#leia rambles

[leiawritesstories]

life update :)

hey everyone!

as of today, I've officially been diagnosed with endometriosis, which is both good and bad news. it's bad because endo is a chronic illness for which the only treatment is surgical excision, but it's good news because now i know what's been going on and I know that it WILL be treated to improve my health.

anyway. posting will probably be super random and sporadic as i recover, but i have another part of until proven guilty almost ready to go (hehehe @house-of-galathynius & @mariaofdoranelle) and want to post that soon. and some microfics too!!

[kaleidoscopic-disaster]

no bc v e schwab was so sick for using a victor vale quote as the dedication for this savage song

[jeonginslefthand]

Hey everyone! Classes are starting back up which means there will be some inactivity for a bit.

I will be working on chapters for the San series, but I will also be working on some one-shots to hold over until I get the other parts out.

Please be patient cause my writing time is slower when I have my classes. My ask box is also now open to chat or to share thoughts. You can find the ask box in my profile 😉

I would feel bad if I suddenly didn't post for a bit without any explanation so yeah thanks for listening to my ramblings.

[sunleaffe]

i have been awake since 9:30 am and it’s 2 am now, took a final at 10:30, stayed on campus till 6 pm, took another final, came home, dissociated, pulled myself together and took my online final at 12 am…i’m not sure how i did 3 finals in one day (and studied for 5 hrs straight for my 6 pm one)

[leiawritesstories]

excuse

the FUCK

out of me 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

MARIA WHYYYYYY THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE PAST THEIR COMMUNICATION BLOCK THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE TALKING

Look at Us Now - ch. 28

Fic masterlist

Not me disappearing and coming back with angst

Warnings: you might be mad at me by the end of this chapter

Words: 3,8k

There was a lot of gross things that, as a mother, Aelin was willing to do, but gift-wrapping a peed stick for her boyfriend wasn’t one of them.

Instead, Aelin texted Rowan asking him to pick Maisie up alone. After work, she went straight to get her pregnancy confirmed with some blood work that’d be done tomorrow, then went to the mall to find a cute envelope to put the test in.

Aelin was supposed to go straight home after, but she got sidetracked by the baby stores. Sue her.

Though it was getting pretty late. So late she had to pause the onesie window-shopping because her phone started pinging with Rowan’s texts.

>> Baby

>> Working late today?

>> I’m cleaning my closet for when you decide to bring your things

>> I made soup for dinner

>> Maisie and Fleetfoot are sleeping

>> And my cock is already hard for you

>> Don’t make me miss you too much

His texts brought a smile to her lips. Torn between her promise to stop lying to him and the truth potentially ruining her plans, Aelin decided she’d just not say anything to him—only when it was time.

Her reply began with a devilish grinning emoji.

<< Or else?

<< I’ll be home soon

<< Buzzard

<< Love you

She put her phone away, not knowing the cause for the quiver in her stomach—something between morning sickness, being too in love and nausea from antidepressant withdrawal, now that she had to switch her medication to something more pregnancy-friendly.

Aelin wanted to suspend all her medication for the baby’s sake, but Dr. Blackbeak advised her against it—and was unkind enough to remind her about what happened when she last did it.

Her history with postpartum depression, the main reason she was freaking out about this pregnancy. She’d always wanted this second baby—now or later, surprise or planned—but as much as it didn’t change the outcome, it also didn’t change how anxious she felt about it.

Being a second-time mom, people would think Aelin wasn’t scared. Truth was, she was fucking terrified. Even more so than in her first pregnancy.

This wasn’t the cold rush in the pit of Aelin’s belly, making a mother-to-be wonder about how her new journey would be. This was the sheer dread of a woman who went to hell and back not a very long time ago.

Aelin took a deep breath, clutching the little onesie for dear life as if it’d steady her. She let herself sniff it because it smelled like babies, rainbows and unicorns, then blinked back a few tears because pregnancy hormones and the moodiness from antidepressant withdrawal weren’t a good combo.

Morning sickness made her dehydrated enough. The last thing Aelin needed was to cry like a baby at the mall.

When the timer went off a few days ago and Aelin saw two lines on the pregnancy test, she shrieked with joy. Her chest inflated like a balloon, overcome with the most exquisite feeling, and then memories of a tiny, breakable Maisie flooded her thoughts. That’s when her smile died down.

She remembered her daughter’s cute nursery, and how Rowan would shout at her when he visited because he was over-sanitizing everything Maisie came near, but Aelin would rather kill herself than get out of bed to pick up a broom.

She remembered dizziness and black spots in her vision because Aelin wasn’t eating as much as a nursing mother should.

She remembered wondering how well-off Maisie would be with just Rowan, and remembered toughening up and shaking these thoughts off because growing up without her own mom sucked.

She remembered not remembering Maisie’s first year like a proper mom would, because her faulty brain deemed it safer to erase it than allow Aelin to relieve it in any way.

Still, she could do this again. She would do this again.

And while Aelin had no certainty over how having a newborn baby again would look like, she knew the outcome would be better if she allowed herself to rely on Rowan.

Aelin was self-sufficient enough to not really need anyone, but she also could admit that Rowan had a skill-set that complimented hers. They made a good team. Therefore, though Aelin didn’t need him, she was ready to allow herself to.

