole class flinched. “Now, hand me back my phone.”

“Not until you talk to us again.” Alya stubbornly declared.

“Mlle Césaire, give Mlle Dupain-Cheng her phone back right now! It is not your property and it is not your right to demand answers from her. You are already on thin ice young lady. Don't push your luck.” Marinette didn't know who this new teacher was but she liked her already! 

Alya handed Marinette her phone and sulkily went to sit down. Classes went smoothly not that there was no fear on Marinette's part of another Akuma attack. There was an interview set up for Ladybug to give an official press release scheduled for Saturday Morning. They had delayed letting the public know so that no-one would connect Hawkmoth to Gabriel Agreste. This wasn't done to protect Gabriel but to protect Adrian.

They would never release the details about who Hawkmoth and Mayura were if everything went to plan. Officially Gabriel and Nathalie had been arrested for drugging Mrs Agreste to the point that she is now in a coma and would have a closed trial. Similarly, Adrian was out of school due to having stumbled across his mother by accident somewhere in the mansion and had called the police to report his father. As far as Paris knew he was in intense councilling for the trauma of finding her. Her parents had also put their name down to adopt Adrian however it had been decided that he would live with his long term bodyguard Gustave Marius Beaufort.

By the time school had finished for the day Marinette had had it with her class. First, they had said she was their Everyday Ladybug, then when Nekane had joined she was a bully, now it seemed she was back to being the flavour of the month. She was over it. She didn't, however, think that they were worth getting angry over nor did she think she owed them anything. So she ignored them and stuck to her group of friends, which included Alix and Nathaniel of course. Adrian did the same when he came back too. None of the class was happy with this but anytime they tried to protest a teacher would step in. It took two weeks for the class to realise that things were not going to go back to the way things were before. As for Marinette's true friends? They enjoyed being able to relax knowing they did the right thing.

@northernbluetongue; @moonlightstar64; @wargraymon0709; @winter-gardenflower; @bee-wrecker; @starsshineandgivehope; @goggles-mcgee; @vivilakitty

[dotthings]

Okay SPN 15.04, here we go, where I feel weirdly self-conscious about posting a meta post about an ep that had so much meta on itself and now I’m going to write meta about it, so it’s meta on meta on meta, while I’m having my feelings.

THAT COLD OPEN HOLY CRAP DIRECTOR JENSEN. As a director Jensen always pulls out warm performances from actors and he’s a really kinetic director too. That opening fight sequence I held my breath for a lot of it. 

BENNY OH NOES IT’S BENNY (this must be the character Jensen said was one of his favorites and the actor came back to set for one day to do it). “I’ll see you on the other side, brother.” Thanks so MUCH, spn, I thought I was over this and then you come in and reopen that and now I’ve got feelings gdi. Benny was a good friend to Dean. My heart hurts. 

Ohshitohshitohshitohshit demon blood Sam. Noooooo. And he kills Dean. I can never erase these images from my mind, thanks a LOT spn. 

Just a nightmare of Sam’s except no probably not given Sam’s god-wound, so wow this maybe happens on one of Chuck’s other worlds, that’s fine, oh that’s okay I’m fiiiiine, it’s fine. *covers face*

So we have a flip on early S14 here where Dean was turtling to cope with his trauma which is a healthy thing to do but hiding from the world wasn’t going to fix anything so Sam coaxes him out with a hunt. Dean coaxes Sam out with a hunt only I don’t think hunting works for Sam the same way, it’s not Sam’s mental comfort food the way it is for Dean, but still I appreciate the mirroring there.

Sam’s struggling with Rowena’s death and I think those horrific AU nightmare visions aren’t helping much either, but it’s clear he’s feeling the loss. Her loss, all the recent losses.

Dean trolls Sam with real bacon, which seems like Dean is maybe trying to cheer Sam up by pranking him and trying to cheer himself up via food pranks. Dean has quite the case of the munchies in this ep. 

I noticed almost every scene Dean is snacking or drinking from his flask. How’s that whole “Cas walked out and left apparently for good” working out for you Dean, wow, you’re suspiciously chipper while stuffing your face and drinking and Not Talking About It. Did Sam and Dean talk about where’s Cas? Who knows, the ep didn’t mention it, hey SPN you needed a Cas mention, OH WAIT THE EP IS GOING TO CALL ME OUT FOR SAYING THAT.

Seriously though, this is very Dean MO, and I have thoughts about his mood in this ep and how Cas’s absence was felt, and what it means, I’ll get to that later, but even before the last scene Impala talk, I was thinking Cas is a reminder of pain--and no it’s not all about Dean’s anger at Cas, it’s not because Dean is angry at Cas. Cas is a reminder of some things Dean just isn’t coping with very well and part of the problem is Dean cares so much. 

So Dean’s snacking and drinking and Sam is feeling the weight of them knowing all the scary things out there while people go on obliviously with their lives and I’m not sure if Sam is envying them or Sam is feeling some existential angst about the state of the world, how people can go about their lives unaware there are real monsters ready to pounce and tear their lives to shreds. And feeling the weight of the job they do in every bone of his body. Sam’s in a dark headspace.

Ok I admit I was not thrilled to see Becky again given her previous episodes and role. SPN’s later in-canon fan characters were much more nuanced and successful and respectful depictions of fans. But as with many other things, this era of SPN is revisiting some things to move them forward in a different way than before, and subvert some things that needed subverting and Becky has had--wait for it--character development. How about that.

Yes, Becky, run, you do not want anything to do with Chuck. Run, Becky run. I’m rooting for her now. RUNNNN.

Along with finding a more constructive way of channeling her interest in the Winchesters’ lives, and having a satisfying fandom creative life and a full life of her own, Becky has funko pops of Sam, Dean, and Cas. LOL. I see you spn. 

Dean, still with the case of the munchies. So this is like the eating a whole pint of ice-cream after a break-up, only Dean does it with junk food while hunting vampires.

I enjoyed this conversation between Becky and Chuck about writing immensely. Becky is actually right. Speaking myself as someone who’s suffered from writers block for a while, it’s miserable, and not writing just perpetuates the cycle. You feel cut off from an important part of yourself. And--oh here we go getting meta within meta--I find writing meta on SPN a positive outlet. 

“Writing is writing.” Damn Becky’s takedown of Chuck’s derisiveness about fanfic was sizzling and oh excuse me Chuck, what is it you think you were doing with those Supernatural books about your favorite story. Even though he’s the creator, I know. But still. Also seems to be a sly comment on how male-authored “fanfic” based on someone else’s characters or historical characters gets to be professionally published novels and nobody wants to admit it’s fanfic but it is, but women write fanfic and women write novels based on someone else’s characters or historical figures and it gets derided. 

