#it's canon I'm sorry I don't make the rules

[wonderfultheatre]

A pet peeve I have...

A pet peeve i have that's purely just something that happened a lot in the last year while being in a server.

Don't let your character hate bias rule how you interact with someone else's muse. Not only is it usually blatantly obvious it makes it not fun to interact with you, especially if we know that each time you interact you're going to get super aggro at our character for no reason.

Like sorry just because YOU hate Valentino, doesn't mean your muse is aware of what he does behind the scenes and closed doors. The instant aggro is annoying as fuck. It makes writing with some people insufferable.

Like it's one thing to react to what a character does IN CHARACTER, but if I'm chillin' and you attack my muse, I ain't fuckin' wit you. ESPECIALLY by all means if my muse has no idea who yours is and or your muse is an oc.

It's annoooooying. It also like often times proves to me you didn't read someones rules or character bio because often times if someone hasn't explicitly stated canon compliance, they're canon divergent and as someone who writes canon divergent muses for fun because I have lots of ideas for certain character personality types or dynamics I think would be fun.

It's annoying to get your muse just suddenly hating on my muse who wouldn't by any means apply to canon or even know who your muse is.

Like my Angel Valentino got an odd amount of hate even though none of the canon events occurred (because there aint no way his ass getting redeemed otherwise), even sometimes the OOC response has me like "Bruh"

Respectfully don't interact if you can't read anything I took the time of making for you to reference if we are to write together.

[galactica7071]

let's diagnose the Irish guy from punch-out

disclaimer: I am but a lass with ADD, so while I do know a lot from both my own experiences and research, you should still take my ramblings with a few grains of salt. I encourage anyone reading to form their own headcanons, and would love to hear them!

So, the Punch-Out wiki (in its current state) implies that Aran Ryan has some sort of mental disorder, so I projected onto dissected him like a deep sea specimen, and may have found out what's going on in his very empty and screwed up head

🎉congrats! it's attention deficit hyperactivity disorder! (probably)🎉

ADHD has a bunch of characteristics that go with it, but I'll only be going over the ones that apply to Aran and are displayed in canon. Of course, I'll insert some speculation here and there to further support and reason through some of my points. For more reading, I suggest checking out organizations like Mayo Clinic and the National Institute of Mental Health, as well as any self-reports and blogs by people with ADHD (the latter tends to be more personal and far less clinical-sounding, but are just as helpful). Wikipedia is also a good place to go for anything, and you might even find yourself down a few rabbit holes!

Hyperactivity and restlessness

Aran exhibits this in PO Wii heavily. He has a high-stamina fighting style with lots of shuffling around, always bouncing around Little Mac. He can only be stunned through counter-punches and being faster than him (During round breaks, Doc Louis literally says "beat Aran Ryan to the punch"). It is extremely difficult to KO or TKO Aran without intercepting him due to this mechanic. During round breaks, regardless of how beaten and bruised he is, Aran will bounce his leg constantly in Contender and harass the audience in Title Defense.

Impulsivity and recklessness

This one's consistent between his two appearances, surprisingly. In Wii, Aran is portrayed as a dirty cheater who would "do anything to win", according to supplementary comics. He has the most rule infractions in the Punch-Out series, at 32 combined. He stuffs his gloves with horseshoes before his Contender fight and brings a homemade flail made from a broken boxing glove to his bout with Little Mac in Title Defense. During matches, he makes use of headbutts and elbows quite frequently. These are both illegal and very stupid moves, due to the potential of self-inflicted trauma. His flail in Title Defense could be a sign of creativity by thinking outside the box, which is often seen in people with ADHD. In supplementary material for Super Punch-Out!!, it's implied that a fight usually broke out whenever Aran was made fun of in school, showing that he was reckless during his childhood as well.

Emotional dysregulation

In Super Punch-Out!!, Aran Ryan is rather grumpy, and is one of two characters in the entire game to never smile in any of his sprites (the other being Nick Bruiser). Compared to his Wii portrayal, Aran is as clean as it gets in this game, even complimenting the player during the credits. Supplementary material attributes his lower mood to the teasing he endured during his childhood, and that he got into boxing to channel some of his pent-up anger. Depending on how you view it, him being so angry over his peers making fun of his name could be an overblown reaction. This hot-headedness is retained in PO Wii (which could be a sign of impulsivity), but he's essentially the inverse of how he was in Super. He's boisterous, reckless, dishonest, and smiles even while he's stunned. Many of Aran's reactions to being hit are him laughing, which might imply masochism on some level, but is nonetheless seen as an inappropriate response to being hit. He displays some antisocial traits, even, as seen when he throws aside the referee in Title Defense. This is likely caused by a low tolerance of authority, but is still an extreme reaction to the referee just trying to maintain order in the ring (good luck with that, ref...).

Difficulty starting tasks

This is a sign of executive dysfunction, which is closely linked to inattention in people with ADHD. It's exhibited in his Contender intro, where he spends the first three frames of the cutscene messing around. For this one, I'm going to compare Aran's behavior in his Contender intro to all the other boxers that spend their entire intro cutscene in a gym/dojo/training environment, spend the majority of their cutscene explicitly training, or are in several training environments. Here's a neat little chart, where the numbers represent how many slides they spent being "off-task":

can you tell that graphic design is my passion

I've counted any activity that builds strength and endurance (like eating, running, lifting, or practicing magic in Tiger's case), or requires a large amount of work put in to do (like chopping trees or playing hockey, for Bear Hugger). Some of you might be wondering why I didn't include certain characters, but that's because they're either in a combat setting, switch from training to non-training settings, or are doing unrelated things in what could be a training setting.

