#as you can see I have no life and a lot of free time

[luveline]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

When someone hurts you, you and Aaron both need time to get better, and to put things right. fem, 8k

cw canon typical violence, graphic scenes and imagery of assault/battery, recovery, mentions of being sick, issues eating. established relationship, lots of angst and comfort, hotch being vulnerable, jack being sweet 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

You lay backward over the luxurious stretch of the couch and sigh as your spine gives a sharp crick. Your head feels heavy after a long shower, your arms ache from a day at work, but the feeling of soft cotton on your legs deters any moping. 

I hope these are more comfortable, his note read, a white post it note stuck to a boutique bag. You wrap an arm around your waist remembering how Aaron’s message had made you feel: spoiled, and considered. 

You’d mentioned in passing that all your pyjamas are old and rough as a consequence, thought nothing of it, and promptly forgot about the conversation entirely. 

When Aaron finally comes home tonight, you’re going to give him a proper thank you. You can imagine his reaction to such a thing, his smile as he says it’s no problem, his eyes shuttering closed as you press a kiss to his cheek. You hadn’t realised how prevalent affection would become in your life after meeting him, but everything he does inspires love. Awful, soft, marshmallowy love where he looks at you and you want to sit in his lap. 

You slide your phone up your chest lazily and click the button on the side to light the display. Aaron hasn’t claimed to know when he’ll be home tonight. All he’d said was to let yourself in. 

It’s odd but not the worst thing in the world to be alone in his apartment. There’s less and less free space each time you visit as Jack begins to outgrow his and his fathers lodgings, but there’s never a stain or bad smell, the Hotchner apartment feels homey. You’re excited whenever you’re invited to spend the night with them. 

Maybe some time soon he’ll ask you to move in, or better, to marry him. You’re not a hundred percent sure how you feel about marriage, about being someone’s wife, but there’s a great well of pleasure to be found in the idea that Aaron would want to marry you. He makes you feel loved already in a hundred different ways but the ring might be nice, like a symbol to signify how much you mean to him. 

You rest your hand across your eyes. It’s silly to think of. Sillier to want so soon. You’ve been together for just under a year, and you have no false hopes about rushing into the future, but it’s certainly a future you want with him (and with Jack, too). He’s taking things slowly for a hundred different reasons but he loves you, and gifts like your new pyjamas cement that. He really listens to you. 

Your phone rings a moment later. 

You smile at the screen. It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves you too. 

“Hey,” Aaron says when you answer, his voice warm even through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“How come?” You sit up with a little start. 

“It’s getting late, honey. I called Jess and Jack was already gone.” He doesn’t say anything further. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I wanted to hear your voice, I think.” 

“Well, where are you?” You struggle to envision him speaking saccharinely like this where his colleagues could hear him. He’s nice to you often, but he’s a reserved man. 

“I’m just,” —a crunching sound of metal, the trunk of his car closing— “about to get in the car. I’ll be home before ten. Can I have you until then?” 

“I don’t see any reason to say no. But do you think you could come home a little faster? I have a crick in my neck.” 

“And you want me to fix that?” 

“You always fix my neck.” 

“How have you done it?” There’s a sound you assume to be the car door closing, but you can’t hear anything beyond that. 

“I have bad posture.” 

“You have perfect posture.” 

“No, it’s quite bad.”

He laughs loudly. It took some time to draw the humour from him but he isn’t as stony as you’d think, and for a while he didn’t have much worth laughing for, anyways. Whenever you hear it, you try to prompt it twice. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Aaron, it’s just like when you said my weird rash wasn’t weird.” 

He laughs again, to your pleasure. “It wasn’t weird, it was a heat rash, I promise. You act like you’ve never seen heat rash.” 

“One of us goes to hot cities all the time and one of us lives permanently in Virginia.” 

“What are you talking about? Virginia’s far from cold. You’re being argumentative, I can see your smile in my head. I’m never going to fix your crick if you keep acting like that.” 

“No, don’t be like that,” you laugh, tipping back into the cushions. “You’re always such a sore loser.” 

“What did I lose?” 

You can tell from his tone that you’ve promised yourself one of those hugs that borders on a straight jacket tightness, his face tucked into your neck as he asks you to repeat yourself. What did I lose? he’ll ask again, kissing your chin, the line of your jaw. Tell me clearly.  

“It hurts,” you say honestly, “please don’t be mad. I really need one.” 

“I’m not mad… I’m going under the overpass, my signal might cut out.” 

“Okie dokie. Hey, did you eat? I can make you something for when you get home. I got groceries.” 

“I’m not hungry, but you can make yourself hot cocoa, and I’ll drink it when I get there,” he says. 

“Or I could make us both some?” 

“It’s much more fun if I drink yours before you can, honey. You know that—”

You pause in the quiet, then hear a quick beeping. You pull your phone from your ear and find the call disconnected. 

Cruel overpass, you think. 

Sure he’ll call you back, you take your phone into his kitchen and set about finding all the things you’ll need for hot cocoa. One mug, because you should hate when he forces you to share, but you love the feeling of his fingers on yours as he takes it and the thankful kiss he dots on your cheek. 

The kettle is uncomplicated. You toy with the stovetop, set the kettle on the burner, and let the temperature rise. It begins whistling lightly a mere thirty seconds later. 

You click your phone on again. He’ll have passed through the tunnel now and will be calling you back any minute. You stare at the phone, hoping to summon him, slouched over the counter with the tin of cocoa powder by your fingers. The kettle whines with growing heat, but cool air kisses your back. 

Goosebumps rise. Up and down the lengths of your arms, the back of your neck—

A sudden chill. 

The lack of air comes before the hand, the pain a rush, a burst to be away from. Leather on your neck creaking without sympathy as a hand tightens and drags your body back against something hard. 

Not Aaron. Your scream comes strangled under cruel fingers as you fight to move forward again, straight for the burner, the kettle shoved across the burner grate and exploding with scalding water, heat of the burner kissing your chest— you scream, only it’s worse than a scream, sound from the deepest part of you forcing itself past the heat at your neck as you try to fling yourself away from the pain. 

You fall with a hard clout. “Stay still!” comes out enraged against the back of your neck. You drop to your knees, the pain lighting flaring up your chest, your gaze frantic as you search for a flame that isn’t there. You’re not on fire, you’re crawling and then scampering up into a standing position when the heavy weight drops itself on you again and smashes your face into the floor. 

All your fight leaves you. Your ears ring. Your panic wanes but the pain stays alert in your mouth. 

A hand grabs you by the back of the head and drives your face into the ground. It’s like light in your eyes and your nose, the brunt of it, the crack of your bone and the hot trickle of blood that swiftly follows. You gurgle in pain, spluttering and gagging against the linoleum, waiting for Aaron to turn you over and say sorry. It’s an accident.

Blood drains from your nose in spurts to match your racing pulse, so much blood you can see your eyes reflected in the dark stretch of it. Water drips down the front of the stove, your breath aches and begs, and your attacker takes a measured breath. 

He flips you over. You can’t slide away, there’s nothing left in you, your head a second body as he raises something. 

Your phone rings on the counter. 

“Please, don’t,” you plead with a sob.

You pass out as the pain connects. Just as quickly as it started, your body takes the reins. 

—

There’s a strange darkness waiting for you. Like waking before your alarm and stealing those last minutes, body aching, not wanting to get up and face the day. Aaron gets up early every morning, sometimes as early as four AM, and whenever you get up with him your eyes hurt for hours. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

Hey, hey, I think your boyfriend’s coming.

What will he make of my handiwork?

You didn’t stay awake long enough for that one, did you? But you’re waking up now.

The pain is enough to wake you up again, a hot drag down the side of you to your hip and in. You aren’t aware of the sounds you make, but you can hear them. Your panicked squealing as the heat presses further and further in. Your crying, and your whispering, “Stop, stop.” 

“There’s handsome,” the dark voice says. “I’ve gotta go hide somewhere, does he carry after hours? I think I’ll find out.” 

“Oh,” you say, feeling sickly. You attempt to curl into yourself, when did you turn onto your back? “No,” you mumble, lips wet with something hot. 

“Honey?” a voice asks. 

“Honey,” you repeat, woozy again, darkness falling in all over again, where it stays. 

Honey, are you in here?

—

The window behind Aaron’s shoulder is cold. Rain patters fast like floods, thunder occasionally chewing through clouds, and Jack Hotchner cries sluggish tears into his dad’s shoulder. 

Aaron has his eyes closed. They’ve been at this for a while. “Shh, shh shh, buddy,” he says softly, patting the bottom of Jack’s back. He’d sway him back and forth if his arms weren’t about to fall off. 

Jack squirms closer, no room left between them. 

“I know it’s scary,” Aaron says. 

Jack just cries. This approach of quiet support isn’t working; Jack isn’t a baby that needs to be put to sleep, he’s a panicking little kid, and Aaron needs to change gears. He ushers him away from his chest and crosses his arm behind Jack’s back. Careful, he shifts Jack’s weight to free his other arm and brings his fingers up to the silky brown hair dropping onto Jack’s forehead. 

“She’s okay,” Aaron says, stroking Jack’s hair. His little forehead is clammy. “She’s not hurting. I know it looks scary, honey, but… she’s just resting.” 

Jack looks him in the eyes. “Her face.” 

“I know.” He nods emphatically. “It’s hard to see. Blood isn’t nice. You don’t have to see her again today, not if it’s too scary.” 

Jack lifts a hand to Aaron’s face. Clumsy but with clear attempts to be careful, he wipes at the skin under Aaron’s eye. Aaron bites back a smile. 

“I look tired,” he says. 

“Yeah.” Jack brings his hand back to wipe his eyes. He sobs as he does it. Aaron can’t describe the ache it gives him to see it. 

“Buddy, I’ll do it. Let me wipe your face. I can do it.” 

Jack drops his hands. Aaron turns his hand and wipes the smudge of Jack’s tears from hot cheeks, testing the waters with a little smile. 

“I couldn’t see you under all those tears.” 

Jack does a little smile back. “Yes you can.” 

“I couldn’t! But now I’ve wiped all your face I can see you again. You’re handsome, did we know that?” 

Jack giggles. He sniffles, and he presses his palm to Aaron’s neck. “I don’t want her to be sad, dad.” 

“She’s going to be sad, because something scary happened, but it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of her.” 

Aaron would offer to take him home, but they can’t go home. They may not go home for a long time —the team is still trying to work out how someone made it into the apartment without alerting the building’s security or Aaron’s internal system. And then escaped again without Aaron’s notice. Until then, Aaron has to make a decision about a safe house, for himself, Jack, and Jess, though she's extremely unreceptive to the idea. 

Aaron has to look after Jack, and he needs to take care of you. 

“What do you think, bud?” he asks, cupping Jack’s head in his hand. “Do you want to go home?” 

“You said I can give her a hug.” 

“If it’s too scary, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to get upset again.” 

“I’m not scared. I want to give her the hug,” he says. 

Aaron pulls him in for a hug of his own. “Okay, buddy. Just try to think of it like this. She’s where she needs to be to get better. Everybody here is looking after her. She’ll be okay soon.” 

Aaron looks over Jack’s head down the hospital hallway. It’s a quiet ward, and here between the main ward doors and the hallway that leads down to the individual rooms there’s complete silence. Night is approaching quickly again, and with it comes Aaron’s panic. Your head turned into a puddle, your face lax of expression in the dark. He can’t stop finding the women he loves bloody and on their backs. 

“Ready?” he murmurs. “Can you walk with me? My arms are tired.”

“Yeah.” 

Aaron puts Jack down gently onto his feet. He neatens his hair, chucking him under the chin as he goes to see his smile. He’s so pretty, like Haley was, with shiny eyes. He’s a beautiful kid. Aaron takes his hand and together they make their way down the hallway to your room. 

You’re sleeping. 

Aaron herds Jack through the door and to the plastic covered chair by your side, where he lifts him up and sits him down. He stays between you both. Jack isn’t scared of you, just the blood, but he wants to show Jack that he’s going to protect him from anything he needs protecting from. He also desperately wants to touch you, and reassure himself that you’re still breathing. 

He looks for your hand. Your pinky finger is splinted, but he can take it with care, give the palm of it a squeeze. 

The blood matted in your hair has finally been washed away after a turbulent day, as well as the staining that marred your face. Your nose is broken, and looks it, the bruises so fierce your eyes have turned puffy and your top lip has inflamed. There are second degree burns in multiple places but most affectedly on your chest. There’s a stab wound at your hip, allegedly done with a small blade. It nicked your small intestine. The bandages laid over you are a lump under your hospital gown. 

Aaron looks at you, and he feels a passionate disdain for himself. He wishes he could… be someone else. Someone who doesn’t have such a deep connection to a job that hurts the people around him, over and over. Haley used to say he was obsessed with being the hero, but this doesn’t feel heroic. 

