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leaslichoma · 6 months

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I've been fascinated with the Aztec god Xolotl recently.

Xolotl (pronunced Sho-lo-t followed by an L like sound that doesn't exist in the English language) was a Mesoamerican god associated with many things, including fire, lightning, disease, deformity, twins, the Mesoamerican ball game, death, dogs, the planet Venus as the evening star, twilight, shapeshifting, and monsters. Xolotl was the twin and sometimes companion of his more famous brother Quetzalcoatl. Xolotl was thought to guide the dead in their journey through the underworld, and to guide the sun through the underworld each night. Xolotl is usually depicted as either a dog anthro, a man with a dog head, or a dwarf skeletal jester. Xolotl is usually depicted missing eyes. Xolotl seems to have been feared by the Aztecs and especially hated by the Spanish, but I have a more favorable view.

Some of the most prominent myths about Xolotl involve the story of the fifth sun, or how the current world was made from the previous, destroyed one.

The first myth involves the recreation of humanity. The tales differ as to whether Quetzalcoatl was responsible, Xolotl was responsible, or if it was a collaborative effort. The humans of the fourth world were destroyed, and humanity had to be brought back. To this end Xolotl and/or Quetzalcoatl traveled to the Aztec underworld, Mictlan and met with its king, Mictlantecutli. The god(s) asked to gather the bones of the previous humans so they could be created anew. Mictlantecutli. Mictlantecutli gives them tests but later decides against letting them gather the bones. Xolotl and/or Quetzalcoatl fall into pit, breaking the bones in the process which is why people have different heights. The bones are later resurrected. The versions of this tale differ as to which god went to Mictlan and whether they did tests for Mictlantecutli or simply stole the bones.

In the second myth, the gods are sacrificing themselves in a fire to create a fifth sun for humanity because the previous one went out. They choose Nanahuatzin, a poor and humble god with syphilis and some relation to Xolotl to become the moon; and Tecciztecatl to become the sun because he is wealthy and strong. However, Tecciztecatl is unable to throw himself in the fire when the time comes, so Nanahuatzin becomes the sun instead. Tecciztecatl is sacrificed after and becomes the moon (and also the man on the moon), but has a rabbit thrown at his face which is one explanation for the rabbit people sometimes see.

Later, Xolotl is the last to be sacrificed to the new sun. In some versions this is because he was the executioner for the previous gods. However, in some tales he refuses to sacrifice himself. Xolotl begs and cries until his eyes literally fall out but this does nothing. Xolotl transforms to escape Ehecatl who has been executing other gods to make the sun move. Xolotl at first transforms into a corn plant with two stalks, then an Agave americana, and finally an Axolotl amphibian. But he was still caught in the end.

What I find most interesting about Xolotl is his relation to disability. Since deformities are among Xolotl's best known domains, he could be considered a god of disabilities as well. Xolotl is also a god of monsters, and it's worth mentioning that the Nahua word "Xolo" which his name is derived from and means monster, is used for both mythological monsters and those with physical abnormalities, much like the Latin word "Monstrum". (I think in literature analysis the themes of monsters as outcasts could be explored more) In many, perhaps even most historical (and unfortunately even modern) societies the attitude towards those with disabilities has been very negative. In the Aztec world twins were considered unnatural, and sometimes one of them would be murdered shortly after birth. Wikipedia mentions an speculation by Eduard Seler that resonates with me: that Xolotl represents the murdered twin who dwells in the underworld while Quetzalcoatl is the living one who is cherished in the world of light.

Another connection with Xolotl and disability is that he was sometimes depicted as a jester with dwarfism. It's relevant the jesters around the world were often disabled. European court jesters were known for having the freedom to criticize and mock royalty, and were sometimes selected from the intellectually disabled because they could not be held responsible for what they said. Additionally, the Spanish during the colonization of the Aztecs sent some Aztec jesters to Spain, who were described as humpbacks.

This is what I find most interesting about Xolotl, that he is a reflection or shadow of society. Historically Xolotl was often considered a sinister god, but when society is itself sinister who is to be believed? My view of Xolotl is more favorable. The god of the disabled is feared because the disabled are hated. Xolotl is the outcast, who is hated and feared yet has done no wrong. Xolotl is the murdered twin, who looks upon the world of light and life, from a place of darkness, the world he was not given, never had the right to enjoy. He is the god who is looked upon with disgust due to his role in hardship, yet is the only one who stays with you through that hardship the entire time. Xolotl is the disabled child, who is called a child of shame and hidden away in some institution to be forgotten by their more privileged relatives. Xolotl is viewed with contempt, but his domains are just as necessary to the universe's function as any of the more handsome gods. The janitor, who is viewed with contempt and disgust yet whose works are vital for society.

The "evil twin" Xolotl, misunderstood twin and hound of Quetzalcoatl who lives in the world's shadow, watching the world of life and guarding the light of the sun through the underworld.

#LONG POST #xolotl #aztecs #aztec mythology #aztec religion #aztec gods #mexica mythology #mesoamerica #ableism cw #cw ableism #ableism tw #ableism mention #infanticide mention #filicide mention #mesoamerican mythology #infodump #infodumping

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virovac · 1 year

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We all enjoy crushing sexual fantasies

Don’t deny it. You laugh seeing them get deconstructed and ruined in media a lot of times

Because dying of poison...rarely sexy.

So I’m envisioning a femme fatale assassin type trying to darkly flirt with an ally and just getting the response:

“My mother poisoned my siblings and father and I was the only one to survive.”

...this turned into laughing at poor assassin babe trying to be dangerous and sexual

#poison mention #murder mention #filicide mention

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blackholemojis · 2 months

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I really really like your disability symbols, they are so thoughtful and un-stereotyped. I'd really appreciate a symbol for autism, dyspraxia, and/or C-PTSD at some point (not said with intent to pressure). ("upsetting" topic ahead) I'd also be interested in how you might represent child abuse or even filicide. Those are things I haven't been able to work out how to represent, but I speak about them a lot and use AAC.

Thank you so much! That means a lot to me, genuinely, that’s exactly what i’ve been going for. You can find your requested emojis here, plus an extra one for PTSD since I thought I’d put them together :)

For the second part, I’d use metaphors instead of graphic depiction of different things (maybe mistreatment of a plant growing on a person’s head?). I know that graphic depiction can make it easier to tell what the subject is, but I also want to try to cover subjects without making them triggering

If someone commissioned me or asked specifically for emojis that don’t use metaphors, then I would probably agree since people deserve to be able to talk about dark and serious things (and that’s important!). I don’t want to trigger people, but I also don’t want to make it seem like those topics aren’t about real, harmful things

If you want to send another ask requesting emojis for different dark topics, feel free! I can try my best and see what I can do!