If Aran has 3 instances of being off-task, he ties with TD Kaiser, Don, and Macho in terms of how long they're off-task for. If "gearing up" is being counted as being on-task, he only ties with TD Kaiser and himself. Of course, context matters heavily. TD Kaiser, Don, and Macho aren't off-task purely for the sake of slacking off, but show developments of their story throughout Career Mode. TD Aran is off-task for storytelling as well, but it's not motivated by a grudge towards Mac like the other three and falls under the normal definition of "slacking off". Speaking of cutscenes,

Inattention and distractibility

Aran shows this several times in Title Defense. In his intro, he notices a rope in the trash can and gets the idea of making his flail, seemingly forgetting all about training for his match with Little Mac. During round intermissions, he's distracted by the audience throwing objects at him, and threatens them instead of spending the break resting or strategizing.

Anxiety

ADHD is highly comorbid with anxiety, due to executive dysfunction (mainly sensory processing), and the risk of overthinking. I admit that this one is a bit of a stretch, since general restlessness and anxiety are linked in many mood disorders, but it's shared between both of his appearances. Super's version of Aran being caught up in his own past can be a sign of social anxiety as well as falling victim to overthinking. In PO Wii, the leg bouncing can be a sign of anxiety for various reasons, whether it be physiological (ex. outside stimuli being unpleasant) or psychological (ex. overthinking the match). His stance in Exhibition's menu for his Contender match is also a little shaky, which is common in fight-or-flight reactions, though it could also be plain hyperactivity.

Pressured speech

In PO Wii. Aran usually talks very quickly, which can be caused by the classic ADHD experience of "having a lot to say, and feeling like there's no time to say it". It's very likely that it's just be a characteristic of his accent, though.

🍀🌠🌈this is a cool section break🌈🌠🍀

There's plenty more symptoms you could make arguments for, but these were some of his more prominent traits. ADHD shares symptoms with a lot of other disorders, though, so let's see some other possibilities...

Counter-Diagnosis #1: Bipolar II Disorder

Bipolar II, according to the National Institute of Mental Health, is characterized by a a pattern of depressive states and hypomanic states (notice the hypo- prefix). We can attribute Aran's demeanor in Super to a depressive state, and his demeanor in Wii to a hypomanic state. I've chosen bipolar II instead of I due to the specifications of a "manic state" not fitting his Wii portrayal as closely.

Hypomania (literally meaning "less than mania") shares many characteristics with full-blown mania, but is more toned-down. People who have experienced genuine hypomanic states usually describe it as helpful towards their productivity, while manic states are notoriously more harmful and often directly affect productivity. Symptoms of mania include restlessness, racing thoughts, pressured speech, overconfidence, increased agitation, impulsiveness, a disconnect from one's surroundings, extreme anxiousness, and many others. Already, we can observe many of these symptoms in Aran's Wii portrayal that are shared with the ADHD diagnosis. However, hypomania tends to lack the "reality disconnect", and we can see that Aran is very aware of his surroundings. Him being in the World Circuit in both Super and Wii can be interpreted as a sign of the hypomanic states being more helpful than detrimental (maybe less so in Super because of the existence of the Special Circuit, but I digress).

I think this take has a lot of ground, maybe more than the ADHD hypothesis. A lot of my earlier points in favor of him having ADHD can also apply to him being bipolar (specifically hyperactivity, recklessness, and especially emotional dysregulation) as well, which blurs the line in some places, but it's still a very strong argument.

Counter-Diagnosis #2: Oppositional Defiant Disorder

According to Mayo Clinic, ODD is "a frequent and ongoing pattern of anger, irritability, arguing and defiance towards parents and other authority figures". The characteristics of ODD can be observed in both SPO's and Wii's Aran.

I think this one's weaker, for a few reasons. First, ODD is considered clinically relevant only during childhood; from then, it can "evolve" into a number of other conditions, including but not limited to borderline personality disorder and the aforementioned bipolar disorder. Obviously, Aran isn't a child, but he could have had this disorder in the past and "grew out of it" from a clinical standpoint.

You could make an argument for the anger issues due to a few of his behaviors, as well as his voice lines in Wii having a sort of "growl" to them, but his irritability is infrequent and mild enough to where it can be attributed back to emotional dysregulation, and the "growl" could just be how the character or his voice actor naturally sounds (I haven't found any clips of Stephen Webster speaking out-of-character, but if anyone has any, I'd love to hear them).

Counter-Diagnosis #3: Antisocial Personality Disorder

The DSM-5 defines APD as consistent displays of deceitfulness, issues with authority, impulsivity, irritability, recklessness, and a diminished capacity for remorse after hurting someone. Again, a few of these symptoms are shared with ADHD, so there's a significant grey area here. Yet, I believe it's stronger than the ODD argument, since his cheating can be a sign of deceitfulness and his apparent antisocial traits in Wii. However, boxing as a combat sport doesn't leave much room for feeling remorse, since doing so can result in throwing or forfeiting a match. I'm not going to count the lack of remorse due to the nature of the sport, but you as a reader can interpret it how you like.

Counter-Diagnosis #4: Autism Spectrum Disorder

Because of how broad the autism spectrum is, you could easily go crazy in-depth with this. I'll do a miniature version of the ADHD symptom setup, which includes traits observed in canon. I won't be including every shared trait, but do keep in mind that ADHD is comorbid with a bunch of different spectrum disorders, and misdiagnoses, especially in women, are fairly common in the real world because of it. I know I'm going to fail to list certain symptoms due to just how many ASD traits there are, so if anyone reading has any more connections to make, be my guest! This "counter-diagnosis" section is for provoking further discussion, after all, and I'm happy to learn from you all.

Hyposensitivity

In PO Wii. To wind up for his right uppercut, Aran hits himself in the side of the head, and after round breaks in Contender, he hits himself repeatedly. Considering his gloves are confirmed to be loaded in his Contender fight, his relative indifference might be a sign of this. People with autism have reported tuning out various stimuli if they become overwhelmed by a bunch of them (sometimes related to meltdown or shutdown), and it's possible that that's what Aran is doing here. The bright lights of the venue combined with the crowd noise and the feeling of being sweaty could be overstimulating, and the supposed hyposensitivity towards being hit is caused by this "tuning out" to avoid a shutdown mid-bout.

