#that episode really just felt healing if nothing else

[sassy-leather-jacket]

if it wasn't obvious from all the reblogs, i just got done watching the special and i can't lie i really loved it. it was like the perfect balance of cheesy and silly and serious and even a little cringy but i really enjoyed it.

what i HATED though, was whatever bs that was with the sonic making screens and force fields, like excuse me?? that's literally not what the sonic is for like that seemed so wild and honestly straight from a bad fanfic.

[myosotisa]

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

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There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it. 

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

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thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

[bugboybuck]

do you have any wishes for any buck-centric storylines next season? I feel in desperate need of some proper buck whump, coz it feels like it’s been FOREVER. Like, I think the lightning was supposed to be that, but it kind of felt like it was as much about everyone else as it was buck, and then the whump that should’ve followed it never really turned into anything before being dropped for… Natalia?? I just need to see Buck terribly sad and/or injured next season and maybe that makes me evil, but I don’t care. Season four was so long ago! MAKE THAT MAN SAD 2025!!!

ohhhhh my god SO many wishes !!

the lightning strike was Such once-in-a-lifetime (literally lmao) whump potential and i def feel they didn't follow through after it tbh?? i loved the coma ep and the actual lightning plot, but then they turned it into a healing moment for his parents that didn't feel earned and then just wrapped it up in a plot w natalia that went nowhere, i didn't feel they actually capitalised on it?? i don't want buck to get hurt in a way that will take him out of the 118 for any length of time next season bc i do feel there will be a Lot of shenanigans with the team make-up, but i would definitely love to see what'd happen if he got hurt next season and had tommy to worry about him/have the team noticing how different it is now he's got tommy. like maddie trying to organise another look-after-buck rota like she did after the lightning but every time someone turns up tommy's already there and they're like maddie i don't think this is needed?? his big strong boyfriend is waiting on him hand and foot???

i'd obviously love to see more of him exploring life as a queer man, too!!! i think hoping for a pride ep is too much to ask for, altho something like the team responding to a regular call during pride (nothing majorly disastrous but like someone broke their ankle at a drag show or something trying to do a death drop lmao) and buck excitedly announcing to everyone that he'd be there if he wasn't on the clock!! bc he's bi!!! and just connecting wiht other queer ppl in any way really. in my dreams we get some kind of full plot related to him becoming more out-and-proud and figuring out what that means for him — i think this could work super well with a plot with hen where they do something like protest some anti-lgbtq policy within the department, or run an event for lgbtq firefighters or something. like u CANNOT tell me clipboard!buck wouldn't be alllll over becoming event-coordinator for the lgbtqia+ firefighter society or something lmaoo.

honestly there's SO MUCH i'd rlly love them to explore tho. other figures from his varied past before firefighting turning up! more nuanced exploration of his relationship w his parents that isn't just 'this is all fixed now bc they decided to care age 30 so i'm fine'. career stuff — i don't pretend to know how the lafd works but i hear there's some kind of leiutenant thing u can become that's a step above regular firefighter and he'd CRUSH that and we know he has the ambition of someday being a captain. him deciding to take steps towards that, or training in some kind of specific rescue technique, getting more uber-competent moments where he gets to run a scene on his own.

oh and i want an episode where him and tommy to run a rescue together and them both to be wildly attracted to how good their bf is at his job and then make out against a fire truck at the end

[bird-inacage]

Love in the Air: Sky’s Truth Scene

So the other scene I MUST absolutely do a deep dive on is Sky’s truth scene. This occurs immediately after the ambush aftermath. Before Sky had even stepped into the condo, he made a promise to himself that he would tell Prapai the truth. Because not sharing his past with Prapai was slowly eating him up inside. In this episode, it’s revealed that Sky was living in fear of what Prapai would think of him, of how he would react once he found out.

So Sky decides to tell Prapai that Gun abused him and essentially shares a short re-telling of what we saw in the flashbacks. This is Sky finally telling Prapai his truth, and the cause for this trauma. As painful as it is for Sky to share that incident with Prapai, its the final piece of the puzzle that allows Sky to impart why he is the way he is, to the man that he loves.

As Sky is telling his story, Prapai is incredibly gentle and quiet throughout. He constantly strokes the back of Sky’s head - provides his warm, steadfast presence and allows Sky to say what he needs to say. This stroking action is a gesture of comfort first and foremost. We see Prapai do this a lot with Sky, but it also acts as a coaxing action. ‘It’s okay, you tell me in your own time, take it easy, I’m listening.’

Then Sky says the part that upsets Prapai the most.

“I’m trash. I’m damaged goods. When I returned home, I was like a broken doll. I didn’t speak. Didn’t listen. I spaced out so much that my dad got worried.”

For Sky, these are his inner demons. These are the poisonous type of inner thoughts that have plagued him ever since the abuse. Thoughts that have been deeply ingrained on Sky’s psyche. This isn’t just about how he felt back then, its how he still feels now. And Prapai has seen facets of that first-hand. The fact that Sky says this with a self-deprecating smile, speaks volumes. It’s not conjecture in Sky’s mind, it’s a matter of fact. Like he’s admitting a shameful part of his own character.

As Prapai listens to Sky say these things about himself, it deeply, deeply hurts him. One, because it insinuates a degree of self-loathing that derives from thinking this was brought on by one’s self. That Sky still believes he was at fault for causing this to happen. Sky doesn’t say, ‘He’s trash, He’s damaged, He’s an absolute lowlife for doing this to me’, it’s ‘I’m the worst, I’m nothing, I’m worthless’. And Prapai cannot bear hearing Sky say that about himself. Two, that Prapai (who loves Sky so dearly), knows and sees that Sky is everything but those things.

Sky is sweet, he’s considerate, he’s loving. The Sky backstory really cemented my take on that Sky has always been an ardent child who wants desperately to be loved and to love. He just has so much love to give. And we saw evidence of this at the start of the episode. Sky is adorably clingy, he’s affectionate, he’s wanting. When he’s finally opened up to another human being, he showers them with his undiluted love and attention. And that earnest love is so distinctly palpable and wholesome. Sky truly gives his everything to someone he loves. Every ounce and every drop of himself he can muster.

Prapai remains silent, shaking his head in disbelief and seemingly taking this all in, but his eyes are screaming out. You can literally hear the thoughts in his head blaring, ‘No, that’s not true. None of what you’re saying is true. You’re the most incredible person I know. I love you so much. Please, please don’t say that about yourself.’ When you love someone else, you see all the amazing qualities they possess, the qualities that made you fall in love with them in the first place. To have your significant other say such awful things about themselves, knowing that there’s no easy way or quick fix to erase the cumulative years of self-hatred, is just unbearable. Loving someone isn’t enough to convince them to love themselves. Healing is very much a process that has to take place within oneself. Prapai knows this, and so he doesn’t deny what Sky’s saying. Because denying those things won’t dilute the impact they have on Sky. So all he can do is be heartbroken on Sky’s behalf. To mourn the Sky that could have been if none of this had happened.

When you hear stories in retrospect, aware that you cannot change the course of history, it can cause anyone to feel immensely helpless. Knowing that there’s nothing you can do to repair the past. This may also be a real point of fear for Prapai. It could have so easily gone a different way. For Sky to bear the brunt of that trauma and come out the other side - to be how he is and where he is today is nothing short of a miracle. There was always another possible trajectory in which Prapai never meets Sky. A version of events where Prapai doesn’t ever get to prove to Sky that he deserves to be loved and cherished. Where Prapai doesn’t get to do his darned best to heal and protect Sky. Prapai can now vividly envision how much could have been at stake, and how much could be have been lost. This wonderful love he may have never even known.

Then Sky asks, “Can I love you? Can I?” And this is such an fitting piece of dialogue that encompasses Sky so completely. He desperately loves Prapai, and wants to love him freely, fully. But he feels he has to ask permission. That little additional “Can I?” sounds like the child in Sky speaking. ‘Please let me love you. Please don’t turn me away.’ It almost sounds like Sky is additionally implying, ‘I know my love may be a burden, but I promise I’ll be good and I won’t overstep.’ This links back to what Sky said last episode about Gun trying to programme Sky to be obedient. The fact that Sky even feels he has to ask just destroys Prapai, who has wanted nothing but Sky’s love. Who treasures Sky’s love above all else.

Sky asking if he can love Prapai can also be interpreted as - do I deserve to love again? Do I deserve to burden you with my baggage, with myself? Am I even capable of loving again (like a normal, undamaged person)? Akin to how Sky’s nightmares still plague him, Sky feels a huge sense of hopelessness over the shadow this has cast over him and his future. He has no idea when he will be free of this, if ever.

Every step of this conversation peels back another layer of Sky’s withered sense of his own self-worth. A chasm that Gun intentionally created. So Prapai is understandably tearful and devastated 

And yet Sky, despite all this, is still the caring and considerate soul that he always has been. He asks Prapai why he’s crying and carefully wipes away his tears. Through all his insecurities and anxieties, Sky is still able to believe in Prapai’s good and Prapai’s devotion. He doesn’t want Prapai to cry out of guilt over something he could have in no way prevented. Because Sky is thankful. He’s immensely grateful. For everything Prapai has done for him. For everything Prapai wishes he could have done for him. It certainly doesn’t eradicate the past, but its a colossal comfort to Sky. It’s gives him strength to keep fighting.

Prapai goes on to emphasise that this isn’t about Sky asking whether he deserves to love Prapai, but Prapai can’t bear the thought of Sky loving anyone but him. Because Prapai loves him so much, he’s possessive and fiercely protective. He knows what a beautiful human being Sky is, and just how lucky he is to have Sky’s affection. So he also wants Sky affections to belong only to him, and to him alone.

I do believe that Sky finally sharing this with Prapai was clearly a huge weight off his chest. Yes, this conversation by no means ‘fixes’ the issues and trauma that Sky is still working through. But Sky and Prapai are taking those healthy first steps to allow Sky to begin healing properly, thoroughly. And that begins with acknowledgement, transparency, and letting go.

[mayullla]

Title: Little healer here!

Characters: Hawks / Keigo Takami (My Hero Academia/BNHA)

Summary: After fighting with villains Hawks was badly injured, when you showed up and healed him.

Warnings/tags: Slowburn platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, reader has a healing quirk (maybe-), the obsessions themes are not obvious here but will happen at one point so just in case I am putting this here.

Note: Okay so like my hero academia season 1 to 5 I have watched most of the episodes this month and like here. A small brainrot of adopted dad Hawks turned slow burn yandere everyone kind of deal-

Little healer here! list (part 2 is here!)

It was Hawks who found.. well not necessarily it was more so you found him badly hurt and hiding away after he underestimated a villain he was fighting with.

Hiding injured after the fight in the narrow walkway between buildings he was about to get ready to leave planning on getting up from his seat on the pavement when he heard footsteps only to be left surprised when he saw a child walking in the middle of the dark streets.

A red feather right against your neck you weren't sure what was happening as you looked at the surprised man, tilting your head.

"Mister-san, what are you doing here?" You asked curiously.

Hawks examined you searching for anything suspicious yet other than your white tattered dress and old sneakers and if not a little big for you... nothing was suspicious.

"Mister you are hurt!" Hawks looked at your eyes, concern was written all over them too real to be fake.

"Yeah, I just happened to trip kid." He told you slowly pulling the sword away from your neck he was worried that he might have caused you trauma from it but your casual reaction was something else really.

"You need to treat it!" You whined at him as you walked closer, you didn't see how tensed the man became still cautious about who you were.

"Hand."

Hawks looked at your small tiny hand that was reaching out for him yet he made no move. Pouting you took a seat on the floor and grabbed his hand, bloody from cuts and bruises. "H-hey kid you shouldn't be doing that-" The warm feeling that he felt within his skin almost tingling within his blood and veins yet was somehow soft and welcoming. The pain soothed over as the cuts and wounds healed themselves.

Watching a large cut on his arm slowly knit together he looked at you, who was focused on your work. His eyes narrowed as he wondered how a small kid like you was here when you have a pretty amazing quirk like this. He thought that at your age most children with some sort of healing quirk could probably heal a scraped knee or a small cut.

Not deep wounds like his...

The moment you released his hand you took a deep breath so tired from healing him yet you looked at him satisfied that you were able to help even if his face was so confused. "There! Healed! No more bobos." You told him standing up you were about to skip away when he grabbed your hand.

"Hmmm?" You glanced back at the once wounded man now all healed.

"Uhh thanks for healing me. Can you tell me your name kid?" Hawks asked with a smile on his face trying to look calm. You looked back at him smiling, you told him your name and that you were from an orphanage not too far from here. It seemed like that was enough for him to let you go as you headed back to the orphanage not knowing a small feather go stuck on your hair.

Heading back he went to tell the Hero Commission about a little gem he had found hiding away in an old orphanage. Having a quirk that was maybe as strong as Recovery Girl if carefully watched over will be beneficial to the hero world after all.

He thought that all he needed to do was tell and that was it, as he was reminded of your little smile he thought that that was the last time he would see you smile like that. He wondered why his heart for a moment became hollow.

"Huh? You are asking me to take care of her? Sorry but like I also have an agency to take care of and like hero work and all." Hawks did not expect them to suddenly ask him to take care of you. Currently, it seems that they have their hands full with things to do. Hawks too was busy but in their eyes right now he still should have enough time to take care of a child.

Hawks really thought it was a bad idea as he entered an old orphanage gate the old rusty gate creaking as he moved to open it called many of the residents' attention. And by residence, he means children.

He was quickly bombarded with children all of who were surprised the hero Hawks were there while teachers tried to calm the children down and asked Hawks why he was there.

He was interested in adopting a child much to everyone's surprise.

The hesitant look on the elder teacher's face as she left you and Hawks alone was understandable but unfortunately, he was on a mission right now. "Why is mister-san here?"

"Why can't I say hi and thank the person who helped me in the alleyway?" Hawks teased you. "But then why are we here in this room?" You asked looking around the blue walls decorated with paper flowers. "This room is where children find a home."

"Do you not want to be adopted? Don't you also want a place to call home?" Hawks asked, watching as you shook your head. "I want a home." There was longing in your eyes, yet somewhat scared. It made Hawks wonder how you came to this orphanage how you ended up here... he thought of that time you healed him. You seemed to have no fear of blood when you healed him.

"But Mister-san looks too young to be a father."

..... "Oi."

Hawks was not sure if he should take that as a compliment or an insult. On one hand, it is a compliment to be called young sometimes but from a kid that he was supposed to be adopting he wasn't so sure.

"Listen kid, my name is Keigo Takami. Hero name Hawks. I am quite popular with the young generation. So you not knowing my name means that I doing something wrong here." The small giggles you made covering your hand from letting them made Hawks smile a little, the knowing mischievous twinkle in your eyes was a dead giveaway.

"Mister-san do you want me to call you dad?"

"...."

Hawks looked at the papers about your quirk, a healing quirk that he was expecting so long as you are touching the person you can heal that person. Simple it seems but strong... Hawks wondered "So do you use your quirk often?"

"Hmmm sometimes, I am the only one who can heal in this orphanage so a lot of my friends look for me when they get hurt." You said looking at your hands, as you swung your legs under the table.

"How about outside the orphanage?" Hawks asked, you looked at him in the eyes and then outside as you wondered. A finger in under your mouth as you tried to figure out if you ever healed someone outside the orphanage. "You?"

"Very cheeky kid." You giggled as he raised a brow a smirk on his lips. "Sometimes I do. It is not often that I find someone bleeding on the side of the alleyway." Your eyes glittered.

"Very funny." Hawks rolled his eyes, as you continued to giggle.

You were a cute kid really as the conversations he had with you were all light and carefree it almost made him relax a little. And after a few more visits you were adopted by him, as you waved goodbye to your friends you looked at the man with red wings.

You smiled as the teachers told you that you now found a home and that you are so fortunate. That you must be good. Hawks waited till you said your goodbyes before taking you to his car.

"This is your new home," the house was luxurious so different from the old orphanage you lived everything was second-hand if not third or fourth hand. You gasped at how bright and shiny the place was running around yet careful not to touch anything afraid that your might break something.

Hawks watched you roam around the place with sparkling eyes.

Your room was empty and bare of any design or furniture except for a bed, desk and wardrobe. Hawks had told you that he would let you design the place to your liking but you told him that this was enough. The red hawk plushie that he placed on top of the bed was more than enough.

Hawks can't help but smirk at you patting your head as he heads to the kitchen asking what you would like to eat. The meal was joyful, something that Hawks didn't experience often in his own home, not like he was the type to invite people here often when he was so busy.

He asked you if you knew how to wash and you told him you could, giving you your pajamas he prepared you a bubble bath something that made you super excited.

"Ohh! Bubbles!!"

Brushing your teeth in from of the mirror with Hawks right beside you. The cheerful sounds in the lonely house were unfamiliar to Hawks as he watched you watch cartoons on the tv. Not bad, something in his mind he could get used to.

