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souliebird · 9 months

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[[and then i met you || ch.1]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary: A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s.

a/n: Reader is an extremely anxious person. That’s the note.

words: 5.6k

You hope Matthew Michael Murdock is a good man.

You tried to research him online, but you didn't find anything that could sway you one way or another.

The news articles say he's some sort of local hero - not only for being a lawyer who does a lot of pro-bono work but for saving a man from being hit by a truck when he was a kid. They all give his tragic backstory before praising him and his law partner for helping the underprivileged and going after some big shot corrupt businessman - twice. The comments are mostly from people he's helped, singing about how Nelson and Murdock saved them in their times of crisis.

You want to trust them, but you can't.

The news also claimed Hitler was Person of the Year and deserved praise, too, and you know how that turned out. Not that you think a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen can be compared to a genocidal leader, but your mental point to yourself still stands.

You know nothing about Matthew Murdock except he's blind, he's a lawyer, and his dick changed your life.

You doubt he even remembers you - a one-night stand from years ago, before his name even started appearing in the news again, and to be fair, you didn't remember him at first, either. Not until four months later when you went in to get your anxiety medication adjusted and the doctor made you take a routine pregnancy test. Then you remembered the handsome blind lawyer who flirted with you at a friend's holiday party you had gone to. You could remember the silly conversation you had about white elephant, that he had the most charming smile, and he could do things with his tongue that made you moan just thinking about, but you could not remember his name.

You had tried to find him, you really did, but your energy and attention was quickly needed elsewhere and the search for your daughter's father lost steam.

Until you saw him on the television while at the local diner, giving an interview with his law partner.

That was yesterday and now you are standing outside the door of his firm, trying to work up the courage to go in.

There's too many scenarios in your head, all of them bad- he's not going to want anything to do with you and your daughter, which you can deal with, or maybe, just maybe, he'll try to take her away from you. He's a lawyer and you work in billing for a transportation company. There's no doubt who the courts would choose and it wouldn't be you.

The thought makes you want to turn and run but you know your daughter deserves the chance to know her father - and he deserves to know she exists. It's his choice, once he knows, if he wants to be in her life or not, not yours.

It scares you so much it's not your choice.

You scrub at your face, trying to work up the courage to actually open the door in front of you when it does just that.

A kind looking woman with strawberry blonde hair is standing in the doorway and you recognize her from the firm's website - Karen Page. She's the third partner in the firm and you didn't really look into her in your hunt for information.

She offers you a smile before speaking, "You look like you're debating coming in." You shrug, unsure what to say because that is exactly what you were doing but don't want to admit it. She looks you over without it feeling judgmental before focusing on the manila envelope in your hand. She steps back slightly and gestures for you to come into the office. "You made it this far. Whatever it is, we'll do our best to help you."

The sentiment is so kind and you know she means well, thinking you are a potential client, but it just causes your throat to get even tighter.

It has been you and your daughter for so long, is this really the right path to take?

You hug your file to your chest and take a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until you are in the office. It's not big or fancy and you didn't expect it to be. There's a little waiting area in front of the reception desk, with another desk shoved against a wall, and on either side of the room, doors leading to what you suspect are the private offices.

Karen goes around to the back of the reception desk and picks up a clipboard holding some paperwork and offers it out to you.

You take it and stare down at it, unsure if you would fill it out or not. When you look back up, Karen is still smiling at you and you don't want to come off as a problem, so you take a seat in the waiting area and start filling out the requested information. As you write out your address, it finally occurs to you that you have no idea how to have the conversation you need to have.

Do you ease into it or drop it on him like a bomb? You had only ever thought about finding him and never about what you would say when you did.

You should have taken more time to plan this out. You're such an idiot - you just jumped right into running towards him like you might lose track of him if you took so much as a second to think. You know his name now, who he is, you can take time to get things sorted out properly.

Would it be weird to leave in the middle of filling out paperwork you shouldn't even be bothering with?

Probably not, but you're already here. There is no point in running.

This is for your daughter, not you. You have to keep telling yourself that.

You don't fill out the information asking about your 'case'. It honestly makes you panic a bit if you start thinking about it all in a legal sense - you know nothing about law and the man you're meeting with graduated at the top of his class from a top law school. Your hand is shaking as you add your signature to the bottom of the page and date it. Reviewing everything takes just a moment, since there's barely anything written to begin with, and your eyes drift up to the logo at the top of the page.

Nelson, Murdock, and Page.

You trace it with your finger.

Matthew Murdock has to be a good man. This firm helps people and he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to help people. He graduated top of his class; he could work anywhere he wanted to. The papers said he is good, too - they win most of their cases.

Unless it's all a weird front to hide something like money laundering.

But if they were money launders wouldn't they have enough money to afford an air conditioner?

"All done?"

Karen is in front of you, smiling politely. You are surprised by her appearance, but you don't feel pressured. It's like she's checking in so that she can break you out of your thoughts and you appreciate that. You nod and hand her the clipboard. She takes it, giving it a once over.

"Foggy will be out in just a minute."

Your head jerks up at that.

"No, I need to see Mr. Murdock."

You can tell Karen is surprised by that and her eyes narrow just a fraction. She searches your face, then she looks towards the door on the left.

You turn your head to follow her gaze.

"Matt!" Karen calls out.

A few moments pass before the door opens and you feel like you're going to throw up.

The cameras don't do him justice.

Matthew Murdock is gorgeous. He was handsome before and somehow, he just got hotter. He's a little taller than you, still as lean as you remember, and looking crisp in a gray suit - like some model walked off the catwalk and into a sweltering office. His hair is shorter than you remember it being. You have the distinct memory of being able to grab onto it, but it's too cropped to do that now.

But the thing that catches your attention the most is that in person and in the light, you can see Matthew's hair has an auburn tint to it.

Just like Minnie's.

The realization shakes your entire world.

This man is the father of your child. He's real. He's no longer a concept of a person, who you knew nothing about, who just existed somewhere in the world.

You have to look away before you start to cry. You don't know where this surge of emotion is coming from - it feels like this wave of relief. This question you have always had finally has an answer.

You tell yourself to take a breath, you know getting overly emotional isn't going to help anything. It might actually make things worse and spiraling into a meltdown is not a good first impression.

You can see Karen in your peripheral vision, and you look up to her, trying to regain your focus.

It's Matthew who speaks first, "Yes, Karen?"

"We have a walk-in who is hoping she can speak with you."

You introduce yourself, standing up as you do. You know he is blind, so you don't offer your hand. Instead you clutch your folder to your chest.

He doesn't seem to remember your name. He turns towards you and gives a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Murdock, but you seem to know that. I have some time right now, please come in. Karen, can you grab us some water before you join us?"

"Yeah, sure," Karen says as she turns to do just that.

Your throat gets tight again.

You don't want to have this conversation with someone else there. It's already going to be hard enough. You'll definitely start crying if Karen is in the room. You cannot deal with two people's reactions. The mere thought of you having to do that is making you sweat.

Matthew's voice breaks you out of your panic. "If that is okay?"

You rush out your response, "I would prefer to speak alone, please." You're too panicked to feel embarrassment.

Karen doesn't seem phased by this. She is still grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and offering one out to you. You take it.

"Not a problem, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Kare. Please, come this way," Matthew motions for you to follow him into the office.

This is it.

Once you go through that door, you aren't leaving that room without telling Matthew Murdock he is a father.

You surprise yourself by not hesitating and just charging forward into the office.

This isn't about you or your fears.

This is for Minnie.

You keep your gaze forward because you can't bring yourself to look at him. If you stop and look at him before you tell him why you are here, you will just start over analyzing everything once again. You silently beg to whatever gods will listen that everything will be okay, and this man won't destroy you.

He doesn't look like he is going to break your heart.

But you know that looks mean nothing when it comes to pain.

He closes the door behind you with an audible click and the weight of the moment starts to come down on your shoulders.

You take the seat in front of the desk quickly, worried your nerves might catch up with you, placing the water on the ground beside you with your purse when you sit. Matthew doesn't rush, he walks to his desk with an air of quiet confidence and if you were a client, it would be comforting, but you aren't and all it does is remind you why you fell into bed with him.

"What brings you in today, Miss..?" He trails off, prompting you to say your name again. As he reaches his desk you watch as he trails his fingers along the edge, using it as a guide, before moving his hand to brush over the back of his seat before sitting in it.

You chew your bottom lip, wishing you had taken a second to actually plan what you would say instead of jumping in. As far as you know, there isn't a step-by-step guide on how to tell a one-night stand that he's the father of your child - not that you actually looked into that in your desperate research the night before.

Matthew doesn't push as you gather your thoughts. He moves some paperwork away from the center of his desk, then folds his hands there, waiting. You keep your gaze on his hands, needing something to focus your eyes on while you force the truth out.

"I saw your interview last night," you say, deciding to start there, as it seems the most relatable.

Matthew's brows knit together and he tilts his head to the side and you are one again reminded of Minnie. It's a gesture she does often, tilting her little head left and right as she tries to understand something. It always reminded you of a dog and now you wonder if it's not a learned behavior, but genetic.

His lips turn down into a frown and his head stays cocked as he asks, "Do you have information about the Lynch case?"

Heat rushes to your cheeks - of course that would be the question to ask after bringing up the interview. The whole piece was about a specific case they were working on and how it would affect Hell's Kitchen and you hadn't paid any attention to what was said - not after you realized who was on the screen.

You shake your head, resisting the urge to look away and you curl your fingers tighter around the manila folder in your lap. "No, I'm sorry. I saw you and…recognized you."

He straightens up and his demeanor shifts to something less…friendly. It's minute but your messed-up brain screams at you about body language - his shoulders have squared up and you can see where he's clenching his back teeth. You quickly continue on, wanting to get through with your explanation before your anxiety makes you clam up.

"We met nearly five years ago," your voice is firm and factual and you're proud of yourself for that, "at a holiday party."

The words leave your mouth and you know he knows. Every part of him seems to go still - even his breathing seems to stop. The crease between his brow smoothes out, like he's gone from squinting to wide eyes behind his dark glasses. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your throat is getting stiff, but your voice remains steady as you push the words out.

"I think you are the father of my child."

All the color seems to leave Matthew's face and he looks nearly as gray as his suit. The reaction makes your stomach turn. He looks like he is going to throw up.

You bite into your lip, waiting for Matthew to do or say something. All you can do is mentally chant to yourself: he's a good man, he won't take her away.

You know it's probably just seconds, but it feels like hours pass before Matthew moves.

He leans slowly back in his chair, reaching up with one hand to rub at his mouth.

"Are you sure?"

He doesn't sound upset, at least to your ears. His words are cautious - tentative - and it makes your heart go tight in your chest. You don't know if it's fear or hope or everything crashing into you at once now that he knows.

You force out a nod before you remember that the man in front of you is blind. You find your voice and words creep out.

"I'm pretty sure," you start. Your eyes drop away from his hands back down to your lap and you have to lick at your lips to wet them before continuing, "I didn't go out much after that party, I got so busy with work. I didn't…find out until the first trimester was over. By then, I couldn't remember your name. My friends who I went to the party with didn't know you either. I tried to Google you with what information I had, but 'blind lawyer' just got me a lot of disability lawyers." You take a shaky breath, "I understand if you want a paternity test."

You know Matthew is probably taking everything in, but now that you've started talking, it's like you've lifted the dam on your anxiety. You squeeze the file in your lap - just because you hadn't known how you were going to tell Matthew the truth did not mean you hadn't extensively thought about the consequences. Words start to spill out of you.

"I also understand if you don't want anything to do with us, I get it's a big shock. I'm not looking for anything from you." Matthew drops his hand to the desk and if you didn't know better, it would look like he was staring at you. "I just wanted you to know and I thought it would be good for her to know you, but if you don't want that, I get it. All I ask is you fill out some paperwork, medical history mostly so I know if there's anything I need to look out for. I printed it out for you, it's all in braille."

You get up just enough so that you can place the manila envelope on the desk, then sit back down. Your throat is getting so tight and stiff you feel like you're struggling to breathe.

Matthew runs his hand over his desk until he can feel the envelope. His fingers move along the edge and you stare at them, like they are going to be the one to reveal what Matthew is thinking instead of his mouth. He finds the lip but doesn't open, instead flattening his palm against it.

"...her?"

His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. You lift your head to finally look at him and your heart skips a beat.

Matthew looks so soft. The corners of his lips twitch a few times before a smile slowly spreads across his face.

And you know.

You know without a doubt he is your daughter's father. They have the exact same smile. You can't help but to grin as well.

This is good, isn't it? He looks Happy.

"I have a daughter.."

"Winifred.. Winifred Love," you offer. Matthew lifts his head and tilts it towards you, brow wrinkling slightly.

"Love…?" He asks, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity.

You close your eyes in a bit of embarrassment, as you always do during the story, "I meant to put Grace, but I was out of it. I even put a big heart next to it on the paperwork." You aren't ashamed of the story and you love your daughter's name, but it's always a 'oops I was high' moment, even if it was done with the purest intention.

If possible, Matthew's smile gets even bigger.

"Winifred Love," he says, his voice dropping back down to the barely there whisper.

"She goes by Minnie. Like, um.. Like Minnie Mouse," you say. That gets an amused yet fond chuckle. You find yourself relaxing at the noise - like some of the pressure squeezing on your lungs has been lifted and you can finally breathe.

He repeats her nickname and you feel your lips start to turn up.

"How old..?" His voice cracks with emotion and Matthew has to clear his throat before continuing, "how old is she?"

"Three and a half," you answer quickly, "her birthday is a few months away." You bite your lip then hesitantly add, "She wants to go to the zoo. It's all she talks about."

"Yeah?" Matthew prompts. His smile is so so soft and it makes your stomach turn in this pleasant way. However, you were expecting him to act, this is not it. In your heart, you think the best you were going for was acceptance, but this seems much more than that. There is a stinging in the corner of your eyes and you have to take your own steadying breath continuing on.

"Yeah, um.. She…likes maps right now. I got her a map to the zoo and she's got the whole day planned." Which is very much true - your coffee table has been the home of a makeshift zoo diorama for a little over a week now and the itinerary has changed about twenty times.

Matthew ducks his head and nods a little, taking all the information in. You squeeze your fingers in your lap, needing a way to release the nerves still buzzing inside you.

A few moments pass before Matthew clears his throat again, "What else does she like..?"

The question makes you chuckle just a little bit, only because gushing about your daughter is something you're very good at. Since you work at home, it is just the two of you ninety percent of the time, you don't get to coo over her very often.

"She loves arts and crafts - anything she can get her little hands on. Right now she loves pipe cleaners and paper, things she can bend and fold, you know? I set her next to me while working and she'll just fold paper into little shapes. Not origami or anything, just abstract things, she doesn't plan it. She always wants to help, too, whatever I'm doing. Cooking and cleaning. She is the best helper for grocery shopping." You pause, looking over Matthew's smile for a moment before continuing on, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

"She looks just like you," you admit, fondness clear in your voice because it is so so true. Now that you are properly looking at him, Minnie looks just like Matthew, and telling him that makes him light up even more. "You've got the same smile. The same hair. Hers is a little more red, but it's definitely from you."

You watch Matthew lick at his lips and you want to know what is going on in his head. You think everything is going well, even if you are on the verge of crying. They are tears of relief - relief you weren't told to fuck off or to go get your own lawyer. You don't fully know if Matthew Murdock is a good man, but you're over the first hurdle and the prospects are looking good.

Matthew leans back into his chair, inhaling deeply, as if centering himself, then asks, "Why now? Why find me now?"

"Like I said, I couldn't find you, I didn't know anything about you, really, except what you looked like and you were a lawyer. I did try, I really did, but…" you trail off with a shrug, "I had a newborn."

Matthew seems to accept that answer - it is the truth after all - and continues on, "But you saw the interview... Last night?"

You nod, "I was picking up some dinner and they were playing the news at the diner. I saw it and looked you up and now…now you know."