Stimming (repetitive movements)

In PO Wii. The leg bounce in his Contender round break can be interpreted as a stim, as well as the wind-ups for his right uppercut (bopping himself in the head) and headbutt (choosing to wind up on the ropes). His bouncing around Mac could also be stimming.

Pathological demand avoidance

This phenomenon can also be comorbid with anxiety, which happens to be a risk factor for ADHD, so we're looping back around with this one. PDA is characterized by a person exhibiting an intense aversion to something that is asked of them, even if they wanted to do it beforehand. It can be associated with feelings of unfairness and like they don't have any control, so someone with PDA may "break the rules" to feel as though they have some control over what happens to them. Aran's high infraction count in Wii could be a sign of a more obsessive form of this. Avoiding the process of carrying out the demand can be conflated with executive dysfunction as well.

TL;DR get this man into a psychiatrist's office ASAP

[iamespecter]

Ok, idea About Gummigoo for your An Unexpected Reunion! (I don't know if you intend to have him in the au since he's pretty new to the universe in general) We all know what the dentures did to him, but just imagine: What if he wasn't completely reset (assuming that's what happened), but had the memories stored in a separate file, and Caine (in case he had the chance to get access to the circus files), found it by accident and showed it to Pauline in the sense of "Look at this weird file I found" and just opens a folder with a sentient model of an NPC that he thought was random.

I like this idea. I really, really, REALLY, LIKE this idea.

I'm going to have to blame you for this idea too, anon. :)

[5aph0]

SHADOWZEL SLOW BURN "Your queen turned on you, and my Goddess turned on me. Perhaps we have more in common than we dare admit to" You can get rare additional dialogue you can get if you wait until late Act 2/Act 3 to speak to Shadowheart about her attacking you in the middle of the night in Act 1. (Related to Enemy of Shar path/Orpheus Path) "At least I know I won't find you atop me the middle of the night now. I mean.... Nevermind, lets consider the matter settled." 5 minutes later:"Don't you dare stop."

[beaztbazzboss]

Yo, lemme show you A VERY CANON how An Alle Kireger mfs take a shower

The Striders of the Path:

Renard: Barely took any bath and he smelled like shit. If somebody told him to take a shower, he would refuse unless get forced. Plus his shower would be a normal shower like what did you expect? Take a shower in a childish way?

Stasczek: Just like how dads take a shower. Nothing's special

Sascha: His ass are too lazy to take a shower and same like Renard, he would smell like shit. If he does take a shower, he just dip himself in water in bathub, doing nothing, and called it a proper way to take a shower

Arthur: Normal bath

Waltz: Normal bath

Percival/Percy: Normal bath except that he uses any kind of brands of shampoos and soaps

The Brotherhood of the Way:

Karl: Same like Stasczek

Nelson: Same like Percy

Raymond brothers(Clay and Johannes): Sometimes they take a shower alone, sometimes together

Jaws and Toothless: They smell stinky and don't take any shower since they got infected

The Guardians of the True Path

Jason: Normal shower and he uses All in one shampoo. Sometimes doesn't take a shower but still keeping his hygeine

Oscar: Wipes himself with a wet towel because he doesn't want any water harming some parts like his ear holes and nose

Brutus: Same liek Jaws and Toothless

Arlo: Normal bath

Otto: Same like Stasczek and Karl

That's it, there's no buts, you can't use your headcanons for this shit. It's always has been canon and you can't refuse it. Mark my words

[talons-and-teeth]

Your Taste, Forever on My Tongue

Pairing: Elain/Lucien

Rating: M

Summary: Elain's office is running a Secret Santa event that coincides with the launch of the new website which she's leading on. She happens to get allocated the last person she could ever think of getting a gift for.

Merry Christmas, @makememakesense ! It's me, your Secret Santa!

Thank you so much being so lovely and giving me so many ideas for this AU, I really hope I got it (somewhat) right!

Thank you also to the @acotargiftexchange organisers for giving me this opportunity. This is my first ever fic and I've been so nervous about it, but I'm so glad to have done it for such a joyful community. Special thanks goes to my wife @mmiscbutterflies for helping me brainstorm and bring my 'Love, Actually' vision to life, and generally talk me down from the proverbial ledge when I became anxious/was not in the right headspace to write. Love you always.

Read on AO3 here

Snippet below:

Elain was late.

Not her usual, sorry I’m late-I couldn’t resist-there was a new cafe I just had to try on the way- late, but a fuck me-I slept through five alarms-maybe I spent too long watching reruns of Bake Off-or was it the bottle of Sauvignon?- tardiness, which left her cursing profusely while she tripped over her tights, slapped on eye cream and was out the door.

[shadowfloofster]

Watching Bad's vod where q!Foolish, q!Cellbit and q!Baghera are trying to set up q!Bad with q!Forever, now with CC!Bad's comment about his character being oblivious in an aromatic way is great

The others talking about who to ship q!Bad with while he sits in his chair, the aromantic and skephalo flag slowly fading into the background because this man will not be with ANYONE unless it's Skeppy

And I love that about him. They're currently talking in metaphors and q!Bad is just "????? I don't understand" and I love him for it.

Foolish: we're talking about the emotions in your heart right now!

Bad: Diamonds are forever!

Either he did that on purpose or that's the best coincidence to ever happen

[moe-broey]

HELP maybe this is influenced by how I'm writing this, or maybe it was supposed to be gleaned from canon and I just. Haven't fully thought about it til now. Haven't Deeply analyzed it beyond the blaring alarm bells that go off when reading this. But. Alfonse's,

Straight into.

This isn't him doubling down. This is him BACKTRACKING. This is him going, "oh fuck I think maybe I came on a little too strong maybe I was a bit too vulnerable and that's really scary. How do I fix this" and he's running through all the dialogue options in his head like Okay. Play it Cool. Keep it Casual. Proclaim your undying loyalty and devotion to your Trusted Partner (person he just told in the beginning of this conversation that he didn't intend to become friends with) by making yourself a blade and shield for them. NAILED IT 👍

[sui-imi]

Can creators/aspiring creators join the UnderNet Prtocol?

hmm... that's a good question!