Maybe...

He just didn't expect to have a hard time getting you to bed. When you tried to run away from your room only to get caught by his red feathers. You pouted at him as he tucked you into bed. "Kids don't grow unless they get lots of sleep didn't the caretakers in the orphanage not tell you that?" He smirked at your face, poking your chubby cheeks.

"Yeah..."

"Well get to sleep." He was about to leave a feather right by the switch to turn the lights of your room of when you grabbed his t shirt. Sighing he turned back to you to see your hesitant face, almost lost and scared that he was your only hope. It was weird... something that Hawks never saw ever since he meet you.

"Don't go..." The voice was small, scared. "Please don't go. I am scared..."

It made Hawks nervous as he took a seat on your bed. You covered most of your face with a blanket but it seems that the strength on your hand that was holding his t-shirt did not lessen. "Hey what is the matter kid? Don't worry nothing bad is gonna happen to yah. You are staying at a hero's home no?"

Your eyes watered as your hold on his t-shirt tightened "I am scared... I am scared that this might all be a dream." You mumbled softly yet Hawks heard everything.

Watching you hold his t-shirt he wasn't sure what to say all of the sudden... "Don't worry... I won't leave you." Hawks softly said placing a hand on your head "I promise you that once you wake up nothing would be a dream and that Mr. Hawks will be right beside you when you open your eyes." Raising the red hawks' plushie that you forgot in the living room he placed it right beside you.

"Promise?" You asked the strength on your hold lessen as you raised your other hand showing your pinky. Hawks smiled softly as he grabbed your pinky with his. "I promise."

Hawks almost knew nothing about how to care for a kid really, yet his head can't help but melt as you continued to cling to his shirt. He stayed with you when you closed your eyes, he stayed with you till your breath slowed a little with little snores. You were asleep tired from a hectic day.

Hawks didn't leave the room immediately unable to get up as he looked at the ceiling. The room was once an empty bedroom meant for guests who would probably stay at best a day or two.

Yet now it was given to a little girl that he was supposed to take care of for who knows how long. He thought he would not get attached he cant not with his line of work. Yet the reality was much harsher to him when he watched as the power in your hand slowly fade little by little dropping to the bed sponge.

Really he also doesn't think that he would be a great caregiver to you. Honestly, he didn't think he would be taking care of a kid in his early 20s. He was told he was to send you to UA where Recovery girl will care of you all the while teaching you how to use your quirk. He thought that at most he will giving you food and shelter at most he didn't think you and him would interact this much.

And this was all in one day...

You would probably be at AU almost the whole day once he gets back to his hero duty to busy then. He was only given a few days off to look after you so that you could get used to your new life.

Maybe then things would change, and maybe you and he would not grow any closer then... when it happens...

He didn't know how long he stayed in your room but in the end, he stood up and left slowly closing the door so as to not let you wake up.

"Awake birdy?" You rubbed your eyes as you stared at the man who wore a cute-looking apron with frills on them. Something was frying in the kitchen, the delicious smell woke you up. "Want some pancakes?"

"Umh!" You nodded your head holding tightly to the hawk plushie. You let him grab you pulling you out of the bed as he had his feathers clean up the bed. Picking you up you clung to his neck still sleepy trying to wake up as your stomach growled.

[anchesann0]

Shugo Chara is better than Miraculous Ladybug

My opinion that I wanted to put out there. Clearly Miraculous Ladybug was heavily inspired by Shugo Chara that came out years before Miraculous Ladybug and the manga is better than the anime.

Mind you, everything I say is about the Miraculous series NOT the movie.

I just had to get this off my back since it's been bothering me for a while. Over the years, there are a lot of similarities between Shugo Chara & Miraculous

similarities:

MC that heal some form of corrupted spirits

little fairies that support main character in multitudes

black cat boy counterpart/love interest

dream prince that MC admires

But it goes even further into sometimes disturbingly minute details:

MC loves fashion

MC is shy, only confident in counterpart

MC has lucky symbols associated with her

Has unlucky black cat as counterpart

MC and black cat boy have artifacts that help them and others transform (highlighted in SC manga)

Artifact is given by a mentor (Tsukasa & Wang Fu)

dream prince crush only likes hero counterpart

Cat boy doesn't feel free due to family circumstances

cat boy has one missing parent

cat boy has substitute parent

Spirit corruption happens to someone experiencing a level of doubt

MC is a ms. fixit (Su/Amulet Clover only)

side characters have some action

Spirit corruption can be dumb (SC anime more than manga high-key)

It's disturbingly similar to me. Yes, I know inspiration is not plagiarism. And I normally wouldn't care of this since nothing is original in the world of art, but what irks me is that the product (MLB) SC inspired wasn't done well. It's not to say SC isn't problematic with age gap and child abandonment or that MLB is awful, but... there are problems in MLB that SC just did better.

First: Show not tell

SC did a lot of show, not tell. From the image alone, you can see that Amu loves fashion. She always had a different outfit or altered her uniform (since Japan enforces uniforms). And there was a purpose to it. Her fashion was a form of expression that she struggled with. How much of herself could she show without being judged? She herself struggled with change, and her clothes reflected that. It also reflected how she didn't know how to best connect who she was inside and express in a way that leave her feeling vulnerable to society's criticism.

Marinette, from France with no enforced uniforms, wore the same thing everyday. Only her room expressed that she loved fashion. That and the episode with the hat that had her signature. We also only got that she loved it. And you know, anyone could love whatever they loved just because, but as a story, it didn't really make sense on why it was a big deal.

To me, unfortunately, I saw her love of fashion as a connection to her crush, the model Adrien. And at that point, she could've been anything else, like a photographer or a fellow teen model. (I haven't watched it in a while, so maybe I'll eat my words.) The message of that for young girls so far isn't that great.

Second: Corruption

(Manga mostly) SC had pretty understandable reasons for corruption. A girl was moving to a different country, so she felt scared and overwhelmed about learning a new culture, making new friends. A girl thought her dreams of being a ballerina were over from an ankle injury. A man lost his dream after his mentor (the only person who supported his dreams) retired as a teacher to care for his sick wife. As an adult, I liked that SC showed all the very real circumstances, fears and insecurities that come with trying to fulfill your dream. Yeah, some in the anime were silly like the ramen one, but there are plenty of others that still resonate with me. Some of the motivational speeches that Amu gives do make sense.

^^THESE WORDS^^ have healed something in me and motivated me towards my new dream. And I'm saying this as an adult whose changing career goals after getting my college degree and work experience.

For Miraculous, there were some good reasons, like Stormy Weather not getting the job. But I think it's safe to say there were more weird and shallow reasons for some that outweigh the reasonable ones. Like the pigeon, the kid who wants to play, your friends not coming to a party... You know.

Were there some silly ones for Shugo Chara, of course, were there more understandable ones than silly ones. Yeah. When the anime caught up to the manga (that was in development while the anime was running) the producers put a reasonable OC villain Lulu deMorcef (approved by manga creators Peach-Pit) that preyed on people who weren't sure what their dream was. Season 1 was filled with people/victims who were working for their dreams but met roadblocks like performance anxiety, AI replacement (I see you corporate), and the ever-present doubters of society). Season 2 filler villain was literally victims of uncertainty, being pushed to choose a career course at a young age. Some weren't sure of taking over their parents' flower shop, some weren't sure they could handle the downsides of being a teacher. It makes sense to adults and children. Plus, they're making kids aware of these trials at a young age, like excuse me, thank you for treating kids with respect as thinking, developing beings.

Third: Romance

The romance. There is so much to be said about the love square of MLB and the friends to lovers trope (which is not my favorite). but at the end of the day, my biggest problem with the romance in Miraculous is that it dragged other people into it.

It was already bad that they liked each other's alter egos. It was worse that after so long (at least until the movie), they did not recognize who the other was behind the mask. It's a very problematic message to me, even now. Because shallow romance isn't love, and I really think that's important to say in today's dating atmosphere of swipes. Not only is it shallow, but Luka and Kagami got mixed up in their confused feelings. In their doubt, the two heroes said "I'm going to figure out my feelings by dating someone who has sure feelings for me. Maybe I can learn to love them." instead of "I'm going to focus on myself, be more confident in my skills, then see if my crush enriches my life."

No, they had to drag innocent people in along the way. My heart felt for Luka when he discovered Chat Noir and Ladybug's identity. You can literally pinpoint when his heart breaks.

SC, the predecessor, was better than this. Tadase, who fell in love with Amulet Heart the counterpart. By this time, Amu has been between two boys. Dream Prince Tadase and Cat Boy Ikuto.

BIG HEALTHY DIFFERENCE:

Tadase admits his mistake. He admits that he liked an ideal version of her, and that he liked one-fourth of who she was. He owns up in not seeing her for who she really was and wants a chance to make it right by getting to know the real her.

In turn, Amu admits that she liked the IDEA of Tadase just as much as Tadase liked the counterpart of her. She is incredibly aware of how shallow that is by the end of the series.

We, the audience, see her real connection with Ikuto, who understands her, the real her. Both Amu and Ikuto have been plagued by what other people say about them, and when they interact with each other, it comes from a place of "What do your actions say about you?" Not to mention, they met each other literally yelling, crying, and awkward, but still connect and are attracted to each other.

SC manga did not hesitate to let us know that the best relationship is the real one not the ideal one.

Don't get me wrong, the love square is new, unique, and different, making it a refreshing value of entertainment, however what does it say about how young people should approach doubt in relationships?

SC gave an answer. Go for the real, not the ideal.

Fourth: The villains

Straight up. One of the things I feel like MLB did right was Hawkmoth's motivation for corrupting all these people: to bring back the person who really mattered to him, Emilie.

Dark, romantic, tragic.

And it makes sense. Society can suck. It's impersonal, and not always fulfilling to just serve in society. There's that one person who enriches your life with happiness and laughter, who'll go with you when things get rough and hard, and will be there at your most vulnerable.

And then they're taken away from you by something no one can control.

He made it very clear that Emilie is that person to Gabriel and no one in society can replace her, that's why he doesn't mind destroying buildings and stadiums, etc. He's the foil to Marinette who loves everybody and wants to save everybody.

One of the failings of Shugo Chara is the big boss, who turned out to be a kid who lost his parents, suffered neglect from his grandfather, and his grandfather trying to get his grandson pretty things so he wouldn't have to deal with the emotional fall out of loss. AKA He was someone who didn't want to change, but this really could've been done so much better.

HOWEVER, I LOVED THE ARC BETWEEN AMU & UTAU

To me, that was the real creme de la creme of foils opposing each other, and how neither was really wrong or right. They are next to Ash Ketchum and Paul foil rivalry from Pokemon.

Utau is someone who values her own dreams. She is someone who thrives and improves because of competition. The best often come from people challenging others and themselves to be better. For example, Disney consumer make their own Mickey ears. Disney responds by expanding Mickey ear designs. How do consumers respond? By making more unique, possibly moving, designs. And it keeps growing and expanding.

Utau understands that people have the same dream as her, but not everyone gets to stand under the spotlight. Not without effort and struggle and endurance to keep going even when it's hard. She works hard for it and wants it so bad that when others fall to corruption she reasons that they just didn't want it as much as her.

The best kpop groups, athletes, and artisans thrive in doing better than others or better than who they were before. Utau represents the competition between dreams that create progress for something better. Progress is made by understanding something needs to be improved.

Bad part of consistently endorsing competition, the struggle to remain on top and going too far to remain there. Which is ultimately what Utau does, losing sight of why she was there in the first place and struggling with a sense of becoming a sell out.

Amu is someone who believes that everyone's dreams. She, herself, is insecure, doubts if she's making the best decision, and can only move forward doing her best. Because sometimes that's all you can do. She believes that every dream has a place, and destroying those niche dreams can create more harm than good.

Real world example: a person literally wanted to make a system that could better identify bear claws, next thing people knew, the same system could better identify cancer cells.

Right now, people are making SignAloud gloves, a glove machine that voice sign language so when a person signs, someone who doesn't know sign language can hear what that person is saying.

All niche, not focused upon, and often not supported. But when people do, amazing things can be brought into the world. That's what Amu represents in healing those dreams. Because to crush it would create an equal amount of stagnation where we would never enjoy this progress because someone else crushed it.

She has her own pitfalls too because of this quality. Amu spreads herself out too thin trying to help everybody, which eventually leads to her getting hurt too. She gives in too easily when things don't go the way she wants and that causes her to lose her diamond egg to Utau.

Amu and Utau literally force each other to grow.

Utau makes Amu realize that she needs to work on herself. Amu then proceeds to challenge herself to be more honest when admitting she lost her egg. Amu steps up in healing others' dreams while confronting people who make her uncomfortable. Amu even learns how to get the fuck back up instead of feeling sorry for herself as seen by Amu reconnecting with Dia.

Amu makes Utau realize that not everything is a competition. She doesn't have to compete for love (her own Shugo Chara and her brother's love). Utau remembers the core reason of why she loved to sing. Through Amu, she learns there is power in vulnerability and healing (by finally being able to transform with El and accessing El's healing ability).

Amu learning how to be resilient from Utau and Utau learning that there's strength in softness through Amu.

What a redemption arc! Women helping women grow? Showing how both ways of living can be correct and wrong at the same time? Beautiful!

Chloe from Miraculous did not do this for Marinette. I don't really think Kagami did this for Marinette either.

Fifth: Side Characters

MLB has sweet side characters. Luka and Kagami are the real ones. Alya and Nino are cute. But unfortunately, they never really get their moments in the spotlight or character growth.

Alya still reports. Nino is still best friends with Adrien. Everyone sort of stays the same. If not that, they get into relationships with each other. I truly see no lie in this statement.

Whereas, for SC, I love Rima and her moment of standing up to her parents who have been keeping her locked away due to the trauma of kidnapping. What a great exploration of seeing the aftereffects of trauma and how it affects the victim and the people around the victim. We see it in how Rima has a hard time making friends, in how her parents fight about who's fault it is, and how everyone holds onto it due to the remnants of love. And after all this Rima shows what people/children should and shouldn't do.

Instead of hiding away from the world, she wants to participate in it. Yeah the world hurt her, but she found people that makes her overcome her fear of the outside world. Her parents want to continue hiding her away, they continue to act in fear and love, which ends up hurting her more. Society will still exist even if it upsets us, and she says I'm going out there, even if it scares me because losing the people I love is scarier.

A girl full of bravery. Bless her heart and dreams.

I love Kairi confronting himself and taking responsibility cause men holding themselves accountable is chef's kiss.

Not to mention the unfortunately brief gender identity crisis of Nagihiko/Nadeshiko who saw himself as both man and woman and the internal struggle of how limiting gender roles actually are. Women can play basketball and men can dance. Period.

We all know this king^ didn't need to change.

I just hate how some arcs were so brief in the manga and anime because it was just too ahead of its time. I felt like they really could have done more but Peach Pit was really wrapping it up considering they were making other mangas synonymously with Shugo Chara. I get it.

Sixth: Main Character growth

The root of all this ranting: Character growth.

Ladybug's goals was to save the city from Monarch. That sort of bleeds into Marinette's personal life. Outside of Ladybug, her personal goal is to be a designer, graduate (I'm assuming), and get closer to her crush, Adrien. A lot of focus is her getting closer to Adrien. A lot of the series advances on her beating Hawkmoth and thinking about how to handle his growing power.

Outside of the hero goal and crush goal, I see her becoming a designer, but I don't see many episodes of her growing as a designer other than the hat episode.

The movie in gaining confidence is the exception. Which is really sad that the actual source of Ladybug didn't do this.

Amu's character arc from beginning to end has been her internal struggle to cope with change. She wanted to change people's perceptions of her so she could make friends, but she also wanted to be comfortable changing (which is impossible). And this is without the love triangle and the hero has to heal and fight bad guys. A lot of the series is her struggling with change.

It's struggling to fit in after transferring. Then she finds a place of friends among the guardians, which she hoped for.

But that changes too. She struggles making new friends out of Rima and Kairi. She eventually does while losing her new egg to Utau.

After learning to be resilient from Utau and regaining her egg, she struggles changes in relationship dynamics with Ikuto and Tadase

After that's sorted out, she has to deal with Ikuto leaving to chase his dream. Along with the amusement park being taken down.

After that, she has to struggle with the change of losing her Shugo Chara and accepting how her dreams will always be a part of her, even if she can't see it (wait here while I cry my fucking heart out)

SC provides the message that CHANGE IS CONSTANT. And that's ok. Because you're resilient enough to overcome those changes. Because you can change without losing parts of yourself. Because people who love you will come back to you.

I don't know what message you really get from Miraculous or Marinette. Cause we have Peter Parker sacrificing his personal life to save others. We've seen that in Batman, Wonder Woman and Steve, My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer, etc... It might just be the same message, just delivered... well.