And right now, she could really use his restorative cuddles or the meals he’d prep when she was pregnant with Maisie. Everything at the hospital cafeteria made her stomach riot, so Aelin had a bag of IV fluids for lunch, after she felt ill at the end of a 6-hour surgery. Rowan would freak the fuck out if he knew.

But then she saw a White Hawks onesie, and every worry flew out the window for a moment. It was one of the first things he bought for Maisie, and even today, he got her a new jersey every time she outgrew one.

She took one off the rack and smiled. This wasn’t the original plan, but the envelope with the beta hCG test was definitely coming with a gift attached now.

˜˜

“Again?” Sorscha, the hospital’s pharmacist, frowned at Aelin’s request.

“What do you mean, again?”

“I heard you came here asking for the same thing earlier today.”

Fucking hospital gossip.

On the way home, Aelin had to pull over and ended up retching inside one of her shopping bags—but had the time to get the onesie out before she made its bag unsalvageable—so she decided to do a quick detour back to work and surreptitiously snatch a bag of IV fluids.

It didn’t take a PhD to know that intravenous medication was more effective than tablets, and Aelin happened to have easy access to it and a medical degree to take care of herself.

But now Sorscha’s unwillingness to help was kinda ruining her plans.

The pharmacist continued, “Did you see a physician before coming here?”

Absolutely not. If Aelin told a single soul inside this hospital about her pregnancy, there was a chance someone might congratulate Rowan about it before she did it herself.

Instead, Aelin said, “I am the physician.”

“Really? You broke a bone so bad you need anti-nausea and B1?”

Aelin crossed her arms, shooting daggers at Sorscha. What was even her point here?

Still, she pressed on, “Does Captain Whitethorn know you’re here?”

“That is none of your business,” Aelin said slowly, her tone and glare hard as steel. “I came here for saline, electrolytes, glucose, vitamins and ondansetron; not relationship advice. Can I have the fluids or not?”

Sorscha’s jaw worked, her tiny frame now filled with anger. Aelin didn’t mean to be a jerk, but the woman crossed a line by mentioning her boyfriend.

“Sorry, Doc. I only take orders from physicians when they’re on call,” the pharmacist said before turning her back on Aelin and leaving her alone in the hallway.

Aelin walked about two halls and found chairs by the administrative area, and texted her resident.

<< Nox

<< Who’s on call tonight?

Thank Mala her response came fast.

>> Bas and I

>> Need anything?

<< No you’re not

<< You just pulled a 24h shift

<< Tonight you’re getting a good night’s sleep for Mr. Faliq’s carpal tunnel fix.

<< Come by Yellowlegs’ office so I can scold you in person

Aelin tucked her phone back inside her purse—she didn’t need to wait for a reply, he’d be here.

In the meantime, she self-soothed the discomfort in her throat and stomach with deep breaths while she didn’t have her IV, and thought of what the hell she’d tell Rowan when she got home, now that it was after ten and she wasn’t ready to tell him about the baby yet.

If Rowan knew that she: (1) was at the hospital because her (2) pregnancy symptoms were overlapping with the (3) antidepressant withdrawal, so she was (4) throwing up so much it was hard to keep food inside while also (5) freaking out because Baby #2 could potentially wreck years of progress Aelin has put into her mental heath ever since Maisie was born…

It was safe to say that Aelin wasn’t eager to put all cards on the table for him right now.

Rowan will find a million things to worry about, whether they’re an actual concern or not. And if she does give him something to be concerned about… nope. Not happening. Aelin needed to get at least part of her shit together before he went all dadzilla on her.

On the other hand, she needed him. Also, Rowan might freak out, but she couldn’t lie just to shield him from a problem that regarded both of them, as a couple.

But hurried footsteps announced her resident’s arrival, so Aelin tucked those problems away for her near-future self.

“Hey, Doc!” Nox shouted, running her way. “Just finished the night round. What’s up?”

“Just feeling a bit under the weather.” She waved him off before he decided to doctor her. “Nothing much. Sorscha won’t give me an IV because I’m not on call, can you get one for me?”

“Again?” He asked, mentioning her mid-surgery break earlier today. “Are you sick?”

“Not sick enough to let you fix Mr. Faliq’s wrist unsupervised, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He raised his brows and had his palms facing up and tried to clarify, “That’s not—“

“And I’m not trusting that wrist with a sleep-deprived resident.” She circled a finger in the general direction of his bloodshot eyes. “You better be looking sharp and ready at the OR tomorrow, Dr. Owen.”

He pointed at the bags under his eyes. “I think these will take a lot more than one night to fade away, Doc.”

Aelin humphed and quickly scribbled down the components she needed for her fluids. Truth was, she liked Nox. Being older than the average resident—older than her, even—he was fun company, but not a buffoon like some of her students. As an attending surgeon, she needed to give him a hard time sometimes to establish dominance, but Aelin could easily see herself befriending him once they were equals in the surgery food chain.

She handed him the note. “Would you get these at the pharmacy and find me at the observation room?”

He nodded and scanned the note. “Sure, and about tomorrow—wait. I know this. My sister would take it when she was—” Nox’s pulled down eyebrows went impossibly up as his eyes widened. He cleared his throat and schooled his face into neutrality. “But that’s none of my business, is it?”

“Good call,” Aelin said, and tilted her chin to the general direction of the pharmacy. “Now go.”

˜˜

“Are you sure you can drive like this? I don’t mind staying longer,” Nox said at the observation room, right after he didn’t let Aelin stab the IV needle into herself.