I'm going to say that if creators find the code for it, they can observe, but they cannot directly interact with it. let's say it's... a compatibility issue...? (we're too four dimensional? haha i don't know)

I think it's best if it stays as an in-multiverse thing, if that makes sense. (also if Admin knew that creators could use it, he'd lose his mind and start annoying each one hahaha)

edit: this also means that creators can't look at/order through UnderEats... i'm sorry 😔 (but you can get your ocs to get some for you)

[quatregats]

Hornblower literally is one of the genders of all time

[windfighter]

Not only thunder roars

Prompt: ”I’m scared.”

-----

Takeru curled up next to Yamato and Yamato put an arm around him.

”I’m scared”, Takeru whispered.

Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder roared. I’m scared too, Yamato wanted to say. But he couldn’t. He needed to be brave, Takeru’s rock. Needed to be a good brother. Or else mom and dad might start fighting again.

”I know it looks scary, but lots of things that look scary aren’t”, he said. ”Like that bug you found yesterday!”

A bug was far from the same thing as lightning though. Another flash crossed the sky and Yamato supressed the need to flinch. Takeru did instead, pressed harder into Yamato’s side. Yamato lifted him into his lap. Part of him wanted to suggest they hid in the wardrobe. He pushed that part as far away as possible.

”Why is the sky angry?” Takeru asked.

Yamato didn’t know. He raked his brain to find what he had done to wrong the sky, but nothing came up.

”Maybe….” he started and tried to think something up on the spot. ”...maybe there’s just been too much work for it lately. Like how it is for dad sometimes.”

Thunder roared again. Takeru gripped Yamato’s shirt and pressed his face against Yamato’s chest. Yamato watched the rain run down the window.

”He’s not angry at us, just very loud”, Yamato said.

He wished he could believe his own words. Takeru seemed to calm down a bit though, the tight grip around Yamato’s shirt loosened. Yamato lifted a hand to his cheek. The bruise had disappeared, but the pain was still fresh in his memory. He swallowed and hugged Takeru.

”He could never be angry at you”, he whispered.

”Is the sky angry at you?” Takeru asked.

Yamato blinked. Shook his head.

”Maybe it is”, he said. ”Maybe it’s angry I’m holding you in here instead of letting you go out and greet it.”

Takeru looked at him. Yamato did his best to grin and Takeru laughed. Settled more comfortable in Yamato’s lap and looked through the window. Yamato did as well, tried to keep the memories of dad’s hand and the pain away. Takeru leaned his head back and looked at Yamato.

”You’ll always protect me when it’s angry, won’t you?”

Yamato wasn’t sure what they were talking about any longer, but he knew one thing. He ruffled Takeru’s hair and gave him another hug.

”I’ll always protect you.”

[cyrusthedragon]

Homelander with his own team: *threatens to laser them, pulls out their guts, tries to pick out their eye with his finger*

Homelander with his fake ass enemy: *heart eyes* WILLIAM!! *shifts from foot to foot* may I come in?? *sighs offended when sees him with other man* YOU CHEATER! *sad cat look* I'll miss us...

WHAT THE FUCK, MAN-

nothing just canon

[sacrificialarrow]

I have two specific blog specific lore posts I need to make ( canon divergencies re: Mythal, bc my bestie does her better than Bioware ever could tyvm, and subsequently, the different regrets you'd see bc of it bc they're not the same )

But that said, flu's kicking my ass so I'm going to try to get some of my hcs out of my skull until I have the energy to write.

If y'all would give me some topic ideas / prompts / questions, I'll smooch you directly on the forehead <3

[kiwriteswords]

Hiya! May i please request protective Aaron Hotchner? Thanks Ki!

To the Ends of the Earth [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4k|| AN: LOVE PROTECTIVE HOTCH!! Thanks for requesting!!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, reader was taken advantage of by a powerful figure, protective!Hotch, mentions of sexual assault/harassment, mentions of physical altercations, blackmail, canon-typical violence, angry Hotch, protective!Derek Morgan, Hotch's POV, Reader defending herself, established relationship, Strauss is a nightmare boss sometimes, Aaron "I must make sure justice is served" Hotchner, bureaucratic politics

Summary: When an opportunity of a lifetime turns into a nightmare for you, Aaron Horchner needs to make it right.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man given to fits of rage. His demeanor, honed by years of service and hardship, was one of controlled calm, a fortress of logic and order. But as he watched you move around the kitchen that morning, something stirred deep within him—a tumultuous blend of protectiveness and fury that he hadn't felt since the harrowing days of George Foyet.

Something was off about you. It had been for a few weeks now, ever since you returned from that high-profile assignment with the task force. Hotch remembered how proud he had felt when you were selected, the honor that lit up your eyes, the excitement that animated your every gesture. But now, the light had faded from your eyes, replaced by a haunted, distant gaze.

Your movements were mechanical, your smiles forced. You flinched at sudden movements and seemed to wrap yourself tighter in your own arms whenever the house fell too quiet. The changes were subtle, but to Hotch, they screamed of something profoundly wrong.

He watched now as you poured coffee with slightly trembling hands, the dark liquid spilling slightly over the rim of the mug. Hotch's jaw clenched. He approached you, his steps silent but purposeful.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of concern that made you pause and look up. "We need to talk."

You nodded, setting the coffee pot down a bit too quickly, liquid sloshing onto the counter. "I know," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Hotch reached out, gently lifting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "What happened on that assignment?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You've been different since you came back."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you bit your lip, a clear struggle within you. The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken fears.

"It's... it was nothing, Aaron. I—I just got overwhelmed with the work, that's all," you stammered, but Hotch's eyes darkened. He knew you. He knew when you were hiding something painful.