“Do you wanna give her your cuddle?” he asks softly. 

Jack stays sitting. 

He’ll have to give it to you himself. Careful, Aaron leans down over your prone body and presses a half kiss to your ear, the only place that won’t hurt. 

You have an IV drip going into your arm, painkillers, an ECG monitor to the left. The room is white but busy, you’re a burst of colour against it all, your cuts and bruises, the evidence of violence he can’t remove. Aaron’s tired. He perches on the gap of bed by your leg and holds your hand, turning to Jack, who watches with a frown. 

“She’s sleeping,” Aaron says. 

“When can she come home?” 

“In a few days.” He feels the pad of your hand, terrified of your broken finger but needing to hold a part of you. 

“Why is she sleeping all day?” 

Traumatic experiences are exhausting. “I think she might want to be alone, so she sleeps.” 

“Should we go?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “I think we should stay. When she wakes up again she’ll be happy to see us, because we’re not strangers.” 

“We’re family,” Jack says. He’d liked that, when the nurse asked you how Aaron was related to you. Family only.

“We’re her family,” Aaron agrees. 

If he somehow miraculously fell out of love with you, you’d still be family to them. You’ve given so much of your heart since you met them. Aaron wants everything you have to give. 

You wake in a slow, slow upheaval. It takes effort on your part, the opening of sore eyes, the dreary decision to face your pain. Your hand jumps in his but relaxes when he shushes you, your slimmer fingers stilling under his rubbing thumb. For a split second, you keep your gaze half-lidded, jaw soft, like you’ve been indulging in a stolen nap. 

Then your breath catches and you screw your eyes tightly. 

“You’re okay,” he says, quietly, and not as lightly as he means to, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” in quick succession. 

“Hurts,” you say, and gasp, a whine stuck in your throat. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Jack shouldn’t watch this but he can’t leave you alone. “It’s okay,” he says, holding your wrist to stop it climbing up your bruised face. 

You were worse the first time you woke up. Catatonic, then sobbing. You mumble and whimper now, pain threading goosebumps down your arms. 

“It hurts too much,” you say. A sob falls out of you like you’ve been ripped open. 

Aaron doesn’t think, but an instinct sparks. The pain, to hit you right out of the gate like this, to make you say something like that when you’ve always always made your problems small, must be torture. It must feel new and sudden all over again. 

Aaron checks that Jack is alright and leaves the room. He looks down one hallway and then the other, but there’s no nurse around —he races to the reception desk and begs the two nurses there for help with you, “She’s in intense pain,” he says, grasping the desk. 

The nurse he’s more familiar with clears her throat. “Mr. Hotchner, she’s already had enough motrin for two people at your request, she really shouldn’t need–”

“Pain is just as important to treat as the injury.” 

A second nurse puts her salad down with raised brows. “Do you want to overdose her?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Aaron has always seen himself as a gentleman, but the argument that ensues is tricky to navigate while remaining respectful, and he’s no closer to better treatment for you by the end of it. He gives each nurse a disapproving glower and takes his phone from his pocket, turning on the spot, ready to call whoever it is he needs to call for a second opinion. He’s not gonna listen to you cry when there’s no need. 

He pushes the door open with the phone still clutched in his other hand. Jack’s climbed onto your bed. He cuddles your face, sitting by your pillows and bent over you protectively. 

Aaron lets out a breath. 

“It’s okay,” he says, his arm behind your head and his arm on your shoulder. “W’gonna take care of you.” 

“I know,” you say, crying without sound, shaking under his arms.

His cheek smushes against your forehead. Your eyes are closed and your face braced for contact Jack doesn’t make, careful not to hurt you as he rubs his cheek into your skin. Your blankets are falling off of you from the squirming and your bruises shine with tears in the light, but Jack has calmed you down some. 

Aaron shouldn’t have left Jack with you. He’s been so scatterbrained since he found you when he should be the opposite, but Jack is doing better than Aaron managed alone. 

“I’m sorry for crying,” you say slowly. “I’m hurting, but it’s not bad. I’m okay.” 

“That’s good. You have a big scratch on your face, and bruises.” 

“I know.” 

“Dad says you have a bruise on your tummy too.” 

“I got lots of bruises, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” You bring your hand up injured and uncaring to rub his leg. “You’re being a really brave boy, thank you.” 

A tear rolls down your cheek. 

“It’s teamwork,” Jack says. “I hug you and you hug me.” 

“Is that what you want? You want a hug?” 

“I want to go home,” he says, hugging you harder. 

You grasp his arm loosely where it’s just under your chin. “Jack, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 

Your breath comes quickly, but Jack moves his arm away from your bruised neck and you try to calm yourself down. 

Aaron jolts himself back into action. “Sweetheart,” he says, rushing to sit Jack back and give you more space. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

He watches. Not sure what to say. Not sure saying anything is wise. You squint at him through your lashes, eyes opening slowly, your mouth a line pressed hard to stop from crying. 

“I think it's time for Jack to go home,” he suggests gently. 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes swimming with tears. 

“No.” Jack squeezes your head again, to your panic. 

“Jack, buddy, please don’t touch her neck,” Aaron says, grabbing Jack from your pillow. 

He erupts into tears again. Frantic and vying for you, Aaron tries to calm him and he kicks against his chest, tears turning to disgruntled sobs at not getting what he wants. You wince, pressing your face completely into the pillow. 

Aaron carries Jack from your room, phone in hand. 

—

Is she breathing? Can she talk? 

I don’t– I don’t know, I don’t– She’s breathing. Honey, can you hear me? I don’t know what to stop. I don’t know where it’s all coming from. 

Where’s the worst of the blood? 

It’s everywhere. 

Abdominal? Chest? 

I can’t tell. I can’t tell. 

Mr. Hotchner, you can’t panic. Does she have a chest wound?

Yes. Yes, but– 

Is she conscious? How’s her pulse? Be ready to start chest compressions. 

Honey, can you hear me? 

Your name said clearly. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” 

“Yes,” you murmur. 

“If you need a minute, that’s okay.” 

You cover your mouth with your hand. Emily Prentiss has a soft voice like your boyfriend’s when she wants to have it. She’s never spoken to you like this, none of his colleagues have, but since the incident, everybody treats you like you’re made of glass. 

Cognitive interviews are meant to happen immediately after an accident, but you weren’t up for company. Aaron promised this would be on your terms, that Emily is the most practised, and that she’s reaped the most information from them than the rest of the team. So far, it’s worked to drag bad memories to the surface. 

“Maybe we should start from the beginning.” 

There isn’t a beginning. There’s just conversation. Aaron’s hand on your heart and his shaky voice, so unlike him.

“Okay.” 

Emily reaches for your hand. She smiles, and her nice features get nicer. That’s another thing they all share, good looks. “Okay. What did you notice, in the kitchen? It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she reminds you. 

You close your eyes. 

“What stuck out?” 

“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’ve been in there lots of times, and nothing ever changes.” 

“Nothing? Not even the drawings on the fridge?” 

“Jack’s particular about his best work, even if I think they should all be on display.” 

Emily’s voice turns to a shard of itself. “What did you do? Can you take me through it step by step? Make yourself a cup of hot chocolate.” 

“I never got that far.”

“What did you do?” 

“I filled the kettle.” 

“What kettle?” 

You don’t understand the need for specificity, but you answer. “Aaron got it for me, when he… he told me he loved me, and when we got home he’d bought me a kettle and a bunch of stuff to make my being there easier. The kettle, because… he said something about superheated water. How the microwave can be dangerous, and this would be easier than a pan.” 

“Alright. Okay, and what did you do after that?” 

“I put the kettle on the stove.” You lit the burner, and heat kissed your palm, and suddenly the room had felt cold. “I got goosebumps.” 

“When?” 

“The kettle started to whistle, and it was cold.”

“And then–”

“Then he grabbed me.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says softly. 

You touch your nose. “I tried… He didn’t feel like a person. He didn’t feel like someone I was fighting, it was just painful.” 

“Like he was quick on his feet?” 

“He was silent. I didn’t hear him until I made him fall.” 

“How big did he feel?” 

Your stomach churns. Big. He’d felt big. 

Where’s the worst of the blood?

“He said he was going to hide,” you remember. 

“He said that? He said ‘hide’?

“Yeah. And he asked me if Aaron carries after hours.” 

“When was this?” 

It’s a headache. You try to remember more, because that’s what they need right now. If you ever want to go home, if you want Jack to go home, you need to remember more. The BAU are good, but nobody can make a map out of slivers. 

“That was at the end,” you say. 

“After he stabbed you?” 

You wince. “Yes. After.” 

“You’re doing so good,” she praises, “I just want to fill in the gaps.” 

“I can’t remember. I was unconscious.” 

“When Hotch found you?” 

“No, before.”

“Before?” she asks. 

You’re sick of sitting there with your eyes closed. Sick of your hands shaking with nowhere to hide them, and sick of feeling sick, your nausea as present as the stinging pain of your burned wrist against your sleeve each time you move. 

You open your eyes and look around the conference room for something interesting. How nice would it be to think of something else for a few minutes?

“He called it handiwork when he cut me. Asked if I thought Aaron would like it,” you say, bordering monotonous as your gaze fizzles, unfocused, across the room. 

“Okay, Y/N. Okay. I know you’re tired.” She reaches for your hands to squeeze at the same time. “You did really well. Any details at all are details we can use to find him.” 

You’re not in the mood for talking anymore. Tears burn your eyes, waiting for a blink to set them loose. 

“I want to see Aaron,” you confess quietly. 

“I’ll find him for you.” Emily stands but bends, the dark of her hair a contrast to her pale face. She’s lovely, and her hand is gentle on yours. “Are you okay? Can I get you something to eat?” 

So Aaron’s not keeping that to himself. “I want to see him, please.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

This is a horrible room. It’s not their fault, but the big white board is tacked with bad photos of grisly cases —currently your own. You stare at a photograph of your blood in the kitchen and don’t know what to do. Should you look away? You hadn’t realised you bled so much. 

You turn your chair toward the door. Emily looks back as she leaves and smiles at you softly, but your eyes are already moving to the smaller dry erase board by the doorway. It’s ‘Hotch’s turn to clean up on Thursdays. How strange that they make the boss clean the conference room. 

You can picture him picking up coffee cups and wiping down the table. You can always picture Aaron. 

You can see him hovering over you, his hand pressed to the bloody mess of your hip to stop the blood. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, wanting to break from the memory, following Aaron’s example. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat it into your hands, head tilting down. You sink until your knuckles touch your knees. 

That’s all he says when you panic. He’ll say it over and over again until you can breathe right. I have you, I have you, you’re okay. 

He’s much quieter this time. You hear his footsteps, his familiar gait, your head pounding too hard to move. Aaron makes a sound between a sigh and a hum, like he’s saying a sorry hello as he kneels in front of you. His hand takes your face, rubs softly over your ear. 

“My head’s just hurting,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t respond. You sit together for some time as your mind races with bad memories, your fear a rush of goosebumps down the lengths of your arms and thighs. It’s hard not to think about what happened, mostly because you’re still a walking bruise, your stitches sting when you move, the blisters on your chest ache, all of it inescapable. But it’s your anxiety that plagues you most. You’re in a constant state of dread. 

You had no idea someone could hurt you as badly as they had until it happened, and now you’re desperate not to be hurt again. 

“You have to look after me,” you say eventually, throat sore with how awful it feels to say. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Please don’t let me get hurt again.” 

Total silence. You sniffle at his lack of an answer, only slightly comforted by his hands at your wrists now, pulling them from your face. “Let’s sit up,” he says, standing himself. “Come on, let’s sit up. You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your abdomen.” 

You lean back and everything aches like a stretch after a long run or a bad night’s sleep. 

Aaron pulls a chair next to yours. When he sits, your knees are pressed in between one another’s thighs, so close he could hug you. You might need one.  He’s given you a ridiculous amount of them each day, some for him and some for you. 

He has with him a takeout box and a bottle of water. 

“Here,” he says, popping the seal of the drink. “Three sips.” 

You feel like crying, but you drink. He opens the takeout box to reveal a normal looking sandwich already cut into two halves, but he takes a plastic knife from his pocket, peels away the wrapping, and cuts the sandwich again into quarters. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you say. 

“No, you’re not. You won’t be.” He presses the sandwich flat with his hands and holds it to you until you take it. “Please, Y/N. You only have to eat what you can.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“Please.” 

“Did Emily tell you about my interview?” 

He reaches for your thigh. Mildly unlike him when you aren’t at home. You assume it to be a tether for your sake. “No. Is there something you think I should know?” 

“I don’t want to say it again.” 

“Then you don’t have to. Someone will tell me when I get back.” 