Did not expect commentary celebrating the creativity and validity of fanwork of women in particular an episode of SPN, especially not with Becky of all people, but here we are. 

Uhhhh is Chuck writing this episode, as it happens? I am seriously uneasy now. What is going on. What is real. Which is what I think Dean is going through because of Chuck and OUCH the Winchesters think they’re free but they’re not but also they are their own people and Chuck isn’t controlling them but it’s like he’s still making the framework?? Or would this case just be happening on his own and Perez is just messing with our heads in this script right now.

Oh damn because this ep wasn’t sadness enough now here we go with the Jack parallels. “I can’t control this.” “I’m a monster.” “I killed someone I love.” Parents doing anything to save their out of control teenage kid or does he need to be killed, so the parents are Cas, while Sam and Dean are Dean. 

Interesting that Dean lowered the gun and didn’t kill Jack, but tells Sam they would do that for Jack if it was necessary. You didn’t, though, Dean. You couldn’t go through with it any more than those distressed parents of the vampire teen.

Becky is voicing various non-dire fan complaints here, every lane of the fandom is being gently called out right now. Hahaha including lack of Cas mentions in an ep that pointedly is not!Mentioning Cas because it’s not a mistake there’s actually reasons for that which is just lampshading how much Dean is pointedly Not Going to Talk About Cas. 

“Where they sit around doing laundry and talk” -- again every lane of the fandom should feel very called out right now. Seriously, fandom lanes that hate each other’s guts all have that common factor of craving more domesticity, and would like to see the laundry ep of SPN and for many, it has better include Cas, or we’re working through our need for this via fanfics or fanart. Even Jared and Jensen have expressed interest in a “Winchesters do the laundry” kind of episode. 

But here’s the thing--here’s the thing about SPN...it depicts domesticity. In small bits of pieces. Even in this ep there’s domesticity. SO HA. It’s not that SPN is against depictions of domesticity, it’s definitely in the toolset of its storytelling, to give the characters more layers, to make their lives seem more real, but there needs to be mostly an action plot because that’s the genre so they mostly kill monsters and we only get nibbles of domesticity.

Becky and Chuck arguing about Chuck’s incredibly dark story ending, after Becky criticized him for the story not having enough bite, was so interesting. While the episode’s dark story ending was actually quite well done IMO and not overdone and yes it’s bleak but it’s supposed to be. So it’s not that sad is always terrible writing, no. It isn’t. But its overuse has been a raging hot topic in spn fandom for years and SPN is a hopeful narrative as well as a bleak one. Overuse of loss of hope and misery can hurt the story, causes a number of fans to become desensitized and lose their emotional engagement for it (which has happened to be at a couple of points in SPN’s long run). So that conversation interested me a great deal, yes it did.

So.....SPN had its current biggest of the biggest of ultimate big bads, the ultimate power God himself, the author, and made him the enthusiast for overuse of the misery pr0n like that’s the only smart way to tell a story. The season’s big bad villain is a misery porn enthusiast.

I’m just gonna....sit here and absorb that for a moment.

Oh and this while all the PR for the show keeps warning us about how sad this story is and how bleak the ending will be, not a happy ending show. Are they warning us? Are they trolling us and misdirecting? Because they made their villain a misery pr0n fanboy and this intelligent, self-aware positive depiction of Becky the fan taking him to task for it. 

I feel like could be headed for every story needs its darkness and its light, you need the darkness to appreciate the light, and you need some light or the story is less meaningful. We’ll see.

“I’m a writer,” says Chuck and then takes away everyone Becky loves and then unmakes Becky. This is a purposeful depiction of a writer creator as a sadist. It’s a diabolical reversal on the Stephen King’s Misery scenario. Becky played the deranged fangirl in the past, who kidnaps an object of obsession, now she’s the victim of the deranged sadistic writer who breaks into her home, destroys her life, and then effectively kills her because of his own obsession with making Sam and Dean wretchedly miserable because he thinks that’s the only way to make the story exciting.

*blinks*

In the last scene, oh thanks Sam, for vocalizing the Jack connection. 

Hey Dean, that’s really a nice speech and yes Sam did give you a great pep talk but Sam wasn’t the only one who told you what you did still has meaning. This is like 15.01 where Dean is pointedly erasing Cas again despite Cas very obviously having done something Dean refuses to acknowledge. In 15.01 it was Dean leaving Cas out of his us vs the forces of evil speech to Sam, despite Cas having spent most of the ep shooting ghosts in the face and saving Sam’s life twice. Sam and Cas both have given Dean pep talks about the meaning of what they do but only Sam pulled Dean out of it...uhhh yeah that’s not writer error or canon ignoring Cas. That’s Dean trying to push Cas out of his mind. Something there hurts so much Dean isn’t dealing with it right now.

As I said, as I’ve been saying, it’s not so much that Dean is that angry at Cas. It’s not just about Mary. Or about Cas keeping things from him. Although those are all valid reasons for Dean’s hurt and anger. Dean seems to be afraid or hurt over more than that. And his love for Cas, IMO, is part of why this is weighing so heavily. What does he fear. I think it’s connected to the whole existential crisis about Chuck. What if none of this is real. I’ve talked about that in other posts, if none of this is real, if Dean still doubts, then what if what’s between him and Cas isn’t real, what if Cas doesn’t really care about him because none of it real. 

Dean valiantly puts a brave face on things here, they keep going, they keep fighting for the sake of those they lost, no matter what, “keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Which makes sense. That’s how you honor those you’ve lost. It’s just that I don’t think Dean has really reached that. He is Not Dealing with an awful lot of stuff here. And we have seen again and again how hard Dean reels from losing loved ones.  So what’s going on with Dean here. This is a healthy concept, but not if Dean is just whistling past the graveyard again. This might look like character development except look at what’s been going on with Dean. How deeply losing Mary, losing Jack affected him. The impact of those losses needs to be acknowledged and dealt with in order to truly move on and move forward. It’s like Dean is voicing a healthy outlook but isn’t actually experiencing it. I think Dean is posturing because if he lets all the hurt it right now, it will devour him.

There’s also the part where Sam and Dean have in the past displayed a lack of ability to just keep on keeping on if they lose each other, so they used to sell their souls, or violate the other one’s wishes and autonomy, or let the darkness free, but we’ve also seen them let each other go, and “keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Sam and Dean have done both ways with each other. Dean didn’t exactly just keep on keeping on no problem when Cas died at the end of S12.