#asks #blackholemojis talks #abuse tw #abuse discussion #murder tw #murder mention #filicide tw #murder discussion #child abuse tw #child abuse discussion

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horizon-penblade · 1 year

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What is it with minecraft roleplay fathers killing their children

#Like weve got philza (admittedly that one was an assisted suicide)#Etho in limited life #Oli during the crossover apparently #and whatever the heck is going on with qsmp. Do i even want to know.#tw killing #tw suicide mention #tw filicide #I guess #mcyt #mcytblr

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catilinas · 2 years

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also a Wacky Take is saying lucius junius brutus is famous for the filicide thing more than ending the monarchy??? maybe it’s not fashionable to say Tyrants Bad Etc when you are writing in domitian times but you could just. skip brutus. just don’t mention him in your poem. like yes he is being cool in the underworld in the aeneid and pharsalia but that’s for res publica reasons! it is less awkward to just not mention him than to mention him and Not the republic and then say also he’s sexy because he executed his sons???

#like ok the Savage Axe could maybe mean the axe in the fasces -> Brutus As First Consul #BUT the axes were only included in some contexts and Law Abiding Brutus Being Consul Inside The Pomerium is not one of them!!! duff doesn’t #even consider that the axes could be that bcs it’s so blatantly abt the filicide. but also it’s WEIRD #(not thinking that it’s good. like livy does that too thr weird bit is Only mentioning that!!!)#punica #trans. j.d. duff. as always #beeps

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somnidoptera · 2 years

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Whelan destroyed Cody’s ability to trust people quickly. Specifically, adults trying to be parental. It doesn’t mean he can’t eventually trust someone, or that he doesn’t like them, it’s just very, very hard to win his full trust.

With how fast Cody went from “Mrs. Hobson” to “Jessie” to “Mom,” it’s safe to assume that he at some point called Whelan “Dad” and had been calling him that for quite some time, given that he lived with the Youngs for 15 months. And in fact, Whelan was the first person he ever even considered as a father figure, the first person he ever called “Dad.” And only, actually, because he will never call anyone that ever again.

Because of what Whelan did, coming into his room with a gun in retaliation for Cody accidentally killing his wife... well, Cody just wasn’t the same after that. That kind of betrayal and fear imprinted on him; his ability to trust shattered the second that gun went off, and it’s held together with scotch tape now.

He wants so badly for someone to love him, but every time he tries to get close to someone, there’s a nagging little voice in his head that tells him “remember that you once trusted Whelan, too.”

It carries over into his adulthood as well, makes him paranoid of any new person with kind intentions and a smile on their face. He struggles with commitment issues and forming lasting friendships.

Despite his friendliness and politeness and all his attempts to be the perfect child when he’s young, there will always be suspicion, especially towards potential parental figures, always this fear that those he loves and trusts will one day betray and hurt him. And all he can do is just hope that no one proves him right.

#it keeps them safe until they're grown up / headcanons #attempted filicide cw #death mention cw #sometimes i just think about how the vast majority of his trauma can be traced back to whelan #and whelan wasn't even necessarily a bad person. he was a good man who had something tragic happen to him and reacted poorly to it #and while yes he does think cody should die its not out of hatred for him #but rather because he believes its the only way to protect others from his wifes fate #and cody cant entirely fault him for that logic when even he blames himself for all the deaths his monsters have caused #hes terrified of whelan not just for what he did but because whelan agrees with him that it was all his fault #cody is probably the angstiest muse i have im not crying theres just something stuck in my eyes #its the inevitable tragedy of it all man AAAAAAAAAAAA-

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kdd-works · 1 year

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When will fucking vent blogs stop interacting with my vent posts

They're NOT for you to appropriate! They're for me to ask for help from the people who are willing to care for me, because my psychologist LITERALLY THINKS that me outsourcing my concerns to people on the net is the ONLY way I'll ever get help for my extremely specific mental illness needs-for-validation (and my parents won't get me another psych because "If she knew someone who could help you she would've referred you to them" or w/e)

I have to screenshot the old post and post it below because people can't keep their hands off of ONE FUCKING POST but I'm honestly getting closer to ending it because it feels like everyone in my life is actively pushing me toward ending it.

#semi long post #tw su1cide #tw self h4rm #tw s3lf harm #tw filicide #tw murder mention #tw vomiting mention #tw panic attack #DO NOT LIKE THIS POST #tw caps

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yuesya · 9 months

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geto’s reaction to shiki piloting the body is so delicious! i wonder what his later confrontation with satoru would look like? does it just emphasize his horror at satoru’s upbringing/the messed up nature of jujutsu society? or does satoru even tell the truth about shiki’s state as the vengeful spirit of his murdered twin that he’s willing cohabiting with? and if he lies the first time/hesitates, what does the truth coming out look like? (i adore this au and your writing with all my heart!!)

The first thing that Suguru does in the next morning is make a mad dash for his classmate's room.

"Oh hey, g'morning, Suguru! How are you doing this fine-"

Suguru ignores the haphazard greeting and seizes the other boy by the shoulders, carefully scrutinizing. In the light of the morning sun, Satoru's eyes are bright and crystalline. His posture, his body language, his expressions -they all seem right. There are no warning bells blaring in the back of Suguru's mind.

It's Satoru. Satoru is back.

Relief cascades into him in a veritable tide wave, and Suguru exhales slowly.

"Uh, is everything okay?"

Suguru gives his classmate the stink eye. "I should be asking you that question. What was going on last night?!"

Satoru stares at him for a long moment, unnervingly quiet. Then, the other boy sighs gustily, reaching up to run a hand messily through his hair. "Okay, yeah, I guess that's fair. I didn't think she would reel you in for a chat so soon, but that's on me. I honestly should've expected it."

Suguru folds his arms across his chest, unimpressed. "You owe me an explanation, Satoru. Cough up."

"Whatever," the white-haired teen turns back into his room, and Suguru follows. "Didn't Shiki explain it to you already? She's my little sister, and we share a body. End of the story."

That's most certainly a severe understatement, if Suguru's ever heard one. "A proper explanation, please. And you never thought to mention this to us before? Does Shoko know? ... Wait, does Yaga-sensei know about this?"

Satoru flops back onto his bed with a soft thump. "Nah, you're the only one in the school who knows. Congratulations! Please don't make a big deal out of it or try to exorcise my little sister, and we won't have any problems going forward."

Wait, exorcise? Suguru had suspected it, given the odd feeling he'd sensed while talking to Shiki last night and that distinctly unhinged personality, but... "Your sister, she's... really a cursed spirit? How did something like that even happen?"

"Through filicide, of course."

It takes a beat for the words to sink in. And with dawning horror, Suguru recalls-

Toru-nii is my brother, and we’ve coexisted with each other in this state for sixteen years.

Sixteen years. That meant-!