"Now I know…" Matthew repeats slowly, his smile dropping a little and you wonder if is hitting him in different waves, like it did you - the realization he is a father. You know it is an intense roller coaster and you are not going to try to guide his ride, especially after just kind of dropping it on him.

He taps the manila folder in front of him, the crease returning to his brow, "What is this?"

Your cheeks get hot again and you turn your gaze away from him and back to your lap, "Requests for family medical history and information about how to establish paternity, if that's what you want."

"It is," Matthew rushes out. Your head jerks up and his expression looks serious, "I want that. I want to be in her life."

He sounds so sure of himself that it makes your head spin a little. You built up in your mind he either wouldn't want anything to do with you and Minnie or he was going to try to take her away - you hadn't really considered the obvious option that Matthew would just want to be involved. At least, that is what you are hoping he is implying.

"I won't abandon my daughter," the conviction in his voice startles you, but it also makes your heart twist but in a good way because in that moment, you believe him. "And I won't abandon you. I used to question if I had the right to bring a child into my life, but this isn't a hypothetical anymore…. And I can't.." he trails off and leans back into his chair, rubbing at his mouth again. You don't press, you have no right to when you've come out of the blue and changed his entire world. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't step away now that I know she is out there."

You quickly shake your head at his words, "You don't need to rush into anything, I mean it, I don't want anything from you but for you to have the chance to know her. We can go slow, she's still little, you know? She can't handle a big change. Start small?"

You're more worried about how he is feeling versus what you are. You have at least prepared yourself to have a reaction - he thought he would be having a normal work day and you've given him a lot to process in the last five minutes.

"We can go at your pace, Matthew."

He drops his hand from his face, a smile coming back to his face, "You can call me Matt."

You repeat your preferred name, then apologize, "I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. I didn't want to lose track of you again, but I could have scheduled an appointment."

Matt shakes his head a little, "No, I get it." His hand goes back to the envelope, like touching it is grounding him like squeezing your fingers is grounding you. "I'm glad you came…I'm glad…thank you. Thank you for telling me."

Part of you wants to reach across the desk and squeeze his hand, to give him comfort and let him know everything will be okay, but you don't dare. He's still a stranger, despite everything. You decide pushing past the emotional to the practical might be the best approach for now. You need to get your anxiety to settle now that you know your world isn't going to end and the best thing for that, in your mind, is getting an action plan.

"I don't know what the steps are for doing this," you start, trying to think up ideas as you talk, "but I think maybe we could…get together again and plan things out? Give you time to adjust to the idea and let you think about how you want to move forward?"

Matt nods along with your words, "That sounds like a good idea."

You bend down to grab your phone out of your purse, "I put my contact information in the packet, but could I get yours?"

He waits until you are ready, then gives you his personal number then the office number. You do the quick song and dance of calling his phone, so that he has your number and you wait patiently as he adds you as a contact. Hearing the voice commands to navigate a phone is new to you and once he is done putting in your information, you let your curiosity get the better of you.

"Do you prefer texting or phone calls?"

"Phone calls would be preferable," Matt says as he sets his phone on his desk, having held it up to speak clearly into it, "I have text to speech but it's not always the easiest for texting."

You nod in understanding, "Got it." You squirm in your seat, unsure of what comes next, so you say the very first thing that comes to mind. "You can call anytime. I work from home so you don't have to worry about interrupting anything…like I'm doing with you."

He hums, then asks, "What does Minnie do during the day?"

"She stays with me, mostly. There's a daycare down the block she goes to if I need someone to watch her. That's where she is now."

That makes Matt frown just slightly and part of you panics that he disapproves. "Is it just the two of you…?"

"Yes."

You say it with confidence. You've worked hard to get where you are alone and despite all you've been through, you are proud of that. "My parents passed when I was in college and I don't have any siblings. We've managed to do pretty well on our own. It's not the biggest, but we have a little place in Chelsea."

The little frown stays and you don't know what it means - you hope it's over you not having a big support system and not something else. Matt looks like he is going to respond but a knock at the door cuts him off. You jump at the noise, having totally forgotten there were other people in the office.

Matt looks slightly annoyed when he calls out, "Yes?"

The door opens and the final partner for the law is there. "Pardon the intrusion," he says to you with a nod before addressing Matt, "They've got that guy from last week at the 15th. He's asking for us specifically."

Matt openly scowls before running a hand over his face, "Okay. Give me a few minutes."

Foggy nods before stepping back out and closing the door.

"I'm sorry," Matt says sheepishly.

You cut him off before he can say more, standing as you do, "Please don't be, I really did just barge in on you at work. I can call you later? Or you can call me?"

Matt gets up as well, starting to come around the desk, "I can call you." He hesitates just a second, then ducks his chin, that little smile reappearing and your heart does that funny flip again. "Maybe we can get lunch?"

You smile back, "I would like that. We can start planning." You bite your bottom lip, then add, "I can bring Minnie…?"

Matt's entire face lights up and the awkwardness of trying to end your talk evaporates. "I would like that. A lot." He motions to his desk, "I'll work on getting that back to you. I want to…I want to do this right."

"I do, too."

It feels like a promise. You want to believe Matt - that he wants this and won't disappear at the first minor inconvenience. You've read so many horror stories about bad parents and you don't want any of that for Minnie.

You grab your purse and the water Karen gave you, then finally give Matt a proper look over.

You enjoyed your night together with him. Not only had he been a phenomenal lover, but he had made you smile and laugh. You weren't nearly as anxious then as you are now, but you had been rather nervous being flirted with by a handsome lawyer and he had made you feel at ease. Bringing him home with you had been an easy choice.

He must sense you smiling somehow, maybe you giggled or something, but his smile, which had started to fall, brightens back up.

"Can I ask you something before you go?"

You nod to his question, catch yourself and reply, "Of course."

"Can you tell me what she looks like?"

Guilt courses through you and biting your lip turns painful, "I'm so sorry, of course. Um, I included pictures in the packet with descriptions but, of course." His face drops into something a little nervous so you launch into the description of your daughter, emphasizing how they have the same smile because you can’t get over that. You can't help yourself and start describing some of the pictures you included.

"She has this big noise canceling headband so she can sleep comfortably - she doesn't like loud noises - but because she is three, she refuses to wear it unless it's cute. So we crochet little sleeves for it. One of the pictures is her asleep on our couch, face down, because that's how she sleeps, wearing her favorite sleeve. It's Spider-Man the-"

There's a quick series of taps on the door before it opens again.

"Buddy, we gotta go."

You start to apologize, but Matt speaks over you, his voice a little firm as his expression drops, "I'll be right there, Foggy."

A silent conversation seems to go through them, as Foggy raises his eyebrows at Matt and Matt does the same right back. Foggy steps out of the office, closing the door behind him.

"Let me walk you out?" Matt asks, motioning to the door.

"Thank you."

You let him open the door and you follow him into the reception office. Foggy is looking at his phone while waiting by Karen's desk as she finishes packing her laptop. You cross the room in silence as Matt leads you from the office. Once you are in the hallway, he speaks to you in a soft voice.

"Can I call you tonight?"

"Yes, please."

"Does eight work?"

"That's perfect."

"I'll talk to you then."

You force yourself to be the one to turn away and start walking towards the stairs. As you get to them, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to try to suppress your smile.

Maybe the papers are right and Matthew Murdock is a good man.

You really hope he's a good father too.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #fanfiction #soulie writes

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inklessletter · 4 months

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I didn't expect to be this emotional today, but I feel like I need to share here, where I feel safest.

Not many close people, friends and siblings, know that I draw. Well, they know I've been drawing all my life, but it's not like they're aware what I've been doing lately. Due personal reasons, what I've been sharing this past year here, I kept it for myself until I was ready to share. At first only my bff and my (now) hubby knew about it, but then I grew confident and started sharing with some friends.

This Christmas I shared my socials with a first cousin, which loved what I doing. I told my parents and my in-laws, and they were really supportive. Like, they had no clue who these two guys are or where they come from, but they were all so nice about it.

Yesterday, I showed my godmother (and aunt) my latest piece (Eddie taking the picture). She told me, very effusively how much she loved it, and that she was waiting impatiently for the companion art.

She told me that she would frame them and hang them in her house. I thought that she was only being nice but she jsut sent me a voice note saying that she already had the frames. She sent a picture of them.

Then my mum went by today, and told me that she wanted another two to frame (her favs are the pairing of Eddie and Steve in summer), and another aunt of mine wrote me that how on earth I hadn't shown her sooner what I've been up to. My mother-in-law asked me to send her some of my pictures because she was in a family reunion and wanted to show what her daughter-in-law art skills.

Apparently, my godmother (whom I've inherited the passion for drawing from) had been bragging around.

Fucking bragging.

This may sound small and not a big deal, but to me this is huge. I went online in a rather anonymous way to do my art and my thing and whatever I'm passionate about at the moment, not expecting absolutely anything but heal from a traumatic experience that just dragged me down emotionally at a level of feeling absolutely worthless of any place in any community, with nothing to give, nothing important enought to write down and worth someone else to read.

I can't stress you enough how dizzy this makes me feel, how fortunate, how grateful, of having them in my life.

Just wanted to share that. Thank you for reading this far.

#inklessletter #personal

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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would steve ever insist that eddie comes to basketball games with him just so they have an excuse to get those good seats right at the court that famous people and celebrities usually get?

Eddie is not Steve’s go-to person if he wants basketball tickets.

He goes to Lucas because every doctor knows a doctor that knows someone with season tickets they never use. And also, Steve kinda wants to go to the game with someone who, you know, will actually enjoy being there.

Eddie’s undying hatred of all things sports is, well…undying.

But Steve’s been a Pacers’ fan since the first time his dad shoved a basketball in his hands and taught him how to shoot. He has watched them lose in the playoffs every year that they make it to it, but he’s convinced. 2014 was going to be different.

He just can’t get tickets. He spent all day trying to buy them online and failed, and all the resale tickets are for seats that suck or way over his paygrade. Him and Eddie pay for their own hobbies out of their separate bank accounts, and Steve can’t afford the absolutely ridiculous price that’s being asked so…

“Please?” Steve asked, big puppy eyes and adorable little pout. He knew what he was doing and so did Eddie. “Pretty please? I never ask you for anything, Ed…Okay, fine, except for all the stuff I ask you for, but this is different. It’s a small price to pay to see my team win.”

“Your team that has literally never won in the history of all time?”

“How many championships does Leg-less the loser elf have?” Steve asked.

“…It’s Legolas,” Eddie said. “And he was a part of the fellowship that kinda saved the world.”

“So was I,” Steve pointed out. “And I deserve this.”

Steve didn’t ask for courtside seats. He didn’t ask to be sat among the rich and famous. Hell, he didn’t even ask Eddie to go with him. He just wanted to see if Eddie had a connection that could get him a ticket for a seat that wasn’t in the nosebleeds.

Steve doesn’t really believe that the tickets Eddie showed him are real until they are sitting in their seats – their seats that are courtside and five feet away from Paul George warming up. Steve is so excited to be there that he pretty much misses Eddie shaking someone’s hand right in front of him until he’s nudged in the shoulder, “Babe, you know, Sandy, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says absently, sparing a glance in the direction Eddie was gesturing before looking back out at the court. It takes him a second for his brain to register who he was just looking at and then, “Holy shit, you’re Sandra Bullock.”

She is just as beautiful and as nice as Steve has always thought she was, and she’s amused by him which makes Steve blush. She holds out her hand to him, “And you are…”

“I’m…” Steve trails off, only picking back up his train of thought when Eddie laughs loudly beside him. “Steve. I’m Steve. Uh, Harrington. Eddie’s – I’m – we’re together, by law.”

“We’re married,” Eddie grinned, throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulder, and wiggling his wedding ring at her. “Still working on how to tell people, obviously.”

She congratulates them and talks to them a bit about the game (bring Steve out of his starstruck stupor), and even buys them champagne as a late little wedding gift. It’s a blast.

Eddie spends half the game flinching every time the ball bounces a little too close or a player nearly ends up in their lap, but Steve is loving all of it. The other half of the time, Eddie is having Steve explain what’s going on and who the players are, or he’s talking to the guy next to him.

It’s some square jawed model type that Steve doesn’t recognize and also, doesn’t like. He’s a little too friendly with his husband, especially when he curled a piece of Eddie’s hair around his finger. When the two of them end up on the kiss cam together, Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to register it before Steve pulls him nearly out of the camera frame and kisses him.

Later, fans will make jokes about the pictures of that night because it’s very clear that Steve and Eddie switched seats.

#channeling this pictures of Ethan Hawke and his son switching seats so he can talk to Rihanna #btw I don’t know anything about basketball. all if this was googled #Steve’s like: remember when I got brain damage saving the world? buy me tickets for it #And Eddie every time a player nearly collides with the first row: How is this legal or safe?#eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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1moremilgram-enjoyer · 7 months

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Kotoko's Clothes Throughout HARROW

CW Death and murder, vigilantism, online radicalization, mentions of kidnapping, Little Red Riding Hood (so a wolf eating someone and animal death)

In my Kotoko brainrot arc (aka working on a full HARROW analysis), and I think it's really interesting how much Kotoko's clothes seem to change throughout HARROW. Changing clothes in general usually represents character change, which certainly fits how much Kotoko's attitude towards everything seems to switch up as she becomes more and more radicalized (presumably by online discourse seeing some of the other stuff in the MV) and violent. Not to mention the whole Red Riding Hood thing. Let's take a look!

(Btw, I'm not going to talk about the weird changing clothes at the end of the MV, where her clothes are completely different when she sees the kidnapping than when she actually kills the serial killer. It's too much of a mess for this post, so I'll leave it for the full analysis)

(This has probably been done before but you can't stop me from posting >:D)

So, there's four distinct fits Kotoko wears in HARROW, which I'll call White Jacket, Blue and Yellow Jacket, Foggy Forest Fit, Murder Fit. (Clarification: I don't think she actually killed the alley dude, I'm calling it that exclusively for the final murder)

Let's go one by one, in order of appearance. White Jacket shows up first. It's made up of, as you can imagine, a white jacket with red streaks, shorts of the same color, a black tank top, and white shoes.

The interesting thing about this outfit is that it shows up first, then completely disappears after Kotoko attacks the man in the alley. Even when we later see her back in the studio, by that point she's already wearing her red hoodie. This makes sense, as the primary color used here is white. In this MV, I believe white is being used to represent purity of some kind, while red represents danger and aggression. So in this outfit, we see a Kotoko yet untainted by violence (white), but who already has that latent danger lurking underneath (red streaks). Hell, for all we know, she hasn't even dropped out of the faculty of law at this point.

(T1) Q7: What did you study at university?

KY: For a while, I studied at the faculty of law. There's something I want to do, so I'm currently taking a break from studies, though.

But also worth noting, in that first shot, the red hoodie she uses to murder is already behind her. Again, latent danger.

Her shoes are also important, because for Kotoko, shoes are her murder weapon. But not these shoes. The white, pure shoes are those of an innocent individual. In this case, it's because she literally hasn't done anything with them yet.

Finally, the black tank top, which she shares with her "murder" outfit. Allowing myself to go a bit insane, this is the piece of clothing literally closest to her heart. The black doesn't represent evil, but rather grief and pain, I believe.

Becoming light-headed again, it all becomes crazy, the normalcy sought for, fading away, everytime death comes. The soul moves forward - I hate all the evils in this world, I feel like I’m about to break The surrounding net covered with poison

Want to find “HARROW” “HARROW” I feel like I’m going crazy after straining my nerves The person that can’t be saved, is now understanding the abnormality

(Note: I personally think the person being distressed (harrow-ed) is Kotoko herself, becoming distressed at the world's evils. I also happen to think she considers herself "the person that can't be saved" but that's for another time)

So yeah, Kotoko's suffering a lot. We been knew.

Next up we have the "field investigation" fit, the one with the blue and yellow jacket.