You pinch the fluffy bread in your hands, eyeing wearily at the wet insides. “Can I come with you?” 

“You’re having trouble in the cognitive interviews, you won’t want to hear what we have to say.” 

You split the sandwich in half again, watching as salad and mayonnaise ooze from the bread. 

“If you don’t eat, you won’t get better,” he says, a touch stern. 

“I can’t eat when you won’t let me come with you.” 

“I’m not the only person capable of protecting you. I…” He circles your wrist before you can make a mess. “Can you please eat it?” 

You take a bite to appease him, your stomach roiling, food wet and cold on your tongue. You eat the whole quarter queasily, a lump at the back of your throat begging you to stop. 

Aaron takes an empty hand and rubs it tenderly. “Thank you,” he says, that rubbing turned more forceful, his hand journeying to your elbow and back again. 

It’s sweet how attuned he is to your needing his touch, but mortifying. This entire experience had been embarrassing from start to end. Couldn’t defend yourself, can’t get to grips with it, and can’t keep anything down. Aaron looks at you and your bruises and you wonder if he’s seeing you with blood matted in your hair, or hearing you beg for him to get you something stronger. All you’d wanted was a sedative. 

“I’m far from the only person capable of protecting you,” he says. 

“You saved me,” you say. You mean it in every sense of the world. 

“…This is my fault.” 

“I want to be with you,” you say honestly. “I don’t feel okay by myself right now, I just need you, or I feel so sick I wish that I died.” The anxiety is marrow deep. 

Aaron looks gutted. “Don’t say that.” His hand goes back to yours, back to tenderness. “I know you're scared.” 

“Then why won’t you listen?” you ask weakly. 

“I’m listening to you,” he says, his tone a dulcet, pleasing softness you’ve never ever heard before, “I need you to be safe, and I need Jack to be safe, and I can’t do that while he’s still out there.” His brows pinch together, agonised. “I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t protect you. But I won’t let anything happen to you again.

“I love you. Please believe that I’m doing what’s best for you right now.” 

You turn your head away. He cups your cheek regardless. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

“I know.” 

“No, I love you.” 

He’s saying sorry.

“I love you,” you mumble back. 

“How are you feeling? Is anything hurting more? Weeping?” 

Your eyes are heavy at his touch. “You only looked at me a couple of hours ago.” 

“Alright. Can I kiss you? I need to go.” 

You don’t answer. Aaron kisses your chin, your jawline, the type of roving, teasing kisses he’d give as he squeezed your sides, only he doesn’t squeeze you, he can’t without hurting you. His hand hesitates just above your deepest wound. 

His bright kiss works to spark a modicum of life back into you. Not a lot, but enough. It was likely his intention, some quick prodding kisses to remind you of something happy between you both. 

You curl your fingers over his hand and turn your face for a chaste peck. He smiles, the curve of his lips evident and relieving against yours. 

“Someone will take you back to the safe house, okay? Give Jack a kiss for me,” he says. 

You nod. Aaron strokes your cheek. 

—

Your assailant could have killed you while you were vulnerable, but he didn’t. “He assumes he’ll have another chance,” Emily surmises. 

“That’s cocky,” JJ mutters. 

“It’s telling,” Aaron says. “But he won’t.” 

The coaching has been extensive. You, sick, a breath from tears and hurting, your shoulders in his hands and his grip too tight. If someone tells you I’m dead, you wait. If Morgan tells you I’m dead, you ask Rossi. If he says I’m dead, you ask Emily. You can’t believe the first thing someone says. No one is going to move you from this safe house to another without seeing me first. If I do get hurt, you and Jack will be moved separately. You will always get my confirmation before you’re moved. 

I’m not gullible, you’d said, wincing at his sharp tone. 

It’s not about that. People will lie, and they will lie well. They will talk their way into the house if you let them. You can’t let them. 

I won’t. 

He’s racing against a countdown, because no matter what he says, what you know, or how many agents wait outside your house, sometimes it’s a force of will. 

Foyet didn’t need much more than that. 

He admittedly feels on surer footing knowing where you are. The decision to guard you without putting you in WITSEC is aching and scary but better, too. He knows where you are. He can be there in ten minutes. No guessing games, but no hiding for you either. 

Your dread is taking over everything you do. Today’s the first day since you came home almost two weeks ago that you could function without a live-in nurse or Jess there to look after Jack, and already he’s worried, because he’d convinced you total honesty was what’s best for the both of you, and so your texts are candid. 

One an hour for his sake, more if you're up to it.

Threw up my beta blockers. Jack misses you, he wants to make you a Lego boat and fishing rod, but I’m not sure how to do it. Please make sure you eat dinner. 

Your next message makes him smile, thankfully. I’m kidding about the dinner thing. Ha. I had one of those gels you got for me, and Jack wants fries, so I’m making waffle fries. 

He texts back quickly. Eat dinner. Please tell Jack I miss him too, and don’t worry about the boat, he’ll work it out. Then, feeling awful, he adds, I love you

Aaron should go home. He’d feel better if he knew he was there to help you keep your medication down, but if he leaves… He knows his team will give you everything they have, but he has more. He can fix this. 

He can’t fix this, god, his head hurts badly. You’re covered in cuts and bruises and burns and he thinks he can make up for that? You’ve been brutalised. Aaron can’t believe this is happening again. 

He rubs his brow. 

“You okay?” Emily asks. 

When he looks up, JJ is gone. 

“I’m fine.” 

“It��s okay if you’re not.” 

He’s not fine, but he knows what she’s asking. “I’m okay enough to do this,” he says. 

It’s hard not to confuse you with memory, your hurting similar to his own, your situation one that he’s already lived. Haley will haunt him for life. It doesn’t usually feel as punishing as he fears he deserves: he gets to remember the best parts of her everyday. He sees her in Jack all the time. He sees her in you, occasionally —you’ll touch his hair or rub his arm like she would’ve done, and it doesn’t make him miss her any more than he does, he’s not in the business of wishing you weren’t yourself, he loves you, but he remembers her. Aaron remembers how he failed her every day. 

He can’t fail you, too. 

“Is it ever easy?” Emily asks. 

Aaron looks around for a bottle of water. “Is what?” 

“Being in love.” 

He thinks about it. “I must make it look hard.” 

She laughs softly. “Sometimes, yeah.” 

Maybe that’s not fair, then, to you. For him to make it seem difficult to love you. To fail to correct Emily when she asks. 

He chooses his words carefully. “Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. But… I continue to work a job I know makes me hard to love in return.” And that puts you in danger. 

It doesn’t feel wrong to be sincere. Perhaps it’s easier with Emily. She saw so much of him during Foyet, and she’s family, truly. He can tell her how intense it’s felt. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem hard for her,” Emily says. 

He shakes his head. 

She continues regardless, “Even during her cognitive, she mentioned the first time you told her you loved her. When it was over she wanted to see you over anything else.” 

But I put her here, he wants to say. Or doesn’t want to say at all, but instead knows with surety. 

“She can’t eat if I’m not home,” he says. What a thing to do to someone. “It’s my fault.” 

Emily smiles, hair slipping off of her shoulder as her expression turns to playfulness. “I think you’re seeing it all wrong. Something bad happened to her, and you’re so safe to her that you make it better when you’re with her. That’s not fault, Hotch. Just love.” 

He turns his attention back to the board without another word. 

—

When the day comes, when they find the man who hurt you, you’re sitting at home with Jack Hotchner in your lap. You’re laughing at his laughing, cartoon fish on the TV, and Aaron’s got a gun in his hand fifty miles away. You both giggle, nearly in hysterics as the safe house living room glows pink and red, Jack’s favourite character swimming hurriedly across the screen, as Aaron negotiates the arrest. 

Usually capable of mediation, Aaron finds his patience completely unravelled. He offers the UnSub two choices: he surrenders now, immediately, and he keeps his life, or he deliberates and Aaron kills him. 

He has reason to believe the UnSub will try again, of course. Will keep hurting you until it sticks. 

He goes home satisfied.

“Dad’s home!” you say excitedly, your movie long finished, your thighs numb and stitches stinging where Jack has leaned against you. You encourage him off of you as the front door closes, the cold air from outside rushing in. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. 

“Yeah!” You stumble into a standing position, sure you look about as disgusting as you have since the situation began, promptly sitting back down as head rush hits. 

Jack races for the door, meeting Aaron in the hallway with a whoosh. “Hey!” 

“Hi, junior g-man, what are you doing?” 

“We watched Finding Nemo,” Jack says, “and now I’m hugging you, duh.” 

“Duh. Well, I need to talk to Y/N for five minutes. Can you wash your hands for dinner?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.”

You hear the sound of a light kiss, and then Jack rockets across the hallway and up the stairs. Aaron walks into the doorway, tie still knotted but with no suit jacket, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. He wears a strange expression.

“You got him?” you ask. 

He puts a white bag on the coffee table, looking down at you fondly. “I got him.” 

“How did you find him?” 

He crouches down in front of you. He’s so careful to be harmless to you now, so tentative. “You’re not the only woman he hurt. We dealt with him in the past. From the information you gave Emily during your interview, and the information he left behind, we found him… If you weren’t as brave as you are, I couldn’t have kept you and Jack safe.” He holds your knee. “Thank you.” 

You stare at him. Staring, wondering what he means. “Brave?” 

“Brave.” 

“I’m a coward.” 

He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” 

All you've done for days is cry and throw up and bleed, literally. You’ve ruined clothes and sheets, thrown up in his lap, terrified and aching. Each time was met with the same gentleness. A kiss on the cheek, or a hand rubbing your back. Is that bravery? You feel like a baby. 

Aaron’s brow is relaxed. He takes your two legs into his hands, and he looks at you with a reverence that leaves you breathless. 

“You’re hurt forever because of me,” he says quietly, you strain to hear him, “because of who I am, and what I choose to be.” 

“How can you say that? It’s not your fault.” 

“It wouldn’t have happened to you if I hadn’t missed his MO the first time.” 

“You’re not putting the knife in anyone’s hand,” you argue. 

“But it keeps happening.” 

His hair shines dark and wet. It must be raining outside, the safe house walls are thick, the windows shuttered permanently, you haven’t heard a peep. You stroke it back from his forehead. 

“Remember… when we first got together, and you told me you were sorry for how hard being with you could be. And I said it was okay, that it wasn’t hard, and you said it would be?” 

“I remember,” he says, practically mouths. 

“I was so afraid when...” You swallow roughly. “I still am. But not– not of you. Not of what you can do. When you told me it was going to be hard, I thought, well, it’s worth it, because I really liked you then and I love you now.” Tears collect in your eyes. Safe. I’m safe. “And you look after me, so– so–” 

You stop as your voice turns to glass, worried you’ll make a fool of yourself and cry in his hands. 

“I didn’t want this for you,” he says. 

“Nobody wants this. Bad things happen to everyone, but who has someone like you to look after them?” 

He breathes out heavily. “Please… don’t cry.” 

You wipe your cheeks, taking a lengthy pause before you say, “I’m okay now.” 

He looks at you in silence. 

“Come and sit with me,” you say, scrubbing your cheeks, hot tears cooling on the backs of your hands. “Your knees.” 

He actually smiles. It changes his entire face. “What about my knees?” 

Aaron sits on the couch next to you atop Jack’s blanket, a bag of pretzels tipping between your leg and his. You attempt to rake his damp hair into submission as his fingers run against your thighs, fishing for pretzels to put back into the bag. 

You’d like for him to grab you and kiss you harshly, give you one of his straight jacket hugs, some roughhousing, but you won’t get that from him until you're better, and even then, it’s up in the air. So much has changed. 

But not everything. 

“I love you,” you murmur, fingertips scratching down behind his ear to the back of his head. 

He turns to you, sagging with relief and exhaustion. “Kiss?” he asks quietly. 

You nod. He holds your cheek, and you close your eyes at the same time for a kiss. It’s not a lot, but you have time. He can give you another one when you’re both better recovered. 

He pulls away. You open your eyes, finding his closed, his face downturned. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Was Jack good?” 

“Jack’s always good.” 

“Did the nurse have anything to say about your chest?” 

“She said it’s healing okay. That I need to use, uh, scar patches when they start to scab.” 

“I can get those.” 

“I know, I knew you would.” 

He gathers you up for a hug. For a moment, you think he’ll move on, that the end of your nightmare will kill his remorse, but he breathes in, nose wedged against your cheek. 

“Do you think that tonight, we could pretend it didn’t happen?” You’d like to just sit with him, press your hand to his chest and doze. It’s the first night in a while that you’ll feel completely. 

“Yeah. I can do that.” He hugs you rather tightly. “Do you want to see your present?” he asks, relaxing his grip. 

“My present?” 

He grabs the bag on the coffee table and places it in your lap. “I’m worried it’ll remind you of bad memories, but I wanted you to have nice things then, and I still do.” 