Sam voices the other side of things, he can’t just move on right now. He’s feeling all the losses. They’ve piled up and piled up and it’s crushing him. Sam says he "can’t breathe” at times. He brings up Jessica, a loss he suffered 14 years ago. 

So Sam and Dean are airing the two aspects of loss and grief on SPN. One the one hand, you don’t just give up and quit because of loss. Honor who you’ve lost and keep on fighting. But losses are deeply felt, and it’s not all okay either. Sam and Dean don’t just shrug off these losses because they have each other. That’s not how this works. They need more than just each other and SPN is increasingly having more and more open dialogue about all of this.

S15 so far has been so much about the impact losing people they love has on Sam and Dean, and why their isolation isn’t a good thing. 

And there’s Chuck, the big bad, typing away to add more misery. Because Chuck gets off on giving them loved ones and taking them away, over and over and this isn’t presented as a good thing or a satisfying thing or a desirable thing or a celebration of anything. 

[twilightknight17]

Today on P5S, our quest for ~*supple tentacles*~ reaches a thrilling conclusion.

Just in case anyone thought I was joking.

So we went on a grand adventure to fulfill a few requests, not just the one to let Sophia kill a bunch of Mothmans for their nonexistent tentacles. When we did go to kill Mothmans, it didn’t take long at all! And the other quests got me some nice new weapons.

He... He doesn’t ask what they are. Sir, I am so sorry. I can’t tell you what you’re touching. You wouldn’t believe me.

This quest was totally worth it, though, because Sophia is just the cutest thing ever.

Anyway, now that we’ve done that, it’s time for the final push up the castle to the cage! Which means awesome music and a bunch more pictures of how awesome this Jail is. Unfortunately, the Jack Frosts are gone, though.

Y’know, walking around in the castle courtyards, there have been some strong shadows, and not a lot of places to hide. And I just have the weirdest feeling that I’m being watched. I don’t know what could be watching me here, thoug--

The Dapper Death Snowmen are still hysterical. XDD

The thing that I find really weird, though, is that we’ve done an entire ice Jail, complete with snowboarding, but there hasn’t been a sliding block puzzle. It would be fitting. Like, you know, one of those Zelda-style ones where you move the big blocks around and they bump into rocks sticking out of the ice...

.........oh. Okay.

And now we’re into the castle for the proper climb. This one wasn’t too bad. I took the right people along for the shadows’ weaknesses. The two cage guardians were tricky, but I still had time to take a selfie. :P

It was pointed out to me that Joker doesn’t smile in the metaverse anymore, which... That’s so sad. He loved being a thief. He had his cute little cat smile. And now he’s been dragged back into all this with no chance to deal with his trauma. Poor thing.

Speaking of poor things...

So I was wrong. It wasn’t the mayor’s daughter. But it was one of her employee’s fault that the girl died. And a corrupt councilman who used that fact to threaten her. God, that’s... That’s horrible.

God, if I could beat up your shadows...

The kids go back to reality and get into a debate about where the blame actually falls. With the mayor, for not noticing the shoddy construction? The city employee, for taking the bribe because “everyone else does it”? The company doing shitty work, who offered a bribe in the first place? It’s not a black and white issue, and it was honestly refreshing to see the kids having to grapple with that kind of moral question. They don’t think the mayor bears all the responsibility, though. And then Zenkichi shows up to call them naive.

Oh, is that why I went into the interrogation alone? :/ And why should a leader always be responsible for their subordinates’ actions? You can’t control other people so that they always act how you want, no matter how good a leader you are.

The kids throw a fit at this, though. They’re not stupid. They know that they have to stop Hyodo. And insisting that they’re just playing at being heroes after everything they’ve done is just insulting, sir.

And as retribution, they basically guilt him into delivering the calling card for them again, despite his objections. One of Akira’s dialogue options is, “Might as well say yes”, and ...yeah. When my friends get it in their head that someone has to do something, they don’t change their minds. Now you know how I feel. X’‘‘D

Before we send the calling card, I decided to cook a ton of stuff. I’ve been buying out the grocery stores because having SP items is incredibly valuable. And these kids are great. Ryuji loves the ramen I made~

Haru’s very stressed about this whole thing, still, so she asks Akira to come out and talk for a bit before bed.

Me and my wife had a lovely conversation at the fountain. And I’m feeling a lot of parallels to the dream world? Haru talks about how Hyodo is basically forcing her version of what’s best on other people. Which sounds very familiar.

“When you take away someone’s Desire, you rob them of their agency-- their ability to make their own decisions. Isn’t it better to let them arrive at their own conclusions, to follow their own hearts?”

This would be really interesting in the context of having already dealt with Maruki, since they’ve seen something very similar to this scenario already.

And this quote by Shadow Mariko just reinforces that.

:|

Shadow Mariko had this cool Disney-villain design. I didn’t get a good picture, unfortunately, but she absolutely looked like an empress. I still don’t think Gluttony suited her whole situation, though. And... she didn’t turn into a cool ice fae monster. X’‘‘D

...could we have gotten the supple tentacles from her?

That was a hell of a boss fight, though. There was a part where she summons a blizzard in the room, and you have to go turn on a heater to clear it. But it’s one specific heater in one specific corner, out of four, and the blizzard for some reason slows down your movement to a crawl. So I got killed twice because I couldn’t get away from her attacks, because I couldn’t move. :/ The blizzards outside didn’t work like that, so that seems kind of unfair.

After the fight was over, we all went back outside, and the kids decided they wanted food.

.......Morgana, I cooked that for y’all before we left for the boss fight. Everyone said it was incredible. I feel so forgotten and unloved. :’(

Our Quality Yusuke Moment of the Day is Yusuke outing me for spending time with my wife.

Mariko Hyodo held a press conference and told everyone the truth, and decided to start over again with some encouragement from the little girl’s mother. It was really sweet, actually. And so was her talk with Haru. She apologized for what she’d done, and promised Haru that if she ever needed anything, she just had to ask, because she was as good as family. Which, I’m glad, because Haru deserves a good adult family member. Other than Sojiro.

...............................are you listening, Maruki?! Oh man I could have fun with this as an aftermath to Royal.

Anyway, it’s now evening; we’re waiting for Zenkichi at the moment, and I have no idea what city is next. It’s time to go do one last walkaround, clean out the grocery store, look for trinkets for my car...

Hm? What’s that Morgana? There’s a ferris wheel? Oh, that could be fu--

NOPE NOPE NOPE TOO IMPORTANT A DECISION TIME TO STOP FOR NOW.