Apart from the jacket, she wears a cap of the same brand, Jacques Roulet (I talked about that in this post), and some shorts. As you can see, her shoes are generally hidden, but I think they're the white ones? Either pair would make some sense, but the white ones fit better since Kotoko never performs any violent actions in this outfit.

As stated, this is the outfit Kotoko uses to investigate outside. Going in person to check out crime scenes, talking to the one guy... Thus, the blue of her jacket likely refers to wisdom, patience, intelligence, that kind of thing. It's "calmer" than the colors of the other outfits, because Kotoko is not showing her more dangerous parts (red).

See, the main thing about this design is that Kotoko is being guarded when she wears it. Note that this is the only one where she doesn't show her undershirt, which before I related to her feelings. The cap serves to further imply that, she's keeping herself vaguely hidden. Basically, in this fit, Kotoko is both hiding her feelings and vulnerabilities, as well as "hiding her fangs", if that makes sense. Presenting herself as calmer, more put together, and more rational than she actually is.

However, there's still the yellow. I think that one's meant to represent fun; Kotoko still enjoys what she's doing here. It may even be somewhat stylized as a thunderbolt, because electricity is usually related to excitement. As shown in her T1 Voice Reveal distorted line:

...Fufu... This feels so good.

(I would like to say that she obviously doesn't do vigilantism just for fun, because that's a weird take I've seen mentioned. She has other reasons, she just happens to enjoy it a bit)

The point is that this "fun" is still muted in comparison to the blue of the jacket, because it's essentially in the background. Kotoko's analysis and investigations are the most important parts of these scenes, the fact she happens to enjoy vigilantism is sort of incidental.

Last note for this one, having a "yellow streak" means being cowardly, but that doesn't really apply to Kotoko so we ignore it.

Then we have the outfit seen in the forest scenes. Red hoodie, white tank top, white shoes, black shorts. This one remains the same in all of these scenes.

The important thing to note here is that, because this is the one outfit we see exist inside her mind, this is how Kotoko sees herself, or more likely, how she would like to see herself. Note the black tanktop of despair (Milgram makes you say some ridiculouos shit huh) has been replaced with a pure white tanktop, because Kotoko doesn't want to be sad and hurt. Obviously. Similarly, her shoes remain white even after she attacks Oshii, because she still considers herself "innocent" in the sense of "justified."

Still, though, her hoodie is the red one she wears while murdering. Because she considers herself dangerous and powerful. And she is, girlboss stay winning (preferably away from the other prisoners though).

One important thing which many have pointed out before me is that, by virtue of wearing this red hoodie and being in a forest with wolves, this outfit seems connected to the story of Red Riding Hood. How exactly is a fun question, especially since Red Riding Hood is a fairy tale and thus doesn't have an official version, but let's see.

I imagine you know the gist of the story. Red Riding Hood (RRH) is a girl tasked with delivering food to her grandma, who is sickly and thus weak, but along the trail finds a wolf who asks her where she's going. The wolf then goes ahead as RRH gets distracted, and the wolf ends up eating the grandma and disguising as her. When RRH arrives at the house, she notices the grandma looks slightly different, before she gets eaten too. In later tellings a huntsman comes in and cuts the wolf's stomach open, allowing the grandma and RRH to escape unharmed, somehow. The wolf is also insanely resilient evidently, as it's still alive at this point, but the humans fill its stomach with rocks and then it dies.

... This story is a lot darker than I remembered.

We already have a few superficially shared themes with Kotoko. Protecting the weak, calling out deception... wolves-

In particular, being devoured by the wolf could be seen as Kotoko being consumed by the radicalization which led her to murder. This is especially notable because of the actual underlying themes of Red Riding Hood. See, the story is generally interpreted to be about "rites of passage" and rebirth, where RRH exiting the wolf's stomach is the rebirth. Generally it's connected more to children growing up and going through puberty, but for Kotoko we need a more general reading. As I said before, changing clothes is sometimes considered a symbol of change of character, and Kotoko certainly changes a bit throughout HARROW. For example, by forming an idea of what a "win" entails in the context of her vigilantism.

Stained emotions, what is winning or losing?

“I didn’t mean to offend”, “I won’t do it again” How many wins in a row?

Hell, one of the last lyrics in the song, which plays over a scene of the foggy forest, explicitly says it.

Newly born “HARROW” “HARROW”

And if you need any more symbolism, Red Riding Hood is also sometimes interpreted as representing natural cycles, with the girl being the sun (that's why her cloak is red) and the wolf being the night "eating" her, before dawn (when the girl gets out of the stomach). A completion of one of these cycles is also a symbol of change and rebirth;

Goodnight “HARROW” “HARROW” Laugh and I can get to like myself

so when Kotoko says "goodnight" to herself, she's making an oath to change, say goodbye to the old her and greet dawn with a new version of herself, one which she actually likes ("laugh and I can get to like myself").

And there is an actual cycle referenced in the video. The moon in the forest scenes is always a waning moon, except at the end, where it's a full moon, which is not just connected to werewolves and thus indicates Kotoko "completing her transformation and getting her fangs", but it also represents the end of the lunar cycle. Again, rebirth.

Not to mention the fact dawn breaks in the last scene.

You get it? Natural cycles being completed, being reborn, etc. Kotoko transforms herself significantly as she kills the "wolf", probably the serial killer dude.

And yet, her clothes in these forest sections never changes. To me, this shows a disconnect between how Kotoko sees herself and the way she actually is.

Timelines - 20/6/18 Kotoko: Treat you [Amane] like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today.

This is demonstrably false. I just spent several paragraphs talking about how much Kotoko changes throughout HARROW, let alone during the last 8 years of her life. The point is that Kotoko doesn't realize how radicalized she's becoming while browsing all the websites we see her going on during the video. And you know, there's probably some interesting social commentary and character complexity to talk about there, but if I get too much into it I will be here forever, so I'll leave that as food for thought.

Anyways, you may have noticed I'm not really talking about the pants. You're right! Moving on.

Finally, her murder fit. Same red hoodie as last one, but with a black tanktop and black leggings.

Her shoes are also different, a pair of men's shoes which are also her murder weapon. You see how they're (primarily) grey instead of white? Get it? Because she sees herself as only good and morally right, but she's (say it with me everyone) morally gray.

(Using both spellings to bother everyone)

I've already talked about how her red hoodie represents her violence and danger, literally covering up her black tank top of despair (might as well just run with the term).

Finally, I know I haven't been talking about the pants since I didn't see anything too interesting, but the change from shorts to leggings did catch my eye. However, I think that may just be a more 'practical' change as opposed to a 'symbolism' change. I imagine that if you're doing something illegal like beating up some dude in an alley, you'd feel more comfortable the less skin you showed, even if rationally there shouldn't be any way to identify Kotoko just by her legs.

I know I wouldn't kill with shorts and a t-shirt, but give me some leggings though, and I'm already looking at Amane's mother like she isn't dead enough yet-

Ehem. Disregard that last point.

Well, that's the end! As I said, I'm not gonna deal with the change of clothing at the end of the video, because to explain that I would have to explain an entire murder theory and talk about how I don't actually think Kotoko ever saw the exact scenes we see in the small room with the wooden floor, etc, which is all just too complicated for what's supposed to be a relatively short post. I'll address it in my full analysis, but there's too much going on for me to explain it here. With that said, I hope you enjoyed reading! Take care!

#milgram #milgram project #kotoko yuzuhira #harrow mv #little red riding hood #we're tagging it #milgram analysis

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the-24-7-lawlu-library · 3 months

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Poll Vote Slow Burn

Hi lovely readers :D Here are your Slow Burn recommendations for the weekend! Enjoy Reading <3

baby it's cold outside by betsib (T)

They meet as children, when Luffy is staying in North Blue one winter and sees snow for the first time. Fifteen years later they meet again, when Law is in desperate need of a date for his uncle's Christmas party. Written for Truffyfest Secret Santa 2023

Warmth by orphan_account (M)

Law Trafalgar is twenty-six, Male Model of the Year, and an absolute wreck. Luffy's the guy he almost punches in the park. Somehow, despite this brief encounter, Law feels a warmth whenever he thinks of the apparent teenager in a straw hat that he hasn't felt since—hasn't felt in a while.

Sunshine smile and bloody teeth. by babyeblue_bb (T)

Five times Law saves Luffy from a certain death. And one time he is the one who needs to be saved.

The boy of sea and storm by AnnieDeOdair (M)

"You are Torao, right?" The boy asked after a few minutes in silence. Law frowned. "I am Trafalgar Law," he corrected, although he didn't know if he was talking about him. "Yeah, Torao," Luffy repeated as if saying it well. “The other Kamabakka doctor. At last I know you, everyone talks about you.” Law raised an eyebrow confused because he didn't think anyone was talking about him. He was just a doctor in the same organization that Luffy had his soccer team on. "I think it's the other way around," Law replied without taking his eyes off the street and his attention on the cell phone. “I feel like everyone talks about you all the time.”

Softly Stained with Spring by lululawlawlu (T)

Law—being with him is the best feeling imaginable. It‘s the perfect kind of happiness mixed with a little excitement. Just having adventures with Law makes those adventures all the more exciting.

Ghost Roommate by vettany2 (T)

Law is a med student in the last grade of uni. For better focus on his final year studies, he decides to leave the uni dormitory and rent a flat just for himself. Little did he know that he's not gonna be alone there.

Addicted to your voice by Sakuya_Serenity_Kira (E)

Luffy was an orphant. He visited school, had friends, but sometimes... he was lonely. Till he found someone to talk to - online. He didn't know anything about this voice at the beginning... but he started liking him...

Law of Hearts by 32Rats_In_A_Straw_Hat (T)

Law thought he was making a deal with a devil when he formed an alliance with Luffy; turns out he was making a deal with an idiot. Now he's stranded aboard the Thousand Sunny with a captain who doesn't know the meaning of personal space, doesn't call him by his actual name, and even forces himself into Law's bed. But you know what? Maybe Law likes it all just a little bit more than he lets on, even if he won't admit it to himself.

-Mod Raiya

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shiftingconfessions · 1 month

Note

Why getting offended over something ANOTHER person will do in ANOTHER reality? It has nothing to do with you, regardless if you agree or not with their choices. The problems of THIS reality are the problems of THIS reality. To get into shifting, first accept infinity. Accept that shifting is not moral, ethic, logical. Accept real change. Your choosen life is not a book. You are not writing a book. It's not a show people from here will be watching.

This will probably be the last time I speak about it. Don't commit to something you can't understand or don't care to understand. Don't commit to a practice you don't really know about. You'll get into shifting and see people publicly saying they are doing something in their dr's you don't agree with. You know what to do about that? Absolutely nothing. If you can't accept this, maybe shifting is not for you.

Ego, misinformation, lies aren't welcome in spirituality or any cosmic practice either. Log off TikTok. Log off Instagram. Shifting is not on the screen, neither on your head. Try taking it a little more seriously instead of a fun hobby that came out of TikTok. Do not trust everything blindly. What others say of shifting (especially the new age) cannot always be true.

There are people who lie about their experiences and get away with it because everyone refuses to NOT believe everything. Seriously, stop believing every pseudo post online.

You may not agree with me. That's completely fine. Still, in these last few years, TikTok surely made people start twisting and confusing the practice. In science and spirituality, experimenting, learning, and studying is essential. Also, yes, shifting can be a mix of beliefs. Yes, people can believe in whatever they want, but it becomes dangerous when it crosses the line. I'll always say this: be careful with yourself, your limits and mental health. Do not let the despair or urgency mess with your head.

Also, if someone race changes, ages themselves down or whatever they do with THEIR lives is THEIR choice. You clearly don't understand anything about infinity if you keep bothered by people doing these things. "It's bad" "only x people believe it's okay", literally, you haven't known the real community to say this. There are people from multiple races who race changes in their dr's, age themselves down, do whatever they want. You should do what makes you comfortable. Infinity is not about what's right and wrong. It doesn't exist when we talk about multiverse/reality switching. Most of these cases are stupid and most of these people won't even come back after they shift, stop being so bothered. Later, you complain that no one shares stories or dr things anymore. The community is dying etc etc. Of course it is and it will keep on fading away because of stupid shaming you do towards other's lives that has NOTHING to do with yours. Absolutely nothing. YOU create problems that don't even exist in the whole shifting concept and if you hate this, go to a reality where everything is exactly as you want. Every shifter follows what you want them to. You're also a shifter, right?

Infinity is not a fairytale and it can be quite "ugly" to our human minds. Man made laws do not apply to this. It's not about having no morals, but about understanding that the whole shifting concept doesn't need them. Infinity doesn't need it. Spirituality doesn't need it. People have free will, as well as you. You can have your opinions, but shifting is not about that. You keep killing the practice every time you be like "this is bad" "this is wrong" "this is problematic" If you think so, then quit, or at least try to be more open minded. You have the option to block people and ignore them if you don't agree with them. You have the option to quit if you can't fathom the rawness of shifting.

Take care of YOUR lives. Do not create discussions over all of it. Personally, I think these opinions are just personal thoughts of a quite closed minded person. Don't speak about infinity if you're going to keep making posts about "shifting things that don't sit well with me", "things you shouldn't do in your Dr" etc. It doesn't sit well with you because you can't understand the practice and what you're trying to do. You all want to be spiritual and shift but only when it's romanticized and "polite". When the real spirituality and the real shifting comes through, you get weirded out. You know why? That's because you don't understand a single thing of what you claim to be. You're just trying to be trendy, most probably. Non-human things won't adapt to your tiny human mind. YOU adapt to them.

I won't try to change your mind. I have no obligation. If you want to keep pretending to understand things and then keep making up discussions, it's your problem. You learn spirituality off TikTok and Instagram and go around claiming to be spiritual. You learn shifting off TikTok and go around claiming to be a shifter. Get outside and start truly learning something for once.

"I studied and still think it's wrong" then don't practice, or at least, stop sharing your opinions as solid facts/rules. Stop shaming others. Keep it to yourself. You're not "calling problems out", you're CREATING problems. You're making a new shifting inside your head to adapt to yourself. YOU adapt to shifting, not the opposite.

"this community is so problematic" then quit. No one is holding you hostage. I ain't going to be the good positive affectionate shifter that will keep trying to motivate you. Besides, you hating on race changers or people who do "wrong" things in their dr's, yet, you use THEIR methods, THEIR informations. Hope you know that. If you're unhappy, then start doing your own stuff and, again, shift to a reality where the community has the same thoughts as you etc.

I had more to say, but I'll just stop by here because I know these words won't change anything. Some of you just see shifting as a fanfiction and treat spirituality as an accessory and your behavior shows it.

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting realities #desired reality #shifting community #shifting #shiftcourse

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ryuichirou · 1 month

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Replies

A couple of replies today!

Anonymous asked:

Edmundedmundedmundedmundedmundedmundnebulacollegeedmund YESSS I have been fed content and I'm so motherfucking happy

The boy looks wonderful in both bunny suits ❤️

Hehehe thank you so much!! I love love love drawing boys in bunny suits, so I am very happy for the opportunity to draw Edmund wearing it…both options~

Anonymous asked:

If Jack and Ortho sees Vil in that outfit, I'm sure they find it attractive.

Of course they will, everyone would~ not only these two.

(related to the latest event)

But I would love to see their reaction to Vil in that outfit as well… I feel like Jack would get visibly flustered, but wouldn’t look away even for a moment.

Ortho would take pictures and record Vil just so he always has the image of Vil looking so good in his head lol

Anonymous asked:

Ok, but those Crewel/Deuce comics, fulfilling another fantasy of mine 😩👌

Actually, the funniest thing is that I've always imagined that those two would have a secret relationship and only would start "officially" dating when Deuce graduated nrc. Like on the weekends, Deuce would tell people that he's going to visit his mom or a cousin, but in reality, he's going to Crewel's place for "extra credit."