In the bag, there’s a pair of pyjamas. Very different to the ones you’d been wearing when you were attacked, they were girly and sweet, soft in your hands, these are sturdy. Still soft, but thick. The shirt is short-sleeved and the pants cuffed at the ankles, a hoodie tucked underneath them, and a packet of minky socks. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Thanks for everything, for saving you twice, for taking care of you at your worst, and for wanting you to have something comfortable to wear at the end of it. To have experienced an abjectly cruel battering will leave its marks in your forever, but you meant what you told him. He looks after you, and you love him. 

He kisses your shoulder. “You don't need to say that.” 

He doesn’t add anything else, his nose pressed to your shoulder, his hand on your hip. Whatever goes unsaid can be felt in the other’s touch. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank u for reading!! it’s been a long time since I wrote a fic for hotch and it’s hard to write him being vulnerable but I hope this is alright anyways and that you enjoyed :D please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it (cos that way my fics get shown to more people <3) ❤️

[ghostlyferrettarot]

♥︎PAC: 🤍🫧The beauty other's see in you🫧🤍

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🤍If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🤍

🫧Masterlist🫧

🫧Pile 1: Queen of Wands, 3 of Cups and The Hanged Man.

Hi pile 1! Other's see you as a really charismatic and fun person! I sense that maybe you doubt yourself sometimes or don't see your traits. In Other's people's eyes you are someone confident, who can achieve everything they want; a true star is what im hearing.

There's something about your energy that attracts Other's a lot; you keep them entertained, you are encouraged to try acting/singing/ect. Activities that can put yourself out there more often.

Many may even be jealous of you. They see someone fun, confident and outgoing, so they project their insecurities in you; which has nothing to do with you and a lot to do with them, so don't even put attention to it.

I see that many want to be your friends too but they feel intimidated by you, other's also feel like you are "out of their league", many may have a crush on you. A truly star pile 1!

🫧Song:

🫧Pile 2: 2 of Wands, Queen of Swords and King of Pentacles.

Hi pile 2! You are so fearless and other's love it so much! Your aura is so powerful. Other's see you as someone so succesful and gentle at the same time, you bring a lot of peace to other's in the way you are not afraid to be yourself.

I feel like you are really unique and special for other's, you may be living rent free in other's mind; other's see you as someone really talented, who picks things up easily and gracefuly, there's a certain charm that's makes other's comfortable around you a lot.

I also see that you may feel other's energies a lot, it's like you can sense other's intentions. Other's may be a little intimidating by you also, they think that everything comes easily for you, it's like you are a natural and that makes them angry in some way. But you do you pile 2, a true boss energy! You are probably a good manifestator too.

🫧Song:

🫧Pile 3: Page of Cups, 9 of Cups and Ace of Pentacles.

Hi pile 3! You have a beautiful and Soft energy to you. People feel secure and comfortable around you. I also hear that other's love talking to you, they feel as if they can be with you for hours without feeling bored.

You are like "princess", is what im hearing, in other's eyes. There's also something about your smile, other's love it. You just feel like a peaceful spring day, other's sense your humble and nurturing energy. I feel like you probably like to help other's too, listen to them without judging, and they appreciate that aspect of you. They feel as if they can go to you without naturaly, you are just really sweet and good when it comes to those you care about.

Many may want to be your friend or many may fantasize about having you in their life. A true Princess pile 3!

🫧Song:

🫧🤍 Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 🤍🫧

[uyuforu]

Astro Observations: Lunar Return Chart II

Finally succeeded to make a gradient text lol. Also wanted to post more LRC observations because it's lacking on the internet >:(

How to make a LRC?

✮⋆˙ Go on Astro.com

✮⋆˙ Free Horoscopes > Horoscope Drawings & Data > Extended Chart Selection

✮⋆˙ Chart Type: Scroll to "Lunar Return Chart"

✮⋆˙ Start Date: I suggest to start with 1st of the month and you'll see the date written when your LRC starts on your chart.

╰┈➤ For ex: For April, mine starts on April 12th 2024 and the next date if May 5th 2024 for my May LRC. So be careful about the dates!

✮⋆˙ Don't forget to add additional objects if you want to, and you are done!

All pictures are from Pinterest.

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Solar Return Observations I

જ⁀➴ Lunar Return Observations I

જ⁀➴ Solar Return Synastry III

Book a private reading: menus ; Q&A ; rules ; instagram

Buy me a Kofi •ᴗ•

₊˚⊹♡ Stellium in 6H means you'll be very busy with work this month, or just busy generally.

₊˚⊹♡ Traveling indicators in LRC:

╰┈➤ 4H Ruler in the 4H

╰┈➤ Jupiter 4H

╰┈➤ Sun/ Jupiter/ Sagittarius/ Part of Fortune in 9H

╰┈➤ Ruler of 9H/ 12H in 9H/ 12H.

₊˚⊹♡ If 4H Ruler is Mars and is in the 4H, this can mean the travel will be quick, not last long, and you may not go far either (meaning you travel in the country, or not too far from where u live).

₊˚⊹♡ Part of Fortune 1H could mean you can find yourself more pretty or more attractive this month.

₊˚⊹♡ Pluto 2H could mean there is a big change in your finances! If it conjunct/ sextile/ trines Jupiter, this is a big positive change! You could gain more money this month or get more money opportunities related to a big change! If it trines Jupiter, this can mean Jupiter is in the 6H, meaning this is related to a big change in your career.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars conjunct Chiron 4H can mean you could get a fight with a family member this month.

₊˚⊹♡ Uranus 5H isn't a sign of sudden break up or bad news in the relationship -.- Something sudden can indeed happen in your love life. If the Ruler of the house is Venus, this can be a good surprise, more if Uranus conjunct, sextile, trine Venus/ Juno/ Jupiter/ POF.

₊˚⊹♡ Uranus 5H could also mean having online crushes or having a long distance relationship or crush, etc. Romance could just be online.

₊˚⊹♡ 1H Ruler in 6H means you'll take care of your health this month or just your appearance, you'll do more exercise and skincare too.

₊˚⊹♡ Stellium 11H usually means you'll spend more time online or with friends. If Chiron is involved with Moon or Mercury, you could get in a fight with a friend or online, or with an online friend!

₊˚⊹♡ Sun 6H means you will be very focused on your career this month, and also your work. You will be busy, and you could also focus a lot on your routine, health and exercise. You could also be hardworking this month and study too.

₊˚⊹♡ Ruler of 6H being Venus could indicate a glow up.

₊˚⊹♡ Sun conjunct Venus 6H means you will love your job this month! You could also be very much loved in your career field.

₊˚⊹♡ Anytime I struggled with money or had hard time to make myself some money, I had Saturn in 2H or 8H.

₊˚⊹♡ 2H or 8H ruler being in 6H means money can come from your work.

₊˚⊹♡ Libra MC means a lovely and very good reputation this month! A lot of people can love you, mostly if Jupiter or Venus conjunct/ sextile/ trines MC!

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury 6H means you'll be very much into working, thinking often of work and perhaps can be a workaholic this month. You can also study more related to your job.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury conjunct Venus in 6H or 10H means you can get a lot of compliment and praises for your work.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon in 6H means you could be very focused on work, and you could take everything happens at your work at heart. You could also be anxious because of your job, but depending of what aspects the moon, this can be more positive. You could have a desire to glow up, take more care of yourself too.

₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter 6H means a big opportunity at work could present itself! You could be quite lucky when it comes to work and make big progress! You could also lose weight more easily or having a better health this month.

₊˚⊹♡ 9H or 12H ruler being in the 6H or 10H could mean you travel for work.

₊˚⊹♡ 7H ruler being in the 6H could mean getting or signing a contract work related.

₊˚⊹♡ Stellium in 2H could mean focusing more on money.

₊˚⊹♡ Sun 1H could mean also feeling pretty or good looking. You could feel more happy this month. You could also feel like this month feels like a new start in your life.

₊˚⊹♡ 4H Ruler being in the 1H could mean you could live by yourself this month, or you could move in your own place. Or you could just end up having the house by yourself.

₊˚⊹♡ 3H Ruler in the 1H means you could talk about yourself more, or post more selfies online, you'll focus on yourself more.

₊˚⊹♡ Moon 12H means you could be quite secretive about your emotions this month, not letting it out easily and preferring to keep it for yourself. You could be more private about yourself generally. It also means you can be more intuitive this month and you could also be good at manifesting, more if it conjunct/ sextile/ trines Jupiter.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury 2H means you could learn how to manage money or you could think more about your money. You could also learn a lot about how to live a stable life. You could post often about your outfit, your make up, but also lifestyle, etc.

₊˚⊹♡ Venus 2H lol, you could love money this month! You could love your lifestyle and go shopping often too. You could buy a lot of clothing, make up, and go often to the restaurant too.

₊˚⊹♡ Ruler of 5H in 2H is a sign of your partner paying for you on dates, or just providing you generally. They could pay on dates, pay for your shopping, literally being a sugar partner lol. Otherwise, this can also mean you'll enjoy spending money, and you could treat yourself a lot this month.

₊˚⊹♡ 7H Ruler in 12H is a bit tricky. It depends what's in the 7H and 12H. Im gonna take my example. I have this placement in July, and the ruler is Jupiter. I don't think it means bad because there aren't anything bad in the 12H as aspects and placements, I just think it means having spiritual awakening because of relationships, it can also means knowing a secret about your lover, or someone you love, or an enemy! Discovering a secret enemy. My case is very specific because it's connected to some houses, so I won't talk about it too much lol. One of my best friend had 7H ruler in 12H and it was also Jupiter, and she learned some good tea about the man she loves, and she was happy discovering that secret.

₊˚⊹♡ Saturn 10H could mean you may struggle with your reputation and career this month.

₊˚⊹♡ Having Chiron and Neptune 11H means you can get hurt because of something about you online. You could also discover something that will hurt you online. Someone could also post something about you that you won't like.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars 12H means you won't really want to do a lot of things lol. You could be more lazy.

₊˚⊹♡ Neptune 7H is a sign of being crazy in love, you can be on cloud 9 lol. You could also be confused about your relationship. There might be some misunderstandings between you and your partner this month.

₊˚⊹♡ Saturn 6H could mean you could struggle with your mental health this month, and if it conjuncts 7H Ruler, it can be related to your relationships or enemies.

₊˚⊹♡ Uranus 9H is a big sign of traveling unexpectedly this month. If the Ruler of the 9H is Venus this could be traveling with a lover or someone you love very much.

₊˚⊹♡ 9H ruler in 11H means you can travel with friends, or you could travel to see a friend. You could also travel with people you know in a group. You could also travel with someone you like, and travel in a country you like the culture, or you like the community there.

₊˚⊹♡ Mercury 12H could means you could be quite shy this month, or speak a lot a foreign language.

₊˚⊹♡ 4H Ruler in 9H is a sign of moving out of your country, or traveling out of where you live.

₊˚⊹♡ 7H Ruler in 9H is a sign of traveling with your partner.

₊˚⊹♡ 4H Ruler in 7H means you can move in or live with your partner this month, you could often stay at home with them or just feel at home and safe with them.

₊˚⊹♡ Mars 7H can mean arguments can happen but some hot times too... hehe Actually if Mars 7H aspects well 8H Ruler, well you'll probably spend a lot of times being intimate this month with your partner!

₊˚⊹♡ If 9H Ruler is Mercury, it can mean you can learn a new language this month, or practice more, and even in the country itself!

₊˚⊹♡ 3H with Saturn conjunct Neptune means some miscommunications happening! Where the 3H Ruler is, is why or what about! If North Node is there too, you could need to work on it this month.

₊˚⊹♡ In my case, I have it in 3H and conjunct DSC too. It means the problem of communication can happen in the relationship and because both people don't share enough.

₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter conjunct Moon 6H is a big sign of having a better mental health this month!

₊˚⊹♡ I forgot! The 9H is not only about travel but it's also about In Laws! So having a stellium there, 7H or 5H ruler being in the 9H could be a big sign of meeting your IL.

₊˚⊹♡ So 11H Ruler in 9H could be a sign also of meeting In-Laws.

₊˚⊹♡ And if the 4H Ruler is in 9H, it can also means living at your IL's place for a while.

Thank you for reading!

back to index ; ask ; request ; rules ; instagram

[cwritesforfun]

Art Donaldson x Fem!Reader: In Love

Y/N = Your Name

*** I do not own the Challengers characters or plot or anything from the movie ***

Masterlist

Y/N’s POV

You play tennis at Stanford and it’s great. You got a full-ride scholarship to play. You study management with a focus on Human Resources as well. It’s interesting to you.