"Did you know that twins are considered as 'one person' in terms of jujutsu? It's considered an ill omen. Each twin is incomplete on their own, and will never realize the full extent of their abilities," Satoru's gaze rests unerringly on Suguru, carefully cataloguing his reactions. "... I was born with Six Eyes and Limitless. Shiki wasn't. So my father killed her, seven days after we were born."

Nausea churns in the pit of his stomach. There's a faint prickling on the back of his scalp, and Suguru feels lightheaded upon learning of this horrifying truth.

Satoru cracks a smile. "Wow, Shiki was right. You really are a softy, Suguru."

"How can you even smile at this?" Suguru demands. Fuck. He needs to sit down, before he falls over his own two feet. "Your family- your clan, your own father, they-?"

Satoru shrugs. "Eh, I'm mostly over it now. We took care of the perpetrators when they tried to go for round two after finding out Shiki was coexisting with me. Most of the clan just thinks I'm a murderous loose cannon now, but honestly, I'd say that's their own fault."

... At least Suguru now has a better perspective on the bloodier rumors following his classmate. Knowing Satoru, he'd always thought most of them to be unfounded, but clearly that wasn't actually the case.

Gojo Satoru. A prodigy, the miracle of the Gojo Clan. A sorcerer blessed by the gods. The one destined to carry the weight of the jujutsu world on his shoulders, and maintain the standing order.

What an honor.

(What a tragedy.)

"... Later, when Shiki wakes up," Suguru somehow finds himself saying, "Would you... let her know that I'm sorry?"

"Huh?"

Suguru sighs, "I was unnecessarily short with her last night. Because I was worried about you, mainly, but that was still rather rude of me."

Satoru tilts his head owlishly. "So you want to apologize to Shiki?"

"Why do you look so surprised by it?" Suguru shakes his head. "I trust you. If you vouch for her, then I'll take your word for it. Besides, she's your sister, and you clearly care about her. If she's always with you here, then... even without her own body, isn't she basically our fourth classmate?"

Satoru grins, "She'll be glad to hear you say that."

#QA #Writing #zenith of stars au #twins au

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christinesficrecs · 1 year

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I'm looking for stiles and Peter being sassy friends can you help? I love all your recommendations

Maybe these ones. Also, you can check the time travel fics.

Trust Fall by Stoney | 144.2K | Explicit

Great. Wait...does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit.

Help Wanted (But Not Really) by reillyblack | 26K | Mature

"Stiles, I'll clear up your confusion about the position. Derek here needs someone to live with him. He's a difficult person to live with, so I won't sugarcoat that. But his responsibilities at the company right now make it impossible for him to actually take care of himself and his home. That would be your job," Laura explained.

Both Stiles and Derek objected at the same time.

The Awkward Love Life Of A Sheltered College Werewolf by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle | 30.1K | Explicit

Derek had been used to being home schooled. Being used to be surrounded by pack, and nothing but pack. When he decides he's going to attend college, like a normal person, his family has a fit. Derek goes anyway. It's scary and new and exciting. Then he meets Stiles. Then...Things get even more exciting.

Words Cannot Espresso How Much You Bean to Me by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 68.3K

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

A Wolf's Ribbon by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 36K | Explicit

Derek had been coached on how to approach the child heir apparent while hundreds of eyes watched him. He kept his eyes focused on the cradle, leaning over the edge as best he could to see the baby everyone had been talking about.

Stiles smiled when he saw Derek, kicking his legs out as he reached a hand up for him. He cooed at Derek, his fingers grabbing at the older boy in an attempt to touch him, all to no avail. He gurgled out a laugh when Derek reached a hand down into the cradle, snatching hold of his fingers as best he could.

Derek offered a small smile in response, allowing Stiles to playfully tug on his hand.

The two children made an adorable sight before the Court and their parents. That was the moment Queen Talia and King John decided to arrange their marriage. Every second was planned out without the voiced concern of the children.

Not Quite a Séance by ash_mcj | 5.4K

“We’re in the future,” Laura realized. “Like… literally, the future.”

“There’s still no flying cars,” Stiles told her solemnly. “We do have pretty cool cell phones, though.”

“What do you mean we should be dead?” Talia asked.

“Would you like a dictionary?” Peter offered. “I’m sure we have one around here somewhere.”

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi | 156.7K | Mature | Series

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

Of Eclipses, Ley Lines, and Full Shift Werewolves by tabbytabbytabby | 26.9K

Derek has been noticing his control slipping in the days leading up to the Solar Eclipse. When he goes to look over the Hale land with Peter something happens, forcing both him and Peter to shift into full wolves. Stiles finds them, discovering that Derek has been changed into a wolf pup with none of his memories, only able to recognize people by their scent. After a talk with Deaton Stiles discovers there are ley lines in Beacon Hills, specifically on the Hale property, which caused Derek and Peter to shift. Unfortunately for them there's nothing they can do to reverse it except sit and wait. Which is easier said than done when none of the pack can understand why Derek only wants to be around Stiles.

A Clerical Mix-Up by DiscontentedWinter

Imagine all the irritation when peter/sheriff and stiles/derek having a double wedding. "Would you mister stilinski marry mister hale?" // Imagine they send the wrong Hale to the sighning because they're late.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #itsangelofdarkness #good peter hale #stiles and peter brotp

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fandom-imagines-stories · 11 months

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Watching on the News

Season Two Episode Three

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4226

Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer and Emily go undercover in a situation that quickly turns dangerous. The reader is forced to watch events unfold from back home.

Notes: I’m going to be going back and forth between moments from the actual episode and from the reader’s experience, so hopefully it won’t feel too jumpy. Also, I think I’ve decided to make the reader a criminal psychologist (or whoever does research and interviews into past crimes to help study new ones. They’ve done it on the show) but I don’t know everything about the job, so please don’t come after me for inaccuracies.

Warnings: Violence, depiction of a cult, mentions of SA (episode context), mild sexual content (just at the beginning)

For your last day in London, the two of you read A Study in Scarlet in St. James Park, thus beginning a new series for the two of you to continue back home. It would give you something to hang onto from the trip, as Spencer had said.

You couldn’t help the feeling of dread filling your chest as Spencer looked over the flight details at the desk. Your bags were packed and your tickets sat in front of Spence. It was over.

Time to go back to the wonderful world of hunting killers, interviewing psychopaths, and blood on your hands.

“Our flight is in the afternoon, so we should have plenty of time to get through security and everything,” Spencer said, eyes glued to the papers in his hand. He was all set and ready to get back, it almost made you angry.

You were not letting go of the escape so easily.

“Hey Spence.” You slipped your nightgown over your head.

“I know we had some issues last time, but this time we should be all good to go.”

You drew back the comforter, leaving only the very thin sheet covering you. “Spence.”

“We should be back in D.C. at approximately-”

“Spencer.” Your seductive tone mixed with aggressive frustration.