There was a 50/50 chance he was sucking up to her to get more surgeries, but it wasn’t bothering her as much as it would on a regular day.

“It’s a five-minute drive,” she reminded him. It went without saying that Aelin lived at the Air Force gated community, most doctors here did.

He hummed, still checking everything before he left. “And you’re alone with Little Bean tonight?”

“Nope.” She leaned back on the recliner chair, biting back a smile. “Papa Bean and I moved in together. Now I can be sick without worrying about Little Bean.” She wiggled her eyebrows, gloating about this newfound small luxury.

Not that she didn’t have help per se but, a year ago, Aelin would rather overdose on painkillers than ask Rowan for help.

Before she could continue conversation with Nox, a figure oddly similar to Papa Bean himself showed up in her peripheral vision.

She saw him before he saw her. Nox closed the partitions that separated her from the other patients, but not the one that faced the corridor—which allowed her to see Rowan’s back as he talked to a nurse at another part of the room.

Why on earth was he here? This wasn’t protocol. Aelin wasn’t injured in a way that made the staff make calls—hell, she wasn’t even officially a patient, she pretty much made her resident smuggle some fluids and medicated herself here.

She glared at Nox, but he looked just as confused. By the way he was coddling her, Aelin doubted he’d call Rowan behind her back. Which led to one other suspect.

When Rowan found her and his features relaxed in relief, all murderous thoughts about Sorscha vanished.

“Gods, Aelin.” He sighed, then hurried to her chair and cradled her head to his chest, ducking his face into the top of her head as if in this moment he wanted to embrace her with every inch of his body. “What happened?”

The snap of Nox’s gloves as he threw them away caught her attention before she could reply. “I should go. See you around, Doc.” He nodded at Rowan. “Captain.”

Rowan briefly thanked him for assisting Aelin, closed the last partition to give them some privacy and brought a chair closer to hers. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing much. I just felt a bit under the weather and stopped by to get some fluids. Do you remember who notified you about me being here? That’s not protocol.”

He blinked. His gaze slowly hardened until his jaw worked, and that’s how Aelin realized it was the wrong thing to say.

“A friend of Aedion’s that works here told him and asked if you’re okay, and then he called me asking if you’re okay.”

Fucking hospital gossip.

Rowan quirked a brow up and crossed his arms, waiting her to say something, which she didn’t, so he continued, “Now, imagine how I felt when I didn’t know if you’re okay or why you’re in the hospital, because you completely disappeared on me all evening—“

Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but Rowan held a finger up to signal that he wasn’t finished, in a way annoyingly similar to the one he used with Maisie. “And, after I made Aedion run to our house to watch Maisie and drove like a maniac here, imagine how I felt when I find you hanging out with your resident, right next to your phone, just not feeling in the mood to tell me you’re in the goddamn hospital?!” His voice got harsher and uneven in the end, an indicator that he was trying to keep it down given their surroundings.

Knowing her boyfriend, she could imagine very well. It wasn’t pretty but, in her defense, the hospital visit was completely unplanned and part of some news he wasn’t supposed to know yet.

Aelin nodded, her demeanor serious but not chastened. “I understand this isn’t ideal—“

“Ideal?”

A sigh. “I understand you’re pissy, then.”

“No, pissy doesn’t cover a fraction of it. The entire evening, where were you?”

“I had things to do.”

“And I suppose you’re not going to tell me until you want to?”

Aelin didn’t reply, and she was relieved when he kept quiet as well. If she was going through an inquisition, it was better to do it at home, away from prying ears. Besides, she was almost done with the IV.

As they waited to go home, Rowan’s face—along with the crossed arms and brooding aura—spoke volumes. And while she understood why he was upset with her, whatever Rowan wanted to know, he could wait until the pregnancy reveal tomorrow. Aelin was so not spilling everything now at the worst moment ever.

Baby #1 revealed in jail and Baby #2 at the ER. Mala help Baby #3 if they keep this shit up.

But then an inkling of why he might be this upset hit her, along with memories of her and Nox hanging out when he arrived. This sounds like such a silly concern.

Just like co-parenting a child with him meant dealing with millions of silly concerns that took over his days.

Shit.

Aelin wished she had the self-control to stand the weird vibe, but she didn’t. Without letting Rowan notice, she took off her own needle and disposed what was left of the fluids before she had finished it. She did take enough to get through the night, which was her goal.

Once they were in the parking lot, she broke their silence.

“I was alone—the whole time. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rowan cast her a sideways glance of poorly-concealed disapproval, as his steps towards the car didn’t falter. His jaw worked.

“I never doubted your fidelity, Aelin. Knowing you, I’d be less worried if that was the case—at least I’d know what the fuck you’re up to.”

Aelin reared back, his words hitting her like a blow.

“You don’t mean that.”

Rowan got inside the car without sparing her a glance, but she followed suit, undeterred. Sat on the passenger seat and decided to spill every part he needed to know at the moment without waiting for his reaction.

“I had a long day at work and needed to clear my head, so I went to the mall.” Not a lie. “Then I threw up on the way home and stopped by the hospital for some anti-nausea medication. Dr. Blackbeak changed my antidepressant, I’ll have withdrawal symptoms for the next few weeks.”

Among other causes for nausea.

“You didn’t tell me—about any of it.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“You went to Dr. Blackbeak almost two days ago, Aelin.”