You were Tashi Duncan's designated partner for practice until she got injured. She knocked on your door one late night and told you to win it all for her since she couldn't. It was intense, but you thanked her for her words. Once Tashi got injured, you were suddenly the one everyone watched on and off the court. It was terrifying because, until this point, you didn't even know if you wanted to play professionally. This changed everything and you were determined to make everyone proud.

You're sitting in the dining hall with your chicken wrap reading when you hear, "Hey Y/N. Could I join you for lunch?" You see Art Donaldson standing there smiling with his food and you say, "Sure, Art. Please sit." He smiles at you before sitting down and says, "So uh the College Championships are this weekend, are you nervous?" You answer, "Of course, why wouldn't I be? We all thought it would be Tashi taking the win and now all eyes are on me. I want to make everyone proud. It's nerve-wracking." He replies, "But you also have to make yourself proud in the process or it's not worth it." You nod and reply, "I know, but I think this season has just been very crazy and it hasn't set in for me, I still feel like this isn't my real life. Are you excited for the Championships?" He nods and answers, "I am, but I'm nervous. I know I've been improving a lot this year, but there's always room to grow." You reply, "On your backhand for example?" His eyes widen and he asks, "Are you serious?" You answer, "Yeah... if you want, we can practice together. I could use the extra practice." He replies, "Then you're on, Y/N."

You fall into an easy conversation with Art before exchanging numbers. You both practice together and it goes really well.

On the way to the Championships, you slide into your seat on the team bus and look out the window. You hear Art ask, "Hey, is this seat taken?" You shake your head and you reply, "Please join me." Art smiles and says, "I think you'll kill it today. I hope you know that I'm proud of you. I've seen how far you've come from the beginning to get to where we are now. You've come so far and grown into an amazing player. Not that you weren't before, but uh... everyone can always improve." You laugh and reply, "Thanks, Art. You know you have really pretty eyes." His face blushes bright pink and you ask, "Omg, are you blushing? That's so cute." He replies, "I think you're really cute and pretty too, for the record." You smile.

Art cheers loudly for you when you win your first match and even more when you win the Women's College Tennis Championship. The game ended and you could not be more shocked. You ran to hug your friends including, Art. They were all so excited for you. You all celebrate at the winner's party. Art even dances with you and makes sure you eat + drink lots of water. He's so sweet.

You and Art go on your first date then you go on weekly dates... you also practice together when you can.

You graduate college and you go professional in tennis. You call Art all the time and you try to visit him at least once a month or every two months depending on both of your schedules. You're both still happy and you realize you love him. You've fallen so in love with Art and you need to tell him. You plan out a practice schedule with your Coach and you start your drive to see him.

You arrive on campus and call Tashi who tells you that Art is headed to the dining hall for lunch right now. You park off campus since it's free and you run to the dining hall. You notice Art ordering food so you slide into the booth where you two first hit it off. It quickly became your booth together every time you ate together at the dining hall last year. You watch Art turn around, do a double take, and then run with his food to the booth. He sets his food down before you stand and hug him. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and says, "Oh I've missed you so much. I can't believe you're real and here. Wait why are you here?" He pulls away and you answer, "I missed you and needed to see you. I wanted to tell you something." He asks, "What's up? Should I be worried? Usually needing to talk is bad." You answer, "No, it's not bad. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. Yeah, I love Art Donaldson. It's okay if you can't say it back yet, but I wanted you to know it." He smiles widely and exclaims, "Baby of course I love you back." You smile and you both kiss. He then asks, "Do you want something to eat? I can grab you the chicken wrap that you love from here. It will only take a minute." You nod and answer, "Pretty please, that sounds great." He kisses you on the side of the head again before going to grab you food.

You drive to Art's apartment after lunch and you show him your practice schedule. You decide to go with Art to practice tomorrow to surprise the teams. You want to see your old Coach and old team. You missed their energy and support.

As you lay in bed, Art exclaims, "I haven't been sleeping as well without you. I need your arms cuddling me to sleep." You ask, "Is that your way of asking if I want to cuddle?" He shrugs and says, "Please." You laugh and you wrap your arms around him. He rests his head next to yours and asks, "How did you know you loved me?" You answer, "Umm I've been falling in love with you the whole time we've been dating, but I realized I loved you like yesterday. I knew when you were texting me checking in with how I was and how attentive you were during our calls. I knew I needed to tell you in person because I missed you too." He replies, "I'm really glad you came to visit me. I've missed you so much. How long can you stay?" You answer, "I'm all yours for one week, baby." He smiles and you see him blushing. You ask, "When did you know you loved me?" He answers, "This is kind of embarrassing, but I've always fallen in love very fast. I started falling for you as soon as you told me that my eyes were pretty before the college championships you won." You smile and reply, "I remember that. It was so cute. I really wanted to tell you that I liked you right then, but I didn't know if would mess with our minds before the matches." He replies, "I would've dedicated the match to you and asked you out right then if you had. I really liked you after our first conversation." You reply, "I really liked you too. I thought you were into Tashi at first, which is why I also didn't say something sooner." He replies, "My Tashi phase was very short compared to my Y/N phase. I think I'll forever be in my Y/N phase." You reply, "Good to know. Good to know. I'm in my Art Donaldson forever phase too." He leans up and kisses you.

Art goes professional and graduates within the next year. You both move in together and try to attend as many matches as you can in the same tournaments. You support each other publicly and it gains a lot of attention from brands. You become a brand ambassador for a sportswear brand and a dress brand. It's very exciting for you. Life is good.

Art supports you when you quit tennis 3 years later ... when he asks why, you have to tell him that you're pregnant... he starts crying happy tears.

You start a job at a management agency and you use your time off to attend some of Art's matches. He is excited for you to be working and he treats you like a Princess anytime he's around you. You find out you're having a girl and he helps you design the bedroom.

You're both currently visiting Stanford ... Art wouldn't tell you why. It was weird. He just told you to request time off for 3 days and you both drove to Stanford. You walk into the dining hall and you see flowers on the table you both used to sit at. Art picks them up and exclaims, "Y/N, this table is where we both started liking each other and where we both said I love you for the first time. I felt it was the only place to do this... Y/N I've loved you for 5 years and I want more of them with you. With you and our future baby girl by my side, I know I can do anything. You make me feel loved and understood. You radiate such joy and positivity that I adore. I guess what I'm trying to say is..." He kneels on the ground and asks, "Y/N, will you marry me?" You feel the tears on your face and smile. He's literally perfect. You exclaim, "Yes I'll marry you, Art." You both kiss.

You get married at a courthouse on one of your free weekends because Art said he couldn't wait to be with you forever. Your family was sad but also so happy. You reassured them that you'd have a fun summer gathering with both families to celebrate.

....................

BRB...writing some for Patrick and Tashi too... maybe more Art... let me know... I can tag you, lmk that too... teehee thanks for reading

Masterlist

[satoruluvies]

Hii!!!! If ur not taking requests rn feel free to ignore this but could you write something for gojo (preferably hcs) about him with a fem reader who has powers like the scarlet witch from the mcu? And is maybe even a little stronger than him? Idk if you’re familiar with marvel but you can just search up the scarlet witch scenes on youtube and you should see videos just displaying her powers 😭 thank you !!!!!

── the strongest duo .

okay first i think gojo would have known you ever since the both of you were children because how can he not? you were the strongest, along with him. although there were speculations that you would grow to be even more stronger than him and he does not like that at all.

maybe because of that fact, he never really liked you. he was intimidated too but he would never admit that part.

so imagine how happy he was when he found out you were going to the kyoto branch instead of the tokyo one where he's going. he'll finally be free of other people trying to lump the both of you just because you both happened to possess powers far greater than others.

well that didn't last for long with the sister school games coming up. it wasn't surprising either when you were face to face with him out of all people.

but by then, gojo had grown a little. somewhere along the way he got tired of trying to be a weapon of threat, at the beck and call of the corrupted and selfish higher ups who don't know better despite their "experiences" in life.

so this time gojo decides to indulge you and take the time to really know you, instead of looking at you through a vision where he only saw you for your technique. he hadn't realised it but all he knew about you, were the things you were capable of and not actually you.

he was a victim to the very thing he hated so much. so this time, he listens.

you were a bit skeptical about his changed behaviour at first and it took a while to convince you that he really wanted to listen to you and maybe, get to know you more.

gojo realises you were similar to him in more ways than one. from that day, the animosity faded and slowly turned into friendship. no one was on par with both the strongest.

until that one fateful night where gojo came all the way to kyoto, all bloodied and gaze wary. you'd had heard of his fight with toji and that he almost almost died.

you'd never forget the way his voice quivered that night while you held him in your arms.

"maybe if you had been there, everything would have been different. you're stronger than me, maybe you could've saved riko."

you'd never seen gojo this defeated. maybe because he knows that you share the burden of being the strongest along with him, he knows you would understand him out of everyone else.

and you do, thats why even when his best friend left him, he finds comfort in your arms and the soft words from your mouth.

"you can warp people's reality right?" gojo looks up from your arms and you don't like the sentence that would come next.

"can you warp mine? just for a while. only just a little while" his bright blue eyes now shadowed behind his tears, how could you say no?

you wave your hands and slowly gojo sees his best friend and the girl he couldn't save. they were laughing and playing around, life was good. but you weren't there with them.

when you withdraw your technique, gojo realises that despite all the people he lost, he still had you and for him, that was enough. perhaps his reality isn't all that bad.

he hopes you won't leave like the rest of them. this time, he hopes you really become stronger than him just so he wouldn't feel the pain of losing you, even if that made him selfish.

its the way i had to look at wanda scenes and ask my marvel fan friends for this ahahha i haven't kept up with the mcu ever since endgame this brought back lots of nostalgic memories :')

[a-d-nox]

hello there can we please have something about human designs and how to decipher them ? Thanks

human design: the five types

i have being doing some reading on the subject so we can talk about it here and learn together!

manifestor

motor center: ego, solar plexus, root

defined: throat

undefined: sacral

keywords: rare, impulsive, self-made, powerful, energetic, powerful, driven, frustrated, influential, self-absorbed, successful, lone-wolf, impatient, mysterious, secretive, etc.

mission: more communication, less asking for permission - tell people what you are doing. this works the other way for people dealing with manifests - don't ask them, tell them.

trends in relationships: they often can't finish what they start (they need to do things when they have a burst of energy), their mind tends to move faster than their mouth does (they tend to miscommunicate/under-communicate), they don't tend to slow down for others (they end up alone because their focus is on a task instead of a team), etc. these people don't need others for growth and often find themselves alone.

how to manage a manifestor: set boundaries and let them rein free within them. trying to quiet them causes them to become angry/tense - instead let them talk/be frustrated. you don't even really have to actively listen or comment in their rants its more so letting them have the space to express their thoughts/emotions that matters.

generator

motor center: solar plexus

defined: sacral

undefined: possibly the throat

keywords: everyday, consistent, sustainability, sexually magnetic, high energy, masterful, self-aware, easily frustrated by life, quick to quit, slow and steady wins the race, morning bird, focused, yes or no answers, etc.

mission: pause; these people tend to jump the gun. it is very important they take a pause before doing something too rashly. it is likely to make them anxious, but it will be better they wait then do something and regret it.

trends in relationships: they are meant to be with others. they have to engage with others to grow. however, it is unlikely that they will make the first move in any of their relationships. they need signs of interest in order to try anything / make a move.

how to manage a generator: they shouldn't be told what to do. they should be coaxed to do a would you rather and pick the one that interests them most. make sure they are well rested and they will be just fine.

manifesting generator

motor center: solar plexus that connects to throat

defined: sacral

undefined: -

keywords: energetic, doer, getting the job done, finds the shortcut, multitasker, self-aware, angry, easily frustrated, rushes, "make it happen", impatient, lacks follow through, quick, scattered, etc.

mission: visualize. inform. respond. inform and respond are basically the combo of the manifestor and the generator missions. visualizing is the new mission here - they have to know what it is they are chasing in order to catch it.

trends in relationships: take an adventure this these people - disappear for hours at a time to spark creativity. like a generator they are not supposed to be told what to do but rather they need would you rather questions to make headway and get things done.

how to manage a manifesting generator: these people need a lot of stimulation- they are very go-go-go energied so just let them do their thing. let them do a lot physically and mentally so they can properly deplete their energy daily. they need freedom to do what they want, so do your best to not get in their way - let them experience new things don't stress over it being the wrong move. they need to learn for themselves what is good and bad for them. try to make it their idea and not solely yours.

projector

motor center: solar plexus

defined: -

undefined: sacral

keywords: manager, guide, direct, sees the bigger picture, wise, insightful, intuitive, magnetic, attractive, focused, lazy, sensitive, lacks self awareness, bitter, misunderstood, lacks work ethic, playful, etc.

mission: wait to be recognized/invited. these people often feel unheard and as though they are never really acknowledged. so it is important to wait until they have full attention before sharing - what they have to say is worthwhile.

trends in relationships: they have a hard time knowing themselves and their needs though they can often see others and know them. they don't need tons of friends but rather they just need a few great ones and a partner who has time to listen to them and be present. strange as it may sound in this generation but in a relationship, they sleep best when they have their own bed.

how to manage a projector: give them recognition - ask them to share and you will be pleasantly surprised. whatever you do, don't ignore them it just leads to them getting frustrated and saying something that will cause you to listen.

reflector

motor center: -

defined: -

undefined: all

keywords: very rare, the 1%, talkative, passionate, unique, peaceful, prosperous, highly sensitive, easily disappointed, needs consistency, struggles with grounding, clingy, "right place right time", honor, valued, value system, sympathetic/empathetic, etc.

mission: wait. they are lunar beings so it is important to wait 28 days to make sure that they are doing what they truly want. if they don't, then they are often very disappointed by the outcome. if they do wait, they should talk with others before acting.

trends in relationships: they need support and consistency. they are easily disappointed in relationships because one of these areas are lacking. it is equally important that they get alone time so they can shake off the energy they stored from others. they are sensual beings so touch is big for them - a hug goes a long way.

how to manage a reflector: they just need a good environment - somewhere stable and consistent (that goes for the people in that environment too). so value them and their boundaries and everything will be smooth.