“What?” He turned his chair around and froze. His wide eyes started on your starkly covered body before quickly flicking up to your face.

You raised a brow. “Put the papers down, honey.”

“O-okay,” he squeaked and practically threw them aside, scrambling to join you.

This plane ride felt different from the others. Maybe it was because it was his first one back in the BAU jet, but he couldn't help but feel a slight sense of melancholy. Just two days ago, he was tangled up with you in London and now he was going to investigate a statutory rape allegation in a cult in Colorado.

Welcome back, Reid.

“You look like you’re a thousand miles away,” Prentiss teased from her seat across from him.

He gave her a small smile. “I guess my head is still on vacation a little.”

“I don’t blame you,” she laughed. “A romantic getaway, a bottle of good wine, good books, great hotel… I don’t know if I’d be able to tear myself away.”

“There was certainly some last minute celebrating,” he said, smirking.

She raised a brow. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

The two agents laughed for a moment before letting themselves focus on the case at hand.

You, safe and sound on the ground, were trying to busy yourself with catching up on files. After everything that happened, you were afraid your application for licensure would be held up, but your boss, Sonia, said that everything should be on track.

She was still skeptical of sending you out for studies and interviews and had put your specific study on hold.

Sonia thought filicide was a little too close of a topic for you, especially now. So you were stuck on expert witness duty. Since your research institute was federally funded, you also worked as a federal prosecutor’s lackey for when they wanted a defendant assessed. It wasn’t that you minded the work, but you hated court rooms. You always had. Taking the stand against your mother didn’t exactly give you a good start with the court system.

Your eyes- tired from the countless documents you’d read all morning- were saved by your buzzing phone.

“Hey, Aaron.”

Your brother laughed at your sleepy tone. “Still a little jetlagged, huh?”

“That and I’ve got court duty for the foreseeable future,” you huffed. You glowered at the sound of his relieved sigh. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”

“Being an expert witness is a very important job,” he said defensively. “And it also means I won’t have to think about you being in locked rooms with murderers, alone, any time soon, so I’m sorry if I’m a little glad.” He chuckled.

You sighed. He was right. Damnit.

“Anyway, I’m better than Spence probably is right now. We’d barely even unpacked when you gave him the assignment. Where is it again? Colorado?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“I know, but I’m nosy.”

He laughed. “He’ll be back soon.” Something about the dead air between you changed and you could feel his seriousness even before he spoke. “How are you feeling? Now that you’re back.”

“I’m fine, Aaron,” you said. “Really. I think getting away was exactly what we needed. Thank you for suggesting it and giving Spence the time off.”

“I just want to make sure that you’re adjusting okay-”

“We were gone for a week, not a decade,” you scoffed. “Seriously, there’s no adjustment. I’m fine. How about you? How are you feeling?” Two could play the game of incessant worrying. After all, you weren’t next to a car that exploded.

He sighed. “Y/N, I’m fine. I’ve been cleared to fly and the headaches have all but stopped.”

“And I’m sure that’s all because of your taking things easy, right?” You snarked. Using work to avoid your problems was a trait the two of you had perfected. Suddenly, the files in front of you seemed like a happy distraction. “Actually, I have to go. I have so many cases to look through.”

Aaron sighed. “Alright, I’ll let you go then. We should grab lunch sometime this week. You can tell me all about your trip.”

You bit the cap of your pen. “Well… not all about the trip.”

“Y/N, please,” your brother groaned.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Happy to hang up on a lighter mood, you said your goodbyes and he got back to work. You answered another call coming in. Colorado number. “Hello?”

“Hey, my phone died, but I wanted to let you know we got in okay,” the other voice said. “Oh, this is Spencer, by the way.”

You laughed. “I know what your voice sounds like, Spence.”

“What if someone was calling and imitating me to get you to trust them with your personal information?” He teased. Emily raised a brow at him and shook her head.

“I will definitely keep that in mind, Dr. Reid. Next time you call, you’d better be ready with some convincing statistics so I know it’s you.”

“Okay, um…” He thought for a moment. “American’s collectively receive around 2.4 billion spam calls a day. Which is why you should make sure it’s me.”

“Right, because you definitely sound like a robot, I get it now.”

“Hey,” he pouted. Nancy and Prentiss were both looking at him now. “Okay, I have to go. I’ll call when I can. I love you.”

“Love you too, Spence. Bye.”

Spencer handed the phone back to Nancy. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. I didn’t want her to worry.” She just smiled and nodded. He turned to Emily, who still shook her head. “What?”

She snickered. “You two are such dorks.”

The elevator couldn't move fast enough. The floor numbers ticked by, but you couldn’t hear anything over the sound over your heart.

As you stormed into the bullpen, Morgan was the first to see you. His welcoming smile was quickly replaced by concern, reading your expression.

“Turn on the TV,” you said.

JJ appeared beside you, phone at her ear and remote in her hand. The compound came onto the screen and you knew by the looks on their faces that you were right.

“Hotch!” Morgan yelled.

Aaron rushed out of his office, brows drawing together when he saw you. “Y/N, what are you-”

“Tell me that’s not him,” you cried. “Tell me they aren’t in there.”

His eyes shifted to the screen and his jaw tensed. “You can’t be here.”

“What happened? Where are they?”

“Everyone get ready to leave,” he ordered, not even looking at you anymore.

“Aaron!” You screamed. “Is Spencer okay? What is going on?”

Fiery eyes snapped back to your face. “Go. Home. Y/N.” You knew that the urgency of his voice was out of panic, not of anger, but you couldn’t move. You were frozen in place, as if your blood had been replaced by frigid, stinging ice.

You turned your head back to the TV.

“Though no one knows for sure how many people are inside,” the newscaster said, “It is believed at least three of the child service members are still trapped within the compound.”

You couldn’t hear anything after that.

Emily and Spencer were trapped- assuming they were still alive. State police had already been killed.

“Oh God,” you put a hand over your mouth to silence the cries threatening to escape. Just three days ago, he was reading Sherlock Holmes to you in the park and now he could be…

“Y/N,” JJ said softly. She put a hand on your shoulder to usher you towards the door. “Hotch is right. You need to go home so we can go figure all of this out.”

“What if they’re-” you couldn’t say it. “I was supposed to get coffee with Emily this week. Spencer and I’s anniversary is in a few weeks. We were going to- God, I sound so stupid. They’re in a gunfight and I’m worried about coffee.”

Derek joined the two of you, his go-bag in hand. “Maybe I should give you a ride home.”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be fine. You guys need to get going.”

“Y/N, you aren’t thinking straight-”

“I said I’m fine, Morgan,” you snapped. You’d never used his last name like that before. It made you sound like your brother. You turned your desperate gaze back to JJ.