Rowan’s speed wasn’t nausea-friendly, and he must be really pissed off to forget about his safety-first driving style.

“Well, you know—“

“Why did she change your medication?”

“I’m not the shrink, am I?”

His sharp turn brought a taste of bile to her throat. Shit, couldn’t he give time for her meds to work before driving this unhinged?

Rowan stopped at a red light, then rested his head against the steering wheel—more like banged his head against it, but the quick horn didn’t have many cars to disturb at this late hour.

With a heartbreaking waver to his voice that tugged at her heartstrings, he said, “I’m trying so fucking hard to be understanding, to be a better partner, to be someone you deserve, but I can’t be that to you if you won’t let me.”

Guilt. Aelin closed her eyes to take some deep breaths for her rebellious stomach, letting the raw emotion of his statement wash away the confidence about the way she acted tonight. Flashes of Rowan’s worried glances and tentative conversations about Aelin’s mood he started with her the past weeks came to mind.

It was only then that Aelin realized Rowan noticed every symptom of her pregnancy—the fatigue, mood swings, change in appetite—before she did herself. He just assumed she was having a depressive episode instead.

He saw all the signs and decided she was depressed instead of carrying his baby. The Buzzard.

Aelin never lied to him about Maisie or things she deemed important for him to know, but she did lie to him about her mental health. Repeatedly. Over the course of six years. This being the main reason that broke them apart.

Knowing this, she could see more clearly the reason behind his outburst.

Aelin slowly reached his shoulder and caressed it with her thumb. “Baby, I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

Lies, lies, lies. Almost—but she wasn’t telling him whole thing now.

The light turned green and he picked up speed, to her stomach’s chagrin.

“Aelin, that’s not how ma—how a relationship works. You can’t let me know about shit like this only when it’s convenient for you, and I thought we were over this.”

Cold sweat broke on Aelin’s skin, and she felt lucky she could process what he said over the lightheadedness.

“I know, baby. And you’re the first person I go to, always. But sometimes I feel more comfortable sorting things out on my own first.”

Rowan let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen? Me freaking out because someone else told me you’re at the hospital?”

With breaths too shallow, her mouth flooded with saliva and made her jaw clench.

“Stop the car.”

“What?” Rowan asked, confused.

“Stop the car,” she repeated with no energy to shout, which he complied—too abruptly.

Aelin practically jumped off the car once it stopped and knelt on the grass of their gated community, trying to take deep breaths as her diaphragm contracted itself, preparing her for what was to come.

Her boyfriend quickly circled the car and crouched next to her. His trademark frown was frownier than ever. “What’s going on?”

“I just. Took. Nausea shit,” she managed to say, still breathless. “Could you not drive like a maniac?”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, baby.” He held her hair. “All this from the medication withdrawal?”

Aelin couldn’t answer even if she wanted to, given her current state. A moment or two later she sat—more like slumped—on the grass, potentially ruining her jeans, feeling glad that there was a lot of dry heaving, but she didn’t throw up. Thank you, modern medicine.

She knew she had to address what Rowan said tonight, but it must be nearing midnight, Aelin had surgery first thing in the morning, and she was so incredibly tired.

An entire day’s worth of fatigue crashed down on her, just as much as her pride vanished. She didn’t bother trying to hide any of it from Rowan anymore, who watched her with hawk-like attention.

“Can we fight later?” Aelin said with a pleading look.

“Of course, baby.” Rowan scooped her up from the floor and effortlessly sat her on the passenger seat with the seatbelt on.

Aelin never thought she’d ever enjoy being coddled like this, but she’s had a rough day, and she needs her person.

Back in the driver’s seat, Rowan gave her a once-over before turning the car on, but Aelin stopped him once more. They’d get home to Aedion demanding answers, then crash and wake up to Maisie being loud in the morning and a whole day of work. Some things needed to be said first, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

“I just want you to know that I know that what happened was very uncool of me. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll get over it.” He gave her a watery smile. “Do you wanna talk about it just the two of us, or should I book an appointment with Yrene?”

Aelin wrinkled her nose, playfully discarding the idea of an early trip to the family therapist’s office. “Just us.”

“Whatever you need.”

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[leiawritesstories]

i am SO NORMAL about hozier's new songs

[kaleidoscopic-disaster]

not to be rude but it really makes me cackle thinking how a chorus of dragons is basically got but queer and on crack and also technically sci-fi and also does not make full sense until you’ve completely read and reread the whole series. jenn lyons ily.

[galactic-rhea]

The Midi-chlorian essay only a few asked

(or, How Is Anakin Skywalker a walking biological horror)

So I made this post and a few were actually interested, also i needed to write down all of this or I wouldn't be able to sleep.

The way I went just from "hahaha they're just mitochondria before becoming forced symbionts and losing all autonomy" to the Medical Horror that would be Anakin Skywalker .

Let me explain, going from this theory, let me tell you that the average mammal cell can have between 800 to 2000 mitochondria. In Star Wars we're told that the average living being, has 2500 midi-chlorians per cell. The difference isn't that big, so we can assume that mid-chlorians are smaller than our real-life mitochondria, and it would make sense since the mitochondria have the best possible living conditions, whereas midi-chlorians, if they're free-life bacteria (as in, they aren't forced to live in the cells of another being) it would make sense if they're just smaller, let's say, sneaky, to increment their chances at living.