I don't know what MLB is delivering about romance, I don't know what's it delivering about dreams, or saving the city and seeing the first episode to the most recent, I don't know how she's grown. Other than lying to Adrien about his father. Yeesh.

SC isn't better in terms of things, especially fathers. Again, I acknowledge the questionable age gap, but the other concern is the cat boy's father abandoning his family to pursue music. Yeesh. Souko should not have waited for him. They were allowed to marry because cat boy's dad agreed to take over the company (Nepotism and refusing female daughter to take over is problematic). Dad leaves with favorite violin after father-in-law dies. I'm like ma'am, "Your husband left you with two kids the day your father died."

Obviously flawed background. Could've been better. Ikuto & Tadase's background could've been conducted better with more reasonable stakes. Again, a lot of problems as the story was trying to wrap up so it's aight.

While Miraculous Ladybug, as far I know, is still sort of going on with this unfortunate lack of growth as a series. The movie was pretty great.

All in all: So many of my feelings truly stem from the fact that if Miraculous was inspired by Shugo Chara, then I don't think it was done well. To the point where I think MLB is a bit offensive to skew the messages of SC. If it isn't, then MLB is clearly similar and doesn't match the lesson/philosophy of growth.

Heartcatch precure (And certain precure series like Yes Pretty Cure 5 Go! Go!) happens to be a similar and better story. Corrupted hearts, heroines, surprisingly handsome men. Some hints at relationships.

Princess Tutu, Magical Lyrical Girl Nanoha, have the best form of storytelling and unexpected loves.

[thesummerpetsalamander]

Frenchie on the cusp of a mental breakdown every five minutes and Kimiko once again in her trauma era… just let them be happy and safe together! 😭

i know right!!! when the first three episodes initially came out i was trying to hide how let down i felt by their romance going nowhere. i was thinking, “theyre both so broken, they need to heal themselves instead of trying to heal each other.” but like…the entire show has been the two of them healing together. theyre so trauma bonded, and they so clearly help each other work through their respective issues. they heal TOGETHERRRRR. even if it wasn’t romantic, their time as a duo for the past three seasons was really amazing because of how they understood each other so well. nothing felt weird between them then. NOW things feel weird between them because it feels the natural progression of their relationship was halted and flipped upside down.

i’ll always love the show, and i still like the direction the characters are going in now (and im definitely not complaining about watching frenchie make out with another hot dude). as much as you could justify frenchie and kimiko ending up together, i also think you can justify them not being together romantically. even if they are just platonic soulmates, as long as they’re with each other, because they really understand each other like no one else. i just wish things werent kinda awkward between them this season. i want to see them be best friends again, helping each other through their issues. hopefully we see more of it in the second half of season four.

maybe frenchie will explain the situation with colin to kimiko, and she will talk about the guilt she feels for bringing that girl into shining light, and the two will be there for each other once again? i honestly dont care if its romantic or platonic, i just want them to be there for each other.

[darkomoth]

Insomniacs

Chapter 2: Birthday Dinner

Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: Pending a full evaluation, you're stuck at home while you heal from your injuries. Hotch is worried and Reid's birthday is around the corner.

Notes: This is sort of a slow burn I guess. Slightly shorter chapter, hope you enjoy! :)

Also uploaded on Ao3 under the same title

Word count: 6.7K

Ch. 1 Ch.3

You were cleared to fly back home but had to spend a little over a week in the hospital while you recovered. They told you that you had a mild concussion, three bruised ribs, and a broken nose. So, ultimately, not as bad as it could have been. 

Still, it didn’t feel awesome. Of course, the doctor recommended that you stay in the hospital for observation for at least 3 weeks, but the sheer thought of being bed-ridden for that long made you pick at your nails. The monotonous hum of the machines and the low volume of the tv combined with the chilly hospital air put you severely on edge. Honestly, they were lucky you made it as long as you did. 

Everyone came to visit you at one point or another, which made you very happy. Penelope had gathered a basket-full of goodies for you which consisted of a teddy bear, many chocolates/candies, a coloring book that was obviously made for children, and three balloons which said, “It’s a Girl!” in pretty pink cursive. 

“They didn’t have any “I’m sorry you were kidnapped and tortured” balloons at CVS...” Garcia had said with a pout. They were appreciated, you assured her.

Spencer had reserved time to read to you, stating that he always felt better when his mom did the same for him as a kid. You’d drift off to the sound of the young doctor's voice who recited line after line from “The Wizard of Oz,” which he knew you loved. 

Derek came by a couple times to drop off food and watch a few episodes of whatever shitty soap opera happened to be on at the time. Somehow, they seemed better quality when he was there. His easy conversation made you relax in the stiff hospital bed and often you found yourself laughing a little too hard, straining your sides and reminding yourself of why you were here to begin with. 

JJ and Emily often visited together, since they were carpooling. They brought personal hygiene items from your apartment and flowers, talked about work and how the team was. “Oh, we’re falling apart without you, for sure.” JJ stated once. It made you smile, though you knew everyone was getting on just fine. 

Rossi wasn’t super talkative, but you were used to that. His company was welcome in the late hours when the ticking clock made you want to rip your hair out. He cooked some really good pasta, but you suspected it may have been take-out. Rossi denied it completely. 

Hotch was there more than anyone else, however. You could hear him pacing outside your door some nights, like he was debating on whether to come in. He always did after knocking gently on your door, which you eagerly answered.  

He’d sit by your side and ask how you were feeling, and you would answer the same way every time with a smile, “Like a million bucks.” It made him scoff and shake his head a little, though you knew he found it a little funny. After several minutes of small talk, his hand would search for yours and you would accept it with a small smile. Hotch wasn’t accustomed to doing nothing either, so he’d fidget. He’d check on your vitals, request an extra blanket, crack open the window for fresh air, or pace whenever you did succumb to sleep. 

Your request to go home was granted, but not to return to work. That would take at least another two weeks. Hotch thought even that was pushing it, though.  

“I’m seriously fine, Hotch. See, look,” You said, crumbling some trash into a ball so that you could toss it into a nearby trash can. You got it in one shot. “Look at that coordination,” You laughed, nudging his side softly. 

Hotch only stared at you, seemingly unamused. “That is not a good measurement of capability.”  

The two of you were walking out of the hospital, and you felt a heaviness lift off your shoulders as you passed though the automatic sliding doors. Finally, you were back to the real world. JJ and Emily brought you your own clothes which made you feel like yourself again and not some lab rat. The sun was warm on your skin, and you took a deep breath the moment you were outside. It made you forget about how you must’ve looked still, with a black eye and purple bruises littered across your cheek and neck.

The team had another case already, but Hotch stated he would be catching up with everyone as soon as he made sure that you got home safe. That set off a feeling of butterflies in your stomach which you tried to push away. That was genuinely the last thing you should be thinking about right now.  

“Well, what is a good measurement?” You ask, turning towards him and looking up into his eyes. They were already trained on you, stoic and resolute as always. 

“Your evaluation is scheduled in 12 days from now.” He says, impassively. 

You don’t try to stop the groan that escapes you, “That’s so long.” The two of you make it to Hotch’s car, he opens the passenger side door for you and holds onto your upper arm to help you inside, it sends a pleasant chill up your arm. You wince in pain as you change from an upright position to sitting, and Hotch notices. 

“Are you alright?” He hovers next to you as you reach for the seatbelt. Your ribs were actually on fire, but you nodded in response, not trusting your voice at the moment. Hotch looks at you skeptically for a second, hands twitching at his sides, before closing the door and making his way to the driver's seat. 

He looked good, you thought. Hotch was in his usual suit, but no jacket or tie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and you tried not to let your eyes linger for too long. Halfway through the drive, he speaks again. “You should’ve stayed at the hospital.” 

You look over at him again, his eyes are fixed on the road and his face neutral, but his hand grips the steering wheel tightly. “I couldn’t take another minute of that place.” You say, a little bitterly. 

Hotch glances at you but turns his attention back to driving. “I know... still.” He sighs like he’s resigned to the fact that you’re very stubborn and almost always get your way in the end. “How’s the pain?” 

Over the past week, Hotch has checked in on your pain level. He’d ask where you were from 1-10; 1 meant almost no pain, 10 meant it was unbearable. Typically, you’d say 3/4, maybe 5 on a bad day, but if you were being honest, 4 meant 6 and 5 meant 9. If Hotch noticed that you were lying, he didn’t say anything. 

“Mm, 5.” You mumbled in response. 

He only nodded, making sure to keep his eyes forward. A few seconds pass, as if he’s debating if he should speak again. Eventually he does. “Are you sure?” His voice is tentative and soft now, “You’ve been controlling your breathing and clutching your side.”

You release your side in response and take a deep breath as if to prove a point, “I’m sure.”

Hotch doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive. When he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, he prevents you from opening your door. “Stop, I’ll get it.”

“Hotch, you really don’t need to-“ You were cut off by the sound of the driver side door shutting closed. When he makes his way around to the passenger side, you were looking at him disapprovingly. “I can open a door.” You mutter as he opens it and offers a hand.

“I’m certain you can.” Is all he says in response, not budging from his spot. With a small sigh and a suppressed smile, you take his hand and hop out of your seat.

You notice how close Hotch is to you, the way he’s put himself between you and the rest of the lot. It’s intimate in a strange way, his hand is still in yours even though you were fully stable now. Your heartbeat quickens in the way that it does when he’s near and you fidget.

Hotch probably noticed your behavior because he lets you go immediately, turning towards the trunk of the car that has your go-bag. He grabs it and starts walking with you to your door. You want to protest again, tell him that you were okay and capable of doing normal, everyday things like carrying your bag, but you decide against it. You know that nothing you say is going to change Hotch’s mind so you allow yourself the moment to enjoy his company. 

“I can handle it from here.” You say once you open your door and step inside. The apartment was fairly empty, save for the sparse furniture and fake plants that sat on your windowsills. As you move to grab your bag from Hotch, a sharp sting shoots up your right side and makes you still. “Ahhh,” You hiss in pain. 

“Y/N?” Hotch asks worriedly, holding his hands out for you to grab onto if you needed. “Are you alright?”

With your hands clutching onto him, you take a second to regain stability and test your breathing, “Mhm… sorry.” You let him go and decide to lean against the island counter in your kitchen instead, but he continues to hover. “It comes and goes.”

“Where’s the painkillers the hospital provided?” Hotch asks, setting down your bag on the counter next to you and rummaging through the side zippers. You don’t have a chance to respond before he finds them. “Here,” He says, as he drops two pills into his hand, “hold onto these, I’ll get some water.”

He hands them to you, and the warmth of his hand is comforting. You hold them and watch as he moves freely around your kitchen, searching for your glassware. It was strange, but not unpleasant, to see your boss inside your home moving around like he’s been here a hundred times. Almost domestic. You shook the thought from your head and took a seat in one of the barstools. Shortly after, Hotch slides over a glass of water across from you.

“Thanks.” You say and down the pills with a gulp of water.

Hotch is looking at you with an unreadable expression, it makes you shift in your seat and take a few more sips of water to distract yourself.

“You need rest and plenty of water…” Hotch trails off, like he wants to say more but doesn’t. Then, like he can’t take it anymore, he moves around the counter to be next to you. “I’m sorry.”

He’s so close again, even taller than usual since you’re sitting. You have to crane your neck to look up at him, his expression has softened from earlier. Confused by what he said you replied, “What are you sorry for?”

Hotch sighs a little, his jaw is tense. “I shouldn’t have sent you away.”

You didn’t know what to say at first, struck by the way he was acting. It was very unlike himself to display any sort of unprofessional behavior, and this was definitely not professional. You furrow your brows and hesitantly reach out to place your hand on his.

“You were doing your job. I shouldn’t have gone to the park, I knew the risks and did it anyway.” You say, trying your best to keep your beating heart under control at Hotch’s proximity.

He looked just past you, not meeting your eyes and shook his head, “I was worried I may never see you again.” Hotch seemed genuinely distraught at his own words, it made your gut twist in an unpleasant way.

“Hotch… Aaron.” The sound of his first name finally made him meet your eyes. You smiled up at him, “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.”

It felt tense in the room now, you were used to the team being all together, interrupting moments like these and pulling you back down to reality. But now it was just you and Hotch, and he wasn’t pulling away.

“I-“ Hotch starts, but a loud ringing cuts him off. He closes his eyes for a moment, obviously upset at the interruption, but he answers anyway. “Hotchner.” He pulls back and paces a few feet away from you.

You know that whatever was being said, it wasn’t good and by the look on Hotch’s face and the furrow of his brows, it was probably minutes before he’d be out the door. When he hung up, he looked over at you sympathetically. 

“Go on, boss. I’m good.” You say, trying to ease the stress that was evident in his frown.

Hotch’s hands twitch at his sides again and you make a mental note of it. He tends to do that when he’s considering his next move. Ultimately, he nods and strides to your front door, pausing when his hand lands on the doorknob.

“We’ll be in Pennsylvania. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.” Hotch says, regretfully.

“Can I call even if I don’t need anything?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He gives you one of his rare smiles, “Yes, Agent.”

-

Hotch left Y/N’s apartment with a mix of emotions. He wasn’t sure if she was truly alright. Mentally, maybe, the events with Mazdin didn’t seem to wreck her emotional state, she still joked and smiled at him which was a good sign. Physically, though, was another story. 

One of her tells that Hotch caught early on when she were hired was deflection. He’d ask if she was okay, she'd ask if he was. If she answered, it was quick, as if she were afraid to elaborate too much and make herself seem suspicious. He knew that she was in pain and afraid to show it in case it affected her return to the BAU.

Y/N’s fear was unwarranted, though. Hotch was counting down the days of her return despite knowing she needed time to heal. It was difficult to leave after having spent the last week checking in on her, keeping her company.

One day when he paced outside her hospital door, unable to stay still, Y/N called out his name. “Hotch, just come in, you’re stressing me out. And I need help changing the channel.” Her voice was still strained but he could tell she was smiling. It calmed his worries about intruding on her, and from that point on he didn’t linger outside as much. 

It was still difficult to see her covered in bruises and looking at him like he was the only person she wanted to see. Her black eye was getting better, the swelling had gone down considerably, but she had a dark ring underneath that was an ever-present reminder of what happened. The lines on her neck were barely starting to fade, still an angry-red color, and the bandages surrounding her torso hid the damage beneath, but Hotch knew that bruised ribs were serious injuries. Any time he thought about it, he felt a little sick.

After everything that he’s seen in the BAU, nothing compares to having a teammate go through something that traumatic. Regardless, Hotch knew that she was recovering. Even if it wasn’t at the hospital with trained professionals, he thought bitterly.

His phone rang again as he was driving towards the office, “Hotchner.”

“I had a thought.” Y/N’s voice rang out from his speaker and his frown softened a little.

“Yes?”

“I may not be able to be in the field, but if you send me the case files I can work on it from here.”

Hotch should’ve expected that one. With a shake of his head he responds, “You need to focus on getting better, not causing yourself stress.”

“No, you don’t get it. If I’m left alone with literally nothing to do for longer than 30 minutes, I’ll lose it.” Her voice was coming out rushed, he could tell she was either pacing or tapping her fingers nervously. The image made the corners of his mouth turn up a little.

A few seconds passed with silence, Hotch debating what the best thing to do was in this situation. “If you promise to take care of yourself… I’ll have Garcia send over the paperwork within the hour.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Y/N said excitedly. “Oh- also, I wanted to remind you of Reid’s birthday, it’s Friday.”

Hotch laughs at that, “Yes, I did actually remember.”

“Okay great, because I was thinking the team could get together that day and celebrate. Either at the bar or maybe Rossi’s since it’s bigger…” Y/N says, sounding like she’s just thinking out loud.

“I’ll discuss it with everyone, though you really shouldn’t be leaving your home-“

“Yeah, yeah I know but you only turn 29 once and I want to see Reid’s face when I give him his “Happy 30th Birthday” card.” She replies.

Hotch tries his best not to laugh and give her the satisfaction. “Well, in that case. I’ll get back to you about it.”

“Thanks Hotch.”

-

The week actually flies by, to your pleasant surprise. You were often sat on your couch, eating some type of take-out and going over victimology of the team’s case in Lancaster, PA. The unsub was a family annihilator, targeting middle-class families and spending extra time torturing the fathers.

Without being there, you were limited to your access of information, but frequent calls to and from Garcia kept you in the loop. Ultimately, you suggested to the team that the unsub was a father himself and most likely had his children taken away from him at some point.

Of course, you were trying to keep your promise to Hotch and taking care of yourself. That mostly meant drinking at least two cups of water a day and trying your best to fall asleep once the clock read 12:00 am. That second one didn’t work out as well.

Hotch knew that you weren’t sleeping again, given the times you had called him. Since there was no time change between Virginia and Pennsylvania, it was obvious that your insomnia had crept back.