She gave you a helpless attempt of a reassuring nod. “I’ll update you as much as I can, okay?” But even you knew, there wasn’t much she could say to you.

You’d never wished to be part of the team before but now, just the chance of having more information, made you yearn to be getting on that plane.

You weren’t the only one in the dark.

Reid and Prentiss stood in the tunnel amongst the women and children who didn’t understand that they’re entire way of life was coming to an end. Reid watched their faces while Prentiss kept her eyes on the men with the guns.

Nancy was dead. She was shot by one of the state police during the gunfight. Spencer caught a glimpse of Cyrus’ men carrying her body into one of the other rooms. Emily put a hand on his arm.

“We’re going to be okay.”

He frowned. “I know. They’ll start negotiations soon.” One of the men eyed him and he tried to remain as calm as possible, but not too calm. Reid and Prentiss may not have known about the raid, but now they had to convince these people that they had nothing to do with it.

The only thing keeping him together was the thought of you watching on the news. The media must have gotten a hold of the situation by now and it wouldn’t take you long to connect the dots. He wished he could just have one phone call, one word to let you know that he and Emily were okay. As long as he could hold through to get back to you, everything would turn out okay.

He didn’t want to think about what could happen if Cyrus found out who they really were.

Thou shalt not bear false witness against your neighbor. Exodus 20:16

He shouldn’t have felt relieved. A woman who reached out for their help was dead. But a wave of reluctant relief washed over the whole team when Cryus said the name Nancy Lunde.

Prentiss and Reid were alive- given that Cyrus was telling the truth.

Hotch ran a hand down his face. Rossi prepared to take in food with bugs hidden so they could listen to the group’s activity. He also planned to check and see that the women, children, and their team members were okay.

Morgan walked over. “Hotch, this is gonna be all over the news.”

“I know.”

“Y/N is going to be watching.”

The supervisory agent’s expression remained the same. “I know.”

Morgan narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think it’s a good idea to tell her anything?”

“I can’t give out information to someone who has nothing to do with this operation.”

“Nothing to do with it?” Morgan exclaimed. “You have to know this is killing her right now. Maybe we could just-”

“We cannot jeopardize this,” he said firmly. Hotch’s eyes softened as he pictured your face from this morning. “Even if it means Y/N has to wait.”

He understood Morgan’s concerns. For the past few months, you’d been trying to get control of your life back and now this? But they couldn’t break protocol, lest the wrong information fall into the wrong hands. They couldn't risk it.

Still, he couldn’t help but want to comfort that scared girl he knew was crying out somewhere inside of you.

Back in D.C. you went into work to distract yourself, but you were glued to the television in the lounge, awaiting any sort of news regarding the stand off at the compound. Sonia brought you a cup of coffee and sat on the sofa across from you.

“You look awful for someone who just came off vacation.”

You checked your watch and sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry. I haven’t done anything today. I just… I have to keep watching.”

The newscaster returned, still standing over the compound like a dog finding buried bones.

“Is that that Colorado thing?” Sonia asked.

You gulped and nodded. You listened to the journalist and felt your heart stop. Sonia put a hand on yours.

“What is it?”

“Son of a bitch,” you exclaimed, running a hand down your face.

“What?”

“This idiot just told them that there’s an FBI agent inside with them.” Hot tears pooled in your eyes, the burden of not-knowing weighing heavily in your features. Sonia made the connection.

She laid a hand on her chest. “Oh Lord.”

You stood up, body shaking from the agonizing mix of grief and rage rushing through you. Your breathing turned shallow and stinging and your hand wrapped around your throat as if you could soothe the burning cries from the outside.

If those people in the compound had access to the news, then Spencer and Emily were as good as dead. And there was nothing you could do about it.

Spencer stared at his hands. Prentiss sat across from him as they both waited. Something was wrong.

Cyrus stormed in, followed by another one of his men with a large gun. “Which one of you is it?” He asked.

They both looked at him blankly.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?”

Prentiss’ mouth fell open, her eyes darting over to Reid.

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spence asked. He hoped the nerves in his tone would sound more like fear than panic.

Cyrus’ glare honed in on the young agent’s face. “God will forgive me for what I must do.” He took the gun in his hand, cocked it, and aimed it right at Reid’s forehead.

Spence kept his body calm while his heart raced beyond comprehension. “I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“One of you does,” Cyrus said. “Who is it?”

Emily watched the thoughts behind Spencer’s eyes. Wondering what he would miss if he died now. What would happen to you? To his mom? If Cyrus killed him, what would he do to her?

She thought of you and what this would do to you- if you survived it. With the fragile state everyone knew you were in, Emily wondered how much longer you could pretend to be fine. And if something happened to Reid…

Most of all she thought of the sweet, brilliant agent staring down death in front of her. This man she’d grown to love over the years of working together.

Her friend.

She spoke without hesitation. “It’s me.”

A tense silence fell over them.

Cyrus lowered the gun. Spencer stared at her in fearful disbelief.

The cult leader grabbed her by the hair and she cried out. Without a word, Spencer was forced to watch Cyrus drag Emily out, with only her reassuring glance to say their possible goodbyes.

It was hours before he saw her again. Cyrus gathered everyone in the chapel.

Her face was bloodied and bruised and the minute he laid eyes on her, he felt every blow as if it had been dealt to him. It made every lie he told, every sympathy he faked, cut his tongue like a knife.

Emily felt his big, puppy dog eyes on her face and kept her voice level.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked.

It should have been him. He should have said something, told Cyrus that he lied and she didn’t know anything. Maybe he would have just shot him. When he was staring down that gun, all he could think was how scared he was and if he would ever see you again and what would happen to his mom.

He didn’t say anything and his friend got hurt.

Both agents could sense something was coming. Cyrus was too calm. He negotiated a surrender at noon and told the others to make sure the press was there.

This was his final stand.

Outside, the other members of the team prepared for a raid.

Aaron stood, watching the compound with a darkness hanging over him. He couldn’t help but feel the sinking claws of failure and guilt weighing into this shoulders. His team was in danger and he put them there.

The sound of Prentiss’ breaking voice repeating the same phrase would haunt him.

“I can take it.”

She reminded him of you. Your willingness to take whatever punishment life dealt you and refusing to ask for help. Emily took every punch because she wouldn’t give up on the women and children still in there.

Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron saw Dave approach him.

“I know I can’t go in there,” he sighed. His attachment to the agents inside extended beyond their professional relationships and he couldn’t let that risk the rescue.

Dave nodded. “I’m going.”

“If something happens to Prentiss or Reid, I…” He turned to the other agent. “I don’t know.”

“You’re not alone.”

Hotch held his phone in his hands, your contact pulled up. “I don’t know if I’d have the heart to tell her. She’s been through so much already and this would-”

“Well you don’t have to worry about that,” Dave assured him. “We’re going to go in there and get them back. The only phone call you’ll have to make is to tell her that Prentiss and Reid are okay.”