Funny scenario: 19/20 y/o Deuce posting on Magicam that he's in a relationship with Divus and all his notifs are from his friends blasting "ayo? 🤨" Then he gets a text from his mom like "DeeDee, you know I will support you in everything and anything but don't make the same mistakes as I did when I was younger, this is how you were born 😔"

(related to this comic; sorry for the late reply!)

Thank you, Anon, I am happy you liked the comic!

Out of all the first years, Deuce does feel like the type to officially go out with a teacher after graduating lol I can’t explain it, but it feels right in a weird way. I wonder if any of the first years would suspect that Deuce isn’t really visiting his mom or a cousin whenever he leaves to spend time with Crewel…

Also! His poor mother, this boy just keeps making her worry lol At least Deuce isn’t going to get pregnant, so that should be a relief…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

If we had a battle of crossovers, who would win: GreenViolet or LilIdia

Hmm, how are they fighting? Is this a fist fight? Then Lilidia, because Lilia would outsmart Greenhill, and Violet and Idia both are wimps who can’t fight lol

In terms of a relationship… it’s a bit difficult to compare them because both couples are kind of confused within themselves. Greenhill is a bit oblivious about Violet’s feelings, and Lilidia are both confused about them being online friends lol so now I imagine these four looking at each other confused because they don’t know why are they even here and what is going on.

If both ships are established relationships though, it would be a tough fight, because Greenhill and Lilia are both competitive.

GreenViolet could win because Greenhill knows Violet better than Lilia knows Idia. And Lilidia could win because Lilia is a war veteran who would get super excited about winning and then teasing Idia about them being the best couple ever…

Anonymous asked:

All You Wanna Do by Samantha Pauly, the live Broadway version reminds me of Alois. Especially the last two minutes…

Wow, listening to this while thinking about Alois was quite a journey! 😬 It really does fit him in a lot of ways, and the last two minutes are especially heartbreaking. Ghhh I love Alois’ story so much.

Thank you for sharing, Anon.

Anonymous asked:

The last ask regarding the Leech parents and their reputation if both of their sons started dating. Out of all the characters you ship them with, which one would make the best impression? My first thought was 🥁 Riddle 🥁

If Floyd would ever settle down (which is hard to imagine with his unpredictable personality), it would definitely be with Riddle. I also think Riddle would make a great son-in-law. Even though Riddle would be very nervous meeting The Leech parents. Riddle Leech has a nice ring to it. Maybe Floyd would take Riddle underwater to live in the coral sea. Goldfish Riddle confirmed??

But then again, I wonder how Mrs. Rosehearts would feel if her son decided to marry the son of a "Yakuza" boss. Mrs. Rosehearts and Mrs. Leech meeting each other?! 👀

(this is related to this reply)

Sorry for the late reply, Anon! Your ask got me thinking as well, as you can see lol

The Leech parents would absolutely love Riddle! Both because he is hilarious (so uptight, I mean, upstanding!) and because he is genuinely a surprisingly good pick. Just like you said, he is so polite, so well-educated, at times it almost feels too good to be true, how come Floyd of all people brought home such a good boy? They always expected Jade to be the one… They’ll absolutely let the boys know about it lol embarrassing all of them.

Riddle would be super nervous and a bit scared, but parents are parents, even if they are scary fish mafia parents. So he has to be respectful and polite. Which is honestly only going to amuse Mama and Papa more – Riddle is so tiny and cute with his baby face and tiny hands and stuff, but oh so serious. He’s like a baby doll… they would woobify him a lot lol and tease him in general, but always try to be stealthy about it. Maybe they just don’t want to scare him away because there is no way Floyd finds someone else similar to Riddle lol

Also! Riddle being a goldfish merman is such a fun theme, I love it when people draw him like that. Floyd really should turn him into a merman, poor Riddle is going to be so confused. He is reversed Ariel lol

Oh Mrs Rosehearts is going to hate this so much… Leaving her alone with Mrs Leech is such a bad idea, because Mama Leech is going to play along at first, complaining about how having sons is such a huge source of stress, how rude and ungrateful they are sometimes, and just how much she wants them to just be good and proper at everything that they do. Mama Rosehearts could even think that they are on the same page at first (even though this Leech woman is way too dramatic…)… Mama Leech would just troll her the entire time, just as she does with everyone she talks to… but she’ll like her a lot, she’ll consider her a good friend afterwards <3 and call her every day.

Another potential partner that the Leech parents would love is Idia, and we have some thoughts about them, but I’ll share them a bit later – there is another ask related to this topic that I’ll try to write a proper reply tomorrow. So consider this a teaser and thank you for your patience 👀

#replies

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 1 year

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Coming out to the batfam as asexual

A/n: So asexuals are all different, even then I tried to make it as universal as possible but if you're sex favorable (I'm not so that's probably partially why I wrote it like that) this one (unfortunately) might not be for you!

Warnings: Being scared to come out, mentions of aphobia and killing people, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The reader is gender neutral!

Requested by: @bandshirts-andbooks

Ironically for being the world's best detectives no one really caught on

I think the only person who might of is Cass, but it's nothing for sure, she just saw your body language would change slightly when people talked about sex

The first person you tell is Alfred

You were probably having a bad day, maybe seeing some straight people talk about ace people in a really negative way, and perhaps some queer people online who told you, that ace people didn't belong in the community

And people just being shitheads in general towards the queer community and just all these laws being made against trans people everywhere can really wear someone down, right?

So it's the middle of the night and you're in the kitchen crying because it's just been a bad day

And Alfred comes in, "Mx. L/n are you alright?"

After you were adopted you never got Bruce's last name

"Ah, yes! Don't worry it's nothing!"

🥹

All it takes is one raised eyebrow from him and you're quickly defeated, and he pulls out a chair and sits next to you

"Don't let things fester for too long Mx. L/n, you know what happens to your brothers when they do."

Sighing you wring your hands through your hair (something you picked up from your father) "I just-"

"Alfred I think I'm asexual."

"There's a silence and half your brain is thinking maybe Alfred doesn't know what it is and the other half think he hates you now

"Mx. L/n you do not "think so" I'm pretty sure you know."

And that in itself is confirmation that he supports you, the way he's smiling makes you wonder how you could think anything else

Okay next you come out to Cass

Because Alfred slyly told you she might already know

She's supportive and tells you in her own way that she would hurt anyone who isn't

I also think she understands you the most because I headcanon (is it canon???) that Cass is asexual

So she's who you go for to vent, and eventually she'll come out to you as ace too!

Then there's Stephanie and Barbra

Steph squeals; "Another member of the alphabet mafia!" And Barbra recomends a bunch of asexual groups online where they share their personal experiences

While all this fluffiness is happening the batboys tm are trying to get back at you for winning the prank war last week

Naturally they go into your dating history, because why not?

Murder might be committed by Cass after this

There aren't very many people but there's ONE person from your high school days

And thanks to Tim's savvy tech skills they somehow find out you're a virgin

(don't ask)

At this point Damian didn't really know the plan, but he's mostly the distraction anyways!

In the past you had told them you weren't one

High school was not good for your baby ace ass alright?

Meaning they thought it was fair game because they were getting back at you for lying and winning the prank war

Imagine your surprise when at a rare dinner Jason, Tim, and Dick are glancing at each other mischievously

Bruce looks like he has no idea what's going on and Damian (for once) looks oddly innocent

"You know how we use to say Jason gets no bitches" Dick starts up

"Hey!"

"Well little Timmy here." Dick continues ignoring an angry Jay. "Found out you're worse than Jaybird and are a Virgin."

You just stare dumbfounded at their giggling faces

"I didn't know that this was part of the plan." Damian mutters

At this point you were much more confident in yourself and had momentairly forgetten that Bruce was still in the room

Just imagine seeing those faces

when you finally tell them

"I'm asexual fuckwads."

Their faces go BEAT RED

"Oh, um..."

"Also Tim, idk how you found out I was still a virgin, but if you do anything like that again..."

The look on Tim's face - it was very clear that your threat got through to him

Then you remembered Bruce was still in the room

Slowly you turned your head to face him

Instead of saying anything he just gave you a smile

That's how you came out to the Batfam, from being scared, to be a confident badass

-thedelusionreaderbitch

dc taglist: no one yet!

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mariaofdoranelle · 10 months

Text

Look at Us Now - ch. 13

Fic masterlist

Thank you for your patience ❤️

This chapter is my baby. I know I say this every time, but some of the scenes took me longer to write than entire chapters. So *cracks knuckles* if you don’t like it… just kidding I won’t do anything 😂 but please don’t let me know if that’s the case lmaoo

Words: 4,9k

Warnings: language, postpartum depression

The yet to be named Galathynius-Whitethorn firstborn came into the world on October 19th, after 13 hours of labor.

Rowan almost lost his mind with worry. It was the best day of his life.

Aedion was holding the baby, his eyes darting between Rowan and the little bundle on his arms. “Holy rutting Mala, the baby is Rowan’s.”

Aelin gave him an unamused look from the hospital bed. “You just figured that one out?”

“You don’t get it.” He lifted the baby so her face would be side by side with Rowan’s from Aedion’s point of view. “It’s like he made a girl clone of himself. It’s day one, and she’s already frowning like Whitethorn.”

To be honest, Rowan was more focused on the way Aelin’s cousin was carrying the baby than on his words. Aedion Ashryver wasn’t exactly a graceful person, and watching him carry that very fragile baby made Rowan a little tense.

”Enough of that.” Orlon took the baby from Aedion’s arms, making Rowan’s shoulders drop an inch. “Do you have no clue about what to name her?”

Aelin and Rowan exchanged a look, then she said, “Our favorite so far is Maisie.”

“It’s beautiful!” Philippa beamed, studying Aelin with a fond look while Orlon agreed with her.

Darrow came closer to his husband and cooed at the little one. “It suits her.”

“I don’t know.” Aedion wrinkled his nose. “I like Aedinna better.”

“Aedion,” Philippa cautioned.

Aelin was shooting daggers at him, jaw tight as she grabbed the tissue box from the bedside table.

Rowan went stiff. “That’s enough—“

Smirking, Aedion added, “Or Wiggly Jiggly—“

“Shut up!” Aelin aimed the tissue box at her cousin and sent it flying across the room. “You’re such a fucking loser!”

“Aw.” Aelin’s cousin beamed. “Is it the first time you curse in front of the baby?”

Instead of the usual glaring that was expected, Aelin’s face faltered. She clamped her lips together and blinked, but at the same time the baby started fussing on Orlon’s arms, then he immediately gave her back to Aelin, not knowing what to do.

Enough of visitors. Rowan’s blood was beginning to boil under his skin, so he looked at his watch. His online sources said the visits shouldn’t be longer than 30 minutes, and they’ve been here for 32 already. It was time to kick everyone out.

“Aedion. Out,” Rowan said through gritted teeth, low but stern. He didn’t give a fuck that Aelin’s cousin was raised as her brother or how they’d tease each other. She got upset, and Rowan only had one job. He gave Orlon, Darrow and Philippa something that could at least resemble a smile. “Please.”

The elder ones of the family were good sports about being kicked out, just taking a second to say their goodbyes before leaving.

Except that when Rowan was holding the door for them to leave, Darrow asked to talk outside and led him a few steps away from everyone, enough to give them some privacy.

“I won’t apologize for putting you in jail.”

Rowan gave him a stiff nod. “I don’t expect you to, sir.”

“Good.” Colonel Darrow gave him a guarded look. “But I was upset, and I put Military Law before my family’s trust. That’s not something I’m proud of. It put me in enough trouble at home.”

Rowan would never know what happened in his house besides Aelin moving out, and he might not want to. Whatever his intentions were, Rowan broke the law, and his sentence for improper sexual conduct was fair. The only person to blame was himself.

“Because you are family now, Rowan, and I want you to feel welcome with Orlon and I.”

Rowan’s breath hitched until his body restarted so he could swallow a lump in his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

“But don’t fuck up again. I’m still your superior at work.”

There was not a chance Rowan would have sex inside base again. Not after going to the guardhouse for it, not after Aelin.

“There’ll be nothing but teaching at the Training Center, Colonel.” Rowan did his best to bite back a smile. “I have everything I could ask for at home.”

Darrow gave one last tap on Rowan’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you, kid.”

He watched Aelin’s family leave—his family too now, not his words—but not for long. He quickly went back to the room, his eyes meeting Aelin’s as soon as he entered the room again.

She looked nothing short of heavenly today in the Air Force’s maternity ward.

Aelin moved to the side a little, silently telling him to join her in the bed. She didn’t need to ask twice. There was a lot of paperwork waiting for Rowan, but it wouldn’t be done until they decided the baby’s name.

They just stayed there for a moment, watching their baby’s rosy cheeks—she was all bundled up, so it was all they could see—the loudest thing in the room being the AC running.

Rowan chewed on his lip, thinking about her telling her uncle she liked ‘Maisie’ best. “You don’t mind naming her after a junkie’s song?”

“What? No.” Aelin gave him a confused look. “The name is so cute, and my dad was a fan. I thought you were the one who didn’t want it.”

”You know…” a gentle kiss on the crown of Aelin’s head. “I have really good memories attached to that song.”

“So?”

Rowan caressed his daughter’s chubby cheeks. “I think Maisie is ready for another nap.”

Aelin smiled against his chest. ”So is Maisie’s mother.”

He brushed her hair back with his fingers and said, “Me too. Maybe I should teach Maisie’s first lesson on adulthood and make her fill her own paperwork.”

Aelin mentioned to pinch his side, but Rowan grabbed her hand before the minor assault. He restrained his hug as much as he could, careful with her tired postpartum body, and cuddled Aelin to sleep.

Of all the pain Rowan had to endure in his life, his favorite so far was feeling his cheeks hurt from grinning so much. All because of his girls.

He was living with Aelin, the mother of his child. Rowan had the whole package already, he just needed to convince Aelin of one thing.

Rowan held her tightly, and there was something in his mind as he did, repeating itself like a broken record while he felt it take over his body and soul.

He loved her

˜˜

Turns out pursuing Aelin while having a newborn was harder than Rowan thought.

Between tending Maisie and giving Aelin space to recover from giving birth, the last thing on Rowan’s mind was his own dick. Actually, pursuing the woman he loved in hopes to become an official family with her went beyond ‘thinking with his dick’, but that’s how Rowan felt when he considered asking her that when she looked so… Aelin was far from fragile, but she still seemed to be overwhelmed by postpartum hormones, or whatever made new moms sad.

Rowan opened the fridge and ran a hand through his face, not missing the sharpness of his unshaved cheek. Did Maisie drink all those bottles already? They were prioritizing breastfeeding, but Rowan would do anything to let Aelin rest as much as she could.

He was so sure her insomnia would end with the pregnancy, but she seemed to sleep even less now that Maisie was here.

“Rowan!”

He blinked, jerking towards the stove, where his mom was. “What?”

At first, they dismissed his mother when she first offered to spend a few weeks with them until things were settled, but now Rowan thanked her every night for insisting to stay. He had just realized how demanding a two-week-old can be.

“Were you listening to me?”

Rowan grimaced. “Can’t say I was, sorry.”

Rory’s shoulders dropped, nothing but fondness in her gaze. “Did you talk to Aelin?”

Rowan settled close to his mother to wash a few dirty bottles. “She told me she’s fine.”

His mother had her I-know-it-all look, the same one she gave him when Rowan was a teenager grew like a tree, but wouldn’t admit he was taking workout supplements.

“Could you not?” Rowan gave her a look to rival her Mom Look. He failed miserably.

She was turning the beef around on the pan, frowning at the half-cooked meat. “I’ve seen a lot of new moms, Rowan. I know what a happy one looks like.”

He flexed his jaw, scrubbing the bottle harder than necessary. “If you’ve seen a lot of new moms, you know they get overwhelmed after birth.”

Rory turned back to work on dinner. “It’d be a lot easier on her if she had an actual partner, you know?”