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see more human design posts.

click here for the masterlist

© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[loserdiaz]

tagged by @wikiangela @eddiebabygirldiaz @inell @bidisasterevankinard

ive been having a lot of thoughts about girl dad buck (as im sure it was obvious from my post from earlier) and decided to dust off an old wip. <33

Eddie will admit that he’s seen a lot of crazy things while working in the E.R. People are very stupid, and some of them are shameless as well, not really the best combination when it comes to medical issues.

He’s seen people with fruit up their asses, a gun hidden inside vaginas; he’s seen people high out of their mind making a bad decision after the other— like jumping from the rooftop of an ambulance; and of course he’s also seen freaky accidents, out of the people´s control.

The point is, he’s seen a lot of shit, okay? Ranging from crazy and funny, to deeply concerning and pushing him to question why he became an E.R doctor in the first place. But he’s gotta say, this is the first time he sees a grown man walking into the emergency room wearing a dress that clearly doesn’t fit him, and that it was not made for him. Eddie thinks he might recognize it as a dress from one of those Disney princesses, but he can’t be sure.

There’s a little girl hanging from his arm and another one clinging to his leg, making it hard for him to walk. He’s wincing and clinging his free arm against his body as if his life depended on it. The sight itself is kind of hilarious, and Eddie would definitely laugh if it wasn’t for the clear pain written in the guy’s face.

“How can I help you?” Eddie asks once he makes his way to the man, already guiding him to one of their free beds with a gentle hand on his back and eyeing the little girls with uncertainty. They seem to be fine, if not a little scared for the guy they're climbing like a tree.

“Uh, I think I broke my arm,” The man blinks slowly as he places the girl holding onto his good arm on the bed in front of him and then kneels, expertly swinging the other little girl over his shoulder and placing her safely on the bed as well.

Eddie wants to tell him the bed was for him, but he's also a struggling single dad, so he gets it.

tagging (np): @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights @hoodie-buck @bigfootsmom @honestlydarkprincess @father-salmon @underwaterninja13 @devirnis @usersiren @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @shipperqueen6 @elvensorceress @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @messyhairdiaz @spaceprincessem @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @diazsdimples @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @loveyouanyway @wildlife4life @daffi-990 @rainbow-nerdss and anyone else who wants to do it!! 💗💌

[vasyandii]

I have a question.

On Vernon, with the fact that we know she's a literal sadomasocist, (I think I said that right...) I'm just curious as to why or how this may have come up. Had she always been this "messed up in the head," as to say, or did she develop her morbid curiosity from an event that changed her?

Howdy Howdy! Thank you so much for the ask!💞💞 My Laotian ocs always have some aspect on Lao culture and history. So 2 in 1, you also get a very brief history lesson!

Had Vernon always been like this?

I believe she was always like this, some people are born the way that they are, and the environment they were raised in can further encourage or discourage their behaviors. If it wasn't for the circumstances of her environment, she might've had the chance to change.

Vernon is born in 1952, A year before Laos gained its independence as a nation (before that, the French recolonized, and before THAT, the Japanese).

For the first six years of her life, Vernon was raised lucky by all means; Rich family, A loving mother and father, grandparents that doted on her, etc. she was well liked by her peers for being friendly, charismatic, and extremely intelligent.

Vernon always exhibited a certain cruelty in her play as a child. She would rip off limbs of insects and line them up, have lizards drop their tails to look at the inside of it, peel back the skin of hers/other's cuts and scrapes. Vernon's parents disciplined her of course, it's just what some kids did at the time and that was their job to fix that.

It wasn't until 1960, one year into the Lao Civil War, when she first witnessed devastation. It wasn't much, Vernon (8) didn't see anything but the rubble of homes and buildings. But there was a little urge in her that wanted to see if there was anything left in them she could keep.

She was caught digging through the rubble of a neighbor's house. Her parents, were furious. She wasn't allowed to leave their side now, they were worried sick, her behavior was subdued for the convenience of her parents.

Four years later, 1964 Americans were now dropping bombs to fight the communist uprising in Laos. A planeload of cluster bombs dropped every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day. Vernon (12) saw death, the smell of ashes, burning hair and skin, limbs strewn about. She was terrified, but fascinated. It was meat, it used to be a person but now it's nothing but flesh. She wished she could've held it for a little bit, poked it, dissect it.

Her parents were already planning to leave Laos due to the tension from the civil war over the years, but now? They had to move fast, gathering what money they had to go to Thailand and taking a boat to America. They got out within the first 4 months.

Vernon lived a relatively normal life in Sacramento. Excelling in school, having a good group of friends. It wasn't until she landed her job as an Archeologist that her behavior, subdued for years, went haywire. Her job was just an outlet for it.

If you got this far, thank you for reading :D I tend to ramble a lot so if there's anything you'd like for me to clarify feel free to tell me!

[dwcmarshalarts]

I adore your style and content - I’m considering doing masters studies of some of your pieces just to try it out, but I’m still fairly new to art. I was curious if there’s any part of your process or any particular advice you’d have?

Gave this answer before to someone who asked me the same question, and I think it still counts! 1) Build stamina. You can do this by drawing often- and with intention. Start your drawing with a warm up- something light, not overly serious. Focus more on the literal mechanical feeling of your hand moving to draw. Then focus on the heavier stuff after you’ve both literally and mentally warmed up, setting the stage for more involved drawing. Make this a routine and drawing overall will be less tiring over time.

2) Focus on replicability, not detail. This goes hand in hand with the previous point. A lot of people develop a kind of perfectionism early on, where they get overly attached to a specific sketch and don’t wanna budge from it, and put details until it “looks good,” even when the subject as a whole is wonky. I like to equate this to “too much icing, not enough cake,” or “building on sand foundations.” I’ve been there before, and it can hold you back. Instead of focusing on a specific piece and how you rendered it that one time, focus on how you render it such that you could do something similar, easily replicate the concept. Once you’ve built more stamina, you can open up the gates to tackling the same subject matter in different ways.

3) Mind your mark making. Some folks agonize over the tiniest detail, sometimes for hours. At the end of the day, that itself doesn’t necessarily bring improvement- that’s more of a test of patience. Unless someone specifically asks, you don’t- for example- need to draw every single ridge of every knob on a switchboard in great detail. These things can be implied through mark making. Remember, a lot of drawing isn’t about literally making something for people to see- it’s tricking the eye into believing what’s drawn is actually there. You’ll be amazed at what detail can be like even when you don’t define every part.

4) Drawing is more seeing than “making it up.” * Don’t be afraid to use references and such. It’ll help you render form than imagining it- sometimes the imagination can conjure things incorrectly. *Even seasoned artists who don’t typically use too much references need to do studies from life or books every now and then to reinforce skills.

One point I didn't add before for style things specifically is: 5) Look where the artist got their inspirations from if you want to learn from them. No art exists within a vaccuum, everyone has their influences. Trying to do a study from someone's art will only take you so far- because then it'll feel more like mimicry than actual, learned study. Research or try to see parallels with artists that you might think had a hand in influencing a given artist's style. Notice the patterns there- certain textures are invoked here, this form was defined like this, etc. A lot of folks confuse wanting "more of a thing" as opposed to "what makes that thing desirable/unique." If you'd like to know where some of my influences come from, I'd say look at the works of Squiddy, covers for Hellboy comics, and the Snowpiercer graphic novel.

Addendum: If you're looking to draw anatomy specifically- study from real anatomy, and learn how to do those before you begin to "break the rules" (exaggerate, anthropomorphize, etc). For resources on that, I'd recommend the Morpho books (all of them haha) and Dynamic Human Anatomy by Roberto Osti.

Hope this helps somewhat, feel free to ask if I missed anything.

[wexhappyxfew]

oh goodness, what about soft john and annie with "it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break." ?

AH HELLO!!!!! first of all; a massive thank you for sending this prompt in and for stopping by the askbox!!! it is so greatly appreciated in my lil corner of the world. and second - SOFT JOHN AND ANNIE!!!! coming *right* up! this was such a good prompt for them and i immediately saw it and was like - i need to do this Right. Now. and here we are! sincerest thank you's for this! please enjoy! <3

cold hands

(a/n): annie x brady girlies i am in shambles over this please know. a whole lot of annie's internal monologue and how greatly she is affected by her traumatizing youth - and her struggle to break free from that. and brady is a part of that healing process <3 annie bradshaw you will always be famous girl - never change! :D

Seeing him sat there, head bowed, body completely frozen had to be one of the worst feelings she had experienced in a long time.

And she'd grown up with a mother who hardly had wanted a thing to do with her, much less take care of the children that were in her care.

A part of Annie saw him as a little boy for the first time, in a way. Knowing that behind this strong facade of an Air Force Captain, who had flown B-17s all over Europe, over Germany, down to Africa, training his heart out, there was still that little boy who lived inside of him.

Annie stood in the doorway of the empty bunk room, entirely unsure of her next moves.

She was her own command pilot, a Lieutenant!

She'd gone through hell and back in her youth, gone through training where she was viewed as nothing more than the bottom of the barrel, fighting her way to both be respected and viewed as a pilot in the Air Force, and equally gone through constant doubt, grief and dismissal because of the fact she was a woman. She'd gone through multiple ranges of situations she'd been lost and confused in; but she'd found a way. She had commanded Silver Bullets on nearly 20 missions, risking her life day in and day out, she'd shown herself in every possible light and proven herself time and time again.

Yet, in this moment, she had no idea what to do.

She was usually great at this; dealing with her little siblings, answering their questions as to why Mommy was in bed again, or where Dad was, or why they didn't have anything for breakfast - yeah, that'd been easy, she'd gotten good at it.

Enough to convince herself that it almost wasn't true (even though it was).

This though? She couldn't stop standing there and looking at him and seeing nothing but that young boy.

Annie took a tentative step forward and it didn't take him even less than a second to look up from the ground and towards her, his hardened gaze immediately growing gentle at the sight of her there in the threshold, his white knuckles releasing the built-up tension that had been there previously.

She didn't miss the reddening hand-mark on his cheek or the bruising underneath his eye - something Bucky had warned her about before going in - she did miss him though.

Even if he was right there in front of her, she'd miss him. Those weeks apart, knowing he was here and she was back in Thorpe Abbotts - that had been enough for her heart to pull into two.

"Hey," she said, her voice quiet, immediately splitting the silence in the room into two, as a small smile darted onto her face, "was looking for you." Brady watched her, his eyes, which had turned soft and delicate like they always did when watching her, darted across her face, as if searching for a hidden wound he couldn't uncover. The corners of his lips rose upwards the slightest bit, the smile tight of his face as he sat up a bit straighter. He was always sitting up straighter, putting on the brave face, trying to do things for her instead of himself.

"Everyone's outside." she said when he didn't say anything - which, admittedly, had made her heart hurt a bit, "The sun came out. It may be gone before you know it." Annie watched Brady's face; she was getting to the point of noticing even the most minute of details about his facial expressions, down to the shifting of his eyes, the way his eyebrow would twitch, even when the corner of his mouth darted upwards or downwards depending on the mood.

She remembered when she was younger and her parents would get into a fight - Annie, at the peak age of 13 - would be shuffling her siblings off to bed, her older brother, Roy, still at work, playing peacemaker with fire and water. She could get to the point when she knew a fight would start - her mother's lip twitch, the blank look in her eye that slowly shifted to despair and guilt. Her father half alive on his feet, yelling about the bills and the house and that damn leaky faucet. She could picture those faces in her mind. Even sensing the slightest change in someone's face made her go into fight-or-flight; she was trying to get better at it.