Hotch put his phone back in his pocket. “I hope you’re right.”

He was running out of time. Cyrus had the remote in hand. They had guns pointed at his friends outside. The women and children should be getting out now, but if he wanted any chance of surviving this, he had to try and talk the leader down. Spence did the only thing he could think of.

Use their belief.

“Jeremiah 29:11 ‘I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to bring you hope and a future,” he said. “Is blowing yourself up part of the prosperous future God wants?”

Cyrus stormed across the chapel to him, holding his gun to Spencer’s chest. “You think you know the word better than I?”

“No. I’m just demonstrating that you can use the Bible to manipulate anything.”

“Matthew 10:24,” Cyrus started. “‘Do not suppose that I have come to the Earth to bring peace. I did not come to bring peace but a sword.’”

He took the butt of his gun and swung it into Spencer’s stomach.

“The devil knows how to read, too.” Charles’ words and Tobias’ voice echoed in his head while the pain shot up his torso.

He doubled over.

Cyrus stared down at him. “You cannot convert my brothers.”

He hit him again, the ache spreading until he couldn’t stay on his feet anymore. Spencer collapsed in front of Cyrus and looked up at the man holding the means of his death. Was this it? Either shot by a crazed leader or blown to bits in his final message to the world.

He never got to introduce you to his mom.

Cyrus held the remote- the means of their destruction- in his hand like it was the means of his redemption.

“No one had to follow,” he mused. “God could have stopped me.”

Two men burst through the chapel door, the first shooting Cyrus’ follower and Morgan firing into Cyrus’ chest. The man crumpled to the ground, dropping the remote beside him.

Reid sat up. “He just did.”

Across the country and two hours in the future, you waited.

The television screen lit up the dark living room. You sat on the couch, knees to your chest, arms around your legs and eyes red and watering from staring at the TV light.

When the explosion overtook your vision, you’d cried all of the tears you had. You didn’t even have the energy to scream. Instead, a hoarse, choking cry tore through your aching throat.

Who was still inside? Did anyone make it out?

You sunk off the couch and onto the floor.

They were in there.

Everyone you loved up in flames.

Spencer.

Emily.

Aaron.

Derek.

Dave.

Six lost all over again.

A shaking hand reached to turn off the TV, leaving you in darkness.

The plane, though quiet, had Spencer’s head screaming. One question haunted him over and over again.

If he couldn’t protect Emily from Cyrus, how was he supposed to protect you from yourself?

He pretended to bury himself in a book, but his mind wouldn’t let him process any of the words. He didn’t notice Prentiss sit across from him until she spoke.

“Hey.”

He mouthed ‘Hi’ but nothing came out. He didn’t know what else to do, so he returned his gaze to the book, too pained to see the bruises on her face.

Prentiss put her hands on his and lowered them, forcing him to look at her. “I need you to listen to me,” she spoke softly and firmly all at once, like a big sister comforting a little boy. “What Cyrus did to me was not your fault. It was my decision and I would do it again.” Her tone lightened. “Do you hear me?”

He managed a small, confirming smile, even if he was still having a hard time convincing himself.

Her thumb soothingly rubbed the back of his hand. “Thank you.” The two settled into their seats and he continued reading. Emily’s eyes widened with a concerning thought. “Have you called Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Reid, the raid and the explosion were all over the news,” she said. “Does Y/N even know we’re alive?”

He scrambled for his cell. “Someone had to have called her… right?” Prentiss shrugged, anxiously awaiting the call. He dialed your number.

It rang three times before you picked up.

“You’re okay,” you said breathlessly.

“I’m so sorry- I should have called sooner, but everything has been so crazy and they made me get checked out by the paramedics because I almost blew up- but you already knew that. I just wanted to call and see how you were doing and make sure that you were okay,” he rambled.

You laughed, but he could tell there wasn’t any humor in your voice. “It’s okay, Spence. JJ called me and filled me in already. I figured you would call when you could.”

He glanced up at Prentiss and mouthed ‘JJ told her.’ “Okay, I’m glad someone kept you updated. Everything has been… well, I’ll tell you when I get back I guess.” He exhaled, the memories of panic and fear of never seeing you again starting to be replaced by thoughts of holding you and falling asleep beside you. “I can’t wait to get home.”

A smile teased the corner of your lips. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You should get some sleep,” he said. In D.C. it was almost the time you usually woke up for work, but he knew that you probably hadn’t slept at all since the story first hit the news. He always worried when you didn’t take care of yourself.

“Only if you promise to get some rest on the plane,” you replied.

“Okay, I will.” Just hearing your teasing tone made his heart feel lighter. You sounded like your usual self. Maybe he didn’t need to be so worried. You were always the stronger one. “I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too, Spencer. Goodnight.”

You set your phone down on the smooth wooden surface. You wrapped your fingers around your glass and poured the remaining bronze liquid down your throat. Your chest warmed. This was a familiar burn. A welcome relief.

Emptying the glass, you set it back on the bar and ordered another drink.

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #the in betweens #criminal minds imagine series #minimal loss #criminal minds season four #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #matthew gray gubler

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autisticadvocacy · 2 months

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“This wasn’t a vigil about Jack, it was a vigil about the discriminatory and cruel systems in our society that lead to Jack’s death and the deaths of hundreds of other disabled people at the hands of their caregivers.”

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haleshomeforthederanged · 11 months

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i've heard that what kind of fanfiction you read can say a lot about you as a person. i'm sure, in some way, that's at least partly true. so, allow me to bare my soul. these are my top eight sterek fic recs.

☾ 1 ☽

Trust Fall by Stoney

Explicit | Word-count: 144, 224

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it's pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide. Great. Wait...does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit. **** Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over. They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn't be calm and focused. Of course.

☾ 2 ☽

Pale Skin and Fragile Bone by fakinbrilliance

Mature | Word-count: 62,239

Stiles asks Derek to teach him self-defense.

☾ 3 ☽

Across a Certain Threshold by ketren

Teen and Up | Word-count: 76,126

Derek and Stiles meet in Eichen House: a love story. (Or at least it would be, if Derek didn’t basically turn feral at the drop of a hat. Or if not for the strange darkness stalking Stiles through the halls. There’s more going on at Eichen than meets the eye - and if they’re going to find a way out, they’ll have to do it together.)

☾ 4 ☽

Prince Among Wolves by Wrenegade (Wrenegadeone)

Explicit | Word-count: 101,000

Looking for full day/evening sitter. 2 twin boys age 4. Must have exp. w/werewolves. Must be human. No pedophiles. No teenage girls. Pay negotiable.