A particular call one night left a bad feeling in your stomach. It was past 1:00 am already, but you knew Hotch would still be up, working. You were proven correct when he answered on the second ring, “Hotchner.”

“I was looking over the night that the Clarkson family was murdered and I noticed something off with the children’s position in the house-“

Hotch cut you off before you could finish, “Agent L/N, you need to go to sleep. Now.” His voice was curt and a little angry, you thought.

“Hotch, I will, but listen to me-“

“No. I’ve allowed you to work remotely under the assumption that you would be prioritizing your health. Now that I know that is not your intention, I’m relieving you of this case.”

For a moment, you were speechless. You winced from the pain in your ribs as you shifted your position at the dining table. “Hotch, I am prioritizing and I have been sleeping, it’s just later in the night.” 

“I will not allow you to continuously jeopardize yourself, if need be I can and will suspend you.” His voice was monotone as always, but you sensed irritation in it. 

“Fine.” Was all you said in response, quickly ending the call and slamming your phone down onto the table in front of you. You can’t remember the last time you were this angry at Hotch. Even though it came from a place of concern, he had no idea how much worse it was for you when you had nothing to preoccupy yourself with.

The nightmares returned very soon after the Mazdin incident. In fact, they were even worse. Before, the dreams would consist of you and the team on a typical case, trying to find an unsub before the clock runs out. You would see image after image of decapitated bodies, mutilated corpses, the faces of missing children. Every time it shook you so badly, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, involuntary tears in your eyes.

After your own kidnapping, you’d dream of that basement. How this must’ve been how all those other girls had felt, terrified that they would never see sunlight again, never hug those closest to them, never have the luxury of another boring day. You’d experience the pain of that night over and over and over again. The feel of the strangers fist connecting to your stomach, face, and ribs was so real, you could practically smell the musty air and taste the blood in your mouth. 

When you were in the hospital, hopped up on painkillers and connected to an IV, you had dreamless sleeps. They felt like temporary comas and you were aching to feel that again. You could feel Hotch next to you, holding your hand and talking but you never made out what was actually being said. It was perfect.

Now, back inside your own apartment alone yet again, not even a case to distract you, the thought of sleep petrified you. You made yourself coffee, did laundry, washed dishes, even cleaned out your closet at one point. Nothing could stop the inevitability of you closing your eyes and being transported back to that night.

You were told by Garcia that the team had caught the unsub just before he was able to take out the Williams family and they were flying back Thursday night. You were glad that everyone was safe and on their way home, but it hurt that you didn’t feel like you could even talk with Hotch now.

You wanted to call and check in on him since you knew how hard he took family annihilator cases. Still, you didn’t reach for your phone. You would be seeing them all tomorrow, anyways. It was decided by Reid that Rossi’s place would be better than any public outing, so the team had made a plan to meet there at 6:00 pm Friday night.

Throughout the year, you tended to buy things for the team. Small gifts, anything that stuck out to you that someone may like, and you kept them for birthdays and holidays. So when you came across a dusty antique bookstore during one of your cases in New York several months ago, you knew you had to look around. You found the most incredibly bound and gorgeous hardback copy of ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ by Oscar Wilde and just knew it’d make a great gift for boy-genius.

You also happened upon an old collection of classic vinyl records, with dozens of artists varying from Frank Sinatra to Harry Belafonte and you had to get it. Not for you, but you knew one very serious Unit Chief that loved oldies.

-

By the time that Friday morning rolled around, Hotch hadn’t spoken to Y/N in over 48 hours. It put him a little on edge, he was too used to seeing her every day, hearing her voice asking how he was. He knew it was his fault for snapping at her the way he did, but he couldn’t take another night of worrying about her. He had enough to deal with already.

She had called him at least twice a day every day that they were in Pennsylvania, offering some of her insight. It was welcome most of the time, especially after they’d hit a wall in their investigation. Y/N not being on the scene allowed for a unique outside perspective. But Hotch wasn’t going to allow her to compromise her health for the job.

He debated calling her several times and it just never happened. Either he would get busy or he’d rationalize that she didn’t want to hear from him, but they were all excuses. So he decided to bite the bullet and dial her number when he finally settled into his office that morning.

“L/N.” Was all she said when she finally picked up. Usually, when she noticed it was Hotch calling, she would answer the phone with a “Hey Boss” or some variation of it. The change made him look down at his desk with a frown.

“Hey…” Hotch said, completely forgetting the reason he had come up with for calling so early. “I wanted to check in with you, see how you were… will you be coming to Rossi’s tonight?” He scolds himself internally for sounding so unsure of himself.

“Well, yeah, I wouldn’t miss it.” She said as if it were obvious. He supposed it was, seeing as the get-together was her suggestion. “Was there anything else?” She asked after a minute.

Hotch wanted to ask what her pain level was, if she had actually slept since the last time they spoke, and quite a few other things, but instead he shook his head a little, “No. We’ll see you there.” He hung up quickly after that, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Several hours of paperwork later and Hotch was finally leaving for the day. He arrived at Rossi’s mansion at 5:50 pm, noticing that he was not the first. Morgan and Prentiss’ cars were both there, and he was relieved that Y/N hadn’t shown up just yet. He was still trying to figure out what he was going to say to her.

As he rung the doorbell, he could hear talking and laughing inside. “Answer that, would you?” Rossi’s voice could be heard echoing from the kitchen. A couple seconds later he heard footsteps and then Y/N was there, holding the door open.

She was stunning. Her usual work clothes were nice and complemented her, but Hotch had never seen her like this. She wore a mid-length, off the shoulder gown with long sleeves, it was black with a lace trim. Her makeup was done but it wasn’t a lot, he suspected it was to cover up the remaining discoloration from that night. Her hair was done in a different way that he’d never seen before, and she was so gorgeous.

It took a moment before Hotch could speak, “I brought wine.” He holds the bottle out to her and she takes it with a small smile and nod. As she walks away with it towards the kitchen and he follows, he thinks about what the hell was wrong with him. 

“Ahh, Aaron, this is perfect.” Rossi says as Y/N hands him the bottle of red. “Why don’t you all take a seat, the rest of the team is on their way and the food will be ready shortly.”

Morgan and Prentiss were hovering around the island counter, also dressed up in less than casual outfits.

“What’s up man?” Morgan asks as he makes his way over to Hotch, “Didn’t you bring a gift for wonder boy?”

“Spencer’s gift is all of the paperwork he does not have to do for the next three days.” He responds, shrugging off his blazer.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Prentiss says, “does that extend to the rest of the team?”

“What you guys get is his workload.” Hotch says with a growing smile.

A collective groan is heard as everyone takes their seats. Y/N is still in the kitchen, helping Rossi with kneading some type of dough. He tries not to glance over too often, but it’s hard not to. She’s laughing at something Rossi’s said and the smile on her face is infectious. 

Hotch notices how she’s still favoring her right side, moving only when she has to. Her breathing is controlled and her posture is purposefully casual. She’s certainly gotten better since the last time he’s seen her, but she’s not fully healed and he resists the urge to go speak to her about it.

“So, what’s for dinner?” Emily asks.

Y/N responds before Rossi can, “Burrata Caprese Gnocchi with balsamic bruschetta and garlic bread.” She shares a look with Rossi who smiles at her.

“Sounds amazing.” Emily says just as the doorbell rings.

JJ, Penelope, and Reid were all at the door, which Hotch answered this time, beating Y/N to it. 

“There’s the birthday boy!” Derek said, getting up to give Spencer a hug.

“I really don’t think the word ‘boy’ accurately describes my age anymore.” He replies, returning the hug a little hesitantly. 

“Ah, come on Spence, you’re still the second youngest agent in the team.” JJ says, pointedly looking at Y/N from where she still stood in the kitchen.

“Hey, I am not much younger than him.” She says defensively. Hotch smiles at the interaction.

“Well, regardless,” Penelope cuts in, taking Reid’s arm in hers, “you are still the residing genius of the BAU, myself excluded.”

“Well, thank you very much.” Hotch hears Spencer mutter as he’s dragged along to the dining room with everyone else.

Rossi commanded that everyone help set the table as the last bit of dinner was being prepared. Y/N was moving around seemingly effortlessly, stirring something in a pot and then pulling bread out of the oven. Hotch thought she looked very graceful, until she must’ve turned the wrong way and she stilled completely.

Y/N clutched the edge of the counter like she had back at her apartment last week and Hotch stopped passing plates around. He watched as she excused herself to the restroom and after a second of deliberating, he followed.

The light underneath the bathroom door was on and Hotch knocked on it lightly, “Y/N?” There was no response for a minute. “Hey, are you okay? Please open the door.”

Another few seconds went by with no sound and he was thinking maybe he should just go back to the dining room when the door unlocked and swung open a fraction. Hotch took that as an invitation to open it fully and walk in.

Y/N was leaning against the bathroom sink, hand on her side and eyes closed. “What do you need?” He asks, hands clenching at his sides, not sure if he should reach out and touch her.

“Um…” Her breath shakes slightly, “If you could, my bag has my medication, I left it out there.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” It took Hotch less than a minute to go out into the living area, find her bag with the painkillers and bring them back to the bathroom. He knocks twice before entering, “Here.”

“Thank you.” Y/N says, taking them with a mouthful of tap water.

“How’s the pain?” It’s a long shot that she’ll even continue speaking to him, but Hotch doesn’t feel like leaving her alone like this.

“Uh, a 6.” She looks at him finally, and his frown deepens. She’s never actually gone past 5, and he knew 5 was bad. “It’s okay, really, I think I just strained my side while cooking.”

Hotch nods, but he doesn’t feel reassured. “Well, I’ll help you to the table, and please don’t move again unless you have to.” He thinks that she wants to argue but that would take energy she doesn’t have, so she allows him to wrap an arm around her waist. She leans against him and he inhales her scent, it’s warm and sweet, like cinnamon he thinks.

If anyone noticed the way the two of them walked out together, no one said anything. The team wasn’t oblivious, they knew Y/N was in pain as well, and that she wouldn’t want to speak about it. Especially tonight when it was about celebrating a fellow teammate.

Hotch set her down in a seat directly next to him, his hand lingering where it had been a moment before. Rossi was passing around the main course and the conversation had been redirected to Spencer’s weekend plans.

“I’ll be in Vegas for the next couple days. I’ve been meaning to visit my mom but haven’t really had the time.” He says as he grabs two pieces of garlic bread.

“That’s nice.” Emily says, taking a sip of her wine. “I would rather be working than visit my mother on my birthday.”

“Cheers to that,” Rossi says, also taking a sip.

Everyone raises their glasses, Y/N included. Her face gives no indication that the movement bothers her at all. She takes a sip and rests the glass back down where she starts tapping nervously on it and Hotch knows the meds haven’t kicked in just yet.

“Time for gifts!” Penelope yells excitedly and claps her hands, getting up from her spot after everyone had finished with their meals.

Y/N makes a move to stand up, but Hotch catches her wrist before she can. He shakes his head and says, low enough so that no one else can hear, “Don’t even think about it.”

She gives him a look but doesn’t try to shift out of her seat again. His hand stays on her for a moment longer under the table and she doesn’t try to pull away.

“Well then, would you mind grabbing the gift I brought over on the counter?” Y/N practically whispers.

Hotch has to clear his throat before responding, “Of course.” He’s up in a second, already missing the warm contact. He locates the present with white wrapping paper that was covered in gold stars, attached to it was a card that said “You’re 30!” on the cover with a picture of an cartoon senior citizen underneath the text. The sight made him laugh under his breath.

“Open mine first, please.” JJ says, handing over a rather large bag to Reid.

As he grabs it, Hotch takes his spot back next to Y/N. Spencer is ripping out the tissue paper until he reaches the gift. He pulls it out with a gasp, “Ohhh no way.”

In his hands is a model replica of the USS Enterprise from Star Trek, and by the way he was holding it, it seemed fairly heavy. Hotch smiled at the Doctor’s reaction and noticed that Y/N did too. The corners of her eyes crinkled with her grin and he wanted to lean down, just a few inches so that he could come face-to-face with her. He thought about brushing her hair out of her face, behind her ear. He would tilt her head back until she couldn’t go any further, then lean down closer, closer…

Hotch was snapped out of his thoughts by Y/N’s voice. “That one’s from me and Aaron.”

He looked at Spencer, who had the gift in his hands. “I am not thirty years old.” He tossed the offending card down onto the table and the sound of laughter filled the room from everyone.

“Is there something wrong with being thirty?” Derek asks, feigning offense.

“No, I’m just stating the fact that I am not actually thirty years old, I have another 364 days before I reach that milestone, in fact-“

“Just open the present!” Emily says, laughing.

“Okay.” Reid does as he’s told and unfolds the wrapping paper carefully. When he’s done, a hardcover book lays in his hands, but Hotch can’t make out the title. It seemed to make Spencer very happy though, if his widening smile was any indication. “Where did you find this!”

“New York, that case where we were snowed into our hotel and couldn’t leave for an extra week. Gave us time to look around.” Y/N said, making brief eye contact with Hotch. She was keeping up the ruse that he had helped in picking out Reid’s gift.

“You know, out of all of Oscar Wilde’s books, I’ve read this one the most,” Finally Hotch could make out the title ‘The Importance of Being Earnest,’ “it’s actually very short but it’s masterfully done, almost no other author compares from this century.”

“You’ve mentioned it a few times.” Y/N says.

“Thank you both, very much. This is great.” Spencer replies. 

Hotch tries not to look at her again, he’s not sure what he’ll do if he does. His professional nature was slipping with each sip of wine.

Another few minutes of Reid opening gifts goes by and they were all very thoughtful. Rossi gave him a new suit jacket, Italian made of course. From Garcia, he received several doctor who related items including the full series on blue-ray. Emily got him an iPod, mostly so that he would stop playing his music out loud on long car rides, she explained. Lastly, Derek stated that his friendship was gift enough. Though, later Hotch discovered Morgan had already given Reid a certificate for an all-expenses paid stay at a resort in the Bahamas which was run by a good friend of his.

The night ended on a good note, everyone was buzzed and in deep conversation. Hotch never left Y/N’s side. She seemed to be doing significantly better than earlier, no longer wincing at every move and engaging with the teams banter.

As everyone started to trickle out, Hotch turned towards her. “Do you need a ride?” He hadn’t noticed her car when he got here and it was unlikely that she could drive home in her state anyway.

“Oh, Emily drove me-“ Y/N said, looking around for their friend, who was nowhere to be found.

“I don’t mind, your apartment’s on the way.” Hotch replied, hoping she would say yes. He needed just a few more minutes with her. She looked up at him like she was debating it, eventually pursing her lips and nodding.

“Okay, thank you.”

The two of them said their goodbyes to those remaining, Y/N gave Spencer a hug and wished him Happy Birthday once more before they made their way outside towards Hotch’s car.

Hotch made sure to keep an eye on the way she moved, ready to support her if she needed, but it was unnecessary, she seemed to be fine. He made his way over to the passenger side door and opened it swiftly.

Y/N laughs a little, “Such a gentleman.”

Hotch smiles back and closes the door after she’s settled. Once they’re on the road, he remembers everything that he’s been meaning to say.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” He says lightheartedly.

“Do what?” She asks with that little crease between her brows. His hand tightened around the steering wheel just slightly.

“The gift for Spencer. I had no idea about it.”

“Oh, right… Well the no paperwork thing was nice. I know he appreciates it.” She says with a smile. This is torture, Hotch thinks. She’s so close to him, literally less than a foot but he can’t do anything. 

“About the phone call-“

“Hotch, don’t, I already know.” Y/N says, as if she was expecting this conversation all night. “I know I still have five days until my evaluation and if tonight was any indication, I’m still not really to be in the field yet.”

He was glad that she knew that, at least. But his intention wasn’t to scold her all the way back to her home, “Y/N, please let me… I didn’t mean to insinuate that your help wasn’t appreciated on this last case, it was.” She doesn’t say anything in response, just looks over at him with questioning eyes. “I need you to know that everything I do, everything, is for the well-being of this team.”

“I know that, Hotch-“

“Then you know that I would do anything for you.” He cuts her off, but doesn’t take take his eyes off the road, even for a second.

The tension in the car feels high, but Hotch can’t tell if only he can feel it. The seconds that go by without Y/N’s response is agonizing.

“I do know that.” Her voice is softer, almost far away. “And I would do anything for you.”

The words make his shoulder’s slump in relief, he dares to glance her way. She’s looking at him in a way he’s never seen before, a little sad maybe, but smiling. He’s tempted to pull the car over to the side of the road for a few minutes.

“You just passed my place.” Y/N says then.

“I know.”