Maybe if I leave the save file here, I can do everyone’s?

[bearsfakedthemoonlanding]

Coming Out Update

[CW: coming out, unsupportive families, transphobia]

I haven’t actually talked about it yet!  Was distracting myself from the whole ordeal by burrowing down in religious trauma.  Thanks, Pastor K.  Great, existential distraction. 

So here’s the in-and-out.

I’m twenty-three and live on my own in New Orleans, far away from my family.  I moved down here in June and started testosterone in July.  I didn’t tell anyone from back home what I was doing, and when I came out to a few trusted people, it was still a closely guarded secret from my parents. 

Knowing I had to tell them eventually, and that I might change a bit too much by Christmas to keep it a secret, I decided to come out to them.  I wrote them a letter-- I’m too far away to come out in person, and that wouldn’t have been safe.  Coming out over the phone felt insensitive, and my parents don’t have good enough internet connection or tech. know-how to manage a video chat.  So, letter it was. 

It was not graciously received, to put it delicately. 

My mom reached out pretty quickly, texting me a few questions about what I was doing.  Was I using a doctor.  Did I do the research.  Am I shaving yet. 

Then, she sent me a dozen or so big ole paragraphs of heartbreak.  

This continued for several days, until one evening she reached out over the phone.  That first conversation was hard.  She doesn’t understand what I’m doing, she thinks it’s stupid and dangerous, and that I’m making some monumental mistake.  She doesn’t understand why I can’t just be a “strong woman.”  I wish I had any concrete answer to why I am the way that I am, but the deeper I investigate it, the more I get wrapped up in “Gender Doesn’t Even Exist, Technically” and it’s just. A whole mess. 

I can’t explain why I am this way, besides the fact that I KNOW I’m this way, y’know? 

Whatever. 

She also told me that my dad had declared me dead, took down every photo of me in the house, and was considering sending out funeral announcements. 

He might not ever speak to me again. 

Don’t come home for Christmas, he doesn’t want to see me. 

That hit me pretty hard.  It feels like a pretty disgusting betrayal, honestly, to know a person for their entire lifetime, to have big conversations with them, to get to know them, to have their feelings spelled out to you with ink and paper, and to say “No, I quit.” 

I mourned for a few days.  Listened to the song Heartache Medication on repeat, bought a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and couldn’t find the gumption to drink any of it. Slept a lot.  Cried to one of my professors.

He’s changed his mind, allegedly.  I’m not quite sure where I stand.  But at my mother’s behest, I sent him a text message saying I’m ready to talk whenever he is, give me a call. 

He did not respond, but he did send me a picture of a deer he shot and asked where he should mount the head. 

Then, a week later, he calls me.  We did not talk about it.  We talked about his deer, and about my uncle who has covid, and about school and work and a problem with my apartment’s plumbing.  I couldn’t bring myself to ask if he wanted to talk about it.  He hung-up before I found the balls. 

Mom says he’s not ready yet, but he’s reading things.  She won’t tell me what he’s reading.  I’m just hoping it’s not TERF ideology, or God forbid, Lutheran brainwash bullshit.  I know he doesn’t get it.  I desperately want him too, though, and I wish he’d just reach out to Me for information.  If anyone’s gonna help him understand... 

Anyways.  My mom still calls me by my birthname, refers to me as “she/her” when mentioning her and my father’s conversations.  On the other hand, she hasn’t referred to me as “her girl” or “beautiful” since I’ve told her.  She agreed that I’ve been pretty gender fucky for a good while now, and that this isn’t the most unpredictable thing I could have done. 

When I was little she had this astrology book that gave a personality analysis based on birth day.  My assignment was “Day of the Curveball,” meaning I never do what I’m supposed to, I always do things my own way, and no matter what I’m going to catch you off guard with it.  She referenced this book endlessly through my growing up, because it was pretty accurate.  I was always rather difficult.  I mentioned it to her, saying that God really designed me to catch her off guard, and it got a laugh out of her. 

She reassures me that she loves me.  She wants me to change my name from Joseph to Johann.  I’m not going to.  I’ve found a name that fits. 

She tried putting Christmas back into my hands, but was rather relieved when I said it was best that I not come home yet.  They’re not ready yet, and I don’t want to be in a place that’s gonna make this all harder for everyone.  Kinda pisses me off that she shifted the responsibility of coming home for Christmas back onto me, after telling me not to come home and that they could not bear to look at me.  Shitty thing to tell a person, but I’m not really in a position to be hurt over it.  At least not verbally so. 

Things are unfolding to be not so bad.  They still love me, and they’re still talking to me.  The bar is rather low.  I listen to other trans people’s stories, about how hurt they are when their families won’t use their names or pronouns or proper words, and that hurt is entirely valid and real, I’m not taking that away from anyone.  It’s just, the reality of my parents making any of those changes for me is pretty improbable.  I don’t know how long it’s going to take.  They might not ever come around. 

She asked what I wanted for Christmas, and I said that if she sends a card I want her to refer to me as her son in it.  You’d think I asked her to kill baby Jesus himself with the response I got.  

In reflection, I’m content with the way I told them.  There was no good way to tell them, and there was no possible good response on their end.  It is what it is, and I’ve spoken my peace.  I’m also glad with how I’ve gone about the whole thing-- waiting until I was older, doing it independently, putting that distance in place.  It makes it easier to do this maturely and gracefully when I’m not still tied to the apron strings.  The parental rejection has made me feel a hell of a lot like a child, but I’m glad to be able to do this without resorting to that fiery teenage temper.  They need to know that this is an adult decision coming from their adult child, and there’s nothing they can do to change it.  

I’m glad I waited until I was several months in to transitioning before telling them too, so they couldn’t think they could change my mind.  

She didn’t even try and change my mind, which proves how well she knows me, honestly.  She raised one hard-headed bastard.  She knows this. 

Love you, mom.  And sorry.

[eisforeidolon]

Episode: Peace of Mind

Hey, remember how Castiel can reach into people's chests and grope their souls?  No?  Not even a mention of why it can’t possibly work on nephilim?  Oh, okay, let's just let the ridiculously overpowered and possibly soulless Winchester-wannabe wander around in limbo about having a soul despite a canonical way to check.  Why the fuck not?  

Also, expecting me to give a fuck about Sam mourning some nobodies from AU world who didn't even have names except the joke that was Maggie just shows what absolute emotional dunces the current writers are.  You never showed us any relationship there beyond, at best, being Sam's interchangeable flunkies!  Jared can act his little heart out trying to sell this (and he did), but I have more emotional investment in the loss of that lamp Dean broke that one time.