So Midi-chlroains don't just produce ATP, Force sensitives have a minimum of 4000-5000 midi-chlorians per cell. That's...a big number, but not very horrific. See, the amount of mitochondria is related to how much energy the organic tissue requires. The cells of muscular tissue and neurons are the ones with the highest mitochondria count. Also the mitochondria in the neurons are mobile and flexible, because just thinking burns ATP.

We can assume that using The Force burns insane amounts of ATP, so I assume it makes sense for Force Sensitives to have big amounts of Midi-chlorians. But! The problem with this is that we're told that the Midi-chlorians are attracted to the force, not born within it. But any multicelullar organism (with a few exceptions) need the mitochondria. Mitochondria have their own ADN, and they're always inherited from the mother, so we can assume that there's two different types of midi-chlorians: The ones any normal being borns with, and the ones that get attracted because of the baby's force potential. Either that, or both the mithocondria and the midi-chlorians exist simultaneously.

Which means that Jedi (or anyone who wants to know, really) would need to take several blood tests for midi-chlorians count. Because a newborns midi-chlorian count wouldn't be the same through a babie's infancy. UNLESS...The midi-chlorian infection (yes, i'm calling it that) ocurrs already since the pregnancy, if the force is strong enough for a fetus to be a possible force sensitive in the future, then I guess the midi-chlorians would get attracted to the parent during the pregnancy as well.

WHICH BTW, IT FITS WITH PADMÉ BECOMING FORCE SENSITIVE, at least for a while, like the discarded ROTS concepts. But also, would mean, that poor Shmi became a hella strong force-sensitive person as well, at least for a while.

And it would be a biological advantage if we take this route, because it would possibly make the pregnant being stronger and with a higher supply of energy.

It also explains why the jedi would only take a single blood test when the force sensitive is just a baby, because the infection is already settled. It can also be argued, that any baby born with a fairly high amount of midi-chlorians (like the 4000 per cell count minimum) would only increase, if only slightly, as the force sensitive grows because the midi-chlorians will get attracted regardless.

There must be a limit, or more like, a balance, that the midi-chlorian and the force potential of the individual met. As in, there's just enough force within the individual for a certain number of midi-chlorian, and all of this is probably decided already during the fetus formation or very early on the baby's life.

Now, Anakin...would be an abomination. Because his cells are so full of midi-chlorians, that it's scary to think how the cells aren't exploding or downright giving malfunctions to the rest of the cellular organelles.

If we go by the route of "midi-chlorians start infecting the force sensitive host mother during pregnancy" it means there were high chances of a misscarriage or an incompatibility between Shmi and Anakin, because holy cow, Anakin is just too much.

But you know what also, it could potentially mean? That Padmé's pregnancy was a risky one, fron the start -slowly nods-. Luke and Leia's force potential was lower than Anakin's, but there's still a lot to unpack there in terms of compatibility. We are never given the exact count of midichlorian count for the twins, but let's pretend it was low enough for Padmé to not inmediatly have a miscarriage. That, and also, maybe, Padmé isn't strong in the force to manipulate it, but maybe just close enough for the pregnancy to be carried to term, let's say, her midi-chlorian count is 3900, close enough.

Something similar with Shmi, I'm taking for granted that she also had a difficult and risky pregnancy (on top of it being a pregnancy she had no agency). It becomes worse because, unlike the twins, Anakin is just...50% human. The only possible genes Anakin has are from Shmi. So he's probably...genetically, almost a clone of Shmi but with a massive infection of Midi-chlorians (yes, this implies that Anakin has homogametic sex chromosomes, aka XX, there's no other possible explanation because he literally only has Shmi's genes to work with!).

But he's Space Jesus, though,so let's pretend that the "no father genes" helped with this and allowed Anakin to grow into a...normal-ish baby despite it all.

Midi-chlorians must be extremelly small, closer to the size of a virus in this case, viruses vary on size and the way they infect the cells is by hijacking the nucleus, which then can produce more viruses instead of its own proteins. This can vary anywhere between a production of 50.000 to 100.000 viruses produced by infected cells.

Which, btw, still fits somewhat with the mitochondria theory, because mitochondrias are believed to have been from a genus of bacteria called Rickettsia, which used to be believed to be the in-between of Viruses and Bacteria due their small size and extreme endosymbiotism.

Still, we aren't even told how many midi-chlorians Anakin had, just that it was over 20.000 and thus the chart couldn't even register it. Even if we're just counting 21.000 midi-chlorians per cell, that's...a lot. Even if the relationship is symbiotic and positive in nature, that's excessive, an infected cell will usually die faster. So Anakin's cellular death must be on record time.

The life span of a cell varies highly depending of the type of cells, white cells can live about 2 days, others about 5, and then there's others that live about 6 years in average.

Forget all of that, Anakin's cells die anywhere between a few hours and a week. Which also means a super fast regeneration and healing (Hey! that tracks, that's how he didn't die even though he should have, on several ocassions).

But that's not the only problem here, the production of energy is strong with this one, too strong. Again this should make the cells burst due too much ATP because of an increase on osmotic pressure. Anakin is producing so much damn ATP (which we can assume it becomes glycogen stored in muscles and fat tissue) his need to be active and just doing something skyrockets, he might as well be the equivalent of being high on meth since birth.

The accelerated cellular formation and death, gives me the horrific idea that Anakin was probably one of these babies that are born premature, but also that he probably was bron with, idk, teeth and already lots of hair. Maybe that's also why he got so tall of all sudden, lots of cellular grow, huh.