"Annie." She blinked. Shifting her gaze towards Brady, he was slowly standing to his feet from the bunk, his tall frame coming towards her as he gently placed his hands on her arms, getting a good look at her face as if she was under a light.

"You okay?" he asked her, that worrying look immediately crossing his face like it always did. Annie looked up at him and nodded quickly.

"I should be asking you that," she said softly back to him, the corner of her lip perking upwards again in an attempt at a smile, "are you okay?" Brady watched her and nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "just needed a minute to sit, ya know?" She watched him. "Keep my mind thinking, things like that." Annie quirked out a grin at him.

"Whatcha thinking about?" she asked him, her voice lighthearted as she gazed up at him with that softened gaze even she knew she used on him when it was just them, alone. That got Brady grinning wide, his usual smile a natural comfort to her at this point.

"C'mon, you can tell me," Annie said softly, leaning towards him, tilting her chin upwards with a smile, "I'm being serious."

"Just��.things," he said, incredibly nonchalantly and off-handedly, catching her gaze and grinning slightly, "why are you still giving me that look?" Annie smiled at him, relishing the closeness of him, the feel of his hands on her arms, that look in his eyes, him simply there, staring right back at her.

Moments like this she reveled in and drank up. Because in her life, no one had ever taken the time to care for someone like her in a situation like this. She had always worried about the kids, her parents (despite their blunders) and especially Roy who had worked himself nearly to death for the Bradshaws. Now, someone was stood here, caring for her.

She couldn't help but wonder what went on in their brain.

"How'd you get that?" Annie asked him quietly, nodding to his slightly bruising cheek, the faint redness following. She watched him expectantly and held his gaze as he watched her back.

"I talked back. To the Germans, I don't know....I shouldn't have." Brady said quietly, "I hear the way they talk sometimes, Annie. Just….couldn't keep it in this go-round." Annie watched him, before slowly bringing her hand towards his cheek before hesitating. Brady smiled shakily.

"It's okay," he said with a hint of a smile, "you can touch me." He grinned wider, more genuinely. "I won't break." Annie softly encapsulated his bruising cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing against the fragile reddening skin on his cheek and met his gaze again.

"I could try and get you some ice," Annie said quietly, her mind spinning to get an idea going in her head, "or….I don't know, freeze water or something. It's cold as hell here anyway." Brady chuckled at her words and melted a bit more into her touch.

"I'd be fine just like this," he told her with another smile, "are your hands always this cold?" Annie let out a small laugh at his words and brought her other hand up to hold his other cheek, her thumbs brushing against his slightly stubbled cheeks, her touch evidently one of comfort for the both of them.

This.

Whatever this was between them. Holding each other like this, looking at each other like this, being this close without any sort of expectation or explanation.

"Considering how cold it has been outside," Annie started softly, "I wouldn't be too surprised. I did grow up where we were constantly snowed-in in the winter."

"That doesn't mean you need to have cold hands," Brady said softly, bringing his own hands up from her arms and layering his own hands over her own, grasping gently around her wrists and dancing his fingers over her exposed skin, peaking out past the cuffs on her coat, "this'll heal up in no time." Annie gave him a look.

"I'm getting you ice still," Annie said quietly, tilting her head to the side, the feel of his, admittedly, very warm hands, over her own, making her body ache for every part of him in more ways than one - along with the need to take care of him, "no ifs, ands, or buts about it, got it?" She caught that look on his face that told her that he was about to brush himself off again.

"I see that look."

"What?" Brady said with a small smile, as she tapped her thumbs lightly against his cheeks again, "You're reminding me a lot of my mom right now, Annie." Annie watched him, with a smile that warmed up her entire being.

"I had enough little siblings to take care of," Annie said, watching him with an almost more sorrowful look in her eyes than intended, "I guess taking care of others is what I do best." Brady's smile fell the slightest bit, and the room seem to turn into both a stale-air and stilled environment.

"You're the best at a lot of things you do, An, you know that." Brady said - his questioning sounding more like an adamant statement.

And this is why John Brady meant more to her than most - he seemed to notice those moments that she fell back on herself or undermined whatever accomplishments or bettering for herself that she might get.

He always reminded her of who she was.

"A damn good pilot, you could give me a run for my money any day," Brady said with a small, light-hearted chuckle, his fingers still dancing over her exposed wrists, over the few scars that were still there and scabbing, "and you know how to make the perfect cup of coffee." Annie let out a laugh she couldn't hold back. "It's true!"

"You just want a good cup of coffee, huh?"

"Annie." Brady said, almost adoringly as he watched her, his hands still on her wrists and cold hands, "I'll take the ice."

"Good!" Annie exclaimed with an uncontrollable grin on her cheeks, before standing to her tiptoes and bringing Brady's head to her lips, a soft kiss pressed to his forehead, something so damn maternal that she wasn't sure if she was even in her right mind, "I'll go get one of those metal tins. Fill it up." She looked at him with a smile. "And we'll get you healing up with that ice pack." Brady watched her with a slightly halted and dazed look in his eyes, gazing at her like she was a shining light.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"You don't have to butter up to me, John," Annie said, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks again in a soothing manner, "I'd do it either way." She grinned. Brady watched her and grasped her hands tighter this time; firmer, more confidently.

"Really though, An," he said softly, "you're really amazing." Annie watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his, trying to figure out a way to respond to his words without sounding like a complete, wordless idiot.

Because standing there, she wanted to tell him the same thing right back.

Even more so.

He was beyond amazing - if there was even a word to describe someone like him that was beyond words a dictionary could provide.

"You're pretty amazing yourself, John," she whispered back, a tiny voice in her head telling her to accept his words, "thank you." He smiled at her. Beyond amazing, she thought in her head, way beyond anything her mind could conjure.

[blatantlynotokay]

Being An @na Mom

I feel like having Anna has not changed me much as a mom. Many a therapist and mutuals have always been worried about how my @na affects my children.

Yes I keep snacks in the house (see photo) my children have their own access to the snacks and are able to get snacks at anytime with the day they wish to. Majority of the snacks are organic or relatively healthy such as chips, organic fruit bars, and organic applesauce pouches. As for their meals, I typically hand make all of their meals. Breakfast can look like pancakes and eggs or maybe turkey bacon and oatmeal. Lunch can be a homemade non-processed peanut butter and homemade jelly sandwich. And typically for dinner we have some sort of chicken and veggies or fish and veggies. Dinner is usually the only meal that I eat the food with, but I don’t think they’ve ever thought that was strange that mommy doesn’t eat exactly what they eat because they never really eat the same thing anyways. I know this can seem like a lot that I make three different dishes for every meal But I never really find it tedious and everything’s quite easy to make.

I tried to make sure that my children have a very healthy relationship with food. I never try to restrict in anyway, shape or form. Some days they want fast food or pizza for dinner and I never really tell them no unless we’ve had that the day before. I still let them. Typically, I do not eat what they eat for dinner. I will just make something else and I don’t think that they’ve ever thought that it was weird or strange that mommy doesn’t eat pizza or McDonald with them. They’ve always just accepted that that’s how things are. And my oldest knows that I have various health concerns and can’t eat typical foods. I have a gluten intolerance and pcos. Which, even if I wasn’t, Anna would stop me from eating certain foods.

I tried to create a different environment then what I grew up. My entire life my parents had always been obese. Not just slightly overweight, but medically considered obese. it was always so interesting though because my parents would never let me eat snacks or sugary cereal and essentially we had an ingredient household. my parents were never home once I started elementary school. They would often tell me to feed myself, but in an ingredient household as a five-year-old I would typically just end up eating a slice of bread. They wouldn’t come home for dinner often so I would end up eating very little throughout the day. They never packed my lunch or gave me money for lunch so I typically never ate at school (this was a time before school had free lunch). Not eating was just a normal thing for me in my childhood so I always try to make sure that my children always have access to food and are well cared for.

Another angle that people often attack me from is if I would become like Mrs. Hadid and her handful of almond. And personally, I don’t think that I ever would. I know that children will eat exactly how much they need to eat in order to fuel their body. I try to teach them healthy eating habits, such as if they’re bored to lean towards fruit or vegetable over processed food. While they are still very young 6 & 3 I don’t see myself changing this mindset. I grew up starving I know what it’s like to starve. I know what it’s like to cry yourself to sleep because your stomach hurts so bad. I never want that for my children. I honestly never want that for any of you reading this. But here we are.

I’m always pro recovery. Block don’t report

[indefinitely-sealed]

Greetings, greetings! At the behest of my two very very good friends @cosmogone-spectacles and @peliginspeaks I have finally made my own sideblog for Flondon :) Do keep in mind I will likely be doing a lot of character work, for the most part, simply because I have been sitting on a lot of them for a long time now and I am simply too fond of them hehe.

My main account is @luckybird7765 and you can see my main Fallen London account here. Feel free to send a calling card!

Character introductions beneath the cut -

Primary Skills: Watchful; Monstrous Anatomy / Artisan of the Red Sciences / Disco̷̱̭͂̊̔̔͂̾̈͜ŗ̶͔̳̤̎͛̐̍̊̓̀̾̅ḑ̷̝̘̹͚͔̝̼̜̳͔̺͉̹͋̓̏͆͠a̷͈̹̟̘̥͈͙̠̞̫̪͘ņ̵̧̢̥͈̞̼̮̭̺̳̹̜̘̀̐͗̃̉̄͂̎́̆̉̇̕͝͝c̴͔̣̜̫̭̠̿͒̇è̸̢̓̿̽

Captain Reginald 'Ren' Haarsink, 36 (though who can say when the year never marches forward), a longtime academic in the corresponding arts (specifically speaking, the interactions between correspondence and forms of zee life, but he has branched into its medical uses too) is one of those stranger looking fellows, more eagerly described as a 'creature' by most not used to the Neath's wilder denizens. He cannot help but be immediately identifiable by the fins that he has (and, if you look even closer, gills as well!) in place of ears, and the scattering of scales upon his skin. No drownie is he, he still appears hale and hearty as much as someone who lives in the Neath can be, but he doesn't really take kindly to the nosy questionings by London newcomers. They were attained in an accident at zee, nothing more.

Haarsink is generally quite a private individual, though he has a well established presence in the academic circles of the reality-altering labs at Benthic University, curiously absent presence in the Benthic University correspondence division despite being apparently quite accomplished credentials that nobody can verify. He is a near life-long Neath resident, having moved to London when he was around 5 years old with his mother, who had had him out of wedlock with a vagrant sailor and needed the freedom that a life in the Neath offered. As such, he is very rarely surprised anymore by what this world has to offer, though he has a very long list of things to dread and fear at his disposal.

He doesn't make friends easy, and doesn't exactly have much of a presence beyond his work in the laboratory that he does not own̶ ̴d̷o̵e̸s̶ ̷n̸o̵t̵ ̶o̷w̴n̵ ̷d̷n̵͎̞͌̈́̀ ̵͕͌͆d̶͕̎̕ǫ̵͖̈e̵̬̘̯̓͒s̷̬̗̹͐͛͑ ̷̳̝̕͝ņ̴͓̅͘͜o̷̤̿͊͂t̵͔̔ ̷̞͈͐ẁ̴͈̺̇̚n̷̩͕͛̑ ̸̳͕̈́̂͛d̴̼̓.

To those who know him, he has a loyalty far too fierce for mere words, and a streak of caring that goes beyond what any sane person would want. He also has the focus and stamina to push to get what he wants with his own two hands, no matter what.

He has committed crimes against reality itself. Parabola as a whole hates his guts (inasmuch as it can, it tries) for what he has done to it, leaving him with no Parabola-altered dreams, no reflection in a mirror that is not of him burning to death. The Dawn Machine would blast him to ash if it were able to reach him. His own lungs have twisted themselves inside out and stretched his throat in unlawful geometries for the blasphemies he has spoken with them.

He dreamed once that he could become a god in his own right. The worst part is that he nearly succeeded.

He is also my silly fish and my soggiest little meow meow. He lives in a big snail shell by the zee and his favorite food is ship biscuits. He absolutely refuses to wear a shirt unless strictly required (though whether that is because he hates the texture or if he is simply THAT proud of his chest tattoo is anyone's guess). He can contain multitudes, after all.

Not on speaking terms with one D. T. Oversol (@cosmogone-spectacles) , owing to some previously mentioned crimes against reality having been inflicted directly upon himself. Would be friendly with one Dola Hallowrove (@peliginspeaks), except the other crimes against reality were inflicted upon them as well, and that could get a little awkward to discuss.

(anyways. god knows i have far too much stuff on him at this point, it's actually quite a relief to be sharing it somewhere at last <3 )

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Are you still active on tumblr?