☾ 5 ☽

Pack Wars by miss_aphelion

Mature | Word-count: 158, 621

Scott liked to call it the Great Pack Divide of 2012. Derek liked to call Scott an idiot. (Or the one where Derek kidnaps Stiles to teach Scott a lesson, and ends up learning a few things himself)

☾ 6 ☽

Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow

Mature | Word-count: 25,960

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your…werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

☾ 7 ☽

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach for otter

Explicit | Word-count: 76,956

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

☾ 8 ☽

DILF by twentysomething

Explicit | 30,871

"Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."

#i am so tired but for some reason my brain became fixated on doing this #sterek fic recs #stiles stilinski x derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fic recs #fanfiction

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masterpieceofunderstatement · 1 year

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Medea—beginning and ending.

I am not one for putting thoughts to paper. I’m better at indecipherable letters jammed together in all caps to emote. But I'll give it my best go - for anyone who doesn't have the good fortune to see the show in person.

But I will start with this: ASLJT;LQEHJGLJKLKJJKJJK!!! ASEGNASLKDDDDDDDGHAHHHHHHASLIIIUABJYG!

Now to elaborate: holy. shit. truly. utterly. holy. fucking. shit. Sophie Okonedo is a goddess walking amongst us. The reviews, as glorious as they are, still fail to adequately convey how earth-shattering her performance is. The humanity (and even more surprisingly, the humor!) she's able to imbue into a historically-villainous character is honestly uncomfortable. Like...still a lil suss at feeling maybe filicide was a justified response to the situation 😅👀

And despite the CONSTANTLY! HEIGHTENED!! EMOTIONS!!! of the play, it's less "big acting" than one would normally expect from Greek tragedy. Sophie mentioned in an interview that the intimacy of the theatre allows for more subtlety (which of course plays to her strength as an actor). What could have easily been an overwrought performance has moments of such stillness, where there is no change to her expression other than a darkening behind her eyes, a slight twitch of an eyebrow, a break in her breathing pattern. But the power contained in such a infinitesimal movement??? 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 Like, Ms. Okenedo, please - we are mere mortals. This version of the play didn't particularly delve into Medea's mythological history, but Sophie herself felt mythical.

And the end! It rushes upon you so quickly. The tension has been building and building - truly could feel a mounting pressure in my chest. And then! Then!!! The absolute car crash of an ending. An evening of surprisingly well-light theatre, then a plunge to immediate darkness.

@lavendelhummel did an amazing job of describing the aftermath. "Like [Sophie] came up from diving. And then she did smile... and you could see she had to force herself at first, because she was still a little in the killing-mindset, but then once she started it turned to her own genuine smile and it was as if a switch had been turned."

I must admit I saw the show more than once (and I’m so glad I did! More on that later). For the performance the first night, I truly don't think she fully emerged out of Medea. She smiled (and how glorious it was!) for the applause, but it never reached her eyes. She kept shaking her body and her arms, like an athlete coming down from the adrenaline of a race. Even as she walked offstage, her arms were vibrating, still unable to shake off Medea. In later performances, she came-to more quickly. In the second show, Ralph *fucking* Fiennes sat behind us 🫣🫣🫣 and the smile?! When Cleopatra saw her Antony during the standing ovation?! The radiance and joy that overtook her face will rot my brain til the end of my days😭❤️

Sophie’s performance is positively elemental. She's talked before about how her performances are never static, and that was so visible from night-to-night. This did seem dictated a bit by the energy of the audience itself. One night was a bit older overall, less generous with the moments of laughter. Her Medea was tense, a cat prowling with muscles tense and waiting to spring at any moment. The next night was a bit younger audience, with laughter given more freely. Her Medea was more fluid - more playful with her asides to the audience (aka the Women of Corinth). But her moments of rage were all-consuming bolts of lightning - the electricity of an unexpected shout had us jumping in our seats.

Anyway, that was a bit all over the place, but there you have it. She is truly magical. The entire cast was phenomenal, but this is a Sophie-centric milf blog and my brain was too hyper-focused on her to report much else. The collective daze of the audience after the show had ended was quite the trip. This transition of covering our mouths in horror to "oh...oh it's over...I should clap now," was one of the more discombobulating experiences of my life. Nothing like descending a fancy spiral staircase with an equally astounded strangers, all exhaling as though we'd just witnessed an extreme sport.

Forever grateful to have gone. Could’ve watched it ten more times and found something new. Thanks @bipandasworld for being my theatre buddy (….and for keeping me from going feral when Ralph sat down behind us😅) ❤️

#sophie okonedo #Medea #and to be purely superficial - y’all she was so fucking gorgeous #her face! in person! 💀#and her arms?!??! she’s so fucking ripped #I maintain that the show should be called ‘Madeltoids’ cuz those shoulder muscles got me 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

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payphoneangel · 5 months

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This passage for the DVD commentary 🥲🥲🥲

BIRDIE!!!! KILL ME DEAD!!!!

Ok this is going to be SO LONG but there's a lot to unpack here.

for anyone curious this is the fic I will be talking about and the ask is based off this post.

oh where do I even BEGIN with this one. Okay. Okay so for this voicemail I had a few ideas I wanted explore.

Dean's relationship to alcohol

Dean's relationship with Jack

Dean's anger

So before we get into this, i think it's important to mention that, at least to me, one of the most frustrating things about Spn is that: It loves to beg the question, but it rarely ever answers it.

What I mean by that is the show will introduce these concepts and ideas. It will say, 'hey you ever notice X?' and I go, 'woah yeah I did notice X! What about it?' and they go, 'uhhhh idk. nothing. why are you asking? shut up.'

So for example, in Hammer of the Gods, Kali has this super great string of lines where she talks about the constant centering of western ideals. She begs the question (to the narrative), Why is the christian god the most important, most powerful god? Why is He the one who gets to be The Great Creator, while every other God is watered down to a Monster of the Week? Is that ever answered? Is it ever unpacked? To my memory, no. The show just continues on as is. They acknowledge the opposition to their argument, but do nothing to refute it.

And they do this all. the. time. with characterization.

Dean's relationship with alcohol

So Dean is canonically an alcoholic. It's shown all the time, far past the 'Red-blooded All American Man loves drinking beer' type of beat. Like we're shown time and time again that Dean struggles with substance abuse, specifically with alcohol, but what is the show trying to say ABOUT it? It seems bad, in the broadest strokes. There's plenty of scenes showing Dean drinking, breaking things, driving, yelling at people, being violent. But, to what end? Once again, to my memory, Dean never gets to heal from this problem, or grow past it. You get the occasional throwaway line, like Sam chastising Dean for drinking on a case at like 10 am (you'll have to forgive me for not remembering what specific episode).

So, in my fic, I wanted there to be consequences for this. Because consequences are the soil through which characters bloom and grow. I wanted Dean to be able to see and feel and understand that yeah, this is bad. this is bad for me and it's bad for everyone around me.