Anakin seems to age normally by what are we given by canon. So despite it all, his life-span or aging doesn't seem to be compromised, this is probably because of how strong he is with the Force. In the sense that...he needs the midi-chlorians to handle this much power, but he also needs the force to handle with that many midi-chlorians, otherwise he would have been already born dead.

See, ageing has a lot to do with stem cells. Anakin's stem cells need to be highly prolific and potent to keep cellular division happening at such a high rate, we can infer that any force sensitive has potent stem cells, so the force must inherently affect stem cells. So Anakin's stem cells must be monstruosities in efficiency. If Anakin donated stem cells to someone else, that person would either have a strong inhumne reaction against them or they would get some of the worst cancer ever seen. Again I'm no expert, but the fact Anakin doesn't develop cancer at all as soon as he was born is already impressive. The rate in which Anakin's cells die must be ridiculous, even has a baby, he must have required tons of energy and endure lots of stress which...tracks. The fact he gets electroshocked, burned, gravely wounded or whatever every week or so, must help him to no develop some cancer, which is a bit funny.

But it would also mean he can go long periods of time without eating or resting like...a normal human. Not saying that he doesn't need it, though, but his neural activity and use of the force must be high at all times to burn out that much energy. Theoretically, the production of glycose and glycogen helps him through long periods without sleep or food so he doesn't get long-term damage, or at the very least the ability to keep going, like I said, maybe is like being on drugs all the time; there's still the need to sleep and eat, but he can push his body to keep surviving beyond what's considered normal without having long-term damage. (Don't get happy, this isn't taking into account all of the stuff that happens to him, lol)

The balance between burning too much energy and not burning enough must be insane as well. As Vader, a lot of this probably watered down because all of his energy must be saved for...you know, surviving all the torture. But as a young teen/man amist war? Oh boy.

I'm not an expert, but I'm theorizing that putting Anakin in an induced sleeep must be...fricking hard. Painkillers that work on him? fricking hard. Anesthesia? Probably the same used for big animals, he must be insane and awful for a doctor to work with! Just imagine it, he probably gets injured in such a way that would have anyone else fall unconscious, but Anakin remains awake and with tremendous amounts of adrenaline triggered by a stress response sustented by the extreme amounts of energy that the midichlorians produce.

When it happens in the central nervious system, excess of ATP can produce neuronal dysfunction. In fact, many degenerative mental illnesses have a lot to do with a malfunction of the mitochondrias. There's a corelation also with neurodivergency sometimes, like autism or ADHD. I will leave it there.

And with all of this...I also conclude that Anakin, on general basis, doesn't like sugary things and doesn't even rationalize why, but is because he has already enough glycose. Having something sugary probably gives him a headache.

God what has Star Wars done to me.

[leiawritesstories]

excuse me 😭😭😭😭😭😭

~ Rowaelin Month Day 15: What if…? ~

*cracks fingers* Alright. Let’s cause some trouble. An alternate end to Heir of Fire if you will. Italics at the start come from the book.

@rowaelinscourt

~~~~~

“I do. Until my last breath, and the world beyond. To whatever end.”

She would have paused then, asked him again if he really wanted to do this, but Maeve was still there, a shadow lurking behind them. That was why he had done it now, here—so Celaena could not object, could not try to talk him out of it.

It was such a Rowan thing to do, so pigheaded, that she could only grin as she drew the dagger across her wrist, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. She offered her arm to him.

With surprising gentleness, he took her wrist in his hands and lowered his mouth to her skin.

For a heartbeat, something lightning-bright snapped through her and then settled—a thread binding them, tighter and tighter with each pull Rowan took of her blood. Three mouthfuls—his canines pricking against her skin—and then he lifted his head, his lips shining with her blood, his eyes glittering and alive and full of steel.

There were no words to do justice to what passed between them in that moment…

~~~~~

“Quite a performance you’ve put on, Aelin,” Maeve drawled. There was something unsettling in her tone, something that had Celaena on edge. She had won this round against Maeve, outwitted and outplayed, leaving with everything that she wanted and could take. So why then was the Queen of fae so smug as she turned towards her throne, dark dress splaying elegantly as she sat down. “You’ve threatened to turn my people to ash, you’ve taken a member of my court, but you are still a child. Young to this world and the secrets it holds. You have your fire, but there are other powers you have yet to contend with.”

Rowan stepped closer, not in comfort but preparing to fight. Celeana was his to protect now and she did not doubt that he would put himself in harm's way to defend her. The slightest hint of threat from the Queen and he would use his body to protect Celaena first, then whatever else he could get his hands on.

“I have something for you, Rowan,” Maeve said, a spider’s smile on her lips. “A parting gift.”

“I want nothing,” Rowan said, his voice strong but breathless. The injuries inflicted by the twins were still unattended and would be incredibly painful no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

“Oh, I think you will want this,” Maeve said. Without turning to the other males in the room she commanded, “Leave us.”

The five of them did, silent and without expression as they obeyed. Without her cadre Maeve was no less of a threat, both Celaena and Rowan stood at the ready, waiting for whatever she decided to strike with next. Maeve stood and there was a silent demand to follow.

Do we? Aelin asked, glancing up at Rowan.

Her blood was still on his lips, the sight of it almost disappearing as he contemplated. I’m unsure.