His neck stiffened, his pulse faster in a heartbeat. Rory’s hints about him marrying Aelin had gotten less and less subtle as the months passed. As much as Rowan wanted to do that, those comments still irked him.

“You’re telling me she won’t be happy until we’re married and I put a white picket fence around the house?”

“I’m not telling you to marry her because of whatever people my age say a family should look like.” Rory gave him a dagger-sharp look. “I’m telling you to marry Aelin because you’re in love, but you two don’t seem to know what to do with that.”

His chest tightened, and Rowan wouldn’t look Rory in the eye. “It’s complicated.”

Her posture relaxed, and her eyes and tone were a lot softer when she said, “It’s not. You see what you want, and you seize it.”

Rowan felt his throat closing, and he just rushed with the rest of the dishes before leaving to check on Aelin and Maisie. For Mala’s sake, was his mother this desperate for a daughter-in-law?

He stood by the open door, watching them before announcing his arrival. Aelin’s hand was gentle but restless as she patted Maisie’s back, her eyes distant as she tried to burp the little girl.

Rowan would act on his feelings when the time was right, he was happy to just watch his family in the meanwhile.

And Aelin… she was recovering from giving birth. That’s the reason she wouldn’t get out of bed.

He sat beside her on the bed. “She’s done feeding?”

“Not quite.”

Rowan extended both hands. “Can I try?”

Since the usual technique wasn’t working, Rowan decided to try something he saw online. He held Maisie against his chest and shoulder as usual, but gently swiveled her bottom instead of patting her back.

Until the cutest little burp echoed through Aelin’s room. A completely different experience from the ones he’s used to hearing at the Air Force’s mess hall.

”There she is.” He kissed Maisie’s belly and held her in front of him, father and daughter staring at each other with the same pine green eyes. “Did you like Mommy’s dinner?”

“She better enjoy it while she can, that’s the only dinner I can make.”

Rowan squeezed her hand. “I’ll take care of that once she grows some teeth.”

She leaned against the bedpost, lips flat. “Of course you will.”

His breath caught inside his chest. Did he say something wrong?

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Aelin bowed her head and grimaced. “I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just—“ she ran both hands through her hair. “I feel like I’m always messing up with Maisie.”

Rowan hummed, moving himself and the baby closer to Aelin. “I think Maisie disagrees, since you’re very clearly her favorite person.”

This line was supposed to make Aelin smile, but it completely backfired now that she was staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

“Wanting me is just her instinct. She’s biologically inclined to do that.”

He caressed her shoulder, trying to comfort her in any way he could. “Instinct or not, I still think you’re a great mom.”

“And you’re like a dream dad that came straight from a diaper ad.“ She gave him a weak smile. “It’s annoying sometimes. I love it.”

Aelin leaned her head against his shoulder and they stayed there, savoring the moment until Maisie decided it was enough.

It wouldn’t be long until the time to act on his fluttering stomach came. Rowan would pour his heart out, put a ring on her finger, and have as many children as she wanted.

He’d do it when the time was right.

˜˜

“Who’s ready for some beach-themed therapy?” Yrene greeted them into her office with a huge grin, holding a beach ball with emotions written on it.

Aelin threw her head back, laughing. “What’s that?”

That made Rowan’s chest fill with warmth, and it was a well-known fact that he could live his whole life gravitating around that laughter alone. He flexed his hands, then gave in to the ache in his fingers and fondly brushed them against the middle of her back. Aelin gave him a quick smile and turned back to their therapist.

Yrene gave them space to walk inside while explaining, “We use this activity mostly with teenagers, but I thought it’d be nice to get you in the mood for your trip.”

After they discussed last week’s homework, she explained that it consisted of passing the ball around, reading the first word that pops in and telling one time they felt that way. Easy.

“Furious.” Aelin gaped at the ball, and then at Yrene. “That’s a way to start.”

“Now you tell us a time when your family made you furious,” their therapist said.

Aelin squinted her eyes at him. “When you cut Maisie’s hair without telling me.”

Rowan grimaced. Fatherhood was hard, but nothing could prepare him for dealing with his daughter’s hair. There were so many different creams, he always got the hairstyles wrong, and she’d scream bloody murder while getting her hair rinsed.

So Rowan did the logical thing and cut his toddler’s hair around the chin.

Maisie liked it, but Aelin yelled so much at him she nearly ruptured his eardrums.

She had one arm holding the ball against her, the other on her hip. “You have nothing to say for yourself?”

“It grew back.”

Aelin threw the ball at him a little harsher than necessary. “Your turn.”

By the looks of it, there was a reason therapists chose a beach ball, and not something heavier and therefore deadlier to do this dynamic with.

“Thankful.” Rowan twirled the ball in his hands, smiling inwardly. “When Maisie trashed my house while I took a nap and you helped me clean it up.”

His memory broke her angry stance, making Aelin’s shoulders relax. “You could’ve pressed charges against Maisie for what she did to your house.”

“Technically, I could arrest her myself, but I don’t think the Brigadier would approve.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, like she always did when someone joked about her being the Air Force’s nepo baby, and he passed her the beach ball.

“Appreciated.” Aelin had a wistful smile on, and looked as if it was a crystal glass showing her past. “When I was pregnant, you’d leave the house in the middle of the night to buy something I was craving.”

Rowan’s heart constricted with the memory, but he knew he’d do it all over again. Getting to know her, living with her while they watched Maisie grow made those some of the best days of his life.

Flooded with memories, he almost missed the beach ball when Aelin passed it to him. It was like time stopped when Rowan grabbed it and read the first word his eyes settled in, his chest caving and the floor falling beneath his feet. Should he lie? There was only one time he felt—

“What’s the word, Rowan?” Yrene asked when silence stretched for too long.

He swallowed. “Betrayed.”

“What?” Aelin let out a low, shaky laugh. “I never betrayed—“

“When you asked me to leave.”

Aelin was rooted to her spot, gaping until she blurted, “How was that a betrayal?”

Yrene cleared her throat. “Let’s remember this should be a safe space to share our—“

“You want me to be petty now?” Rowan shook his head and started finger-counting everything he barely remembered now, but weighted on him six years ago. “You were my student. You had a boyfriend. I went against every rule I had for you.” Rowan’s mouth opened and closed, his breathing ragged as he voiced every feeling he ditched over the last six years, like weed growing from small cracks in an old road he buried with asphalt day after day. “I went to *jail* for you. I fixed your entire house for you—“

“I didn’t force you to do any of that—“

“But you forced me to leave!“ Rowan sat on the couch and scraped his palms against his face, trying to think of the right words. ”I know things were shitty, but you were clutching Maisie to your chest when you told me to pack my things and leave!” He held one finger up while holding his head down and took one deep breath. And another. And another. Until the boiling in his blood calmed down.

He continued after a moment, “I didn’t mean to snap. I know that wasn’t exactly a betrayal, but emotions don’t always align with facts, or whatever Yrene has been telling us.”

Aelin sat by his side, reading every line of his wretched expression with her own, and said, “I wish I’d done things differently, but I couldn’t make the right choices because my mind wasn’t in the right place.” She playfully elbowed his side with a small, tentative smile. “Or whatever Yrene has been telling us.”

Rowan slowly nodded, knowing he’d mull this words over and over after this session ended. “I wish I’d done things differently too. I can’t stop thinking about every time I messed up that year since…” Since Ansel suggested that he was the reason Aelin kicked him out, but he wouldn’t open this Pandora‘s box now. Rowan sighed, all the weight of these six years heavy on his shoulders. “I‘ve been trying to puzzle things together, and the only conclusion I get to is that I failed you and Maisie.”

Aelin squeezed his hand. “You never did.”

She meant well, but hearing that she regretted her decision and that it wasn’t his fault wasn’t reassuring at all. It only sent him back to square one, even more confused.

Aelin took a deep, pained breath and closed her eyes, then fiddled with his fingers. She must’ve read something on his face, because she added, “I wish I could give you a better answer and explain those last few days to you, but I don’t remember Maisie’s first months very well.”

Rowan caressed her wrist with his thumb, not knowing what to say. It was odd that she didn’t remember, but—

Yrene cleared her throat. “And remember that if you’re feeling overwhelmed by your own thoughts, I’ll be happy to help you with that.”

Beating himself up for every little thing he did six years ago was a natural response for losing the love of his life. Rowan had no idea why his therapist was so obsessed with him starting individual sessions.

He looked back at Aelin, noticing her unguarded expression and how the touch of her hand covering his wired and soothed him at the same time.

Right now, he just needed one thing.

˜˜

“Why is this taking so long?” Maisie whined from the backseat of the car they just rented.

Rowan had an ‘I told you so’ ready, but it wouldn’t help with anything now. With a plane trip to Southeastern Doranelle and a long drive to his parents’ house on the same day, he knew getting into the long drive-thru line would only make Maisie stressed. The problem is that his daughter was as stubborn as she was impatient.

“I don’t know, honey.” Aelin gasped from the passenger, eyes wide in a display of theatrics she only did to entertain Maisie. “Maybe they’re ordering the whole menu.”

“They’re taking forever.” The little girl crossed her arms, unamused. “Why did everyone’s daddy have to grab lunch today?” Maisie was doing distressed, dramatic gestures with her arms. “Where’s all the mommies?”

Rowan’s spine went rigid and he frowned at his daughter. “What do you mean?”

“Rowan…” Aelin grimaced and bit back her laughter at the same time. “You’re a slow driver. I thought you knew that already.”

His eyes widened. “I’m not!”

Aelin threw her head back, laughing. “You are! And Maisie has your road rage.”

He shook his head, but swallowed his retort when the car in front of them got their bag. He hit the brake pedal, hands clutching the steering wheel as he leaned forwards, breathlessly waiting… but the car wouldn’t move.

“Ugh!” Maisie looked up and sighed. “Daddy, do you want me to get out and push so they’ll move?”

Her “threat” worked like a charm, now that the car moved and they were one step closer to getting a meal. Rowan’s lips were pinched together, restrained, but when he saw Aelin’s shoulders shaking with her head between her hands, he silently rested his head on the steering wheel and did the same.

It should be illegal to feel this amused at his own daughter’s frustration, but Maisie was too cute with road rage.

After they got their food and went back to the road, Aelin put on the Little Mermaid soundtrack again. The girls were singing at the top of their lungs, and Rowan could finally agree that this was better than having the GPS on and not taking a wrong turn every fifteen minutes. He didn’t remember how many times he listened to Under the Sea today, but he remembered getting warm, funny feelings in his chest every time their voices got louder than the song.

Before the trip really began, Rowan already accepted that the vacation was theirs, and he was just the chauffeur.

He wasn’t supposed to love this idea this much.

However, his mind was half there, half on the last therapy session they had. It hadn’t left his mind ever since he stepped out of Yrene’s office.

Aelin told him very clearly she wished she’d done things differently.

Restless nights, charged pauses when they spoke, fingers hovering over his phone’s keyboard. Rowan felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, on the verge of jumping and asking a detailed explanation of what she meant, in whatever way that would answer all the questions in his head. Or at least the most important one.

“Use your words, boy and ask her!” They sang in the background of Rowan’s anxiety. “If the time is right and the time is tonight, go on and kiss the girl!”

Rowan paused the song with a heartbeat faster than it should, but not without groans of protest. “What’s that?”

“Kiss the Girl!” Maisie whined. “Daddy, I want the song back.”

“Okay, okay.” He put the song back, feeling a tad guilty for disrupting an already stressed Maisie. “Sorry, kiddo.”

Rowan only relaxed when the song ended, though, and half of the weight of his shoulders left his body later, when they finally got to their destination.

Maisie burst into his parents’ beach house as soon as her door unlocked like the little cannonball she was.

“Go on.” Rowan nudged Aelin forward. “I got the bags.”

Stubborn as the day she was born, Aelin took her bag from his hand. “I’m not gonna barge into your parent’s house like I’m their five-year-old granddaughter.”

This was ridiculous, considering how much Rory and Owen loved her, but he understood why she was a little guarded now. Rowan came here with Maisie once or twice a year, but it was Aelin’s first time visiting.

“Knowing my parents, they might even like it.” Rowan snorted, shaking his head. “They already act like you’re the daughter they never had, anyway.”

He took two steps towards the house, but Aelin didn’t follow. She was staring, frozen with an indecipherable look aimed at him, and the realization of what he’d just said rooted him to the ground, his body so heavy it expanded to his core.

This week at therapy. If she was looking at him like this, it meant that being part of the family to his mother meant something to her. Every single interaction now led him back to therapy.

She dumped him, but she wished she’d done things differently.

Of all the reactions Rowan thought she’d have if he ever voiced the thoughts that made him pace in the middle of the night, holding his hand and apologizing wasn’t one of them.

Maybe he held back for being still used to the explosive reactions he got from her before family therapy, or maybe he knew he’d never say it out loud only to have his fears confirmed.

That he focused on the baby and didn’t pay her enough attention. That he was working too long hours. That his fussiness made him micromanage her mothering—which Rowan was actively trying to stop. That she got trapped with him, then decided she could have more.

But whatever happened that year, she wishes she’d done things differently.

“Aelin!” His mother shouted from the front door, stepping out their way. “I couldn’t believe my ears when Rowan told me you’d come!”

She hugged Rory, finally out of that trance. “Your house is so beautiful.”

His father showed up with Maisie while pleasantries were being exchanged. “About time,” the old man mock-complained.

“Sorry we’re late.” Rowan gave his dad a man hug and got the usual two pats on the back. “Maisie and Aelin turned off the GPS. The voice directions were disturbing their Disney sing-along.”

“Oh, that’s understandable.” Owen picked his granddaughter up, grinning. “I didn’t know you like singing with your mom that much, Maisy Daisy.”

She nodded with all the earnestness a five-year-old could muster. “The songs are fun, and Mommy is really brave.”

“Maisie!” Aelin chastised, her lips somewhere between a gape and a smile. “Why am I ‘brave’ for singing?”

The little girl just giggled and hid her face on her grandpa’s shoulder.

Rowan slowly shook his head, never failing to be amused at his daughter. He was ready to defend Aelin‘s skills, but that was her own sass biting her in the ass. Maisie might’ve gotten the Whitethorn looks, but that fiery personality was all Aelin’s.

On the second floor, Rowan got his usual guest room, but his mother was still showing everything because of Aelin.

“This one I prepared for you.” She was pointing everything around, assuming everyone was catching up. “There’s Sellene’s room, the other is Enda’s. Their kids have a room for themselves, they just asked me to put on a show about a boy and dogs.”

Maisie’s eyes brightened. “Pawtrols.”

“That one!” Rory crouched down enough to be eye to eye with Maisie. “Well, the kids’ room I prepared has a TV and lots of toys.” She pointed at a door down the hall. “You could sleep there with your cousins and leave the other room just to your mom and dad.”

Rowan didn’t know why he was surprised.

Maisie crossed her arms. “No.”

Rory’s face fell. “What.”

The little girl put her foot down, dramatically shaking her head. “I wanna stay with Mommy and Daddy.”

His mother didn’t agree or protest, knowing she was already bordering the line between scheming and being pushy.

“We don’t have to decide now.” Rowan crouched to talk to Maisie, ready to get rid of that weird tension. “You can stay with us for as long as you want, and play during the day or have sleepovers with your cousins when you feel like it.”

Aelin wiggled her eyebrows. “You could have both rooms, Mais.”

The little girl’s eyes lit up with the idea. “Can I have both rooms, Grandma?”

“Of course you can, honey.” Rory grinned at her granddaughter, all the distress from her failed plan vanished already. “You three get settled, everyone’s downstairs.”

When they set the bags on the room, Maisie threw herself on the bed while Aelin excused herself to the bedroom.

Rowan laid on the bed next to his little girl, where the three of them would sleep squashed together. It’d be nice to have some alone time with Aelin, but he was also incapable of saying no to Maisie.