[sanslovesblog]

Unraveling Madness: San's Dark Secrets Pt. 2

Summary: You're a brilliant psychiatrist, but you were no stranger to internal conflicts. You had accepted the task of treating Choi San, the psychiatric ward's most dangerous patient due to his violent episodes. Despite skepticism from other staff members, you believed that beneath his destructive exterior lay a vulnerable human being, yearning for understanding and acceptance.

Trigger warning: mentions of harming others, self harm, trauma

Teaser | Master list | Part 3

As Dr. Y/n entered the therapy room, she noticed Choi San sitting in one of the armchairs, his gaze fixed on the door. The air was heavy with anticipation, and she knew that today would be different. She closed the door behind her, the sound echoing through the room like a silent declaration of intent.

"Today, we're going to talk about something new," she began, taking a seat opposite him. "We're going to explore your past traumas, the events that shaped you into the person you are today."

Choi San stared at her, his face a stoic mask hiding his innermost feelings. "Why do you care so much? Everyone else has given up on me. Why should you be any different?"

Dr. Y/n paused, considering her response carefully. "Because I believe there's more to you than just the violence. I see a complex individual struggling to cope with their past." She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "It's my hope that together, we can uncover the root causes of your pain and find a way to heal them."

Choi San studied her carefully, his expression guarded but hinting at vulnerability. "You really think you can make a difference?" He asked quietly, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," she replied firmly, her resolve unwavering.

"I truly believe that we can make a difference in your life. But it all depends on you – whether you're willing to trust me enough to share your deepest fears and pains."

Choi San watched her closely, his eyes tracing every subtle movement of her face. There was something in her gaze that resonated within him, stirring long-dormant feelings of connection and understanding. It wasn't pity or sympathy he saw reflected in her eyes, but genuine empathy and a desire to help. And somehow, that small glimmer of hope reassured him that perhaps things could change.

You continued to delve deeper int Choi San's childhood, hoping to uncover more about the root causes of his violent behavior. "What's your relationship with your parents?" You asked him. Choi San hesitated for a moment before describing his father as a strict and demanding man who expected nothing short of perfection from him. "My father would often physically abuse me if I didn't meet his standards, leaving me with bruises and scars" he said looking down, clenching his fists as his voice cracks with emotion.

Despite this, Choi San still felt a sense of loyalty and duty towards his father, as if he were the only one who truly understood him. As the sessions progressed, you began to see a pattern in the way Choi San dealt with his emotions. He would internalize his pain and anger, often taking it out on himself in the form of self-harm. "Instead of harming yourself, let's try a different approach" you added. You decided to approach the subject differently. Instead of focusing on the negative aspects of his past, you encouraged Choi San to express his emotions through art therapy.

You gave him a set of paints, canvas, and other art supplies, and asked him to create something that represented how he felt inside. At first, Choi San was skeptical, but as he began to paint, he found himself pouring all of his anger and sadness onto the canvas. The more he painted, the more cathartic the experience became.

[panda-writing]

Fives Lives: Bad Batch Pilot Episode AU

Dividers by: @ saradika @ freesia-writes / @ lornaka

Note: So it got kinda long...

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Content Warnings: death mention, mention of medical procedures/experiments, loss, imprisonment, lack of sleep/exhaustion, mention or reprogramming aka messing with mind. (I think that's all of them)

~~⚄~~⚄~~⚄~~⚄~~⚄~~ ~~⚄~~⚄~~⚄~~⚄~~⚄~~

The sound of the blaster went off.

He felt the searing pain of being shot as he looked at the hole in his chestplate

Falling to the ground...

Getting shot.

Dying.

That was the easy part. Why was that the easy part?

Maybe because everything after that made it harder..

He at least thought he had. If what he had felt wasn't dying.. He wasn't sure what was.

"Call for help! We need a medic!"

He remembered what, at the time he was certain was death as he grew weaker and weaker as his ori'vod help him in his arms.

"Stay with me Fives. Fives!"

He heard Rex beg for his life as he was fighting the urge to pass out. He remembered as Rex clung to his body.

He looked into the face of Commander Fox. "Don't do it trooper! Don't do it!"

He panicked. He couldn't let Palatine kill him before the truth got out.

His Vod shot him down. Quickly.

Now.. He had the feeling that Fox was under orders. The chip.

She drugged him. He wouldn't have ever done that if she hadn't drugged him. To this moment he was filled with regrets.

He woke up. The recent events, fresh on his mind.

Wait... How long had it been?

Wearing the blacks. His wound healed almost..

A brief sense of security until his mind came into focus. He lay on a medical table.

Kamino.

Ever since he woke up... It was constant experiments, it felt like... Done by Nala Se, mainly. Or spending the day in a cell.

He enjoyed the cell more.

How long had he been here? Every day was the same. It was moments like these he had to wonder if being killed on Umbara would've been better. At least then, it was because he did his duty.

The nightmares started.

Not too long after the first day he remembered. The experiments. The poking and prodding.. It now just freaked him out.

There was no comfort in any of this.

He was the last of his batch, surely they expected better of him.

He had been. He did the right thing. But now.. All he was seen as was the clone that went rogue then insane and tried to murder their political leader... Despite what the truth really was.

He had suspicions Nala Se enjoyed the suffering this caused him. Her anger and disdain as he tried to uncover the truth before his 'death' the drugging.. He almost undermined her. And the Kaminoans, they wouldn't like that much. Was this his payback?

The nightmares still went strong. Constantly reliving the death of Echo, his twin... The massacre on Umbara.. How he had been hunted down like a terrorist. And how no one believed a word he said.

He had a break once. It lasted for a little while... Until Nala Se found out about it. It was a research assistant to her. A sister. Omega.

She would come in often. And they just talked about anything. He'd tell her about the war if she asked. She'd tell him about her day.

But eventually he was moved somewhere else in the cloning facility. And then the visits stopped.

He knew when the war ended. And it was more than just the feeling he got

He noticed the shock troopers passing through. And then he noticed clones occasionally moving past his cell, now Shock troopers on duty.

He knew.

He had been right about the fears plaguing his mind. Now that he wasn't completely kept from everything and everyone.. He assumed this meant the worst.

They didn't consider what he knew a threat anymore. He had lost.

He noticed the difference in the troopers around him. They were all under control of those chips and there was nothing he could do to save them...

They weren't completely robotic it seemed. As they had things to say about him. The shock troopers knew who he was. Some of them might've been in the group that was sent to kill or arrest him. There was no real way of telling.

For Rex.. He hoped he had either been able to stop what was happening, get out of that situation... Or have died before his free will was taken like everyone else.

The clones around him made their opinions known. The words hurting more than before.

"Defect."

"Bad Batcher."

Back in his domino days. They had also called him and his batchmates bad batchers at times.

But this was different. Maybe because the implications were steeper now. Now he was looked at as a traitor instead of the soldier he once was. Every day he spent fighting for the republic... Washed away just like that. Forgotten.

The troopers guarding his cell were talking some shit. Not like the rogue clone was ever gonna escape, right?

Or maybe they just didn't care he was right there, thinking even less of him.

"I heard they're gonna be messing in his head to try and fix the crazy."

"They'll ship him out to some top secret research facility."

"If it works they'll put him back on the line of duty."

"If not Tarkin'll order him decommissioned or killed, I bet."

"If he wants to live he'd better shape up-"

Suddenly their comms beeped.

"Clone force 99 has escaped, we're supposed to meet up with CT-9904 to cut off their escape!"

They grabbed their weapons before running out of the room.

He had to wonder about this Clone Force 99. If they were going after them.. Maybe they had went against the Chancellor too.

If this was the case he hoped they actually escaped instead of being stuck in a situation much like his own.

On a side upfront.. He looked ahead at his ARC gear. It had been saved. Before he didn't understand why.. But now he had.

It usually served as a little... Miniscule sort of comfort. It was his past and the only thing he had ever truly owned. It was the armor he painted alongside his twin.

A reminder of how he made it to ARC Trooper. The dream they all shared, butost hadn't gotten to see... So he promised himself he'd live it for them. He had to get out of here one day...

When they tried to move him, he was gonna fight like haran. For his squad.. And for all of his brothers.

He had tried to escape, fight his way out many times. The cell fought him back, making him weaker than when he first attempted it.

He was leaning against the bottom wall of his cell. His head was tilted back, he was trying to rest some from all of the exhaustion. His knees against his chest, and his arms crossed around them.

Suddenly he heard voices near the door of the room. The Shock troopers had forgotten to shut it.

"Normally we wouldn't even consider sticking our neck out for a reg like this... But I hear he's a special case."

"They also said he went against order 66, but that seems unlikely because according to records.. he's been here a while."

"I heard shock troopers talking about reprogramming him. When we were in the cell."

"If we don't get him out..."

"We'd better hurry if we're gonna get him out and back to the ship before the shocks find us."

They walked in. He could tell they were clones, but they definitely didn't look like any he knew.

One had goggles and the other was even more different. His arm was a scomp link and he had ports in his head along with a pale ish skin tone.

He took notice of them. They weren't wearing their armor, but instead they were in their blacks.

These must've been the escaped clones the shock troopers were talking about.. He had also been in his, that was standard as a Kaminoan Prisoner.

He took notice as the pale one walked in slowly, to a stop.. his eyes were fixated on something. Fives turned his head, and noticed him looking at his armor intently.

The one in googles was looking at something on a datapad. Then suddenly he looked between the other one and himself, a look of realization..? was crossing his face.

Was the pale one.. from the 501st? Did he recognize him? He seemed in disbelief upon looking at his armor. Stopping in his tracks.

The clone wearing goggles noticed the distraction and tapped the pale one on the shoulder.

"I understand this might be a complicated situation for you. But you must remain focused if all of us are to leave alive."

"I.. Yeah I got it. Just this belonged to... Nevermind. We better hurry."

"You'll have to scomp in. Once we break him out, they'll know if we don't divert their attention. He appears to be on high priority."

They rushed to a terminal, center room.

One typed away ferviously as the one beside him, plugged in and twisted against the gears with the scomp in his arm.

"Got it Tech."

Tech pressed a button.

"We don't have a lot of time. If you want to get out without your brain being reconstructed, you'll need to grab your things and push on."

Fives hopped to his feet, though the exhaustion all over his body was still evident. He moved over to his old gear.

"Hey, uh thanks for saving me. Haven't been out for a while." He was placing the armor plates over his blacks.

"It's what we do.. And really no one deserves to be stuck like that." The pale one said before turning around.

He was in shock, staggering backwards despite his mechanical limbs.

Fives sent a glance upwards after securing his kama.

He looked at the trooper ahead of him. Something felt familiar... Then he looked at his eyes.

He held his breath..

He didn't move, looking ahead.

Echo

He didn't blink, scared he was hallucinating it all.

Scared he would just disappear...

Tech noticed the silence, he knew why. He could understand it from a psychological standpoint.. But they had more pressing concerns.

"We are running out of time. Hunter can't wait on us forever when everyone on Kamino will be looking for us."

Fives shook his head, to snap out of it. It took Echo a little longer to regain focus at first, but he did. They were soldiers.. It's what was required of them.

"Right." Fives finished securing his armor and placed his helmet on his head.

He never thought he'd wear it again. He never thought he'd see Echo again either... The day was full of surprises. Despite the overall horrible... This was good. Though he did feel guilty for thinking it.

"Got a blaster Echo?"

"Back with our gear in the hangar bay."

Fives tossed one of his DC-17s to his vod'ika. Echo caught it.

Tech pressed a button on the datapad.

"Now we move. The cell's alarm is triggered."

They rushed out, hoping to make it back before Crosshair realized they were missing.

Upon reaching the hangar, Echo handed Fives back his blaster before moving to the trunks of gear to find his own.

"Fives?" Omega said surprised as she saw him. She hasn't seen him in months. She wasn't even sure he was still here.

"Yeah kid, it's me. It's good to see you."

She hugged him from the side as batch 99 started and finished grabbing their gear. He returned the hug briefly. Echo and Hunter looked over at them curiously.

"Haven't seen Crosshair over here yet." Hunter finished gearing up.

"Omega, keep with Echo and The Reg..."

Fives moved next to Echo and the crate he had just finished grabbing from.

"Tech, get the ship fired up, we might need a quick escape."

Tech nodded and moved for the ship, readying it.

"And Wrecker, with me. We're finding Crosshair."

"You've got it Sarge."

Omega picked up Wrecker's Lula. As she stood on her feet, she noticed the bay doors.

"I think he had the same idea." Omega said pointing to the bay doors, as they slowly opened.

Fives set his blasters to stun as he ducked behind the crate with Echo. The others also ducked.

A squad of shock troopers came rushing in, their carbines were pointed in their direction.

Crosshair carried a sniper rifle as he walked in.

Hunter stood up, walking to the center as he looked at Crosshair.

Wrecker, Echo and Fives peered over their crates.

"Is that...Crosshair?"

Crosshair stared ahead at Fives, but quickly returned his attention to Hunter.

"Best surrender. Sargeant."

"Turn in the reg. Make it...easy on yourself."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Hunter exclaimed

"We should've killed that Jedi. You disobeyed orders."

"I did what I thought was right!" He defended

"How's that working out for you? Now you're throwing in with a reg, a traitorous one at that and... A kid?"

"Now Surrender."

Hunter looked back at the men. Wrecker put his helmet on his head and readied his weapon. Echo was aiming, and the ARC Trooper nodded his head as he took aim.

He returned his look to Crosshair. "Is that an order?"

Crosshair smirked. "Heh. I guess it is."

"Well.. I guess I'm disobeying that one too."

The tension was high as soldiers stared upon each other, daring the other to make the first move.

The silence. Loud.

Crosshair's expression narrowed, his finger inched closely on the trigger of his hand held pistol and sniper rifle.

Then he fired a shot.

Hunter ducked in time and it had hit the side of the ship.

It was quick to become a firefight.

In the end, the batch escaped mainly unscathed, except for Wrecker who had been shot by Crosshair.

Echo was currently tending to him. And this was giving Fives the entire world time to think.

But thinking.. Was all he had since he was in that cell. He was tired of thinking.

Omega had shot the blasters out of Crosshair's hands. It was a very impressive feat for an untrained clone.

Hunter walked over to Fives. Even Tech would easily read that which appeared all over his face.

"Uh thanks... For covering us back there." He started an awkward conversation.

"It's what we do.." He said a hazy focus.

"What's on your mind uh...-"

"Fives."

Hunter chuckled briefly.

"What is it?"

"ARC-5555?" He looked up at his 5 tattoo after he spoke.

"Uh yeah?"

"That's a little on the nose, isn't it?"

"Says the guy who has batchmates named Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker." Fives

Okay, he had him there.

"So... Uh.. Heard you tried to kill the Chancellor.."

"That's just the version clones were told about me. Because the truth... Would've stopped this from ever happening."

Fives held his palm against the side wall as he sighed.

"You mean order 66?"

"It was much worse... But that was a big part of it."

He looked back at Echo, fending off Wrecker who complained about the medical attention.

"It's why they pushed the crazy clone narrative so hard. Because if I appeared insane... No one would believe me."

"And it worked."

"They expect all of us to be unthinking droids... To follow every order without a single question? But.. That's not who I am. They weren't expecting it, I suppose."

"They weren't prepared for me to investigate when things were clearly not right... It was unsettling to them. They had to take the nuclear option to protect the skeletons in their closets."

"You defied their 'programming?' too?" Hunter asked

"Good soldiers follow orders.. But the best ones know when not to." Fives said

"That type of thinking usually gets you labelled as a defect."

"Eh, I'm used to it. My squad and I, we've been hearing that one since were cadets." Fives said

"Maybe they were right. But I figure the way things are going, that's how you know you're in the right."

"Conforming to the standards of the rest.. They are basically unthinking droids. I wouldn't want that either."

"You know you might be stuck with us for a while, considering the move we just made." Hunter said

"You're all brothers. It's more than I had back when I was imprisoned on Kamino."

"And you don't care that we're not.. Well, regs?" Hunter asked

"Why should I care about that?"

"Don't examine me! I'm not a computer!" They heard Wrecker yell out.

They looked over at him, diverting their attention.

"This will just take a second."

Hunter uncrossed his arms, he glanced at Fives before they began to walk over.

"Get that thing away from me!"

Echo looked past, seeing Fives again. Well... Now was as good of a time to address this as any.

Fives looked over at him. There was a sigh in relief.

Omega silently observed them. Having already known they were batch mates.

Wrecker, Tech and Hunter were busy talking about Cross hair, until they realized Echo wasn't part of the conversation. He walked over to Fives.

"Did you miss me?" Echo asked, breaking the long silence as he reached his twin's location.

Fives didn't say anything as he quickly pulled him into a tight hug.

Echo took a breath, returning the hug with his one good arm.

"It's really you... I can't believe it."

They caught the attention of the others, the only ones not appearing to be confused were Tech and Omega.

"I'm so sorry.. I never should have-"

"It's not your fault. I never blamed you." Echo said

"I left you.."

"No. You followed orders."