But you want to.

Rowan nodded once. I’m curious to see what it is.

That was all the answer that Celaena needed. She took Rowan’s hand and followed after Maeve who had kept walking, knowing they would come. After a while Maeve led them to a door, behind it a narrow hallway and staircase that went down. Their footsteps echoed on the stone steps, none of them speaking. Behind her Rowan’s breaths turned ragged and Celaena wished that she could take the time to heal him.

They came to another door, made of wood and looked ancient. Maeve laid her palm on it, murmuring soft words that were followed by a ripple of power. The door opened and beyond was a room, the darkness inside pitch black. Still holding onto Rowan, Celaena held up her other hand, flames blazing. Not deterred by the dark, Maeve stepped into the room, disappearing from sight. Looking to Rowan one more time for confirmation, hand in hand, they entered the dark together.

At first even with her fae sight Celaena couldn’t see anything. It took a few moments to adjust to the shadows that seemed to fight against her fire. And then in the centre of the room something glimmered. A silver surface reflected the flames. From what Celeana could garner from the outline she could see, the object was rectangular and about the length of a body. Her gut sunk as she realised what it was: a coffin. She threw her flames wide, illuminating the entire room. Something was very wrong, Celaena could feel it.

“Thank you niece,” Maeve said, voice echoing in the domed room. “It has been centuries since they last saw light.”

Celeana’s sight adjusted again, and she couldn't decipher much besides the fact that whatever it was on the dais was made of glass. Letting go of her hand Rowan stepped around her to get closer and between her and the potential threat. The sight of his ravaged back had bile rising in Celeana’s throat and her flames burning brighter as her anger flared. She’d kill Maeve for that— and all her other sins.

Then Rowan stumbled, but not from pain. He seemed to be caught between lunging forward and reeling back. “How?”

“Fae children are precious, even to me,” Maeve said.

Celaena doubted anything was sacred to Maeve, but the words had made her curious. It took three steps to get to Rowan’s side and she was able to see through the glass. He was utterly still, staring at what was in front of them, an unreadable expression on his face. Celaena followed that gaze to see what Maeve had deigned to gift the Prince.

Oh gods.

The coffin was made up of panes of glass, each piece joined with ornate streams of silver. The beauty of it was startling, a work of art, but what held Celaena’s unwavering interest was what was inside. Of who was inside.

There was a fae female, her brown hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her head. She looked as though she was asleep, dressed in a white flowing gown embroidered with flowers made from an iridescent thread. The female didn’t hold Celaena’s attention for long, because there, tucked into the crook of the female’s arm was an infant. The child was small, tiny hands tucked under their chin. They too looked as though they were asleep, peaceful and frozen in time.

Celeana watched for signs of life. Both figures were unmoving, eyes closed and still. All her focus went into searching for something—anything—that would prove they were alive. The hold Rowan had on himself broke and he lunged forward, his hand splaying on the glass, residue of blood tarnishing the glass. He was watching with the same intensity Celaena was, even more so. Maeve’s soft venomous laughter echoed through the room, filling it. Only she could be amused by something as cruel as this.

Then there it was. The thump of two heartbeats, perfectly in sync, slow and quiet. The temperature plummeted and Rowan’s entire body shuddered in relief and he fell to his knees.

Celaena didn’t need to be told who lay in the coffin. This was Lyria Whitethorn, Rowan’s mate, who’s tragic story was inked into his skin. And the child was theirs and she wondered if they would be blessed with the Whitetorn silver hair. Celaena tried to process what she was seeing, what this would mean for her and Rowan and their journey forward. An agonised sob torn through the quiet of the room as snowflakes glittered in the air. At that sound, Celeana found that her heart was broken too.