Besides, his mother didn’t need to trap him into anything with Aelin, he’d do it this time. Forget about reading her cues and waiting for the perfect time, he was tired of feeling like his soul was being ripped into threads every time he watched her eyes light up while her lips arch into a smile.

Rowan wished he’d done things differently too, but that had to stop somewhere.

And if he didn’t have a shot with Aelin, he’d at least fight for what he wanted this time.

She walked back into the room, smiled, and laid on the other side of the bed, hugging Maisie as well.

He’d make a move and do everything on his mind in the near future. Right now, he had a family hug to attend.

“Mom? Dad?”

Aelin hummed.

“You’re a slice of bread.”

Rowan frowned. ”I don’t get it.”

Their daughter beamed. “I’m the cheese!”

That earned her a chuckle. Indeed, Maisie was sandwiched between them in a hug.

Aelin smacked a kiss on her cheek. “You’re our Mayomaisie.”

You can get notifications when I update by either following me on @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

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I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #look at us now #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic

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shattersstar · 9 months

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hello!!! just wanted to send in a message that i have a meltdown every time I read one of your Jason pieces; so freaking good! its really special to find writers who can really get a feel for Jason without making him sound like a goofy caricature of a y/a trope or like. an incel LMAO. would love to see more of your thoughts or headcanons on Jason's opinion on college! I think he's expressed some sort of desire to attend university, but yk. the whole vigilante thing kinda screws with it. thanks again :)

college/university hcs + jason todd

a/n: aw tysm that’s so nice to hear <33 ive always wanted to know what ppl think of my take on jason bc yeah the fandoms consensus is not always. my fave. to say the least. dnejjfjdjd but im glad u enjoy it!! this was also a greatly timed ask bc im working on smth that has a section of robin jason talking abt his life n college so im gonna save some of my thoughts for when that comes out but…

—

i do think it’s definitely something jason’s always been interested even if his relationship with post secondary school has been fluid to say the least. sort of like: i might have a chance if i get a scholarship, to not even in school, to having a shot at going to any school, to missing out on that part of his life in favour of vigilantism and revenge

with his past briefly out of the way i definitely see jason being that person who just Attends lectures even if he isn’t enrolled. he’d go to classes with friends or someone he’s seeing if he had the time. but if anything, jason would take a course just because he finds it interesting. he’d sit in the back of the class and he 100% takes notes even if there’s no reason

if he is serious about going back to school i do stand with majority rule that he’d probably be an english/lit major.

i like to imagine jason did attempt to go to university after everything went down with bruce when he first came back though. a little scorned and confused about his place in everything. i could see him trying to play the part of someone normal and ordinary, what did people his age do again? oh yeah, go to school or leave the city.

i think he’d originally take something a bit more serious, respectable even. law, engineering, business, anything to emulate some version of himself bruce had expected jason to become. i think jason also knowing dick refused, finally agreed, then dropped out of uni would fuel him to go to spite his older brother and appease bruce even if it wasn’t conscious. like it’s an added bonus if jason really thought abt it (which he won’t ofc)

back to school: being forced to take those required liberal art courses would remind jason of what he loved in high school. he loved english class on whole and arguing with the history teacher and picked up languages surprisingly well that he did both spanish and french for a time. and while he really thought about switching majors he ultimately dropped out because he was still playing pretend and into the hands of a man his relationship was beyond complicated with.

i think jason would return when he was a few years older, a little less angry and less focused on his connection to bruce/batman. and this is when he’d major in english, im not enough of a lit baddie to pick a focus but im sure y’all can imagine <33

he’d start with night courses bc he’s already used to being awake so whats a 7-10pm lecture before patrol.

it only became an issue when courses jason’s wanted to take wouldn’t work with his nighttime plan. he started really feeling the burden of living a double life in those moments. and definitely gets antsy in class/studying when an important case is taking up his mind.

he was fortunate to take online classes that interested him greatly too but when school started becoming priority jason would have a moment with himself to decide if he wanted to spend a few years pursuing his degree with a bit more focus or go back to his life before.

and i cannot say what decision i think he’d make bc i know jason gains satisfaction from life by being red hood and cannot fully give it up but he’s also one of those people that is always dying to learn more, to know more and exercise his brain. it’s why his electives r insanely difficult mathematic courses or science labs bc everything interests him. the study of art just moves him a little more which is why he majors in it.

some other points:

- he’s not a fan of the education system and even if money is not a problem jason doesn’t rlly care abt going to elite schools and will gladly transfer around to take courses he wants or depending on where he’s currently is in the world. he’s done classes at most of gothams community colleges and at least one ivy league school

- jason’s doesn’t care how long it takes no finish school either, which works well with his vigilantism. he’s always had an unstable relationship with schooling and completing school in its expected time/format never appealed to him. jason will do it how it wants because he can :)

- he’s a handwritten notes kinda guy but understands that typing is more efficient

- will spend time at uni (and public) libraries just for funsies like he’ll b investigating new drug rings next to people studying for their midterms

- like most of us he really hates group assignments bc he’s too much of a control freak and will do all the work, hand it in and email the prof abt doing it alone without even contacting his group members bc he’s a little shit like that

- but will help in tutoring programs, be a note taker for certain courses and if jason’s fully dedicated to school he might just TA <3

#these r very loosely formatted #i wrote it in my phones notes like minutes after getting this ask lmaol #jason todd headcanon #writing #also i cannot remember dicks entire arc with going to hudson n stuff so pls ignore if i butchered that #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd hc #red hood headcanon #red hood hc #dc headcanon #dc hc #sweet messages

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pxayopina-unilsiyu · 9 months

Text

Credit art when you use it. It isn't hard.

Since some of you on Tumblr, especially in the Avatar fandom, are unfamiliar with art usage etiquette, allow me, an artist, to direct you on what is considered ethical and legal usage of artwork you didn't make.

Credit. Shit. When. You. Use. It.

You do not have an excuse for not doing this, it's incredibly simple. Find the original artist (which you don't need to do if you're taking straight from the source) and credit them either immediately below the artwork or at the end of your post. No hiding credit in the tags.

"Credit to artist" IS NOT CREDIT.

Nor is any variation of it such as "not created by me" or "credit to [random pinterest account]. Credit is specific and direct. You do not see "credit to visual effects artists" in the end credits of a film. You see names. Online, you should always credit someone's social media handle.

But I can't find credit!

Then do not use it. It's literally that simple. Don't know who made it? Either make an effort to find out or leave it alone.

If an artist says not to use something in a certain way, DO NOT USE IT THAT WAY.

Always check people's bios, watermarks, etc. to see if they list their terms of use for the art. If you're unsure, message them directly. "Do not repost" means DO NOT REPOST. "Do not use" means DO NOT USE, FOR ANYTHING.

People pay money for art, you know.

The art you carelessly download and use for your fics or roleplays could very well have costed upwards of hundreds of dollars. Ask yourself how fair it is for you to take it and use it willy nilly without paying, whereas the commissioner paid their hard-earned money to have it created. It isn't fair at all.

Other people's original characters are not yours.

Not everyone is okay with their original characters' likenesses being adopted for your own. Original characters can be extremely special and personal, it can be insulting and heartbreaking for their likenesses to be stolen and assigned to completely different characters. Ask yourself how that shit would make you feel. I can tell you first-hand it doesn't feel great.

But Pinterest--

Pinterest and other repost sites are plagues to artists, just don't use them for sourcing art.

Who cares? If they posted it online then it's free to use!

The law cares, and no, that isn't true. Art created by human hands has automatic copyright given to it. It is against copyright law to use artwork made by others in a way they have not permitted. Yes, fair use exists, but fair use is not a get-out-of-jail free card to use whatever material you find online. To be protected by fair use, your use of copyrighted material has to be transformative for the purposes of commentary, demonstration, or parody. Grabbing art off the internet to use for fics or roleplay is none of those things. It does not apply.

Are artists gonna sue you for using our art? Probably not, because we're all broke ass bitches who can't afford lawyers, but this is like, common decency, yo. Also, we can file DMCA takedowns against your posts / accounts for using our art without authorization, and guess what happens if you rack up enough of those?

Just ask!

If you really want to use a piece of art, consider just... reaching out and asking the artist who made it if it's okay to use noncommercially and with credit. A lot of the time, the act of reaching out and getting permission puts you in our good favor. A lot of the time, the answer will be yes. Just ask. We won't bite your head off. Just be willing to take "no" for an answer.

Thanks and have a sexy day

#avatar #avatar: the way of water #meta #my art

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emberfrostlovesloki · 8 months

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This Space of Ours [Hotch x Reader]

Image from @hotch-girl (beautiful work as always)

Prompt: Aaron is subjected to the whims of a sadist in search of revenge because his younger brother was put away by Agent Hotchner and the BAU team.

Category: Angst/whump/minor comfort at the end.

Word Count: 6.4K

Content Warnings: Graphic depiction of sexual assault (Hotch and a male unsub), Torture - choking, drowning, physical restraints, mention of an incel and assault (in a past case), active shooter situation (the team's current case), threat of death (via gun). suicidal ideation, hospitals, vomiting, trauma, some reckless driving, U.S. police, bodily fluids/substances, language. (If I missed any, please let me know).

A/N: Okay, so it’s October, which means whump-tober for me. First of all, this story is 18+ minors DNI. I’m being serious here. If you a minor please don’t engage. This one has a lot of content warnings. This story deals with some dark themes and scenarios and I implore you to read the content warnings before you interact with this fic. If at any time you feel uncomfortable reading, please click off. Nothing is worth your mental health and well-being! I rarely write anything this graphic, but the idea has been stuck in my head for a while. The home invasion aspect came from @luveline and her amazing story “If Things Go Bad.” (linked). I highly recommend her work. Please go and check out her blog. I honestly eat up everything she writes and she deserves all the love. Due to the dark and graphic content of this story, I ask that all comments stay respectful. If I see anything lewd or inappropriate I will delete it. Don’t go there. You can read this as a standalone, in which case this would be an established relationship between the reader and Hotch, or you could take this as a continuation of my last fic (found here), or you could read this as platonic if you squint.

As I did with my last fic, if you find yourself affected by this plot, please reach out to a loved one or someone you trust. You deserve love and support. If all else fails, I’ve attached some crisis hotlines below. There is no shame in getting help and support.

National Sexual Assualt Hotline

Self-Harm Crisis Text Line

The next story I’m writing is much lighter than this one, and there is a lot of protective Hotch involved! If you like this story, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. I might try to write a part two to this covering Hotch’s and the team's healing process. If that’s something you are interested in, let me know. Stay well out there everyone. If you need someone to talk to, my messages are always open. - Levi.

List with all stories

y/n = your name

_l/n_ = your last name

Hotch was headed home. He was finally headed home. The last case could have gone far worse than it had. It had been a male shooter, killing in the Houston metro area. The sprawling city and multiple police precincts hadn’t connected the killings as being perpetrated by the same person. It was clear to the team, and Spencer first, that the unsub was building up to something bigger than just shooting three, five, or ten people. It had all come to a head when Emily and y/n had found the manifesto online stating that the unsub, Jason Creeke, was going to try and kill as many people as he could at a Houston Astros game. The teams and police had rushed to the game. The stadium was packed and finding Jason in such a dense sea of bodies was difficult, even with all the police and SWAT teams present. When a gunshot rang out among the stands, chaos erupted. Aaron was the closest to the unsub, and he clearly saw the middle-aged man with a shotgun drawn and ready to fire again. Hotch’s sidearm was out in a second. He clicked the safety off and lined up the shot. Aaron made the kill shot; he could sense everyone on his team as well as the other officers relax as the active threat was taken down.

It had been pandemonium for a few minutes, but as the local law enforcement stepped in, the scene relaxed a little. Back at the local precinct, y/n had approached him as always; checking in. y/n stated, “That was a really clean shot Hotch, as always.” Aaron appreciated the comment, he just wished he didn’t have to make the shot at all. y/n could see his warring thoughts and said, “We can talk about it later if you want?” Hotch looked down at her, feeling that familiar comforting tug in his chest that only _y/n_ could pull from him. He nodded and said, “Later.” There was always a 'later' with them. Returning from a case was an exhausting ordeal. It was nice to have it over, but when the wheels touched back down in Virginia it didn’t mean that the world just stopped turning on its axis. There was paperwork and reports to be filed, the fact that another stack of possible cases would be waiting on JJ’s desk to be vetted for the team. The cycle seemed to be endless. Even if the case hadn’t been a bad one, it still wasn’t fun. Aaron and y/n rarely spent time together after returning from a case because they were tired and needed to sleep and let out any lingering emotions tied to what they had just seen. Experiencing so much trauma didn’t always make someone the most supportive person and Hotch and y/n knew that. Staying apart kept them safe from any unintended hurtful words or phrases the other might say. If things were really bad, then of course there were exceptions. Hotch would text y/n and ask her to come over or vice versa and within half an hour they would be at the other's apartment providing a comforting embrace or words, depending on what was needed. Just because they didn’t see each other in person didn’t mean they didn’t talk. y/n would always call Aaron at 8:00 PM sharp. She knew that would give him an hour or so before he would take a shower and go to bed. They would talk for however long was comfortable. Sometimes that was just saying “Goodnight,” or having more of a discussion about their work or personal lives. Often Aaron found himself talking about Jack. His son was his light and he was drawn to it in all things. y/n was happy to listen to him ramble. She loved Jack too, and she was fully aware that Jack was always going to be the number one person in Aaron’s life.

Aaron parked his car and got his briefcase and duffle bag that had all his clothes from his go-bag that needed to be laundered. He closed his car doors, locking them with his key fob. The car gave a familiar little beep as he clicked the lock button twice. He moved a few feet to his front door, ready to be out of the six o’clock sun. He was ready for a shower. He rolled his stiff neck as he unlocked his door. His apartment was dark, even though it was still bright outside. He turned to the locks on the front door. He had no idea that something, someone malignant had made its way inside before him. The unseen man stalked behind Aaron and pistol-whipped the FBI Unit Chief on the side of the head. By the time Aaron was aware that something was wrong in his periphery, it was too late. He felt a blinding pain at the back of his head and he slumped forward, uncoordinatedly against the door. He used his hands to soften the blow, but he still hit the wood with a thump. He tried to keep his feet under him, but his vision was blurring and the pain was only growing worse. For some reason, he could hear his own breathing loudly in his ears. He fell to the floor and tried to command his body to move, but it wouldn’t, couldn’t respond. He managed to turn around on the floor and just as he lost consciousness he saw a large man crouch down next to him.

Hotch woke an undetermined time later. The light was blinding against his headache, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. He was restrained, hogtied so tightly that his back ached with the strain of having his hands and feet forced that close behind his back. His face was pressed against something cool and smooth. He could feel that blood was seeping down the side of his face, onto his cheek, and down over his chin. He was about to do an inventory of the rest of his body, but a sound from behind him snapped him to his full senses. He opened his eyes and realized that he was in his bathtub. Aaron turned his head to the best of his ability and saw a mountain of a man standing just outside the tub.” Aaron cleared his throat quietly, trying not to sound as scared as he felt. He took a breath and clearly asked, “Who are you? What do you want?” The man gave a gruff laugh and stepped even closer to the tub. Aaron flinched back but instantly tried to relax and not appear weak in front of the man who had him at his mercy. The man stepped into the tub and stood with both of his legs near Hotch’s prone body. The man crouched down, getting in Aaron’s face. Hotch could distinctly smell the scent of tobacco on his breath, and the man said, “You don’t need to know that yet Agent Hotchner. Just know that you’ve wronged me, and I’m here to get what I’m owed.” Aaron tried to think back to all the cases he’d worked on. He would have remembered this man. There was no way he couldn’t remember a man of this size. Aaron knew he needed to do something. He couldn’t fight his way out, given that he was restrained. Even if he wasn’t, Aaron wasn’t sure he could take this man in a fight. But if he wasn’t bound, he would sure as hell try. As the tap started running near his head, Aaron felt some water droplets splash on his face and the left side of his shirt got soaked. Hotch had to talk over the water, saying, “You don’t have to do this. We can talk.” The man placed his large hand around Aaon’s neck, restricting the airflow, so he struggled to breathe. Again the man deferred giving any information saying, “We can talk later if you’re up to it.”