But anyway, Sam’s trauma over a bunch of cardboard is the excuse for him wanting to be anywhere but the bunker this week, and some bullshit nonsense conversation between Cas and Dean is why Sam goes off with Cas instead of Dean.  Because the show needs more of Castiel's tryhard motivational speeches, apparently.  I kind of feel like maybe this episode started out with Sam and Dean on the case and then got changed partway through?  There are a few of the jokes that are pretty clearly Castiel jokes – like when everything comes to a standstill in the diner over him loudly saying something appalling and stiltedly talking about the content of the love letters.  However, a few of them, like the pop culture reference, seem far more like things Dean would say and just make it feel kind of blatant how badly Cas has been transposed in for reasons.  

Reasons possibly being the writers suspected some of us might fast-forward through a Castiel & Jack B plot?  Except Castiel spending more time with Jack and being shown as more attached to him would better serve the story they're actually going to tell later this season.  That would apparently overflow the quota Dabb apparently set for continuous minutes Dean and Sam can interact, though, so.  I wonder if, since his major change after Carver (besides everything getting worse) is less brother-fighting he thinks the Winchesters should spend no time together if there can't be potential world-ending dramaz?  Yes, stories do need conflict but that's not what that means. 

Look, Dean's actually my favorite, but I feel like nothing of value would be lost if we cut basically everything from this episode with him and Jack.  No knock against Jensen or Alex, but the dumb stilted conversation about snakes and bacon?  The ridiculous use of Yellow Fever in the previouslies when he was literally under a fear-inducing supernatural affliction to justify making Dean afraid of snakes now because ha fucking ha?  The angel food/devil food thing - somebody actually wrote that and thought it wasn't so deeply embarrassing they should change their name and move to Alaska to never write fiction again!

Even the whole thing with Donatello (which I have a sneaking suspicion is the only reason they bothered to bring him back) is kind of dumb.  Remember how Donatello is the exception and not the rule when it comes to soullessness?  How all those other people went bugfuck when their souls were taken by Abaddon or Amara (this show really really believes in recycling).  Even putting that aside, Donatello is soulless, which at best, means completely not giving a fuck - so he’s the guy you go to for advice?  Not even to mention how absolutely tryhard the whole What Would (the) Winchesters Do WWWD thing was.  Ew.  The final cap on it being that I am really fucking tired of every latest potential threat being OMG TEH MOST POWAHFUL IN TEH UNIVERSE!!!  Suddenly Jack's a potential antagonist again so we're back to it being him instead of Michael instead of Lucifer instead of Amara instead of Rowena instead of …[loud snoring].

I did actually appreciate that for once it was Sam in the weird goofy costume episode playing up the 50's camp.  Those kinds of obvious gags pretty much always go to Dean, and I do like it when they at least switch things around so it's not just variation 100 on the same old theme.  Also Castiel commenting in his typical matter-of-fact about Sam's beautiful hair did make me laugh a little.

Seems pretty typical Cas mistakes the daughter as the one doing the brain exploding because he misses what a human cue it was she was trying to get him out of the town to save him instead of trying to keep him there if she was crazy enough to be running not!Pleasantville.  As a case, I think this part of the episode works okay.  Not the best ever, not the worst ever, and Jared clearly had fun with the playacting  of Sam being brainwashed into 50s husband dude.

Not entirely thrilled by some random guy developing the power to control a whole town with his brain out of nowhere midway through his life (as well as literally throw people and angels).  Most of the other characters we've seen with that kind of power got it from somewhere. Though I'll grant that we didn't exactly get the dude's entire pedigree and it seems like his daughter inherited some serious power, too, so maybe he just didn't know there's psychic monster in his family tree.  

Really the thing that doesn't work for me in this episode with the Sam & Cas plot is less any of the individual bits and more how clearly it is what the writers were trying – and for me, ultimately failing – to do. In the early seasons with better writers, they did a lot of episodes like this where what happens in the MotW plotline illuminates what's going on with the characters in the larger story and they were really trying to do that with Sam here.  But the literal amnesia and Cas' big speeches and some dude brainwashing a whole town to avoid his personal sad and another instance of a character having a variant of AKF shoved awkwardly into their mouth hole?  The kind of character work they were trying to do is not well served by just dropping anvils on the audiences' heads.  

The part with Dean and Sam at the end was actually fairly enjoyable – of course Castiel tattled and of course Dean takes the opportunity for teasing.  If we've seen this same realization about how you can't outrun things in your head a million times already, well, with the Winchester's lives I honestly can't blame them for still hoping that somehow it will work this time.

Then the episode ends with Castiel witnessing the snake incident and keeping it to himself because he's  somehow hardwired to make the wrong decision in literally every possible circumstance these days. Yay.

[zacharybosch]

Playing God - chapter 8 (final)

thank you all who read along with this fic, i hope you enjoy this final installment! don’t forget you can find me over on twitter and pillowfort as i’ve largely abandoned this tumblr due to the whole banning-certain-content-that-i’m-afraid-to-directly-specify-in-case-this-post-gets-flagged thing

chapter 1: tumblr / ao3

chapter 2: tumblr / ao3

chapter 3: tumblr / ao3

chapter 4: tumblr / ao3

chapter 5: tumblr / ao3

chapter 6: tumblr / ao3

chapter 7: tumblr / ao3

read chapter 8 of Playing God below or on ao3!

Bleary-eyed, Jack snatched up the phone from its place on his nightstand. It had been a long time since the taunting Miriam phone calls, but when his phone started blaring at three in the morning, it was difficult not to let the dread creep in.

“Hello?”

“Jack, it’s uh… It’s me.”

“Will. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. In fact, I think everything is right now. I got you what you wanted. But it, heh, it came at a price. I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“Where are you? Are you with Lecter? Talk to me.”

“Am I with him? Oh, it’s a bit soon to say, I should think. Give it about twenty-four to thirty-six hours and you can see what he has to say about it.”

“Will,” Jack ground out. “What. Is going. On.”

“Nothing, not now. It all kicked off earlier, Jack, and you missed the party. Well, it wasn’t really a party. You can’t use the word ‘party’ in a house like this. It was a… soirée? Is that a word he’d use? A gathering? An intimate dinner for two? Someone certainly got ate. And I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t me.”

Jack felt the pit of his stomach drop as sickening realisation dawned. “What have you done?”