"Talk to me," he pressed, his hand firm yet gentle on your arm. "Please."

The floodgates opened then, and as you told him about your boss—the respected and powerful figure within the Bureau, the one with connections that reached the highest echelons of government—Hotch felt a cold fury settle in his stomach. The man had taken advantage of you, betrayed your trust in the most despicable way, and used his power to silence you.

"He told me... he told me if I said anything, it'd be the end of my career. He's friends with—"

Hotch cut you off, his voice icy, "I don't care who he's friends with."

You flinched at the steel in his voice, and he immediately softened, pulling you into a protective embrace. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just so, so angry that he did this to you. That I wasn't there to protect you."

Hotch held you close, his mind racing. His instinct was to protect, to avenge, to rectify. But he was also Aaron Hotchner, a man of the law, bound by rules and protocols—even if his heart screamed to break them for your sake.

"We're going to handle this," he whispered into your hair, his voice a steady rumble of contained fury. "I promise you, I won't let him get away with this. No one hurts you and just walks away."

Hotch felt your body tense in his arms, the weight of your emotions palpable against his chest. He held you tighter, a silent promise in the embrace.

"Look at me," he urged gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his once again. In them, he saw a storm of hurt, fear, and defiance—a maelstrom that made his own heart clench with an indignant rage he seldom allowed others to see.

"I... I don't want to make this into something big, Aaron. It's... it's embarrassing," you whispered, your voice breaking with the weight of your vulnerability. "And I... I don't want to be seen as a victim. He's too powerful. What if—"

"No," Hotch interrupted firmly, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze was intense, almost piercing, as he spoke with a clarity that cut through the fog of your worries. "You are not a victim. And this... this man has committed a crime. His power doesn't protect him from the law—not from justice. Not as long as I'm here."

You searched his face, looking for the certainty that felt so elusive to you now. Finding it in his eyes, the relentless determination that defined him, a small, fragile sense of security began to weave through your trepidation.

"Aaron, I'm scared," you admitted, the truth sounding stark and raw between you. "I'm scared of the fallout, of what it means for us, for my career..."

Hotch's expression hardened, the lines of his face setting into that familiar mold of resolve that had carried him through countless challenges. "I understand your fear, and it's valid. But you're not alone in this—not now, not ever. We'll do this together and on your terms. We'll take every precaution, use every resource at our disposal. We'll fight this, and we'll win."

The certainty in his voice was more than just comforting—it was a bastion against the doubts that threatened to overwhelm you. Hotch stood, his posture rigid with controlled anger, a testament to his unwavering support.

"And if he thinks he can intimidate or silence you, he doesn't know who he's dealing with. He doesn't know who I am," Hotch added his voice a low growl of protective ferocity. It was the same tone he'd used years ago, a sound born of fury and pain from darker days. It reassured you, reminded you of the strength you had beside you.

You nodded, leaning into him, drawing strength from his presence. "What do we do now?" you asked, the practical part of you ready to take the next steps, no matter how daunting.

"We start by documenting everything. Every interaction you've had with him, anything that can support your case. We'll get statements from anyone who might have noticed anything during your assignment," Hotch planned out loud, his mind already sifting through procedures and protocols. "I'll talk to Strauss personally. We need to make sure this is handled by the book and with the utmost seriousness."

"And then?" Your voice was small, but your eyes were steady, meeting his.

"Then we make sure justice is served," Hotch stated simply. "And we ensure that this never happens to you, or anyone else, ever again."

The resolve in his voice was unwavering, the promise not just of a lover but of a protector, a leader. 

The next day, Hotch’s steps were purposeful as he approached Erin Strauss's office, his jaw set in a firm line, his thoughts a whirlwind of strategy and barely contained anger. This wasn't just another bureaucratic hurdle; it was personal, and the stakes were far higher than usual.

Knocking briskly, Hotch didn't wait for a reply before pushing the door open. Strauss looked up from her desk; her expression schooled into one of cautious neutrality.

"Agent Hotchner, what can I do for you?" Strauss asked, her tone as meticulously controlled as the rest of her demeanor.

"We need to talk about an urgent matter," Hotch began, his voice laced with a severity that made Strauss straighten slightly in her chair.

"It's about the conduct of a high-ranking official in the task force assigned to an agent on my team. There have been serious allegations made against him," Hotch stated bluntly, not one to dance around the subject.

Strauss's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern passing over her features before she masked it with a bureaucratic calm. "I'm aware of the individual you're referring to," she said slowly. "However, you know as well as I do the complexities involved. He has significant connections, Aaron. This could become a highly volatile situation."

"That doesn't excuse his actions or absolve us of our duty to act," Hotch countered sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "We have a responsibility to protect our agents and uphold the integrity of the Bureau."

"Aaron," Strauss began, her tone firmer, more authoritative. "I understand your concerns, as well as your….personal connection to this, but we must approach this carefully. Rushing into this could backfire, not just on us but on your agent as well. We risk turning her into the subject of a very public, very messy scandal."

Hotch felt his frustration mount, the protective fury simmering beneath his cool exterior. "With all due respect, Ma'am, I'm not willing to let this go because it's complicated. If we start picking and choosing which battles to fight based on political convenience—"

"This is not about convenience, Agent Hotchner!" Strauss interrupted, her voice rising slightly for the first time. "It's about strategy. It's about ensuring we handle this in a way that ensures justice without causing unnecessary harm. I am not saying we do nothing. I'm saying we need a plan."

Hotch paused, the logical part of his brain recognizing the truth in her words, even as his emotions rebelled against the implication. "I want your assurance, then, that we will pursue this. That it won't be swept under the rug because he's 'connected.'"

"You have my word that we will take appropriate action," Strauss said, her gaze locking with Hotch's. "But I need you to be patient. Give me time to navigate this minefield. I need to talk to the Director, maybe even higher. This isn't just about the Bureau, Aaron. It's bigger than that."