Aaron didn’t like the sound of where this evening was going. After the man released his neck, Hotch sucked in a much-needed breath. As he did this, the man pulled Aaron’s hips up so he was resting on his knees and arms. His body screamed in protest against having most of his weight on his arms, knees, and shins. He was also unstable in his position. He had to engage his core to stay at least relatively steady. Before Aaron could get his bearing the man roughly pushed Hotch’s hip forward, and his upturned face was pushed under the steady stream of cold water coming from the tap. Aaron coughed and struggled under the flow as his air supply was cut off again. Hotch trashed to try and turn his face away. The man watched with some amusement, as the FBI agent floundered. As Aaron tried to turn his head away, the man took a fistful his his hair and held his face steady under the water. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop the water from getting into his airways. Hotch had his mouth tightly closed, but his nostrils were letting the water in. To call the sensation uncomfortable was an understatement His eyes and lungs burned at the water and lack of air. He was sure he would pass out in a second if something didn’t change. He wondered for a moment if this man was going to keep holding his head there until he expired. As his vision started to blur, he thought of Jack and then y/n. Their happy smiling faces popped into his mind and if he was going to die, he was grateful that both of them would be the last thing he thought of; at least consciously.

When he was sure he couldn’t take anymore, the man pushed Aaron onto his side and out of the stream of the spigot. Aaron coughed so hard he felt his lungs strain with the effort. The water that had gotten into his body was expelled from his mouth and nose in waves. When the water was excised, he took needy breaths clenching his eyes closed against the pain. For a moment the physical pain of his body was replaced with the fact that he had almost lost consciousness. Just as he was able to breathe normally again, the man pushed Hotch back onto his back and under the water. This ritual happened three more times and by the time the tap was turned off, Hotch was so exhausted that all that he could do was take shaky breaths as he lay on his side on the wet tub’s bottom. Aaron left a brief moment of relief as the rope holding his arms and legs was severed and his back got a break from its arched position. He actually breathed a sigh of relief as his body straightened out. His arms were still strained but at least he could breathe properly now. Hotch hardly noticed as the man cut the zip ties holding his feet together. He was shocked back to his body as the man pulled him up with large hands under his armpits. Hotch was half dragged, half stumbled into his bedroom. The lamps were on and he didn't know how he hadn’t noticed the light that would have emanated from the crack in the door of his living room. Hotch stilled those thoughts as he was pushed onto his bed, his head still swimming from what he had been through and how he had been moved like a doll. As his face was pressed into the mattress he could distinctly smell the acrid scent of urine on the soft surface. He cringed against his comforter. He was not only scared, but now he felt humiliation and shame course through him. There were these emotions but also anger. A hot rage just under the surface that this would be happening to him. ‘Focus,’ Aaron thought, maybe he could stop whatever this madman was planning next. In this position, he felt exposed and vulnerable, and he felt that it didn’t bode well for what was coming next.

Hotch found his voice and said, “Clearly you think I’ve wronged you somehow. Would you tell me what I’ve done to upset you? Why do I need to be punished?” The man behind him whom he couldn’t quite see gave a gruff laugh, and the sound of a buckle being undone had Hotch freeze instantly. Certainly, this wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t happen. The man lay down on top of Hotch. Aaron could feel the man was semi-hard and he had to still to stop from squirming. The weight of the man above him was enough to cause him to struggle to breathe. He wondered if strangulation was a signature of his. Aaron's arms also screamed in protest. Aaron thought his shoulders might pop out of their sockets. The man’s hot breath on the nape of his neck sent a shiver of revulsion down Aaron’s spine. The man finally spoke and said, “You want to know who I am? I’m Brent Parolt’s older brother, Steve. You sent my little brother away for life for something he couldn’t help. Something he was owed.” Aaron took a moment to connect the dots as his brain was functioning in overdrive.

Parolt was a bad case, one of the worst. The twenty-nine-year-old was an incel and was assaulting and torturing women in the Washington State area. There was a general panic in the surrounding community which had made finding the man responsible even more difficult. When the man had received five concurrent life sentences in a high-security prison, Hotch knew that this would never be enough to make up for what those women had been through.

Steve was now kissing Aaron’s neck, and Hotch could help his body from thrashing. Again, Aaron commanded his body to be still. To not show how much this was affecting him. Hotch found his voice again and said, “You believe your brother had the right to brutally assault women?” Hotch was hoping to distract Steve. The man ran a hand down Aaron’s chest and lower to his navel, and Hotch flexed his muscles, tense under the unwanted touch. Steve felt it as well and replied, “Sure my brother might have been fucked in the head, but it wasn’t his fault he was bad with girls, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be able to fuck ‘em. I remember watching the news and you said that those women, the victims, didn’t want his advances. Well, I intend to show you what it really means to not want something. I’m going to make my brother look like a saint to you.”

Hotch felt Steve working at the buckle of his own pants and he wondered if he could turn over somehow and hit this man in the groin full force. It might be enough to incapacitate him. Aaron found his pants and briefs pulled off and the cool air on his exposed body sent another shiver through him. Aaron was going to speak again to try and get out of this. Maybe he could make the man enraged, enraged enough to make him torture him another way. Any other way. However, the start of his sentence was cut off, as he felt a finger trace up his thigh and ass. There wasn’t time to do anything before that finger was inside of him. In an area that got little attention outside the shower and bathroom. Aaron grunted at the discomfort he felt at being opened up in this way. He closed his eyes both against the pain and humiliation rising in him. After a moment, another finger was added next to the first. Steve started moving them inside the man under him; he got more excited as he worked at the opening. The deranged man was feeling himself with his other hand, getting ready for the big finale. After a few moments, Steve removed his fingers from Hotch and wiped them on the sheet near Aaron’s face. Hotch turned his face the other way, refusing to look at what was staining his bedding apart from the urine. The sound of Steve removing his clothes had Aaron still again. As he was violated, he let himself let go. His mind found something, anything to think about other than what was happening to him in the current moment.

Once Steve had fully seated himself in the trembling man beneath him, he started moving inside Hotch. He was doing this as revenge: as justice for his brother, his best friend, and his support system. As Steve started picking up the pace, the pleasure centers in his brain fired full force and he stopped himself from moving faster, this was a lesson to Aaron, and he wanted it to last. The horrifying scene was cut with a knife as the sound of a phone ringing resounded throughout the room. Steve moved back from Aaron, and Hotch let out a shaky breath. He didn't know if he had been breathing for the last few minutes. There was the relief that Steve was out of him, but then the horrifying realization that _y/n_ was calling him, and this man was here, that she might hear what was happening. Hotch sent a silent prayer to any god that the man would just hang up the phone. If he did that then y/n would still know something was wrong. He didn’t miss her calls unless something was really wrong. She would call Emily or Derek first to see if they could reach him. If they hadn’t, she would call him again and then if there wasn’t an answer, she would ride over to wherever his location was. Hotch had thought this was a bit extreme at first, but he realized that in their line of work, not picking up could mean things were seriously wrong -- as they were now.

Hotch’s prayer wasn’t answered, as Steve fished the phone from his discarded pants pocket along with Aaron’s gun. Steve undid the safety of the handgun and moved back to the bed, pressing the cold metal of the weapon to Aaron’s temple; he also looked at the caller ID. He recognized the smiling female agent on the screen as having also worked the case that had gotten his brother sent away. With this, the man answered the call, setting the phone near Aaron’s face. Hotch listened as y/n said warmly, “Hey, Aaron. Just calling to talk about ‘later.’ How are you feeling?” Aaron kept his mouth shut, but the feeling of Steve thrusting into him hard, made him groan loudly in pain. He bit the inside of his mouth so hard that he could taste blood on his tongue. There was a pause on the line and Hotch could picture y/n standing in her kitchen, confused by what the hell that noise was. There was a long pause and Aaron did his best to not make any other sounds. Finally, there was a response as y/n said, “Aaron, Aaron, what’s going on?” There was a hint of panic in her voice, the pitch of it was high and stressed. Steve answered for Aaron saying, “Agent Hotchner isn’t available right now.” This time the pause was shorter, and y/n said, “Who are you, what are you doing to him?” Steve moved roughly again and Aaron made the same noise as before. Steve replied, “I think you can guess Agent _l/n_. Now be good for me and don’t say another word, because if you do, I’ll shoot Agent Hotchner in the head with his gun that I have pointed at his temple.” There was silence, as y/n wasn’t going to take a threat like that lightly. She never would. It was just the sound of heavy breathing on the other end of the line and Steve’s frantic carnal movements making noise now. Aaron was back in that place in his mind from before, where he could hide from all that was happening. Steve pulled him back from that place by asking, “Your agent is using your first name. It’s very informal of her. Are you fucking her, Aaron? That’s not very professional of you.” Aaron stayed silent, refusing to answer the question. However, when the man pushed the gun a little harder to the side of his face, Aaron managed to bark out, “Yes.” The man let out a laugh and replied, “Let’s see you try and be intimate with her after this.” At that moment Aaron wished the man would just shoot him to have this pain and humiliation be over with.

y/n was standing in her living room in a state of shock. She had dropped the glass or water she had been holding and the glass shards were spread far across her cement floor. When the unknown man who was holding Aaron hostage spoke again, she finally snapped out of her frozen state. She couldn’t speak or Aaron would die, so she put her side of the line on mute, just to make sure no noise she made could be heard. y/n began by recording the call, and then she rushed to her gun safe and closet to get her holster. While doing this, she put Aaron’s call on hold and called Morgan. He lived closest to Aaron. She waited and prayed that her teammate was at home and would pick up. After the second ring, there was an answer and Derek said, “Hey baby girl, what’s up?” Hearing Derek’s chipper voice made her cringe, but she swallowed the feeling and said, “It’s Aaron. He’s being assaulted at his apartment.” There was a short silence before Derek responded, almost not believing what he had heard with, “What?” y/n cleared her throat and said, “There’s someone in Aaron’s apartment. He’s getting assaulted right now. I have him on another line. I can hear what’s happening.” At the last sentence, y/n’s voice broke and she tried to hold in the sob that escaped her throat. Derek was moving now in his townhouse getting his keys and gun. He spoke clearly saying, “I’m on my way y/n. I’ll call Emily and Rossi, you call local LEOs. Keep Aaron on the line and mute me. We’ll go get him get him out of there.” _y/n_ nodded and said shakely, “Okay.” She could hear Morgan’s car door close and the engine start before she muted him. She dialed the police and informed them of the situation happening at Aaron’s address. When this was finished she pulled her helmet from the wall and grabbed her keys racing down the stairs. y/n connected the Bluetooth to her helmet, as she flew down the flight of stairs. The sound of her motorcycle engine running under her muffled the sounds that Hotch and the unsub were making. She could hear the pained noise that Aaron was trying to hold in. She knew those sounds would haunt her dreams. She cursed that she lived so far away from Hotch, but was glad that Morgan and Emily were close by. She knew Derek would get there before her and in some tiny, tiny way she was grateful. y/n wasn’t sure what she would do if she was the one to make it to Aaron’s place before anyone else. _y/n_ drove fast, faster than she probably should, but her friend was suffering and the sooner she got there, the more she could try and help him; whatever helping Aaron looked like in a situation like this.

After a few more minutes she heard Derek break into Aaron’s room and his barking command to the unsub to get off of Hotch, immediately. There were sounds of a scuffle and a shot rang out. It was so loud that it momentarily deafened y/n, and she wondered if her love or her friend had just been wounded or killed. It took a minute before she could hear again and when she did, she realized that whoever had been attacking Aaron was the person shot. The man was making painful sobbing noises and she heard Derek pull out his metal cuffs, demanding the man move to the other side of the room. Hearing the man in pain brought a sick kind of pleasure to y/n and for a moment she thought she might be sick, but there wasn’t time for that. There wasn’t time. In the daze of her getting closer and closer to Aaron’s apartment, she could hear the sirens on the other end of the line and then there was Emily’s voice speaking to Derek, finding out what was going on. She could still hear Aaron breathing, in raspy inhalations and exhalations. She could hear Derek close by saying, “Hotch, paramedics are on the way. Try and stay still. Help’s on the way.” There was an incoherent response from Aaron.

Finally, y/n screeched to a stop in front of Aaron’s unit. There were three police cruisers and as y/n dismounted, Rossi’s car arrived at nearly the same time. y/n took off her helmet and Rossi ran over to her to check in. They both flashed their badges to the officer near the door and y/n and Rossi moved aside as the unsub was moved outside to get medical assistance and be moved to the hospital under police custody. If she hadn’t been so anxious to get to Aaron’s side she would have stopped and looked at the monster that had hurt Aaron, but she didn’t. Even seeing the massive man filling the dim entryway would be another thing from tonight that would be seared into her brain forever. Rossi stayed downstairs to speak with the officers. y/n took the stairs two at a time and moved down the hall past Hotch’s guest room and bathroom. y/n landed in Aaron’s room and Derek and Emily were near Aaron’s bed, but giving him space. Derek moved aside to let y/n pass him. As y/n moved closer to Aaron, Morgan put a comforting hand on her shoulder to let her know she wasn’t alone in this. That none of them were alone in this, especially Aaron. Before y/n got too close to him she said his name. She had her palms up to demonstrate that she wasn’t a threat to him. “Aaron, I’m here.” Aaron made a small noise and y/n slowly moved forward. She knelt by the bed but didn’t get any closer. The very sight of him right now could make her cry and sob and curse every god she could think of, but Hotch didn’t need that right now. Aaron was blinking slowly, and he looked dazed, and not fully present. y/n knew she had to hold it together for him. She could let it go later. She looked over his form. He was on his stomach with a blanket covering his lower half. His hair was wet, and she could see bruising on his neck. There were also abrasions on his wrists. y/n turned to Emily and asked, “What’s the ETA on the paramedics?” The question didn’t need to be answered as more sirens cut through the night.

The next three hours were a blur for everyone. Rossi ended up riding with Aaron to the hospital and everyone gave their statements to the police. By this point, the whole team was at Aaron’s apartment. After the statements were taken, the team headed to the hospital. y/n rode with Emily, and once she was in the car she broke down for the first time that night. The sobs came unbidden and they moved through her body so strongly that she couldn’t breathe properly. Emily very briefly took her eyes off the road and looked at y/n. Emily tried to say some words of comfort to an impossible wound. All she could think of saying was, “We’re going to be there for him, y/n. I promise you.” When y/n was able to breathe again, she weakly replied, “Just hearing, hearing him…” y/n was cut off by another sob and Emily realized that y/n was traumatized too. Prentiss knew that this event was going to shake the team, shake the very foundation of their bond and she wondered if they could ever be as they once had.

At the hospital Garcia held onto y/n for dear life, repeating softly that it would be alright, over and over and over like a lullaby. When y/n took a moment to get a drink of water, Rossi followed her and said, “Derek told me that you were on the phone with him when this happened? You call him every night, don’t you?” y/n nodded, not trying to hide her closeness with Hotch right now. She was too tired and braindead to lie. Her phone calls with Hotch felt so trivial right now. Dave nodded and said, “You realize you probably saved his life by calling him, right?” y/n eyes found Rossi’s and she softy said, “Dave I.” Rossi cut her off saying, “Tonight has been awful. What happened to Aaron was the worst possible thing I can think of happening to anyone on the team, but I need you to know _y/n_ that you probably saved his life. If you hadn’t called him we might not be standing here right now.” Rossi left it at that and allowed y/n to move back to the rest of the team.

A few hours later the primary trauma specialist, Dr. Ramirez came to inform the team about Hotch's condition. y/n tried to pay attention, but it was all so overwhelming. She listened about the internal damage and the need for rest and therapy, both physical and mental. The conversation continued and she did her best, but her best didn’t feel good enough right now. Derek could see her fatigue and he wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulder, letting her lean on him.