By fucking up on a hunt and then fucking up the post-hunt, that's a direct consequence for him. That's a motivation for him to realize that something needs to change and that he needs to do something. (not saying that canon Dean was unaware of these revelations, but more so that the narrative didn't care to focus on them) I wanted to give him space and opportunity to do that.

2. Dean's relationship with Jack

I think one of the things the show does well is depicting the complexities of family dynamics. It's the complex father show! It's the fucked up brothers show! It's the show that went on so fucking long the brothers became fathers themselves! This is the show about viscous cycles!!!

and im going to be honest, the whole dynamic with Jack is weird. it really is the 'the most noble death in spn is to die for the winchesters' motif taken, imo, to it's most extreme. Hey guys, let's do a filicide (part 2 tbh rip emma). Jack as a character just like, to me it's just evidence of how committed this show is to NOT changing or evolving. Early seasons begs the question, 'when is a monster not a monster? When it used to be human? When its your brother? your son? When is a monster deserving of death? when it's done terrible things? or because it simply has the capacity to?' That's something Sam and Dean have to grapple with! And tbh I don't like the conclusions that the show comes to, which is 'if you are different, you are a monster.' (evidenced by how none of the special children were redeemed or just outright killed. and then Sam went on to just. stop having his powers and just got over drinking blood like okay.)

And then 8-10 years later we get Jack and oh okay we're doing this again. Alright.

So I wanted to ease back a lot of the uhhhh crueler stuff between Dean and Jack. And give them some space to heal and be on better terms with each other. A lot of their bonding happened 'off screen' in Cell service, which I tried to imply with the college plot line, the references to conversations they've had, and how Dean starts using they/them pronouns for Jack, but never really addresses how/when/why that convo happened.

But something that I DO like is the Jack/tfw parallels throughout the show! How does Jack remind Dean of Cas? of Sam? of himself? And I wanted to keep that martyrdom complex that all of tfw has in here. But that's when Dean realizes he fucked up! Kids shouldn't be almost dying for their parents!

And we see that when Sam steps in between Jack and Dean. That's Dean's moment to realize I am doing to Jack what my father did to me and I do not want that. I wanted it to be a bodily safety thing. I wanted Dean to see Jack beat up. Because how often has Dean used his own body as a shield? He knows what it feels like. I wanted him to have this moment of horror of oh. We taught you self-sacrifice. I taught you how to be a tool.

3. Dean's anger

So we have ^^^all that. And we have this moment where Dean is drunk, and he fucks up (or in his eyes fucks up) and Jack has to save him. And he's mad. But why is he mad? What is he angry at? WHO is he angry at?

Rage is very common on the show. In a lot of the high drama moments, we see a lot of anger. Dean breaking everything in a motel room, the violence, the throwing things. And in the show, I think anger is used as a catharsis in a lot of instances. SPN, to me, is an escapist fantasy about being put into situations where the only possible option is violence. The most correct and justified reaction to this impossibly unfair situation is to be violent and angry. And i think part of this is that men are taught to be violent and angry, but also shamed for their violence and anger (it's a whole double-standard thing, but i digress)

I subscribe to the idea that anger is a secondary emotion. Essentially, anger is a response (a call to action, even) to another emotion.

In a lot of the show, the emotion under anger is unfairness. So so so much of spn is this idea of 'it's a shitty situation but you have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps, grit your teeth, and get through it. because that's your job.' and that's fucking unfair!! That's something to get angry over!! And they do.

(Another common emotion preceding anger in the show is grief. And the grief is here. Oh, how it's here. Why was Dean drinking in the first place? Because Castiel is dead. but that's more of a theme for the fic as a whole and not this particular scene so im going to leave it here)

But to me, a very common precedent to anger is fear. You're scared, so you get angry. Anger protects.

I draw on personal experiences for a lot of my writing. Nothing is ever a 1:1 situation of my experience, but there's ghosts of myself in everything I write. This voicemail was one I drew on from an interaction I had with my own father.

One time as a teenager, on a really really hot day, I forgot my water bottle when I went to band practice and I passed out. Oops! I woke up, got sat down in the shade, a water bottle was found for me to drink. I was fine. However, the teachers didn't want me to drive myself home. Which sucked because I lived pretty far out of town. I call my dad. No answer. I call again. Nothing. I leave a voicemail.

I manage to get home (thanks to my stepmom who then left my dad a voicemail saying she grabbed me). But when my dad gets home, he's pissed. He had forgotten his phone in his car when he went into work that day. When he got in the car to drive home, he listened to my voicemail explaining what happened and asking for him to come pick me up (and then my stepmoms). So i'm sitting in our kitchen, and he's just chewing me out for being careless. and I remember thinking, why are you mad? It's not like I intended to get heat exhaustion. And then the more I listened to him, the more I realized. He wasn't actually mad at me. He was worried about me and upset with himself. He felt awful that he hadn't had his phone and couldn't help me when I needed him.

His kid was in trouble, he had been careless, now the kid's hurt. Maybe, had the kid been smarter, and let the monster kill him remembered to pack a water bottle, neither of us would be in this mess.

He was scared about what happened, and that fear came from feeling a lack of control, which then manifested into anger. Anger at himself for being useless, and anger at me for putting myself in that situation. What do you do when you're scared for someone? You get angry. Anger protects.

It's a sad song i think many fathers sing. I found it fitting for Dean.

4. All together now

So Dean's struggling with alcohol, even more so after Cas dying. He's struggling with Jack, and what to do about Jack, and how to be there for them when Dean's the reason their dad is dead. And then we get to this hunt where Dean is so so far from performing at his best and it's a tough fight and he's blaming himself for everything going wrong and then he's this fucking close to being the reason Jack dies, too. And oh, how it all that fear and self-loathing and grief come bursting out of him through anger.

and he feels so out of control! Cas is gone, Jack's hurt, Sam's hurt, and Dean is useless!! So he gets mad! but it's not out of unfairness. It's not out of an impossible situation. It's because Dean was drunk (and takes everyone's lives and well-being personally).

But that begs the question: is it really his fault?

Isn't that what genre he's in? Isn't he in the complex father show? the show about being angry? The show about family being hell?

That's not what he wants, though. That's not who he wants to be. He wants to be good. He wants to be good for his family. For Cas. For the people around him. Hell, maybe even for himself.

So maybe it's not his fault, but if he really wants to change, it is his responsibility to fix.

so maybe, just maybe, given some time, some space, and a narrative that cares,

maybe he can be what who he wants to be. Maybe he can have what he wants.

#vinny answers #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!! <33333333333 #sorry this ended up being like an entire fucking essay but i just HHHHH #i put a LOT of thought into cell service #I know i don't talk abt him as much but i really really do love dean #I just get frustrated bc the show never lets him like. change or grow #moral of the story: stay hydrated

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