Hotch's expression hardened the lines of his face set in determination. "Time is something I can give, Erin, but silence is not. If we don't see action, I will take this to every authority necessary."

Strauss met his gaze, a silent battle of wills taking place in the quiet tension of the room. Finally, she nodded. "Understood. Let's reconvene in forty-eight hours. I should have more information then."

Hotch nodded curtly, the promise of action the only thing tempering his rage as he left her office. The fight was far from over, and while the bureaucratic wheels turned slowly, his resolve was as swift and unyielding as ever. Justice, he knew, sometimes required more than just good intentions. It needed steadfast, relentless advocacy, and that was something Aaron Hotchner was all too ready to provide.

As Hotch sifted through the case files on his desk, his focus was frequently interrupted by a far more personal concern. The events involving you had left a residual tension that permeated not just his office but his every thought. It was during one of these distracted moments that he heard the familiar knock of Derek Morgan at his door.

"Come in," Hotch called, setting aside the files and steeling himself for the conversation he anticipated was about more than just BAU casework.

Derek stepped in, closing the door behind him with a seriousness that matched the gravity Hotch felt. "Hotch, I've heard about what happened. How's she holding up?" Derek's voice carried a mix of concern and protective anger.

"She's coping, Derek, but it’s far from ideal," Hotch admitted, feeling the weight of his responsibilities as both a unit chief and a partner, “She's strong, but this... this isn't something anyone should have to be strong for--what happened... it’s unacceptable."

Derek's presence was reassuring, a reminder that he wasn't alone in his resolve to address the issue. "We can't just wait for the system to grind forward. What are we doing to make sure she feels safe, not just now but in the future?" Derek asked, his stance resolute.

Leaning back in his chair, Hotch considered the proactive steps they needed to take. "Strauss is handling the investigation, but we need to tighten our own security measures. I’m thinking about revising our late-night protocols and perhaps reintroducing a buddy system."

Derek nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "And maybe we should look into a refresher on self-defense for the team. It's been a while, and it might help give everyone a bit more sense of control," he suggested.

"That’s a good point. I’ll arrange for a workshop. We should also consider implementing more discreet ways for team members to alert security. Fast and effective responses could make a big difference," Hotch said, feeling a strategic plan forming.

"Like panic buttons?" Derek proposed.

"Exactly," Hotch confirmed, his mind already running through logistics and implementations. "I'll ask Garcia to look into integrating something seamless yet powerful."

Derek’s next words struck a chord, emphasizing the culture Hotch always strived to foster within the team. "We need to make a statement, Hotch. Not just with new systems and training, but in how we handle this. We protect our own, not just out there," Derek motioned towards the world beyond their office walls, "but in here, too."

Hotch met Derek’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the shared commitment. "I agree completely. Let’s set up a team meeting tomorrow. We’ll discuss these changes openly and ensure everyone knows we’re serious about safeguarding our own."

As Derek left, Hotch turned his attention back to the files before him but with a renewed focus. The safety and well-being of his team, particularly you, now had a clear path forward. With Derek's support and the team's collective effort, Hotch was determined to transform this challenging situation into an opportunity to strengthen the BAU from within. The resolve in his heart was matched by the plans forming in his mind, and he felt ready to lead this crucial initiative.

The wheels of bureaucracy had finally begun to turn, albeit slowly. Hotch could feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere within the Bureau as whispers of the investigation started to circulate among the upper echelons. Strauss had been true to her word so far, initiating discreet inquiries that didn’t draw undue attention yet signaled a clear intent to address the allegations seriously.

However, just as Hotch was beginning to see a glimmer of progress, a new, more immediate crisis erupted. It was late in the evening, and you were at home with Hotch, the two of you trying to enjoy a quiet dinner together to take your minds off the ongoing turmoil. Your phone buzzed with the arrival of an email, and the change in your demeanor was immediate and alarming.

“What is it?” Hotch asked, noting the sudden pallor that washed over your face as you stared at your screen.

“It’s him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He��s... he’s threatening me, Aaron.”

The words hit Hotch like a physical blow. His jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened with a fury that had been simmering just below the surface, now brought to a boiling point by this new provocation. He took the phone from your hands; his movements controlled but brisk, and read the email himself.

The message was succinct, laced with venom and arrogance. The man threatened to ruin your reputation, to make sure you would never work in law enforcement again if you continued to "drag his name through the mud." The audacity of the threat, the blatant attempt to intimidate and silence you, ignited a fierce protectiveness in Hotch.

“This ends now,” Hotch said, his voice low and dangerous. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor with a sharp screech. “I won’t let him get away with this.”

You reached out, touching his arm. “Aaron, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure he understands the consequences of threatening an FBI agent,” Hotch replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. “He thinks he can intimidate us into silence, but he’s gravely mistaken.”

Hotch’s first call was to Strauss, informing her of the new development. His words were clipped, his anger barely contained as he explained the situation.

“Erin, he sent a threatening email. He’s trying to intimidate her into dropping the charges. This is witness tampering, and it’s unacceptable. We need to act, and we need to act now,” Hotch insisted, his demeanor unyielding.

“We will start with securing a formal censure against him. I’ll also alert the Director immediately. This is serious, Aaron, and we’ll treat it as such,” Strauss responded, her voice reflecting a new urgency.

Satisfied that the Bureau was finally mobilizing with the necessary aggression, Hotch turned his attention back to you. He could see the fear and uncertainty that the email had sparked, and he knew he had to be the rock you could lean on.

“Listen to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. “I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you. We’re in this together, and we’re going to see it through. No one threatens you and gets away with it. Not on my watch.”

As Hotch spoke, his assurance, his unwavering support, you felt a flicker of hope. Despite the darkness of the situation, with Hotch by your side, you believed that, somehow, everything might still turn out right.