YES I am!! Sorry friends for dropping off the face of the earth, I got a job and I had to move and it was a lot. But I am less stressed now and I hope I can get back to posting more regularly!! I really missed it (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

I will never leave tumblr because there is no other place on the internet where I can tell people that 80% of the time when I try to introduce myself to someone in the office that I haven’t met yet I get so focused on smiling and holding eye contact that I forget the part where I actually have to introduce myself (°□°)

[samarecharm]

Love being able to write. I can do whatever i want. I can make Ryuji interact w Lala-chan and u literally cant stop me.

[lornasaurusrex]

I miss you Lorna… this is such a mess

This is an old message and I had several other similar messages, but I miss you guys and hope you’re all doing well!! I’m sorry to see nothing has improved.

I saw I was kindly mentioned by @awesomefringey and some other commenters the other day, so just wanted to log in and say hello and log back out for a few more months. 💕

Sending so so much love to all of you. Take care of yourselves and each other, please.

The video is still on YT.

[cienie-isengardu]

Quan Chi's bio states he was basically born to be a slave in the mines. With Shang it's at least debatable whether he 'chose' to be poor of it he was just unlucky but I don't think Quan Chi chose to be enslaved since he was a child and mined minerals for OutWorld's government.

This seems awfully deliberate, like how Liu Kang had a hand in Smoke's family dying as a way for him to join the Lin Kuei. Like Liu Kang gave Mileena the life most iterations would kill for and whilst he did cripple Shao, Shao got the better deal compared to Quan and Shang.

I don't think there's a really good way to justify that one. It feels like Liu is punishing an incarnation of Quan Chi for something he didn't even do. Unless someone wants to make the assumption that Quan Chi was born evil...which doesn't make any sense since we literally see a good version of him and Shang fighting against Titan Shang Tsung.

Even if he was born evil, erasing him probably would've been preferable than subjecting him to slavery given how slaves are treated.

Last time I checked mortalkombat.com there was no official BIO for Quan Chi so I can’t address something I did not read yet by myself - not that I don’t believe your word, I just like be familiar with officially released source material and context before I start throwing the stones at any characters, especially since MK1 already proved with Shang Tsung that BIO, story mode and intros may approach differently character’s origin.

That said, I don’t have a doubt that Liu Kang is biased when it comes to certain people as it is visible in story mode alone how he interacts with the Royal Family or his Champions he considered his friends and for example Lin Kuei serving him and Earthrealm from centuries. He on purpose get involved with characters lives, be it choosing Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao and Raiden for Earthrealm’s Champions or deciding that Shang Tsung and Quan Chi won’t get a chance to obtain any power (magic) however the same story mode proved that Liu Kang’s plans could be - and in fact were - foiled by actions of others. Shang Tsung and Quan Chi learned magic due to Titan Shang Tsung’s scheming, Kenshi lost his eyesight again, despite Liu Kang’s hope for different means for his bonding with Sento

so it is not like every character’s life is set in stone and the once made Keeper of Time’s decisions won’t change due to outside forces.

My main problem with accusation that Liu Kang intended Quan Chi to be born in slavery or Shang Tsung in poverty is the implication he intended slavery and poverty to be part of his new era in the first place - and with that he chose to doom billions beings to unimaginable hardship solely to punish two people he personally dislike for things done in previous timeline steered by Titan Kronika who cared only for balance between good and bad, not for the living beings who were her own creations. 

Because Shang Tsung is not the only character we could see living in miserable conditions, as the Edenians infected with Tarkat sickness lived in literal poverty, banished and shunned by society, with little food or basic goods to survive on their own. Quan Chi may be a slave working in mines, but we have the whole Umgadi system that literally takes away freedom from the first-born daughters of edenian families, who from childhood are trained and indoctrinated to put Royal Family’s best interest before anyone and anything, because apparently the monarch is more important that the lives of common people. 

If we agree that Liu Kang in fact decided to include slavery and poverty in his new timeline just to punish two people, following that logic we should also assume that by making Johnny the USA’s famous movie star (with all the references to Hollywood and pop culture we know from previous timelines and our own word), he also allowed history to repeat itself with the European colonization of Americas and coming with it irreversible destruction of native cultures followed by unjust and cruel treatment of the indigenous population and ever further consequence: the Atlantic slave trade and the racial segregation that was part of America’s history preceding the official independence of USA (and racism being part of its history for another ages). All just to put Johnny in comfortable life as close to what his friend had in previous timeline.

What frankly, does not sit well with me knowing what kind of person Liu Kang was once and is currently as Earthrealm Protector. He was not a flawless human and definitely he is not the flawless and all-knowing god now - he doesn’t pretend to be one either. And sure, some of his decisions led to bigger tragedies but the fact he stepped down from Keeper of Time’s position to be just a mere Earthrealm’s deity implies he truly wished to allow people make their own choices. Because as Keeper of Time he could manipulate time and events to his own liking at any given time, but as a mere deity he is forced to play alongside the unfolding events and mortals choices - he may guide people, he may punish those disturbing the established peace, but he does not fulfill characters’ wishes or demand to erase the problems of their world because he did not give himself such power, as intro dialogues suggest is the case:

Li Mei: Why permit crime to fester in this timeline? Geras: It was beyond Liu Kang's power to prevent it. 

or

Liu Kang: It is beyond my power to prevent all injustice. Li Mei: Then it shall always fester. 

or

Scorpion: As Time’s Keeper, you could have abolished kombat. Liu Kang: Even a Titan’s power has limits.

or

Kenshi: With Liu Kang's help, maybe they'll find a cure. Baraka: If he could've helped, he would have done so by now. 

or

Baraka: If you're a god, then cure me. Liu Kang: I did not give myself that power.

or

Baraka: Tarkat is a cruel fate, Geras. Geras: As Liu Kang has told you, we cannot cure it. 

My point is: when a god gives mortals a free will then he must also accept that people will choose the wrong, even outright evil things. Not because anyone is born inherently good or bad, but because things like greed, pettines, fear, curiosity, ignorance or love exist and emotions are as strong an impulse, if not stronger, as is common sense. 

As much as I would really like if Liu Kang gave everyone the same, fair chance for a good life, I think we need to take into account that each character's life does not exist in a vacuum and was preceded by hundreds of lives and choices of other people that lead to this point in time. Choices that could get in the Keeper of Time’s way and push events in different paths that he intended. Like Smoke’s family - did he truly decide to kill them to get Tomas into Lin Kuei as the best way of action or did the Lin Kuei warriors, who found outsiders on the protected by them territory, acted too aggressively on their own and their choices lead to unplanned tragedy? Or Shao’s sickness - was it Liu Kang’s choice to prevent the possibility he will raise one day against Sindel but the plan was foiled by one stubborn father who wouldn’t accept his child’s sickness as it was or the iron discipline of father was a part of the plan from the start? My point is, it is hard to tell where Keeper of Time’s will ends and where start the will of mortals that make each day their own choices, for good or bad. 

Sindel is the best example, as Liu Kang intended her to rule Edenia as a firm yet fair queen and for all we know she indeed is one compared to the previous rulers. Yet what we learn from story mode and intro dialogues put a great shadow of doubt on whether she was truly so great Queen, if the sick Edenians are banished and forced to live in poverty, as their assets were taken according to Sindel's own edict, and in general treated like unwanted trashes. Not only that - Li Mei's intro dialogues says that Outworld has organized crime and Sun Do's beauty hides its darker side as it is far from the peaceful city Earthrealms think it is. Since people often are pushed into crimes by the bad circumstances (poverty, seeking refuge from persecutors) rather than inherent evil, should we accuse Liu Kang he planned such misery for those mortals or we accept that Sindel - generally seen as a good person, even admired by vast number of characters, including Liu Kang himself - made a choices that in fact have endangered or literally destroyed hundreds of innocent lives for ages? The Royal Family got rich off the harm of others, its power was secured by people deprived of their own civil freedom (Umgadi, the Palace Guard). Who should we blame for that? Liu Kang who destined Sindel to be Queen or Sindel herself, who had a power and free will to decide?

Like I said, no one lives in a vacuum and there were countless numbers of mortals before our main heroes were even born. Kenshi is dealing with his ancestors’ desperate choice to join Yakuza for protection and born out of it shame and crimes; their choices affect who he is and what drives him. Bi-Han is affected by his father’s decision and decisions of Lin Kuei Grandmasters before him that shaped reality in which Bi-Han lives now and considers an enslavement, because someone in the centuries old past chose to pledge their clan to serve Earthrealm and by extension, Fire Lord. Did Liu Kang intend such a turn of events or is it an effect of countless choices made by mortals preceding Bi-Han and Kenshi existence?

And so we come back to Quan Chi and the question, did Liu Kang decide to introduce slavery to his new timeline solely so Quan Chi could end in one or did mortals (Edenian aristocracy/government) at some point make the choice to enslave other living beings, including Quan Chi’s family, for their own gain? Because for Quan Chi to be born in slavery it means:

his parents or at least mother - and that alone may implies Quan Chi's being a result or rape - would need be a slave in the first place and

mother was punished for her son’s crimes he did not commit - and if Liu Kang’s plan had succeeded, he would never have committed either.

We can go on with questions like that but I think it comes down to this one matter: do we believe that Liu Kang would intentionally damn a billions of innocents to either punish Shang Tsung and Quan Chi or secure the well-being of his favorites like Royal Family and Johnny or not.

The game and intro dialogues won't give us a definite answer to that and each of us will need to settle this dilemma for themselves. I myself still debate whether to believe or not that Liu Kang sat down eons ago and wrote out how numberless generations will live so a few certain characters end in miserable (Shang Tsung & Quan Chi) or happy setting (Sindel). I do however believe that within Liu Kang's timeline, the Keeper of Time's choices shaping people's destiny and free will of characters can and are co-existing. I won't cross out yet the possibility that Liu Kang indeed decided to include slavery just to fuck up Shang Tsung and Quan Chi's lives - and I won't do it at least until I read the new source material.  However, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that slavery and poverty are the outcome of bad choices made by mortals living before the heroes and villains were born.

Of course, this is still not the best scenario and there is no denying Liu Kang wanted a meaningless life for both sorcerers and that he did interfere with events and destinies of mortals. But if he set all life in motion and then immediately step down from Keeper of Time’s position, we need take into account that A) he gave up control over people voluntarily and B) he did it eons before Shang Tsung or Quan Chi - and their families - came to alive and for such a long period of time, many bad things could have happened without his participation or ill will (is Tarkat even part of Liu Kang’s plan or did it happen spontaneously, as a result of the actions of unforeseen forces? As the “forces of nature” balancing things out?). The characters already asked Liu Kang why he did not prevent injustice, why he did not abolish violence, why he did not cure the horrific illness, why he did not make his timeline the better place… but I think to do so he would need to take away the free will, so no mortal could commit a crime again or go against his plan. Which is the total opposition of what he wanted and Liu Kang is aware his world did not improved as he hoped:

Liu Kang: This timeline has not improved as I had hoped. Geras: Thoughts like that led to Kronika’s madness. 

But I guess that is the problem with free will, it allows bad things to happen. There is no win-win scenario and someone will always be harmed - if not by their own choice, then by someone else's, because people do not live in a vacuum.

So, unless Quan Chi’s Bio (that I still didn’t see for myself) outright says Liu Kang decided to made his former enemy born as a slave, I’m willing to give Liu Kang the benefit of doubt that slavery and poverty weren’t on purpose added to his new era just to fuck up two people he didn’t like - even if his dislike is well-understandly considering everything that happened. 

It is easy to look at MK1’s story mode and blame Liu Kang for the characters' background but that is looking at this specific point of time the way we look at NRS and blame them for messing up our favorite heroes for drama’s sake alone. In-universe though? There are plenty of factors outside Liu Kang’s control that shaped the world before any of them came into picture. Like I said, it may not be so easy to determine how much for things to be the way they are now is the fault of god and how much of mortals alone.

Also, in regard to why not just erase them from the timeline, I too myself wondered about that. Or why not make them born in Earthrealm, whereas as mere humans they would pose a threat for a 100, maybe 120 years at best and then be safely tucked in the afterlife. Or why let them both live at the same time and not separate them by ages. My working conclusion for now is that erasing people is not such an easy matter, as people - their histories and relationships - are too well connected threads on time fabric. MK11’s Jacqui ending showed that changing one thing may lead to much more serious consequences. She wanted to spare her father from death at Sindel’s hand and following it the life of revenant. But when she removed that event from his history, in result she erased her own existence, as Jax did not meet Jacqui's mom and thus Jacqui wasn't born. Original Shang Tsung and Quan Chi brought more pain and despair to people than anything else, but since we don’t have an idea how time fabric works or how much it is influenced by the countless erased timelines, maybe Liu Kang couldn’t erase them without erasing more innocent and/or important people? Just a thought to think about.