“A few things you wanted me to do. A few things you didn’t.” Will sighed expansively. “I suppose I made a few bad choices. Don’t come looking, Jack. You’re not gonna find what you wanted.”

The line went dead, and Jack bolted from his bed.

It took him an hour to get to Hannibal’s house. Jack knew in his bones that he was too late, that he had been too late the moment Will had disconnected the call.

The front door to Hannibal’s house stood slightly ajar, a thin shaft of light spilling out onto the stone steps. Inside, there was a spray of blood across the marble floor of the foyer, more on the walls, and a dragging trail of it leading through to the dining room.

“Will!” Jack called, though he knew it was as useless as the gun in his hand. A chill breeze followed him as he made his way across the foyer and into the dining room, footsteps echoing with a startling loudness in the cavern of the house. The dining room looked remarkably the same as it always had, save for the dark trail of blood that swept the length of the room and continued into the kitchen.

The trail ended at the wooden butcher’s block, which was so saturated with blood as to look almost black. A square of cloth that was very likely one of Hannibal’s pocket squares was on the floor, slowly becoming drenched.

The lights were all burning brightly, and in the oven a joint of meat was slowly turning tough and black.

And in the kitchen sink, an ear.

***

In the bowels of the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit, Jack stood in his office, agitated and impatient, waving a hand in Bev’s general direction. “I know what it says, I’ve read the damn thing ten times already. Just tell me, in your professional opinion: could they have survived?”

Bev screwed up her mouth and scanned the papers before her. She knew the answer already. “Will? Maybe. There was plenty of his blood at the scene. A human probably couldn’t survive it, but if what you’re telling me about him is true…”

“It is.”

“Then I guess it’s possible? I don’t know how,” Bev chewed on the next word before spitting it distastefully out of her mouth, “vampire physiology works.”

“And what about Lecter?”

“No way. There was almost too much of his blood. No-one could survive that. Coupled with the ear, well. Who knows where the rest of his parts are, but I wouldn’t count on them all being joined together.” Bev dropped the report onto the desk with a too-hard thud and began to pace about the room. “I don’t get it though. If Will is a-- you know. If it’s all true, then shouldn’t he have drunk it all? Why leave so much good blood to go to waste?”

Jack grimaced. “It’s recently been brought to my attention that I know considerably less than I thought I did about what Will Graham should or shouldn’t have been doing.”

“You thought you could cover him. It’s not your fault that you believed in the best of him.”

“I chose to believe he was just like you or me, and that choice cost us our only chance at putting the Chesapeake Ripper behind bars. He got the easy way out. Death is too good for someone like that.” Jack sat down heavily in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. “Go home, Beverly. Hannibal Lecter is dead and you’re free to leave.”

***

The underground parking garage at Quantico was a sea of concrete as far as the eye could see, stained and cracked and always entirely mundane, until now. Walking from the elevator to Miriam’s car, Bev couldn’t help but think of all the times she’d come down here with Will, just two normal colleagues heading to their cars after a long day at the office. Had he been staring at her neck the whole time, waiting for the opportune moment to take her and bite her and leave her dead behind a pillar? And why did he even have a car in the first place? Couldn’t he turn into a bat and just… fly home?

Miriam was saying something and it was echoing off the walls and feeding back into Bev’s ears two, three, four times over. The secure unit she’d been living in for the past few months had always been so deathly quiet. Now every footstep sounded like a gunshot.

The first thing Bev did when she got into Miriam’s car was turn off the radio.

“You read my report, right?” Miriam asked, as she fired up the car and began the long drive home. Bev twisted her mouth around and said nothing. “I know you’re not officially allowed to, but I also know that Jack would’ve shown you anyway. What did you think?”

Bev sighed. She loved Miriam, she really did, but Miriam could never just let things lie for a while. Bev just wanted to go home and make her own food and sleep in her own bed and not think about anything for a few days. Or months. “I think it’s… unbelievable. I’m not sure if I mean that in a good way or not. How was this-- how was he working with me all this time and I never knew what he was?”

“You know I would’ve told you if I could.”

“I know, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at-- I don’t know what I’m mad at. I liked Will. He was a bit weird, but it didn’t bother me. It was bad enough discovering that Hannibal just wanted to eat me. Now it turns out Will probably just wanted to eat me too? What am I meant to do with this?”

“I don’t think Will ever wanted to eat you. We did feed him regularly.”

“Please spare me the details. I hate the thought of him being free to roam and I hate the thought of him being held captive by you.” Bev sank down further into her seat and put a hand over her eyes. “I hate thinking at all right now.”

Miriam let the conversation drop, and focused silently on the pinprick tail lights blurring in the rain on the road ahead. Bev seemed to be dozing off in the passenger seat, but some minutes later she asked, “How much of Jack’s plan were you aware of? Were you in on it from the start?”

Miriam hesitated for a second before she answered. “I helped him develop it. And I was involved throughout.”

“Jesus.”

“I was going to make it work for us, you know. I had another plan, a better one. I was going to get us all a happy ending. Will was going to kill Hannibal, and then he was going to wipe him from our memories so we could get on with our fucking lives and not have to think about him anymore.”

Bev stared across the car in horror. “He can do that?! Were you even going to ask me before you sent him to scramble my brains? No, of course you weren’t. This whole goddamn mess… You and Jack never could just leave well enough alone, could you? No wonder he took such a shine to you all those years ago. Two peas in a fucking pod.”

“Bev, please, I just want what’s best--”

“Well maybe I want my fucking trauma, Miriam! Shit, you’re as bad as they are. Can’t resist playing God.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I just wanted a clean break for us, you know? I’ve felt Hannibal’s shadow at my back for too long. I didn’t want you feeling it too. We deserve more than that.”

“Well I’m pretty sure he’s dead now. So. I guess you got half of what you wanted,” Bev said, and when Miriam didn’t respond she looked at over at her, at Miriam’s grim profile and the heavy silence that was spilling every secret that she was trying to keep. “Oh just spit it out already. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t think Hannibal is dead.”

---------

is that the end???????? but how can i leave it there???? SURPRISE i’m NOT, there is gonna be a sequel! it’s all written, posting will start in a few weeks after i finish up the edits! stay tuned!!

[goodfemalecharacters]

14x17 Coda: Truth or Dare

1k.  Sam and Dean talk about the fight with Nick (inspired by @katsidhe‘s post here), while Anael wheedles Cas about Destiel.

Dean can’t seem to keep his hands from shaking, so he grips the steering wheel tighter, sets his jaw, and tries to keep his gaze from flicking over to Sam every few seconds.  Even with all the miraculous healings Dean has seen over the years, he still can’t quite convince himself that the same Sam that had been convulsing in the snow, unable to so much as count to three, is sitting beside him, unharmed.