Aaron Hotchner had settled into the kind of focus that came with years of late nights and urgent cases. The dim light from his desk lamp cast long shadows across the paperwork in front of him, the numbers and details blurring into a singular narrative of crime and consequence. He was deeply immersed in a complex profile, one that needed to be finished before morning, when a faint noise caused him to look up. It was a sound out of place in the quiet of the late evening, a soft shuffling, a hesitant step.

The sight that greeted him was one he was wholly unprepared for. You were leaning heavily against the doorframe, your face visibly battered and bruised, your clothing disheveled as if from a scuffle. There was a black eye forming, swelling under the stark fluorescent light, and blood was trickling from a cut on your lip, dripping onto your collar.

For a moment, Hotch froze, his brain trying to process the scene before him. His files, his profile, the pen still poised in his hand—all of it faded into irrelevance as a surge of protective anger rose within him. He was on his feet in an instant, his chair pushed back with such force it nearly toppled.

“What did he do?!” The words burst from him, laden with fury and concern as he closed the distance between you and him in a few long strides. His hands hovered just inches from you, itching to reach out, to confirm you were real and standing there, yet hesitating out of fear of hurting you further.

Your appearance was a stark, visual slap to his system, igniting a rage in Hotch that was pure and lethal, a reminder of the days when he'd hunted the most dangerous criminals. His mind raced with the implications of your injuries—how it had happened, where, and most importantly, who was responsible.

Seeing you in such a state, so vulnerable yet defiant, was more than just a call to action. It was a personal affront, a challenge to everything he stood for, both as the unit chief of the BAU and as the man who loved you. Your safety had been compromised under his watch, and the violation of that trust was something he took as a personal failure.

“Who did this?” His voice was a low growl now, demanding an answer, needing to know whom to direct his burgeoning wrath towards. The protective barrier he always maintained—the one that kept his professional judgment clear of emotional interference—was crumbling fast, chipped away by each drop of blood he saw staining your skin.

Your response was shaky but filled with a fire that spoke volumes of your resilience. “It was him. In the locker room,” you managed to say, your voice a testament to both the physical pain you endured and the psychological battle you were fighting. “There are no cameras there. He knew that.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, his eyes hardening with resolute anger. You had defended yourself, survived, and prevailed, yet the cost was written all over your face, and it was a price too steep for him to bear without retribution.

“We’re going to Strauss now,” he stated unequivocally, the protective fervor in his voice leaving no room for negotiation. “He won’t get away with this. Not now, not ever.”

He quickly grabbed a first aid kit, gently tending to your wounds with a steadiness in his hands that belied the storm of emotions inside him. Once he was sure you were stable, he offered you his arm, ready to accompany you to Strauss’s office. The walk there was tense, each step heavy with the weight of the incident and its implications.

Upon reaching Strauss’s office, Hotch knocked firmly, not waiting for an invitation to enter. Strauss looked up, her expression turning from surprise to alarm at the sight of your condition.

“Aaron, what happened?” Strauss stood immediately, her eyes wide as they took in the visible marks of the attack on you.

“She was attacked by him, in the gym locker room. There are no cameras there. It was premeditated,” Hotch explained, his voice controlled but the underlying fury unmistakable. “She defended herself and subdued him. He’s still there, unconscious and handcuffed.”

Strauss’s face hardened, her eyes now reflecting a mix of anger and determination. “I’ll call security, have them take him into custody and ensure he’s watched until he can be formally charged. This is attempted assault on a federal agent, at the very least. We’ll push for the maximum charges.”

You nodded, leaning slightly on Hotch for support, both physically and emotionally. “Thank you, Strauss. I... I defended myself, but I want this to be handled by the book. We need to make sure he never has the opportunity to hurt anyone else.”

Strauss moved around her desk, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “You did good, and I’m sorry this happened under our watch. We’ll take care of it from here. And you,” she looked at Hotch, “make sure she gets to a hospital, and then take some time off. Both of you. You need to recover from this.”

Hotch nodded, his protective instincts fully engaged as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you out of the office. The rage still simmered within him, a fierce protectiveness that would not soon abate. But alongside it was a profound respect for your strength and resilience and a renewed commitment to stand by you, no matter what lay ahead.

That night, the world outside seemed distant, almost irrelevant as you and Aaron Hotchner returned to the sanctuary of your home. The hospital visit had been thorough but exhausting, leaving both of you drained yet relieved that nothing was critically amiss. Now, in the quiet comfort of your bathroom, Hotch took on the role of caretaker with a gentleness that made your heart swell despite the pain.

You sat on the closed lid of the toilet, watching him gather supplies—antiseptic, cotton pads, and some fresh bandages. The care with which he handled each item, his movements deliberate and focused, was a quiet testament to his concern for you. As he turned to you, his expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken promise of tenderness.

"Let's get this cleaned up," he murmured, wetting a cotton pad with antiseptic. His touch was feather-light as he dabbed at the cut on your lip, the one that had stopped bleeding but still throbbed with every movement. You flinched slightly, not from pain, but from the intimacy of the gesture, the proximity in a moment filled with so much vulnerability.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this," Hotch said quietly, the weight of his emotions making his voice thick and unusually expressive. He paused, his hands steady as he tended to your wounds, but his heart was anything but calm. "I should have—"

The words trailed off as a tide of frustration and guilt surged within him. Hotch despised the feeling of helplessness, the gnawing thought that he might have prevented your pain had he anticipated the threat more effectively. It was a violation of his deepest principles, both as a protector and a partner, to see you hurt and know he had not been there to prevent it.

He gazed at your face, noting the bruises that marred your skin, each one a stark reminder of the violence you endured. It pained him to see these tangible signs of trauma on someone he cared deeply about. The instinct to shield you from harm was ingrained in his very nature, honed through years of leading a team that faced danger daily. Yet here, in the quiet of your shared space, the reality that you had faced such danger alone was a bitter pill to swallow.