"Look where following orders has gotten clones." He sighed, blame on himself...

"What happened?" They asked at the same time after a silence.

They let go finally.

"Fives.. Rex told me you were killed. In fact you're listed as legally dead."

"How are you-"

"I don't know. There's.. things I just don't remember." He was honest, his mind was hazy at times

"You recognized me back on Kamino. Before anyone else ever called me Echo."

"Like I would ever not recognize you Ech'ika?"

"What.. Happened.. After.. You know." Fives said

"I take it they used to know each other." Hunter said off hand

"I would certainly hope so, being batchmates and all." Tech replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

"What?" Hunter asked

His eyes were glued to the datapad.

"CT-27-5555 and CT-1409 were the last remaining members of Domino Squad, both making it to ARC Trooper status shortly after helping The Republic take a win during the Battle of Kamino. Report by Taun We.."

"Domino Squad consisted of members Hevy, Cutup, Droid-Bait, Echo and Fives. Three of the Five were killed on their first mission at the Rishi Moon outpost. Echo and Fives were the last remaining, and were requested for the 501st legion by Captain Rex."

"Echo was seemingly killed by an explosion at the citadel rescue, leaving Fives as the last remaining Domino before the parasite turned him crazy, resulting in his death by blaster, Commander Fox."

"I have recently been informed that Echo survived the blast, and was taken captive by the Techno Union. Later joining with Clone Force 99. Report taken by General Shaak Ti."

"So you mean they're from the same squad?" Wrecker asked

"That is what I just said."

"Can they read each other's minds?" Omega asked

"What do you mean?" Hunter asked

"They keep giving each other looks without talking and look like they're having a conversation." Omega said

"Maybe they have telepathy!" Wrecker said

"I highly doubt that as a possibility." Tech said

The Domino Twins walked over together after finishing their conversation. Echo came by to check on Wrecker. And Fives briefly spoke with Tech as Hunter spoke up to Omega.

"Impressive shot back there." Hunter looked to Omega

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I don't know.  I never fired a blaster before."

"I guess I just got lucky."

The attention of the others was diverted to the conversation when Echo spoke up.

"She's not the only one." He moved Wrecker up.

"I'm fine. It'll take more than a blaster shot to take me down." Wrecker said

"You were down." Echo reminds him.

"Yeah, well.. Not for long!" He laughed out loud, playfully punching Echo in the arm.

He groaned in pain shortly after.

"So uh.. Where are we gonna go now? Not exactly a lot of places for clone deserters and a clone traitor." Fives asked Hunter

"I thought we could go off on our own. Lay low."

"But with Crosshair gunning for us, I'm not so sure." Hunter was thinking

"What about your friends?  Can any of them help us?" Omega asks

"That would be a short list.." Tech said

"Well.. I can think of one. Plot a course for J-19." Hunter said

Tech nodded his head and set the Navi computer.

"J-19?" The twins spoke up at the same time.

"We know a guy."

The ship was silent.

Wrecker and Omega were huddled up together, asleep.

Tech was flying the ship through hyperspace.

Fives and Echo were sitting next to one another. Fives rubbed his eyes, he still tried hiding how tired he really was.

"Fives. Get some sleep. Even those two are asleep by now." He motioned towards Omega and Wrecker.

"I'm not tired."

Echo scoffed. How dumb did this fool think he was?

"Did you by chance forget who you tried that with just now?" Echo was a little snarky

"Or did you perhaps think I somehow don't know you anymore?"

"I'm the one person who has always known you and will always know you."

Fives looked down at the floor. And Echo put his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, what's going on?"

He didn't want to bring it up.

"I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"We haven't seen each other since the Citadel before today. And the first problem you're having.. You don't even want to talk about it?"

"I have my reasons." He responded

"They all- look.."

"You're right. We did just get each other back. And that's exactly why I don't want to ruin that with this."

"Talk to me."

It was easy to slip back into old habits with Echo around. Of course.. Things were somehow harder now than it had been.. But there were a few things in this moment that did feel the same.

"Well uh...I don't sleep...really. Not anymore."

"Things have gotten worse the longer I was there."

"I just can't take it... It's all the nightmares. They just.."

"Everytime I sleep.. I'm reliving it."

"I only sleep when I absolutely have to. Maybe 2 times a week."

"Things are different now.. They've been difficult for a while." Echo said

"We never really seem to catch a break,  do we?"

"No.. We really don't." Fives responded

"Except this time." Echo said

"After every horrible thing that's happened this last... Well since the Empire. It brought back our best way to fight through these things. Being together."

"As long as we live.. We're still batchmates. And you're still my twin. Though I might not exactly look the part anymore."

The joke resulted in a chuckle from the pair as they made eye contact.

"Try and sleep. I'll be right here the whole time." He promised.

"We're going to get through this eventually."

"You know after everything... It did nothing. The warning. No one believed me and no one was saved." Fives sighed.

"It might have."

"Do you think it's ever gonna be okay?" Fives asked

"I know.. We're clones. We were made for being soldiers.."

"But this brings back the fear.. What are they going to do to our brothers now that the war is over?"

"I don't know Ori'vod.. But we are going to save who we can."

Fives rested his head on Echo's shoulder.

"If they could see us now.. I hope they'd be proud." Echo said

"They would." Fives answered

[legendl0re]

A Court of Peace and Ire: Chapter 4: Repaying A Debt

Rhysand visits Tamlin, demanding answers and hurling threats about his son, and the fateful clash of two High Lords finally unfolds.

Notes:

Rhys vs. Tam fight scene as well as arguments to bring forward the crux of Tamsand’s relationship. Lots of angst but I swear the healing is coming xD

Trigger Warnings: Violence, Slight Gore, Fight Scenes, Emotional Angst, References to SA, Ideation of one’s death, Acceptance of death

WARNING: The fight isn’t as bombastic as it may be in canon for two reasons imo:

1) Tamlin has not been using his powers so they are much less refined than if he was using them every day.

2) Rhysand lost a great deal of his own power when he died.

That and also I didn’t want Prythian to be destroyed by their fight, which according to SJM, would be the case.

——

Tamlin felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of his temple as his magic swept glass off the floor, carefully shaping it back to a flat plane and nestling tight into the window frame. This morning, he awoke with the gift of the slightest motivation—a desire to fix some pieces of the manor to make it less broken, less dangerous.

Stepping on splinters and broken glass was nothing for a High Lord—one of his many small enduring punishments—but for a child through?

Tamlin shook his head, trying not to think about it. Replacing his wards was the first thing he had done; a starting measure in case that boy ever attempted to winnow back in again. But if that blonde’s snatching of Feyre was any indication, it probably was for naught.

He had little practice with abjuring magic, since he could always just be present to protect those he wished to defend, before he became High Lord.

“A warrior has little use for wards,” his father always said. “Why bother wasting energy with needless shields rather than saving it for the fight to come? If any are so brazen to approach Spring with killing intent, our power shall sharpen to claws to rip them apart, and nothing else.”

His father was a fool, a bloodthirsty fool whose shortsightedness left Tamlin with nothing, save the burden of a responsibility he had never wanted nor trained for.

As he released the arcane hold a breath shot away from him; he really had been out of practice with his powers, surprised to still be able to perform something as involved as reforging glass from hundreds of shards.

Like any weak muscle, he would have to work at it, but he took a moment to admire what he had done, how the window looked pristine as if it had never been shattered to pieces by one of his episodes.

Even though the rage felt like a distant memory, he knew in truth. It was lingering, slithering within his bones and lying in wait. Isolating himself was the only way to protect everyone from its lashing out, from the moments his anger took the reins and tore into the world with his magic.

It had gotten so much worse since his time Under the Mountain, every day a struggle to keep that gaping pit inside him from stretching farther and farther, threatening to consume him along with everything else it could get its hands on.

All because of her.

That hateful, murderous, predatory woman whose malice scarred Prythian even years after he had torn her to pieces…

Torn himself to pieces.

Tamlin shook his head; no sense in dwelling on broken bonds. Wood splinters groaned as his magic pieced them back together, gathering to reform one of the many structural pillars that struggled to bear the manor’s weight.

The High Lord then took a rest, sitting at the top of the steps by the double doors that led to the courtyard. It may have just been the foyer and the entryway, but the progress he had made fixing everything let the weight in his chest lighten just a little. A lone bookshelf, two love seats, and solid, uncracked floorboards were the few, minute details that he had gotten too, but tomorrow he would tackle the stairs and the frayed, broken banisters that flanked them.

Maybe he’d get far enough to see his own bedroom again—perhaps even sleep in it.

Tamlin rolled his sleeves down, thinking about the conversation he had with Feyre’s sister at the border, how much less vicious and vengeful she was compared to the past.

Having eavesdropped a bit on the discussion before making himself known, it seemed the Night Court was keen to keep favor with Eris in preparation for his eventual ascension as High Lord; the eldest Archeron serving as the lure.

Given she had cut the King of Hybern’s head off, she didn’t seem the type to seduce or cajole for the sake of anybody except herself. Yet now she was mated to Rhys’ war general while also serving as a carrot on a stick for Lucien’s disdainful brother?

What was going on there? No mated fae would ever even consider sharing their mate with anyone, even playfully. Eris had already suffered the wrath of one of the Night Court’s Illyrian brutes; why tempt the other one?

Tamlin stood up and shrugged off his pondering. The Night Court was beyond welcome to any inconvenience, and frankly, he had better things to do than waste any further thought on it.

If only the feeling were mutual.

The windows shuddered, then splintered apart, the fresh pane once again scattered on the floor as shadows burst through and coalesced into a familiar, dreadful shape. Tamlin however, gave no notice to the darkness, just staring blankly at the shards at his feet, and the reflection of his eyes within them.

He had long been past sitting in the anger that Rhysand’s presence evoked, instead opting for the small, comforting mantra that allowed him to mentally prepare himself for what was to come.

You did the right thing. You bought him back, and he will never forget it.

“Talk. Now.” Huh. Not even a hello or feigned attempt at cordiality; straight to the venom.

“I just fixed these windows.” Tamlin replied, still not meeting Rhysand’s eyes.

“I don’t give a damn about your windows.” The High Lord’s shadow coiled over, but even as his lethal cerulean gaze took over Tamlin’s in the broken glass below, the lord of Spring didn’t turn up. “Why was my son here?”

“I’d say “perhaps you should ask him,” Tamlin muttered, finally meeting the stare, “But he doesn’t seem to be at the talking stage yet. Perhaps you should keep better track of your things.” Rhys’ hand knotted around Tamlin’s collar, jerking him to a stand.

“That’s. My son.” Every word was laced with a promise of death, Rhys’ mouth twitching as he bared his teeth. “If you ever-“

“If I ever what, Rhys?” Tamlin barked back, swiping away Rhys’ grip. “I seem to recall only one of us has a history of mutilating children. So you can keep all of your paternal bloodlust and save it for the Illyrians.” Rhys looked confused at that. “Oh, you intend to spare Nyx the wonderful experience of breaking atop the mountain?”

Tamlin felt a single hint of regret as Rhys’ pupils cut down to slits.

“He won’t know that life.” He hissed coldly.

“That your decision, or the High Lady’s?” They were mere inches from one another now, Rhys’ shadows nearly thundering while Tamlin felt the claws stir within his hands. “You have a lot of nerve coming here and badgering me about visits I don’t even want, especially considering how many times I keep catching your oaf-general and his mate.” Rhys laughed, the sound brimming with disdain.

“Finally found a bit of nerve, Tamlin? You never had the gall to insult my brother to my face before.” Tamlin huffed a soft breath, eyes rolling.

“No nerve, Rhys. Just a lack of interest in whatever you have to say, and an ever-growing wish for you to leave me the hell alone.” Tamlin pushed past Rhys, unsure of where he was even going. He just had to get away from him, had to remove himself from the stirring in his chest, the rushing in his head. The High Lord of the Night Court was furious; utterly thirsting for a fight and willing to say anything, touch any nerve he could to get it.

“My son comes here by accident, and suddenly you’re tidying this place up.” Rhys’ hands found their way into his pockets. “Peculiar, isn’t it?”

Tamlin paused. Shit.

“I told him to never come here again. So if I see, if I hear that he is here a second time, I will hold you personally responsible.” Tamlin’s hand gripped the edge of the doorway, wood whining as his nails latched into it.

Enough, goddamnit. Enough!

“Sure.” The High Lord of Spring crooned, head coiling back like a serpent. If Rhys’ words had so much venom, it was only fair that Tamlin shared some of his own. “I’ll be sure to ward up my mansion so the next time he winnows here, he bounces right off and finds himself outside with the naga. I’m sure he’ll be a nice snack.”

Rhys took a step, the shadows of the room drawing back to gather deep within him.

Preparations for the inevitable.

Tamlin turned to face him in full, complete acceptance of what was to come filling his heart.

Ever since the day Rhys and his father cursed him to rule this Court, he knew things between them would only end one way.

“Your son ever comes here again, do well to remember that I’m the only thing standing between him and oblivion, so perhaps you should be thanking me for sending him home, fed and warm.” Rhys continued laughing, as if ignoring every single word Tamlin had said.

“You know. I never did repay you for your words at the High Lord’s meeting. About Feyre.” Regret would have given the high fae a slight chill, had fury not boiled it all away.

“No. You didn’t. And I haven’t repaid you for letting your father open my mother’s throat, or Feyre for setting my court aflame. There’s many things that haven't been repaid, so be mindful of the debts you owe.”

Tamlin didn't’ realize what he had said until it left his lips, and Rhys’ smile vanished entirely.

“What did you just say?” He whispered, a wrathful shudder as he inclined his head.

Tamlin felt a flicker of worry, an urge to scramble back and try and balm the words over with something, anything…

But there was nothing. There was no want for peace, no wish for change, no reason to continue and suffer this abuse in the name of hoping things could go back to the way they were.

This was it. The end. One of them would live, and one of them would die.

“It means,” He growled, teeth elongating to punctuate his words. “Be mindful. Of the debts. You owe.”

Rhys pointed a finger, a blast of misting power ripping through the air between them, but just as Tamlin had burned through Amarantha’s magic when he slew her, his energy flooded over Rhys’ and crushed it to nothingness.

He tore forward, hands turning clawed as they pounded into the floor for a leap, before bludgeoning Rhysand through the double doors into the courtyard outside. The half-Illyrian’s hands clamped down on Tamlin’s growing jaws, warring to keep his teeth from tearing his head from his neck.

Tamlin continued to shift in his grasp, golden fur and horns bursting forth before he planted his legs, and swung the ruler of the Night Court through a stone fountain.

Rhys tumbled up to a stand, wind shooting into Tamlin’s face as his wings burst out in full splendor, drinking in all the color of spring around him.

“I should have tore you open the second you put your hands on her.” Rhys threatened, violet globes of energy bloomed in his hands. Tamlin smirked as well as he could in his beast form, cobblestones cracking as he stepped toward his great tormentor.

“And I should not have wasted my power bringing you back. But come on, Rhysie. Let’s see who handles it better. You? Or me?” The vines and greenery around Rhysand begin to coil like snakes, enlivened by Tamlin’s power and wrath. “I'm sure Amarantha will be glad to have you warm her bed again in Hel.”

Rhys howled, taking to the air as his hands shot forward, energy exploding against Tamlin’s body in violet flame. Circling around the courtyard, his power burned the remaining flowers in the garden to blackened ash, Tamlin using stone rails and the manor’s remaining pillars as cover against the magic. Catching a fallen column in his jaw, he hurled it at Rhys, sending the High Lord crashing through the roof into the house’s second level.

“You pushed me to this!” Tamlin hollered, the tree shaking from the volume. “I never wanted to be High Lord, and you fucking forced it on me!” The manor’s wing erupted, spears of raw magic shooting from Rhys’ eyes at eating up all the stone and wood in its way. Black mist boiled from the half-Illyrian’s mouth as he screamed, like the shadowy breath of a dragon.

Tamlin scuttled through into the opposite wing, narrowly evading the power that threatened to disintegrate to shreds of flesh and bone. The light then vanished, replaced with a swiftly rippling darkness that surrounded him at all sides. Every angle was completely black, Tamlin knocking into furniture and feeling glass and splinters puncture his hands.

A fist crushed into the side of his skull, then came a kick to the ribs hastened by the flap of wings. Tamlin swung his claws out blindly, only to be rewarded with an open palm to the throat that nearly knocked him unconscious.

As his throat pulsed in pain, he drew back his rage and opened his ears, listening to the quietest step, the subtlest beat of wings, anything to tell him where Rhys was going to strike next.

Tamlin heard the glass shriek to his left, and thrashed his horns just in time to catch Rhys lunging towards him. To block being skewered by antlers, Rhys gave up the concentration of his spell, and so the darkness fled and revealed the manor once more. The High Lords struggled, Rhys’ hands bleeding as he pushed to keep Tamlin from goring him with horns.