He’d let Jack zap back to Mom, just in case Nick had a spell that would resurrect him sewn into his back or something—it’s not like they haven’t seen that before—but not without strict orders to stay there and wait.  He doesn’t want the kid using more of his powers than he has to.  Not until they figure this out.

Of course, he knows a thing or two about rebellious teenagers, so that’s probably a lost cause.  Dean pushes down on the gas pedal.

“He shouldn’t have had to heal me.”

Dean’s foot nearly slips off the pedal. “What, and let you hemorrhage while some backwater ambulance took its sweet-ass time?  Come on, Sam.”

It’s not like Sam to start these kinds of conversations when other people are around.  He glances up in the rearview mirror at Donatello in the back seat.  Sure enough, he’s asleep.  One of these days, Dean is gonna have to grill this guy on how he deals with trauma.  It’s like everything just slips right off him.

Sam shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, out of the corner of Dean’s eye. “Nick isn’t exactly a trained warrior.”

“Wasn’t,” Dean corrects, automatic.

And thank God for the past tense on that one.  It’s about time Nick and all the Lucifer-related crap he kept digging up was behind them.  Behind Sam.

Sam makes the face that he usually makes when Dean’s translation of a sentence out of one of the lore books doesn’t quite match the rest of a passage.  Because of course he does, because he thinks there’s an epilogue.  To be fair, there usually is.

Well, not this time.  Not if Dean can help it.

“He sounded—” Sam pauses, clears his throat.  It doesn’t help much. “Nick sounded just like him.”

Dean isn’t exactly an expert on Lucifer’s speech.  He’s only heard the guy a few times, after all, and it wasn’t like he was paying a whole lot of attention to the patterns.  He’d always been a tad bit more concerned with the are we gonna die? part.  To him, Nick sounds just like the rest of the psychos that you meet on this job.  Like someone who just watched a documentary on Ted Bundy.

“Sam.”

Usually, that’s enough to snap Sam out of it.  But he’s miles away, his gaze drifting somewhere out the window.

“He let me fight back, sometimes.”

The few cheese curls he’d eaten before today had gone directly in the toilet churn in Dean’s stomach.  Maybe it’s a good thing he never got his hands on the meat lovers’ pizza.

“Never for long.” Sam shakes his head, mouth twisted. “Never for long.”

Dean wishes to God that he couldn’t imagine the scene with frightening clarity.  A blink and a miniscule shake of his head aren’t enough to wipe it away.

“I had him,” Sam continues. “And I hesitated.”

Dean shakes his head again. “I should have let you at him.”

It’s never easy for Dean to admit that he’s wrong.  A childhood where a misstep had meant CPS knocking at the door or a Shtriga knocking it down instilled the need to be right.  The consequences were too high for anything else.

“Yeah, maybe.”

In the rearview mirror, Donatello’s eyes flicker open.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Is it true?”

Anael holds a diamond necklace up to her throat.  They’re fake diamonds, Castiel can see, because the molecules aren’t lined up correctly.  Cas sets down the stuffed squirrel he’s been examining—this is God they’re talking about, after all, so nothing is too weird—and picks up an old cuckoo clock.

“Is what true?”

He’s forgotten these last few years just how cryptic angels can be sometimes.  They make Sam and Dean look like the straightest talkers in the world.

Anael’s grin is almost flirtatious.  Or teasing, maybe.  It’s strange. “Your thing with the older one.”

Cas chokes, and it has nothing to do with the plume of dust that comes off of the stack of old knitted sweaters he’s just pulled off of the shelf.  He holds them up one by one, not deigning to answer.

“I mean, no judgement from me,” Anael continues, breezey.  

She’s sitting on one of the antique chairs now.  Cas thinks that she hasn’t looked seriously at the last ten objects she examined, which means he needs to comb back through them.

“He’s a hot mess—I mean, I don’t want Michael’s leftovers—but you can really put an emphasis on hot.”

Now she’s just trying to get a rise out of him.  Cas wonders absently if this is what it would be like to have siblings like Sam and Dean are siblings, not siblings in the angelic sense.  Based on Dean’s movie night picks, it seems like all they do is rib each other like this.

“Are you going to help or not?”

Anael puts her hands in the air. “Just trying to get some of the gossip.  Being cut off from angel radio has been—”

“Lonely?” Cas suggests.

“New.”

Anael straightens her hair in a gold-framed mirror before she lifts a birdhouse to eye height to peer in the little hole.

“It wasn’t all business.  You remember, don’t you?”

He hasn’t thought about those days in a long time.  Even though the last ten years—has it really only been that long?—are only a tiny blip in his long, long life, it’s hard to imagine the way it was before.

“I remember.”

His garrison had been like a family, once.  A large, somewhat distant family, but a family nonetheless.  Angel radio hadn’t been quite unlike the dinner conversation between the Winchesters.

Anael puts down the birdhouse, unsatisfied, and moves on to a pile of umbrellas with strangely shaped handles.  One is a snake, another a flamingo.

“For old times’ sake, then.  Indulge me.  I’m bored.”

Cas sighs. “You used to endlessly push a button.”

Anael’s eyes flash at the reminder. “I didn’t like that much, either.”

She flops down in the chair again, one leg crossed over the other and arms placed delicately on the spindly armrests.  Cas suspects that she’s not going to be much help for a while.

“It’s not a thing,” he says at last.

She leans forward, resting her chin on her palm and her elbow on her knee. “Thing-adjacent?”

He’s not even sure they’re talking about the same thing anymore.

“Dean Winchester is my best friend,” Cas tries.  

He tries in vain to ignore the way the words stick in his throat.

Anael almost doubles over in laughter at that.  “What are you, a middle schooler?”

Cas picks up the flamingo umbrella and turns it over in his hands, trying to ignore the snork-filled laugh going on behind him. “You’re the one playing truth or dare.”

“Castiel,” she says, wiping her eyes, “you are the strangest angel I’ve ever met.”

“He is,” Cas insists.

She shakes her head and gets up. “Fine.  Don’t tell me.”

As she resumes picking through a pile of bracelets that Cas would bet were fifty percent cursed, he wonders to himself just how much she heard over angel radio.

(ao3)

[orionsangel86]

Season 14 Wishlist

Alrighty then! As per the last few season’s, each autumn before the season premier I will write a wishlist of things that hopefully will happen in the coming season, which I will then go through once the season is over.