As Hotch looked into your eyes, seeing the trust and understanding there despite the shadows of the recent ordeal, he felt a renewed surge of resolve. His role was not just to protect but to support and ensure such a breach never occurred again. This incident, while closed legally, would prompt him to reevaluate his own vigilance. The emotional undercurrent of this moment, the blend of regret and protective fervor, was a powerful catalyst for Hotch. It reinforced the essential truth that his duty to protect you extended beyond the physical; it was emotional, a bond forged in mutual respect and shared trials.

The silence that followed his unfinished apology was filled with a heavy understanding. He knew you didn’t blame him—you had faced the situation with incredible resilience. But he held himself to a standard that was often unrelenting. Hotch needed to articulate this, not just for you to hear, but for him to acknowledge it openly.

“You shouldn’t have had to handle this alone,” he continued, his voice firmer, reflecting his internal commitment. “I’m here, and I will do everything in my power to ensure you never feel that isolated again. We’ll increase security protocols, and I’ll personally review them.”

His promise was not just words; it was a vow, a pledge of his ongoing commitment to your safety and well-being. Hotch knew that recovery from such events wasn’t just about physical healing—it was about restoring a sense of security and normalcy. He was prepared to lead that effort, standing by you as both your staunchest ally and your devoted partner.

"Don't," you interrupted gently, placing a hand over his. "Don't do that to yourself. You couldn’t have known. And you were there when it mattered. You’ve always been."

He looked at you, really looked, as if seeing you anew, and nodded slowly. "It's over now," he reassured you and himself more than anyone. "He's in custody, and he's not getting out anytime soon. Strauss is making sure of it."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the past weeks begin to lift ever so slightly. "It’s hard to believe it’s over," you admitted, allowing yourself to lean into his care, into the promise of safety his presence provided.

"It is, though. And we're going to make sure you're safe, that this never happens again," Hotch said, his voice firm with conviction. He finished bandaging a smaller scrape on your cheek, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if to impart comfort through his touch.

You reached up, your hand brushing against his. "Thank you, Aaron. For everything. I don’t know how I would have handled all this without you."

Hotch’s hand covered yours, his grip warm and reassuring. "You're not alone in this. You’ll never be," he said, his gaze holding yours. "We’re in this together, remember?"

As you nodded, a silence fell between you, comfortable and healing. It was the kind of silence that spoke of shared struggles and mutual support, of battles fought and won together. Hotch finally stood, helping you to your feet.

"Let’s get some rest," he suggested, his tone lightening a bit as he led you toward the bedroom. "You need to heal, and I need to make sure you stop finding trouble," he added, a hint of humor glimmering through the residual tension of the day.

You chuckled softly, leaning against him as you walked. "Deal," you replied, knowing that whatever the future held, you faced it not alone but together, stronger and more united than ever.

Tag List:

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[melodymidway]

Just a few hard pills to swallow about the Westerosi succession for Team Black stans.

The Greens weren't at all delusional or selfish to expect Aegon to be named heir.

As a matter of fact, the firstborn sons of lords and kings become heirs the moment they were born, and without the need for specification. It doesn't matter if the first wife, or the second, or the tenth, has given birth to said son. So when Otto and Alicent advocated for Aegon's birthright, they asked for a basic thing in their time and society. No matter how much people want to ignore this fact and call Aegon 'usurper', his claim was very real and very strong. This is why he, his sons and his brothers would have found themselves on the Wall at best and dead at worst even if they had adhered to Viserys's whims.

Lucerys has zero claim to Driftmark. And no, being the great-great-whatever grandson of Alyssa Velaryon doesn't make the slightest difference.

Not even legitimisation would have helped Luke retain his Velaryon heirship because he isn't a Velaryon. Period. The argument about his being Alyssa Velaryon's descendant, which is somehow supposed to justify the actual usurpation of the other House's seat, is one of the most nonsensical takes I've seen. Naturally, the noble Houses intermarry all the time. If every lord opened his pedigree and decided that he has a claim to his great-grandmother's family's castle, Westeros would drown in blood. That's why succession laws exist, as unfair as they can be. For some reason, I don't see people saying that Doran Martell should be crowned king because he's descended from Daenerys Targaryen.

Women in Westeros can and do inherit. Rhaenyra isn't special.

As the Andal law goes, a son inherits before a daughter, and a daughter inherits before an uncle. While the male primogeniture is a thing, there's a clear clause of female inheritance. Cersei becomes the Lady of Casterly Rock when her brothers are out of picture. Rhaenys operated on the same law while trying to get her lawful heirship. There are cases when uncles attempt to steal their nieces' birthright (as in the situation with Sansa Stark and her uncle Jonnel), but plenty of women do rule their ancestral seats. Saying that Rhaenyra is the first woman to be named heir is wildly inaccurate.

If Rhaenys had ascended the Iron Throne instead of Viserys, the matters of succession wouldn't have changed.

For some reason many people believe that Rhaenys's ascension would have magically wiped out male primogeniture (same for Jace if he had become king). I'm sorry to disappoint, but Laenor would have been Rhaenys's heir, not Laena. The latter would have been made one only if Laenor had met his canon fate and died with no legitimate issue. As I mentioned earlier, Rhaenys strived to get her inheritance based on Andal law, according to which she does have an advantage over her uncle Baelon and his sons. If she had been the older sister of Viserys and Daemon, she wouldn't have pressed her claim. By the same logic, if Viserys had never remarried, Rhaenyra would have had a legal advantage over Daemon (though Jaehaerys's 'brilliant' management of Rhaenys vs Viserys debate might have gotten in the way).

The Greens are pro Andal law, not anti women in power.

And these are two different things since, as it had already been said, the Andal law does include a clause of female inheritance. So no, it isn't hypocritical of Alicent to offer to make Baela heiress of Driftmark. Laenor is dead without legitimate children. Laena is equally dead. The circumstances make Baela a very viable candidate for the Velaryon heirship.

[robin-the-enby]

More doodles cuz why not.

My self insert with my friends self insert oc Marí

Also Leon cuz he’s hot in Vendetta