Once again, their gazes clashed together like swords, utter hatred compelling one another to rip, to fight, to tear and scream and forget any possible semblance of good the other may have once had. Neither of them realized that tears had begun falling from their eyes, a quiet, repressed mourning that neither would ever acknowledge.

Rhys drew himself down to get the leverage he needed, lifting Tamlin up before crashing his knee into the Spring court ruler’s lower jaw. Tamlin felt his teeth loosen, and the High Lord of Night drew all of his power into his fist before plunging it into the beast’s flank, sending him careening across the hall and down the stairs.

Agony tore through the high fae, lumbering to a stand as he struggled to breathe, the left side of his torso flaring with blood.

“You pushed me to this.” Rhysand said, the half-Illyrian’s voice infesting Tamlin’s mind. “When you laid my family out for your father on a silver platter. When you decided to fuck my mate.”

“She wasn’t your mate at the time.” Tamlin growled, and suddenly his bones, his muscles, his entire body, began to betray him. Rhys’ talons had plunged into his mind, knowing that no matter the volume of magic he levied at the High Lord of Spring, a physical fight would be an uphill battle.

“I could snap your brain in half and trap you in the form forever. Maybe I’ll put a collar on you and take you back home, make you a pet for Feyre.” Tamlin, despite the agony coursing through his brain, grinned.

“It…won’t change…a thing.” Tamlin felt Rhys swoop down from out of sight, and his thumbs pressed into his forehead with the full force of his Daemati powers piercing into him. He wailed and roared for his power—his court—to save him, and the brambles that had roped around his home leapt to his rescue.

Before he could shatter his mind, Rhys was torn away; latched to the floor by roots and thorns as Tamlin was forced back into his fae form. But with a swipe of his wings, the High Lord of Night slashed through the vines and turned them to rotted dust for good measure, before slamming upward to get him back to his feet.

Tamlin coughed and tried to wade through the pain in his head, until Rhys gripped him by the neck with one hand, before plunging the other right into the wound at his side. His ribs being pulled centimeter by centimeter, Tamlin strained to remain still, right where Rhys wanted him.

“Guess I wield it better.” Rhys muttered, the whites of his eyes now entirely drowned in black as he embodied his full power. Both his hands and mental talons had clenched in a vice around Tamlin, like a hawk with a struggling rabbit.

“Does it feel good?” Tamlin managed to get out, blood dripping down his chin.

No. Tamlin heard? Or, felt? Rhys hasn’t said anything, his teeth clenched so tight they threatened to break, but that “no” was in his voice, as were the thousands of other thoughts worming their way into the High Lord of Spring’s head.

In his rage, in his need to lock Tamlin’s mind down, Rhys had left his own mind wide open. Images and feelings were pouring a deluge, a psychic rapid of anger, fear, and self-hatred that had been all locked up inside.

He saw Rhys and Feyre form a new bargain; one of unity in death and foolhardy desperation.

He saw Feyre’s sister kneeling before her pale, pregnant body, wielding primordial power to change fate itself.

And he saw the darkness Rhys had been lost in upon giving his life to seal the Cauldron, and the small kernels of Prythian’s High Lords to guide him back.

Tamlin’s eyes widened, and he let every muscle loosen in a final surrender.

Rhys was broken, harried, lost between the mask he wore and the truth that lay in his heart. It was the same sort of suffering Feyre had gone through, the one he had been blind to while trying to make everything perfect and meaningful for them.

But whereas Feyre could fight, could push and claw herself back from that abyss, Rhys it had seemed, could not.

“I hate you.” The High Lord of Night said, his hateful voice tinged with sorrow.

“I wish I could hate you.” The High Lord of Spring replied, shimmering eyes meeting those of the soon-to-be ender of his life.

It was true—even when he served Amarantha, even when he slew his family and cursed him with rulership, even when he stole his one possible chance of happiness away—Tamlin never hated Rhys.

That made what he was about to say all the more worse.

“You can’t live with it.” Rhys paused at Tamlin’s words, his fingers having already grown to talons primed to cut his throat. “If it wasn’t for me bringing her here, you never would have met Feyre, and if it wasn’t for me convincing the High Lords, she would still be dead.” The high fae swallowed, throat raw as if he had swallowed glass. “If it wasn’t for me giving you that last light, you would be gone too.“

Tamlin remembered clear as day why he did it; because someone needed to live. Someone needed a happy ending after everything that Hybern had done.

Everything that he had done.

“Your love, your life, and your son, are all because of me. And you…can’t…live with it." Rhys let his claw dig into the side of Tamlin’s neck, his eyes wide like a mad man.

“You think you convinced the High Lords to bring Feyre back? When Amarantha died, when the curse was broken, we all got our powers back, Tamlin. You think I didn’t peer into their minds and make them give it up, make them bring her back?” Tamlin winced, teeth stained red from the blood in his throat.

“Of course.” He lilted. “They wouldn't have done it because they owed her everything, because she freed them from fifty years of torment. Why should Feyre have earned anything on her own merit, when you and the Night Court can just take the credit for every good thing that happens in Prythian?” Tamlin sniffled, eyes stinging at the mention of her name so many times. It had taken its toll.

“I loved her, more than you ever will, and more than you ever could. So do it. Just do it. I’m tired of being alone.”

Rhysand’s trembling hand rose up high, the sun gleaming against his claws, and Tamlin closed his eyes as his chin lifted to expose his neck.

Finally.

“Rhys!” The two High Lords heard, the faint rumbling of a winnow right before it. Both of them turned, and found Feyre standing in the middle of the room.

Nyx was seated in her arms, eyes wide with fear at what was unfolding before them. One look at his son’s face sent Rhys up to his feet, releasing Tamlin from the grasp of both mind and body.

“What’re you doing here?” The High Lord of Night asked, Feyre stepping back as he approached. Catching his reflection in one of the broken windows, he saw the black-sclera of his eyes, the wounds and welts that had patterned across his face and his body, and the blood that coated his hands, hair, and face.

He looked like a monster.

“Feyre, I…” Nyx hid his face away, and Feyre’s brow furrowed in a cold, solemn rage.

“Rhys. Go home. Please.” Rhys faltered for a moment, but then slowly rose ram-rod straight.

“I’m not leaving you here with him.” Not after what he had done. Tamlin would have laughed if he wasn’t in the worst pain imaginable.

“Yes you are.” Feyre retorted, nostril flaring as she took a step toward the ruler of the Spring Court. Rhys reached for her but she wheeled back on him, and Tamlin weakly watched as a bout unfolded with their minds. Yet the entire time, he noticed that Nyx had turned up slightly to face him, a small tear running down his round cheek.

Eventually Rhysand relented, sighing in defeat as the space behind him peeled in a winnow. “Please have Mor look at you.” Feyre urged, Rhys not even nodding before he left.

And there they were, just how it started.

Feyre and Tamlin, alone in his manor.

At least that's what she had thought, until she learned of the glamour and how her sneaking about made her look like a fool in front of his court.

Tamlin sat up as best he could, eyes chained to the floor as if he just couldn’t meet her gaze.

“I told him not to do this.” She started, voice cold and distant as if to hide her initial horror, her concern for him. The High Lord said nothing, his chest undulating with a mixture of fear, distress, and resentment. Why couldn’t she have just remained as hateful as he thought she was, and sat back while her High Lord peeled him apart, finally freeing him of this torment?

“It’s fine.” He said, clutching his side and grunting as the pain surged. Feyre knelt down, trying to meet Tamlin’s eyes, but he shied away.

So she opted for a different approach, nestling Nyx closer to her as her son turned to face the Lord in full. “Nyx wanted to come back. I…supposed it would have been a good excuse to talk.”

“About?” Tamlin hissed, retreating further into himself.

Feyre ran through the list. Beron? Koschei? The changes in Prythian? Lucien and Elain’s situation? There were plenty of subjects, but Tamlin hadn’t been around for any of the now seasonal High Lord Meetings to be informed of them. But she kept silent, waiting until the silence between them grew unbearable for the High Lord.

“I think your mate had the same idea,” He murmured, “To talk…”

Feyre walked over and placed Nyx on one of the few undamaged chairs. “Stay here.” She ordered, earning a nod from him. Turning back, she approached Tamlin again, but he shuffled away from her touch.

“Get away from me.” She pursed her lips in a stern look, the pointed stare of a new mother.

“I’d rather we speak without you having a gaping wound in your side.”

“I’d rather we didn’t speak at all.”

“Glad to see your stubbornness hasn’t changed.” She offered her hand again, the blooming light of the Court of Dawn’s healing magic resting within it. A shock of agony in his left side made Tamlin relent, taking his former lover’s hand and letting the energy course through him.

Best case scenario, it was a trick and he would die anyway.

“Rhys told me you were living peacefully.” She said, a half-truth. Rhys never talked with her about his visits with Tamlin, and after what she had just saw, she could see why. Perhaps she just hoped that he was doing fine without ever having to hear about it.

“I didn’t realize how I lived my life was any of your business anymore.” Tamlin replied, wincing as Feyre willed the flesh, muscle, and bone to knit itself back together.

“From a personal standpoint, it isn’t. But you’re a High Lord, and I’m a High Lady. We can’t divorce ourselves from each other entirely, much as we wish.” Feyre felt the weight of that truth, forever unable to unlatch herself from those first memories no matter what she did.

Tamlin suppressed a small smirk. We. As if any of this breaking had been mutual. At least she was taking her new role seriously.

“There was a lot going on, which was why I was keen to let Rhys handle everything.”

“I noticed.” He replied, both their gazes moving over the fidgeting Nyx. The stuffed night beast was still in his hands, the boy making growling noises as he let the beast rove over the hills of the oversized couch. “Congratulations…I guess.”

Tamlin’s words threw a wall of cold bitterness between them, and Feyre pulled her hand away as the last of the wound was repaired.

It confounded her a bit, how Tamlin could not want to tear Nyx apart or hold him over Rhys and her as some sort of hostage, some sort of last vengeance against them. But it seemed the conversation she had with Nesta held true; Tamlin had bought Nyx back safe and sound.

“If you want us to leave, we’ll leave. But I’d rather we actually talk.” Feyre stood and took a seat by Nyx, before picking him up and placing him on her lap. “And Rhys won’t be coming back here anymore.”

Tamlin chuffed, sitting up fully. “Never knew him to take being told what to do lightly.” Feyre remained stoic, unshakable in her resolve. She had long since passed the feeling that she could just leave things as they were, ignoring Tamlin and being unable to face the harshness of the things they had done to each other.

That wasn’t a good example for a mother to be, nor was it for a High Lady, a role she had finally begun to sink her teeth into.

“I have an unfair advantage.” Feyre smirked for a moment, but then realized just how much every sentence spilt more salt into the old wounds they had with one another. Every word, every attempt at light heartedness, was soured by all that had happened between them, all still raw and unresolved, left to dry and rot like a festering wound.

“Regardless,” she continued, “He can take it how he likes.”

Tamlin finally let his eyes rise, catching the visage of Feyre seated with her young son at her lap. “Is that not what you wanted?” He asked. Admittedly, it was a low blow to tug on Feyre’s vengeful streak, but it was the truth.

“I never wanted him to hurt you.” She answered, a slight pain in her voice even as Nyx reached up to her and spoke in incomprehensible babbles.

It should have burned Tamlin—the sight of her with her son—should have awakened in a torrent that brought down the last of the manor upon them both.

But it didn’t. He just kept focus on the boy starting to teeth on his little night beast, and his mother watching him dutifully. She practically paid Tamlin no mind beyond the initial concern, having grown strong enough with her own right that she had nothing to worry about.

Tamlin felt as if a small part of him would have been proud, but he sighed, careful not to aggravate his bruises as he stood up.

“Has he eaten?”

[fadelikeclouds]

I love the silences in this episode. No music, no conversation. It feels a bit awkward. But really, we are just waiting for Yutaka to build up enough courage to express himself. Because it takes courage to talk about a painful past.

He hasn’t talked about it to anyone else. He probably never planned on speaking about it to others, so of course doesn’t know how to start or what to say.

So we get this silence, filled with the heaviness of unexpressed pain, but more than that, it’s really an uncertainty. Yutaka is hesitating on the threshold of a different life: one in which he has warm people who care about him, want him in their lives, and love him. Minoru is someone who wants to know more about him, not just to share in his happiness but also understand his pain. Yutaka is no longer stuck in isolation, but that is such a huge shift in his experiences up until now. He wants to go forward, he just doesn’t know how to proceed with that first step: talking about his past.

Especially when he’s not sure why it’s left him with such a scar even though it could be considered something small, “それだけの事”, a comment from his older brother. In his mind, he thinks there’s something wrong with him because even though he was blessed with a “good” life with his adoptive parents he ended up feeling afraid of eating with others and feeling as if he was lacking something.

"For me, there are no memories of a happy dining table, and that really made me feel like I was deficient as a human."

But he works through his hesitant fear and begins his story, hiding behind the drawing of the happy, smiling self he wishes he could have been as a child.

I loved all the details in Inukai’s acting in this scene: how hard he was gripping the drawing while he talked, the pauses in his retelling, the way the words get caught in his throat. There is a lot of pain as he revisits his past, where he had no real home, no welcoming family, and nowhere he felt completely safe and comfortable.

But the reason he can even talk about his past is because his present is so different.

"But then, I met you two, and eating meals together became something I thought of as happy for the first time since I was born."

And that’s the really beautiful thing about this show. Nothing earth shattering happened. Yutaka met the Ueda family. That’s it. And yet, that’s everything. Sometimes all it takes is meeting the right people to melt a heart frozen by fear and anxiety. Even the most mundane life can be filled with life altering miracles when looked at through another perspective.

A simple encounter at the park with an outgoing, cheerful, and hungry child gives Yutaka a family and a home. And the “small” joys of life return to him: the happiness of eating with others, the anticipation for the weekends, the comfort of knowing there is a place where he is wholeheartedly welcomed.

To Yutaka and Minoru just having each other in their lives is healing and joyful.

[mayabishopgold]

Top 5 Station 19 episodes

I got a couple of asks about this, so I decided to cheat a bit and make two lists: a top 5 of what I objectively consider to be the best episodes of the show, and then my personal favorites.

To the people who sent the asks: I'm sorry for taking so long! This was HARD. And also thank you! I love lists. This was so much fun.

Here we go!

Best episodes:

5. 7x05 "My Way" The 100th episode of the show highlights Andy's long journey to becoming Captain. Considering how underwhelming the scene where Ross promotes her in 6x18 was (seriously, what does she have against official conversations in an office?), the pinning ceremony provided a satisfying full-circle moment.

The Best: I know I'm biased but Maya really was the MVP of the episode. Was there for Andy, patched things up with Beckett, supported Carina... I'm just so proud of her. The Worst: I really felt Carina's storyline with the car accident added nothing. I would have preferred to see her at her doctor's appointment.

4. 3x10 "Something About What Happens When We Talk" / 4x12 "Get up, stand up" Always considered these to be sister episodes. Both use therapy with Diane to deepen character development as the team deals with the aftermath of traumatic events.

The Best: Maya's session in 3x10 and Dean fighting back tears in Diane's presence in 4x12. Really powerful moments. The Worst: On a very shallow note, I wish we could have seen more of Carina's outfit in 4x12.

3. 4x05 "Out Of Control" The team rallies to help a mother whose daughter has been kidnapped, leading to a confrontation with police officers.

The Best: The tension that builds during the last 20 mins. The Worst: No Carina.

2. 2x15 "Always Ready" I'll never understand why Ripley had to die, it felt sudden and completely unnecessary. Why would you throw away such insane chemistry? but OMG what an episode.

The Best: the team coming together on top of the rig. The Worst: did I mention Ripley? still in mourning.

1. 7x09 "How am I supposed to live without you" A big wildfire incident serves as the backdrop for high-stakes character drama. Add all the callbacks to previous moments, plus the added emotion of the show ending, and you have the most impactful episode of the series. It left us with intriguing possibilities that the finale, unfortunately, failed to deliver on.

The Best: That cliffhanger and the fact it actually focused on the characters and dynamics people care about—Marina, Travic, and Andy/Maya. The Worst: Did we need another Ross/Sullivan bed scene? no we didn't.

Bonus: 7x04 "Trouble Man" Although, based on execution alone, this would be in the Top 5, all of the previous episodes on the list are considerably more important in the context of the show. This one is more of a transition episode.

The Best: Very inspired directing choices. The Worst: Marina's new house was really a downgrade, although I ended up kind of liking it by the end of the season.

My favorites:

5. 1x04 "Reignited" The first Maya-centric episode of the series. And wow, she really became the most compelling character of the show just four episodes in. What a difference right from the start in how much care the development of Maya's character received compared to Andy's.