For those of you curious:

Here is my wishlist for season 12 and here is my season 12 wishlist review

Here is my wishlist for season 13 and here is my season 13 wishlist review

Now as a slight disclaimer I need to stress that this isn’t meta, or me promising anything to happen (since I’m not a showrunner nor psychic) and is purely meant for fun - having said that most of the items on my wishlist are at least somewhat realistic wishes and within the realms (at least in my opinion) of actually happening.

So without further rambling here we go:

A decent arc for Michael!Dean. Yes, we all expect it to only last 3 episodes. which I find deeply disappointing. I would prefer if things are not as they seem and it turns out to last far longer than that.

Scenes inside Dean’s head. Like we got with both Cas and Sam when they were possessed, I really want to know where Michael has got Dean stashed away inside his head - and exactly what kind of experience that is for him. I can think of a whole bunch of different ways that could go - will Michael put Dean through hell? Or will he distract him the way of the Djinn with his idea of heaven? I am extremely excited by this idea and hope they don’t pass on the potential.

The missing scene from 13x23 when Dean said yes to Michael. There was definitely more to that and I hope so much we will see it - though I don’t think this is particularly likely.

Cas’s grief. Obviously. Last year I was all about Dean’s grief arc. This year, I need Cas’s to be just as bad. This is 10 years since the original story. Stopping Michael and changing allegiance to stand with Dean was Cas’s origin story - Remember how he reacted in season 5 when Dean was thinking about saying yes to Michael? Oh ho ho I can’t even begin to imagine how this will affect Cas. I want this to be a mirror of last year, and far worse than season 10. 

Sam’s continued leadership role. Now where I want to see Cas absolutely broken with grief over Dean’s possession, what I think would compliment it perfectly is Sam’s fearsome determination and functional leadership. It would be a great way to show how far the brothers have come to breaking the toxic codependency which has bound them to each other - that Sam is capable of functioning without Dean and without immediately trying to sell his soul or give his life for his brother. 

Sam and Cas working together. One of the things that I really hated about the start of season 10, was that without Dean around, Sam and Cas’s relationship just fell apart, and Sam was made to look pretty much like a douche by the show implying he had kicked Cas out of the bunker and blamed him for breaking his shoulder?!? (I found the whole thing very out of character for Sam but then destiel’s continued refusal to become canon tends to make Sam look occasionally douchey - but that is a meta for another day). Give me Sam and Cas as a team. Supporting each other in their grief and acting like the brothers (in-law) that they are.

Jack and Cas father/son bonding time - I mean I saw the promo and it looks like Jack is gonna be grounded for a little while... >.> but once he has written 100 lines of “I will not suggest killing my dad in front of my father” I think Cas will forgive him. I’d like to see Cas trying to teach Jack human things or mundane tasks with Dean watching them with a fond expression!

Addressing Dean’s abuse trauma - this one has been going around on tumblr recently so I’m latching on to other wonderful meta a bit here, but since last season explored Sam’s Lucifer trauma (and to an extent Cas’s Naomi trauma), it would be fitting if this Michael!Dean arc is followed up with an arc of recovery for Dean, not just from Michael, but from everything he has suffered since the apocalypse.

More seeing “behind the mask” with Dean. I think he has already massively grown into himself and out of his fathers shadow, but I’d just like more examples like with the chick flicks and the cucumber water.

Cas truly breaking free from heaven. Now I think that the ideal situation would be that Cas is the one to fix heaven, and that he leaves the angels by choice, and with them all respecting him and being thankful to him. But Cas needs to start to break free from that duty and obligation that he still feels to heaven. Even in season 13 he carried that guilt, and whilst this is more endgame stuff, I desperately want to see more progress on this. 

More hints towards Cas desiring human things and human feelings and basically desiring humanity for himself (no jokes guys, this time I DON’T mean Dean). I am a staunch human!Cas endgame girl after all. The show spent a lot of time in season 9 and 10 building on this for Cas and then it went a bit quiet. I’d like to see those threads picked up again.

In fact, when it comes to Cas, how about he starts answering some of those hundreds of unanswered questions that have been thrown at him since Carver era? How about he finds his place, where he belongs and AS WHAT in general? Cas, you have a home now and a family. Stop lingering in doorways. 

Sam showing us more of his personality. I think now that his Lucifer trauma has been somewhat addressed, Sam should be a bit lighter and more carefree. I’d like to know some more about him other than his obsession with serial killers which is frankly a worrying hobby Sam!

Mary and Cas bonding - in fact I just want to see all of the rest of Dean’s family bonding with Cas more. I want more knowing looks from Mary and even a conversation about the topic - oh wouldn’t that be a dream!

Dean coming out of the closet. Yes yes I know I know. Every year... But it is 20gayteen and next year is 20BITEEN and dammit the world is full of rainbows right now - Bert and Ernie made it official... Why can’t Dean Winchester? I’m totally cool with someone slipping THIS to Dabb. I won’t even ask for credit. ;)

Last year I wanted Sam to build on his relationships outside of Dean and we did pretty well last year with that. But of course, I want more. Maybe some Sam x Rowena? I’m game. 

On that note WITCH!SAM. I am still a huge lover of Sam practicing magick. It’s a story line with so much potential.

More badass ladies kicking ass. Aww man we were kinda blessed with this last year weren’t we? Keep it up show. Please keep it up.

Billie continuing to play a large role as Death. I find her captivating and want more.

Wayward Sisters returning. It still hurts, but we need to know what happens next.

JODY AND CAS NEED TO MEET GODDAMMIT. Also I want Cas to reunite with Claire again.

As per last year: The return of the mixtape. BRING BACK THE MIXTAPE (yup I’m gonna wish for it until I get it).

Please dress Cas up. The closest we got last year was the cowboy hat and the dreadful nazi uniform of AU Cas. Why can’t we have him in plaid? PLEASE.

Absolutely no Lucifer, Lucifer vessel or any hint of Mark Pellegrino. Plus no Kentucky fried chicken pantomime villains either. I’ll be happy if season 14 is free from this nonsense.

Saving the best for last, what do I always wish for above all else? You guessed it - DESTIEL. Do I want it to be canon? Well yes eventually of course. But in season 14 my wish is for their story to continue as it did in early season 13. More obvious destiel content, more of destiel built into the narrative and ideally, made explicit. A love confession? Even if only to a third party? That is undeniably romantic. Zero “no homo’s” would be nice. I just wish for further development on the destiel narrative. That is all. 

As always feel free to add to this with your own wishes! 

BRING ON SEASON 14!! :D