After a day and much protestation from Aaron, he was released. Rossi, Morgan, and y/n were there for his discharge, and the doctor asked where Aaron would be staying for the next few days because they would need a primary contact in case something went wrong. Aaron knew that he could stay with anyone on the team. They would all have him and try to treat him with care. To not make this awkward for him. He really considered Rossi’s, but deep down he knew who he was going to choose. He looked over at y/n and she gave him a small affirmative nod. He noticed how tired y/n looked. How the bags under her eyes stood out. He turned his attention back to the nurse and said, “I’ll stay with y/n, _l/n_. The nurse took down her information and after another two hours, Aaron and _y/n_ were being driven back to her apartment by Rossi. The drive was silent and there was a lingering discomfort at the silence in the car's cabin. The older man helped Aaron into y/n’s unit and guided him to sit on the couch. Aaron flinched at the contact and Rossi quietly said, “Sorry.” Hotch waved away the comment. His pain medication regimen was helping, but the soreness in his body lingered. Rossi made it clear that either y/n or Aaron could call him at any time. No holds barred and he’d be there as fast as he could. Derek had moved y/n’s bike back to its spot and was going to bring Hotch some new clothes that afternoon. As Rossi exited the main room, he spoke to y/n in the hallway saying, “Please be kind to yourself _y/n_, and really, if you need anything, please tell me.” y/n nodded and agreed to take his help if she or Aaron needed it.

Once Rossi was gone, y/n got Aaron a glass of water and the first dose of his pain and antibiotic medication. She portioned out the dosages and walked over to him. She gently said, “Here you go.” Aaron grabbed the glass and pills and took them with a swallow of water. y/n turned to her kitchen counter where she had a chart to track the dosage and medication she should be giving him. She crossed off the first two spots. When this was done, she walked back to Aaron and sat across from him in a chair from her kitchen table. The silence in the room was suffocating and y/n softly said, “Aaron.” Hotch looked over to _y/n_ saying, “I can’t y/n. I just can’t right now.” y/n swallowed and nodded. She knew Aaron was a private man. A man who liked to be in control of his emotions and surroundings and that had all been stripped of him two days ago. She could only imagine what he was thinking and feeling at the moment. y/n asked another question, giving him choices saying, “Would you like to rest here or in the bedroom? Would you like something to eat?” Aaron thought about these options. His pain medication made him drowsy and it helped his sore body to be stretched out. It distributed the pain more evenly. Aaron replied, “I’d like to take a nap in your room.” y/n nodded again and she helped him up. Hotch tried to walk normally. He wanted to act normal, but his body betrayed him. He shuffled to y/n’s bedroom and he gently lowered himself onto the mattress. y/n pulled the covers back for him and then moved around the space, lowering the blinds to darken the space. When she was sure Hotch was as comfortable as possible using extra pillows to support his body, she asked, “Would you like me to stay in here with you, or would you like to be alone for a while.” Aaron sounded desperate for the first time as he said, “Stay with me, please.” y/n moved to the chair in her room and settled down to be with Aaron as he rested.

As Aaron closed his eyes and tried to find sleep, but all he could think about was how he wished none of this had happened. How he was going to have to take time off. How he would have to take a psychological evaluation to return to the field. How he’d have to talk to Strauss and Strauss’s boss about this. How he’d have to go back the the hospital for checkups and therapy. He was thinking of everything but what had happened. He looked over to y/n and she looked too sad and concerned. He thought that she might start crying. She looked like she was trying so hard not to think of him differently, like a victim. He felt a hot shame course through him as he remembered that she had to hear his ordeal. Aaron thought that he might start crying if he wasn’t very careful. But he was tired and as much as he tried to fight it, sleep finally took him. It took _y/n_ as well after a half hour. She slumped against the wall and had unsettled dreams.

Aaron woke with a start. It was still light out and he felt nauseous. He tried to make it to the bathroom, but he didn’t even make it out of the bed before he vomited on the covers. His noises made y/n jerk awake and she moved over to him. He was on a liquid diet, so the act of throwing up was not the worst, but it still wasn’t pleasant. y/n knelt near the bed. She rubbed a hand on his lower back to comfort him. It was the first real intentional touch she had given him since the attack. When the content of his stomach was emptied he muttered, “I’m sorry, y/n.” y/n shook her head no and said, “You don’t have to be sorry, Aaron. It’s alright. If you can go to the bathroom to wash out your mouth, I’ll change the sheets.” Hotched avoided the puddle of vomit and moved into the adjoined bathroom. He didn’t look in the mirror as he swilled water in his mouth and down the drain. He moved to the chair y/n had just been in. It was still warm from her body heat. He watched as y/n removed the soiled bedding and replaced it with fresh sheets from the hallway closet. When the sheets were changed and she had grabbed a fresh blanket, Hotch moved back to the bed. As he sat down, the flood of emotions he had been holding back couldn’t be stopped anymore. It started with heightened breathing, but the tears came next in wave after wave and he was powerless to stop them. y/n stood close by, wringing her hands, not knowing what to do. y/n said his name, and Aaron looked up at her and he pleaded, “Can you hold me, y/n. Please.” y/n wanted to rush to him, to hold him tightly to her, to give him all the support she could, but she didn’t know if it would trigger him. Throw him back to that dark place. Aaron repeated his plea and y/n couldn’t hold back any longer. y/n slowly moved toward him. She softly, carefully wrapped her arms around his chest.” Aaron leaned forward into her and wept. When y/n was sure he was alright with this, she tightened her grip on him slightly.

Neither of them tried to speak, because what could be said? What could be said to make up for the pain, hurt, and loss? And so they stayed there like that. y/n had never seen Aaron cry. At least not like this and it spoke to the deep, deep hurt he was experiencing. y/n wondered if healing from such pain as Aaron’s existed. She knew that they had to just keep moving one foot in front of the other, but how could they do that if the ground had suddenly fallen out from under them? Not just them, but the whole team? It was painful and hard and y/n never thought that they would be here like this. But in the midst of all of this pain and hurt, she was just glad that Aaron was alive. That he was here in this space. That he had trusted her to come and rest and be. So they stayed there, and it wasn’t perfect, it might never be again, but at least they were there, together.

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phoenixyfriend · 2 years

Text

[rotates a fic concept based on a Frozen fic I read years ago]

(I'll link the fic and explain the premise a the bottom of the post. If you've read Ghost on the Wire, that's my inspo. If you haven't, check the bottom for the summary.) Easy option for the AU in question is Domino twins because [gestures at Echo], buuuuuuuuuuuut I think it would be interesting with Anakin as the kidnapped experiment sibling and Obi-Wan finding him years later.

Consider:

Ahsoka, age 12, is the padawan to Obi-Wan Kenobi, who lost his first padawan seven years ago and has been in mourning and self-doubt since; everyone thinks it's a miracle that he took her on, and she tries not to rock the boat because what if he decides he's not ready for another kid after all?

She's got a weird friend online that… well, if she complains about a senator or a mission, this person hunts down files pointing to questionable behavior by said senators and then dumps them in the Jedi's evidence box.

Since they're anonymously provided, the Jedi can legally use them to gain warrants, etc, because even if the law was broken to achieve it, they didn't do anything illegal, pay anyone to do anything illegal, or encourage anyone to do the illegal thing.

Obi-Wan takes a bit longer than he should to catch on to Ahsoka having a definitely criminal online friend, but decides to allow it so long as she lets him monitor interactions with this one specific person. He realizes that Ahsoka's random mentions of details coincide with certain infodumps, which Ahsoka wouldn't know because she's not privy to the fact that said data dumps happened at all.

War breaks out. Obi-Wan is frequently in a panic, because he already had one underage padawan die under his watch, and he's terrified of it happening again.

Various shenanigans, Ahsoka keeps up correspondence with her friend but it's much more heavily monitored now, in case of security violations. The friend still gives her heads up about suspected Separatist activity based on algorithmic analysis of shipping patterns and the like.

The friend tells Ahsoka he's in trouble. He needs help. Given the amount of information he's been giving the Jedi, they can consider him a confidential criminal informant that needs extraction and could continue being useful (important so they can justify using military resources when the Senate asks about budget expenditures).

They find Anakin, in a very similar setup to S7 Echo

Obi-Wan is. Not okay.

Ahsoka is freaked out by Anakin's physical state but fuck it! Friend! He needs medical help and he's really not exactly cognizant of the world around him.

Get him back to the ship. Get back to the Temple. Get him some medical help.

Figure out what the fuck is going on.

Turns out Anakin was captured on Sidious's orders when he was like... IDK ten. And then underwent experiments under the supervision of the Sith Lord. He still doesn't know who the Sith is, because Sidious saw his chatting with Ahsoka and only allowed it for as long as it wasn't anything too damaging, which means it was all either something that benefited Sidious, or something Anakin only barely managed to hide inside larger data packets (including his final request for help; he's gotten much better at cyber security on his own brain over the years).

But Sidious never did let Anakin know what his real identity is.

IDK where this goes but I do know Anakin is incredibly insistent on helping Ahsoka and the Jedi, and also that Obi-Wan cries on Anakin a lot.

He definitely would NOT be allowed out in the field, into battle, because the amount of physical therapy he needs. Immense. But he's probably with the 501st and 212th as their main data analyst/strategic dude? In this situation, the 501st doesn't technically have a Jedi, they're just a legion under the larger command of Obi-Wan and Cody, with their direct CO being Yularen, but Ahsoka's paired up with them regularly and she is honorary Jedi for the legion and everyone expects to get her officially once she's knighted, if the war lasts that long.

I do know that he chose Ahsoka to befriend because he had a vision of her becoming Obi-Wan's padawan a few years before it happened and went OH. BABY SISTER.

Any fic on this topic would have a heavy focus on Anakin's experiences with disability and recovery.

I feel like, while he can recover from a lot of the muscle atrophy etc, he probably has permanent damage to his bones and general health. He needs mobility aids, maybe a service animal to keep an eye on his physical state. Possibly epilepsy, since there was so much done to him neurologically. He definitely sleeps more than most people, has a very specific dietary plan, and relies a lot on the Force for things like getting things off of shelves.

A lot of this fic would by necessity happen with Anakin in a medical pod, communicating either in chat format or with a speaker. Possibly projected as a hologram approximation of himself despite the real body being in the pod.

Especially early on, he really is just text chat, before the war starts.

I think for the first few months of the war, when Anakin is still just a criminal internet friend Ahsoka happens to have, there are a lot of instances of him slicing into her comm during a mission and offering directions or information while she's like. Three quarters of a mile into a sewage system infil.

He's been on mute this entire time, but someone asks if the others remember which way to go, and he just pops up with "turn left."

It's the first time Ahsoka's ever heard his voice (or rather, an approximation of what he thinks he'd sound like at this age using some synthesizers normally used for waiter droids,) and it scares the crap out of her.

He wants to tease his baby sister! Sure she doesn't know she's his baby sister yet. But it's his obligation as a big brother.

They spend most of those months thinking he's some super cool slicer in a basement lair with eight screens and a bottle of orange soda and, basically, they're imagining Hardison from Leverage.

It's uhhhhh not quite that.

I think Ahsoka's a little betrayed at first that Anakin didn't tell her who he was, but she gets over it in favor of THIS IS MY FAVORITE PERSON LOOK HOW COOL HE IS pretty quickly

"It's my older brother's birthday and if everybody doesn't clap for him I'm going to blow up this entire ship."

Ahsoka: I'm gonna rob a BANK and Skyguy's gonna help! Obi-Wan: Ahsoka please he's still reco-- Anakin: DAMN RIGHT I AM where are we going

A whole lot of the emotional core would be the development for Anakin and Obi-Wan in a context where one's been mourning the other for so many years, and feels guilt for accepting his death instead of searching for him, even though he had evidence of Anakin's death (like "Sidious used Anakin's DNA to feign an accurate corpse burnt to a crisp" levels of evidence).

Obviously, there needs to be a heavy plot regarding figuring who took Anakin, why they did what they did, and whether there's any way to find them again.

I think the Domino twins steal Anakin for shenanigans of their own regularly, in part because they were usually the two with Ahsoka when Anakin popped up and started offering advice unasked.

IDK how I want to do the Rex&Anakin dynamic. That part's still percolating.

I do think Obi-Wan is very… delicate with him? He fusses. Anakin appreciates the part where Obi-Wan regularly tells him he's proud and loves him, but he's quickly very irritated by Obi-Wan treating him like he's made of glass.

Obi-Wan, however, is much more emotionally delicate than in canon, because he lost his master and his padawan within two or so years of each other, and blames himself for both. Part of him is convinced that Anakin also blames him.

(And part of Anakin… does.)

(For giving up on him, instead of searching for him even after evidence of his death came up.)

(Even though he knows, from conversations with Ahsoka before he revealed his identity, that Obi-Wan mourned him for years upon years before he took another student)

There's probably a specific medic whose job is at least 25% "Skywalker stuff."

I feel like it's easy to assign Kix to be Anakin's primary medic (there's a Jedi back at the Temple that's in constant contact) BUT I think it would make sense for there to be someone on hand as an assistant for the day to day, since he's on a military vessel and most of it isn't built in a way that's easy for him to navigate, especially with the Force, so I think it would be interesting to have Dogma assigned as Anakin's temporary care aide.

He's definitely someone who'd thrive on having a detailed list of Things That Need Doing, for a Jedi that has trouble remembering to take the medication that Kix said he needed, or to eat, or what have you.

And Anakin would. Probably have Dogma help him break many laws and regulations. Could be good for him.

Anakin: I want some hot chocolate. Dogma: That's not on the list Kix gave me. Anakin: But I want it. Dogma: ... Anakin: [starts levitating ingredients] Dogma, vibrating and maybe tearing up a bit: SIR PLEASE--

(Obi-Wan can be convinced to give him the hot chocolate. His brain is just going Baby Boy. Baby.)

Dogma makes so many calls to Kix for help keeping Skywalker alive.

Someone suggested he get an exoskeleton-style aid (think Rhodey post-CACW), but I think he does prefer more mundane mobility aids. Like, he's been forcibly teched up for… eight years? It's nice to have something that's just. Not that.

It's a chair with a motor. It's crutches with special padding. It's the Force, sometimes. Yeah he could take a shot at complex external support, but... he'd rather stick with the basics.

It's also like. A separation thing? He still uses his neurological hookup to do data analysis and slicing for the GAR and the Jedi (even though he was told MANY times that he doesn't have to and everyone would like it very much if he just stayed home at the Temple and focused on recovering), but he'd like to be able to ditch the complex tech stuff by choice when he's not at work.

I think Anakin puts a lot of stock in his ability to be useful. He'd want to 'detox' from it, so to speak, for a few months at a time very year or so. Just get out somewhere rural with lots of nature and a manageable number of people, and minimal tech. Regular missions with AgriCorps, maybe.

But he'd still think that, now that he has these skills and connections, it's irresponsible to not use them to help people.

I do not have the energy to write this out as an entire epic, which it probably deserves, but. Concept.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The Frozen fic was ghost on the wire.

Cyberpunk AU. Major element is that some people get neurological hook-ups to the internet and slowly get addicted to it to the point where they lose themselves to it (think the dream addicts in Inception, I guess?) The parents had died early on, and the sisters had been split up Anna made friends with a weirdo online, used this friendship to investigate the suspicious deaths of the parents. Weirdo is an insanely good hacker. Goes on a Recovery mission for the weirdo. Turns out the weirdo is actually Elsa, who was forcibly hooked up to the internet as a weapon? Ish? IDK she's a mega-useful hacker but she's been trapped in a medical pod thing for the past however many years and can't walk. Can barely talk, and regularly gets back inside a medical pod due to the lack of motor function and medical instability, and she needs to speak clearly to plan Cool Heists for the conspiracy investigation.

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