The Best: Maya being an amazing paramedic and saving the life of someone everyone else had already given up on. The Worst: Anything involving Jack and Andy. Sorry, but they had zero chemistry at the beginning of the series.

4. 6x08 "I know a place" You know an episode will be good when Dr. Diane Lewis shows up—only exception being 5x04. It's painful but so worth it. Maya begins healing, Jack gets back to work at the station, and we learn a bit of Ruiz's background. All in all, a very solid hour of the show.

The Best: Maya & her 3 year old self The Worst: No Carina and too much Eli & Andy...

3. 2x10 "Crazy Train" This is by far my favorite incident/ call in the series. I don't particularly love the ending, but everything else? perfection.

The Best: Maya in charge AND looking fine as hell The Worst: Gibshop.

2. 6x14 "Get it all Out". This is 100% my comfort episode. There is something so playful about Maya and Carina as they were still finding their way back to each other. All of these Season 6 episodes are a treat. Also, "How's your arm, PAM?" will forever be etched in my brain.

The Best: Jealous!Maya The Worst: The directing choices are particularly poor.

1. 4x14 "Comfortably Numb" Carina has to return to Italy due to her visa expiring. Maya is understandably freaking out and considering if they should get married. They fight, have sex, fight again, and ultimately end up getting engaged. Other stuff happens... but honestly, who cares?

The Best: The Marina scenes are allowed time to play out. It's obvious when actors enjoy the material they are working with. Every beat of those scenes feels authentic. The Worst: For some reason I always find the Ben OR scene to be super cringey.

[vihattu-thethoroughbredofsin]

EarthSpark: When the script is not your strong suit. Part 2.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

6. The authors do not understand the consequences of war and racism and cannot work qualitatively with these topics.

Now I'm going to be really emotional for certain reasons, but I'm going to try to bring constructive criticism.

The authors absolutely do not understand and cannot adequately show either the consequences of the war conflict or the problems of racism.

Let's start with what the conditions of the world are in the series. As far as we know, at some point in time, the Cybertronians ended up on Earth and continued their war conflict, which lasted an indefinite amount of time and ended about 15 years ago. As far as we know, humans participated in the conflict on the side of the Autobots, the Decepticons fought against humans as well as against the Autobots, which we learned from the episode "Warzone".

We know that it was a protracted conflict with the death of many people and the destruction of human cities. And we also know that the Decepticons planned the genocide of mankind.

And now a logical question arises. Will most people treat Decepticons or Cybertronians generally well after that? If people were not guilty of the conflict, but suffered greatly from it, why should they just forgive Cybertronians? Why shouldn't people be afraid of Cybertronians after all that has happened? 15 years is a very short time for the wounds inflicted by the war to heal in the minds of the population. For many, a loved one may have died or suffered, perhaps killed by one of the Decepticons. So for what reason should people be against Decepticons being caught, especially if they are still dangerous (but more on that later, when we discuss the depiction of racism).

At the same time, the authors in the narrative are trying to impose the idea that people should treat Cybertronians well, and it is wrong to be afraid of them and be offended at them. The authors show this quite straightforwardly, through the image of the GHOST as evil, exposing Croft and Meridian as unambiguous villains, people in the city as cruel savages and Robbie's friend as malevolent from nowhere.

Although a good plot point could have been built on Robbie's friend, when they would have disagreed about how much their families had suffered from the war. For example, Dot lost her leg, but maybe she has a good pension, maybe she was given a good prosthesis. And Robbie's friend's mother could have died in the war, his father or someone else from his relatives could have suffered more, and his family could not receive any compensation. That's where the ambiguity and a deeper look at the consequences of the war conflict could be. Like, "Yes, Robbie, I'm very glad that Megatron is your mom's best friend, but because of him, my mom is gone!". Maybe it's a cliché, maybe it's too straightforward, but it's better than nothing.

What was shown to us in the series itself? One of the victims is Megatron's best friend (Megatron, the main culprit of all that happened), the other victim is a villain, and we don't see anything else and no one in the environment. Megatron tells us about the consequences in the episode " Warzone". And this episode was made so that we felt sorry for Megatron himself. No, there were a couple more goals — to show that the Terrans are not responsible for the mistakes of the Cybertronians (which is the right idea) and to make a reference to the blue flowers from the IDW comics.

So what does this episode tell us through narrative? Yes, the deaths of both Cybertronians and humans are mentioned, and images of the destruction of human cities are shown. But this is all said in passing, the main emphasis is on the fact that the Cybertronians may have lost the Allspark and the space bridge, which is why they cannot return home. Yes, it is tragic. But who is to blame for this? And are the deaths of people less serious consequences?

Against this background, it is very ironic that the names on the memorial are a meaningless set of letters. Yes, it is clear that it would be difficult to encrypt so many names. But this does not negate the irony.

I just don't understand how it was possible to write the topic of the consequences of the war so badly? Everything can be understood, a children's cartoon, a difficult topic. But if the author can't handle such a topic, the authors shouldn't have chosen it in the first place! The history of all world conflicts and any features of the post-war period is now available. Yes, even now there are several major military conflicts in the real world! Right here and right now! And such an attitude to such a difficult topic, which for many people is an everyday reality, feels like a spit in the face, a spit in the soul. And the authors just took this topic and threw it away for another one, thus saying that this topic is not as important as another one.

And this is the topic of racism. I'm not saying that it's less important, but you can't just replace one with the second one almost in the middle of the season!

And the funny thing is, the authors couldn't even handle the topic of racism and present it correctly.

The authors are obviously trying to present to us here an allusion to racism towards migrants and refugees. Unfortunately, such a narrative cannot work with all the prerequisites that we had in the plot.

Let's start with what racism is. To put it simply, this is a biased attitude towards representatives of other races (nationalities or cultures) based on human fear of the unknown / unlike / strangers, supported by a set of ideological views about cardinal physiological, intellectual, moral differences between races, assuming the superiority of one of them. Within the framework of these views, races are considered practically as different biological species. We know perfectly well that this is not the case and all races are equal in their characteristics and capabilities, since we are one biological species. That is why racism is exclusive and works as a definition only within one species.

And racism doesn't work towards Cybertronians in this series, because, surprise, Cybertronians are a different species. Yes, Thrash, transformers are not people, and people are not transformers. There are obvious differences between the two species. And in this case, they are objective, Cybertronians are physically very different from humans, at least by physical strength.

Therefore, people's fear of Cybertronians is justified. Each of them is a war machine, which, if something happens, a human will not be able to stop, will not be able to escape. And the realization of helplessness causes fear. This is the first reason.

Cybertronians fought on Earth, which led to many casualties, and people remember this. This also causes fear, because every Cybertronian on Earth has shown itself to be a killing and destruction machine.

Because of this, the allusion of refugees and migrants cannot be transferred to transformers. Because they are neither one nor the other in the plot. Let me remind you, every Cybertronian on Earth is either a soldier or working for the faction's army, accidentally stuck on Earth. Each of them participated in the conflict, almost every one of them is a soldier. And when we talk about migrants and refugees, we are talking about the peaceful civilian population, to whom prejudices are transferred, caused by one reason or another, but which are not characteristic of these individuals.

So the fear of transformers is justified, almost every one of them participated in a devastating war for the Earth, most likely almost every Decepticon killed people. And people probably remembered who killed their soldiers, what their names were and what they looked like, because, most likely, during the war there were warnings everywhere about who and what to be afraid of. So why should we be surprised again by people who want to catch runaway Decepticons? Especially when there is the following reason.

Cybertronians do not feel guilty and do not do anything to make Earth their home. They brought destruction here, they are stuck on this planet through their own fault. Maybe they helped people rebuild cities? We don't know. Maybe they shared their technology as payment for what they had done? We don't know. Maybe the Decepticons tried to establish relations with people, but their attempt was rejected? WE DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! All we were shown was a deliberately GHOST-filmed film about how Cybertronians help build a bridge. According to the narrative, it is clear that transformers usually do not do this. And some of them are still dangerous to society. So why should people accept them with open arms in principle? People also have to provide them with energon at their own expense!

Cybertronians are not migrants, because they did not move to Earth of their own free will. Cybertronians are not migrants because there are no civilians among them. Cybertronians are not migrants, because migrants do not come to destroy the place where they are going to live (or do the authors think otherwise?).

I don't even want to describe how dumb the scene was with the underground transformers fights. Just to remind you that in the real world, this is entertainment for very rich people, for obvious reasons. Because they can provide a very big prize, which is what the fighters are fighting for. Tell me, someone, where did common residents of the city get so much money for a prize energon? Where do they even get it, their own underground production in the basement of an old lady? The series tries to touch on serious topics, and then shows THAT. Or do the authors imagine the life of migrants exactly as survival on the run and in underground arenas? But aren't such ideas already racist?)))

7. People are bad again, and the authors lead to the fact that people are the main villains.

Based on the previous point, we have the trope "people are real monsters" here again. Which, under the conditions shown in the series, does not work. But something tells me that the authors are trying to bring the plot and morality to the fact that it is people who will be wrong, that people actually provoked the poor Decepticons to aggression, and in the end they will definitely realize this and apologize. Most likely, they will even kneel down to fully show their remorse.

And all of this in general gives a very strange message. Basically, everyone who didn't like transformers is shown to be bad people, and two even died a pretty terrible and painful death. And only those who like Cybertronians are shown to be good people.

It feels like the show is trying to send a message — accept transformers or die. And this is some kind of very painful message, because it literally says: "You either forgive these guys who have killed a lot of people, are stuck here and some of them continue to cause harm, or you are a terrible person and die altogether".

8. Meridian.

I would like to say that everything is fine here, and I will say it. Meridian is a really stand-out character, an ambiguous villain with understandable motivation, not just evil because evil. But there are also strange moments in his development.

The strange thing is that the authors never gave him a name. Like, what's the idea? One person suggested an interesting theory (I will not mention the nickname in case a person does not want to be associated with what I am writing here) that the authors wanted to show that anyone who lives with hatred and a desire for revenge can be a Mandroid. This is interesting, but it is unlikely that the authors have put such a deep thought into it. Moreover, he has too many characteristic features and moments of backstory that cannot serve as points of connection with the viewer.

It is also strange that the audience was not clearly shown his background. How exactly did he lose his arm, how was he saved by Arachnamechs, why does he have such an attitude towards Croft, how is he connected with Alex. We don't know anything for sure, if I'm not mistaken, we've never been shown any of his flashbacks. And since he's dead, there's no one to tell his story, so we won't know anything about him anymore.

The prerequisites for a connection with Alex were not developed. In the early episodes, Meridian reacted quite emotionally to Alex, but when they met... nothing? They could have been friends or at least colleagues, it would have added depth to the characters, but this is another case of forgotten premises.

We were hinted that something had happened to him, he himself said that Arachnamechs had changed him in some way so that he would survive, and partly he was also technoorganic (?), but this information did not lead to anything.

No less strange is that the authors decided to go all the way with the idea of "you become what you hate." The problem is that Meridian has never become anything like a transformer. Yes, he replaced his hands at first, but then mutated into something else, but obviously organic or at least technoorganic. His final form is either a technical part, or just a shell that doesn't even transform. So Thrash's phrase in the finale doesn't make sense, because Meridian didn't become what he hates, he became something else. The authors could have changed their original plan and pointed out how much he lost himself, became unrecognizably unlike a human in him because of all this revenge, but they did not.

And, if we return to the argument with Thrash, transformers are really not people, so here the authors confuse the viewer, because the viewer must agree with Thrash. But how can you agree with him if he calls two different species by the same name? Or is it a feature of the English language? I don't understand.

Actually, that's enough. I believe that Meridian was right in principle that he wanted to rid the Earth of the cybertronians, since at that time they had done nothing good to the planet and humans. That's it, I declare the #DrMeridianWasRight movement.

9. What about Croft?

It turned out to be very strange with Croft. We absolutely don't know her motivation, why she doesn't like Cybertronians, what happened in her past to get her to the point of wanting to take over Cybertron. Maybe she lost someone in the war, or was she affected by this war? Does she want revenge or is she just ambitious? No, she's just an evil blonde (or gray-haired) woman.

And the choice of death is strange. This is very cruel for a character who has done almost nothing in front of the viewers. It's okay if she tortured the Decepticons, but they just sit in the cells, and what the GHOST did to the Decepticons during the Hashtag infiltration into the base in the episode "Hashtag: Oops" was not explained at all.

What is the backstory of her and Meridian? Why do they treat each other like that? Again, we don't know anything.

And that would be fine for a simpler show, but this cartoon has already shown that it's going to work out the characters and give them some motivation, but not in her case. Or did the authors think that it was enough for the audience that her name was Karen? I don't know. Someone said that she didn't need motivation because she was just evil and there wasn't always a reason to hate. But this is not the case, and any psychologist will tell you (including me) that there are always reasons for hatred, even subconscious and erratic ones, but they are there. There is no groundless hatred, in this case there may be an erratic reason that we do not know and will probably never know anymore.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

[danykvyat]

So I finished Gintama and I've already started rewatching a couple of my personal favourite episodes (yeah I’m hyper-fixating) but how GOOD some of those earlier arcs were really emphasises how stagnant the ending was. The ending was ok, it wasn't awful, but it was....Meh. I’m late to the party so I’m sure it’s been said a million times before but having all the characters regress back to how they were at the beginning sucked. Nothing changed. For a series that always preached about life being worth living in spite of the change, pain and grief living brings, that sucked. It sucked. 

Shogun Assassination and Farewell Shinsengumi are the high points of the series because the events in the arcs are personal for ALL the characters. By Shogun Assassination our core characters have all come to know and care for Shige Shige so wanting to stop his assassination is a poignant goal for everyone. Farewell Shinsengumi deals with the fallout of failing to achieve that goal, culminating with the Shinsengumi willingly becoming rebels to save Kondo, again, one of THE core characters in the show. Both arcs feel high stakes because they are. They’re centred around established and pre-existing characters we've spent hundreds of episodes with. Our characters' actions feel meaningful. The battles we get feel meaningful. It all feels like it'll build to something even more meaningful because what happens in those arcs force our characters to grow and change.

And then we get Utsuro’s introduction and it all goes downhill from there. Sorachi wrote himself into a corner by making Shoyo Utsuro. The second he did that he had to commit to the ending being Gintoki, Katsura and Takasugi shaving Shoyo. Anything else would not be thematically fulfilling. And he didn't do that. 

It means Silver Soul is (un)intentionally reduced to a really straightforward good vs bad story for all the characters EXCEPT the Joui 3. The rest of the characters (mostly) have no personal ties to Shoyo. They’re stopping Utsuro et al predominantly because they're bad people out to destroy the Earth. That's it. It doesn't feel high stakes because Utsuro is never going to blow up the earth. That's just not going to happen. So it’s not interesting. You could replace almost all of the characters in Silver Soul with no-name background characters and nothing really changes. 

Which makes the ending we did get even more baffling to me because Sorachi clearly realises that or else he wouldn’t have pushed for the ending to go past what had been the agreed end date. And yet the narrative still essentially punishes Gin for his choice to behead Shoyo by having both Takasugi and Shoyo die in the end. Shoyo doesn't get to save his student. Katsura doesn't get to stop Gin from having to cut down someone dear to him again. Takasugi never gets to heal and move on from his trauma. There is zero catharsis. 

And then we flash forward with no reflection from any of the characters on what just happened and to make that worse we find out every character has failed to achieve their goals and everyone has regressed back to being the same character as they were at the beginning. Except we’re meant to be happy about that. It’s…..a choice.

Like I said, I’ve seen worse endings, and if I’m being generous it’s a nice safe ending for the Yorozuya. But I never felt like GinTama was a safe series. Utsuro being Shoyo caused a fundamental flaw with the story that Sorachi never really resolves so just wraps it up with a ‘See! It’s still a hijinks comedy series!’ which by the end, no it was a lot more than that.

Also Sorachi did the Shimuras so dirty. SO dirty.

[lizziethat]

It’s getting harder to not see a TedBecca endgame by the episode or is it just me?

It's getting harder. I mean, I think it's possible to watch the show without giving their relationship much thought -- I binged the first season and didn't think oh this is 100% what they're going for and nothing else makes sense. But as S2 progressed, and especially on rewatch, I think the seeds were planted early on ...the show was just telling a story about two broken people healing on their own before telling a story about two broken people finding the final piece of the puzzle in each other.

And I actually really respect that. I don't think I'd like this story as much if it were about Ted "fixing" Rebecca or vice versa, because love doesn't fix you. Love can be support, it can lift you up, and it can make you try and believe and smile --- but you have to fix yourself. And, once you do, hopefully, like I think it'll happen to Ted and Rebecca, you'll look up and find the person who was perfect for you was right there in front of you.

Storytelling-wise, though, how could the story of a man who always felt like he was too much and a woman who never felt like she was enough, end but with them together and finding the perfect balance in each other? POETRY, I tell you.