“A reward for all your years of dedicated service, Rowan,” Maeve said, coming to stand on the opposite side of the coffin. “Your family.”

~~~~~

……. Yes I felt like breaking hearts

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[leiawritesstories]

i just drank a box (500ml) of wine let's see how this prompt fill goes

[kaleidoscopic-disaster]

i really do think there is so much in a chorus of dragons that is meme worthy

[leiawritesstories]

OH MY GOSH WE'RE GETTING MORE 👀👀 *squeals*

“Give me your glove. Quickly.” bahahaha he wants to be a criminal now????? i'm not complaining teeheehee

Aelin snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” MISS GIRLLLLLLLLL

“If we come from a long line of Terrasen royalty, then he comes from a long line of people who tried to steal the throne from us." he's so disgusting omg ICKY

If I turned you in, I wouldn’t get to go on another date with you and we can’t have that, can we? I AM SCREAMING

Lovestruck

Day 2 of Rowaelin month- spies/heist AU

A follow up to Lovesick- highly recommend reading that one before this one. Otherwise you'll probably be lost

Masterlist

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: stealing, small injury

“Aelin?” Rowan’s heart completely dropped to his stomach. Why was the woman he had seen just hours ago sitting on his fire escape, clad in black and laying next to a broken statue like she was on some sort of fucking art heist?

“Ro..I…Agh.” Aelin clutched her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was in pain. “Fuck.”

Rowan could only stare. 

“I swear this isn’t what it looks like.” Aelin’s turquoise eyes met his own. She shifted her hand behind her to sit up more sturdily but a hiss of pain escaped her lips instead.

  And at that moment, Rowan really couldn’t have cared whether she was in the middle of stealing the fucking Declaration of Independence, he couldn’t bear to see her in pain. “Fuck, Aelin. Come here.” He pushed his window up just far enough that he could reach out and pull her toward him. He picked her up with a gentleness that surprised even him given the circumstances, watching for any injuries or flinches of pain. Setting her down on the couch, he started to make his way to the kitchen but thought better of it and held his hand out to Aelin, instead. “Give me your glove.” 

“What?” 

He made a motion with his hand. “Give me your glove. Quickly.” Hesitantly, she did as she was asked, handing her black leather glove over to Rowan. Even though it was at least three sizes too small, Rowan shoved as much of his hand into the glove as he could and went once again to the window. Leaning out, he gently picked up the pieces of the broken statue, making sure that he got every little piece before closing the window.

As he turned back to Aelin, he could tell she was gobsmacked. 

“Why are you helping me?”

Rowan just sighed but didn’t answer her question. “How about we start with me wrapping that wrist and then you can tell me what you were doing on my fire escape at two in the morning with a suspiciously familiar statue.” 

While she didn’t necessarily look happy, Aelin nodded. “Deal.”

“Can you walk?” At his question, Aelin nodded, and got up to follow him to the kitchen.

She sat at one of the high-top stools at his kitchen island and he could feel her piercing gaze on his back as he rifled through the cabinets to find a wrap for her wrist. Returning to her once he found it, he grabbed her hand, inspecting for any cuts or scrapes. Finding none, he started pushing at her skin in different areas. She hissed as his fingers met the already-forming bruise.

“Luckily, I think it’s just a sprain. I’ll wrap it but if it feels any different tomorrow, you should go get an x-ray.” 

Aelin snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” 

Rowan raised his eyebrows at that. But still he said nothing, trying and failing to gather his thoughts around this strange, beautiful, and mysterious woman. Gently, he began wrapping her wrist with the bandages.

“So you just keep a wrist wrap in your kitchen?”

“I’m a doctor, remember? I have medical supplies all over my apartment.” Aelin let out a huff of breath at that. “Are you going to tell me why I found you out there, looking as if you were falling from the heavens?”

Aelin sighed, gathering her thoughts. “I swear to you, it was not what you think. I wasn’t stealing the statue from the art gallery above.” Rowan met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I was stealing the statue but I swear I had a good reason.” 

Aelin took a deep breath to steal herself. “I come from a long line of Terrasen royalty. Of course, we don’t have a monarchy anymore so I’m just a normal citizen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about my family’s history. My great-great grandfather had a collection of artifacts that dated all the way back to King Brannon’s line. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Rowan nodded in affirmation. “Well that broken statue was one of the last known pieces from that time period. My great-great grandfather passed it down to my great grandfather, he to my grandfather, and then it should’ve passed onto my father. But this guy, Arobynn Hamel, took it instead”

“The Arobynn Hamel that owns the art gallery upstairs?”

Aelin nodded. “If we come from a long line of Terrasen royalty, then he comes from a long line of people who tried to steal the throne from us. So I guess he felt like he was entitled to this particular statue and when my grandfather died. Imagine our surprise when the will was read and our family heirloom was suddenly passed down to a guy no one could stand.”

"Sounds fishy.” 

“It was. There was no way that my grandfather would have given it to him. None. I grew up being a part of my grandfather’s life and I still remember his disdain for the man. Without my dad here to stop me anymore, I guess I just wanted to have a piece of our family history back.”

“So why did you feel like you needed to do this in the dead of night instead of fighting for it via legal routes?”

Aelin’s rueful smile slowly grew into a smirk. “Where would the fun be in that?”

Rowan couldn’t hold back his huff of laughter. This woman. She was going to be the death of him. Aelin’s face suddenly got serious. “Are you mad?”

Rowan furrowed his brows. “Mad? No.” He sighed. “Concerned? Yes, of course.”

Aelin swallowed loudly. “Are you going to turn me in?” 

Rowan really tried to make a good show of contemplating. But his strength when it came to this woman was nonexistent. He caved much sooner than he would’ve liked and feared he gave away much of his emotion in the process. “Of course not. If I turned you in, I wouldn’t get to go on another date with you and we can’t have that, can we?”

Aelin beamed. Slowly, as if he were a skittish deer, Aelin leaned in and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you, Rowan.” 

Tilting his head so that he could place a gentle kiss upon her lips, Rowan whispered “You’re welcome.”

The oven beeping broke them out of their little bubble that wholly encompassed them. It was at that moment that he could tell that Aelin finally smelled the melting chocolate and sugary goodness. 

Slowly, like a cat, her eyes met his, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Are those for me?”

Rowan shrugged, nonchalant. “Maybe.” 

Aelin softly swatted at him. “You’re a dork. But…” Her gaze was piercing as she pursed her lips, debating on her next statement. “But you’re my dork.”

Rowan could feel something in his chest alight at her statement. He was her dork. Given that he just found her on his fire escape after she stole a priceless heirloom, warning bells probably should have been going off in Rowan’s head. But all he could think was, “And you’re a thief. But…” He pecked her nose. “You’re my thief.”

A/N: Happy Day 2 of Rowaelin Month! I have some stuff planned though none of it written but I'm glad to have even gotten this piece out!

[leiawritesstories]

Leia! What is your favorite thing so far about "Until Proven Guilty"?

What's been the best thing about writing it? Or an approach to the characters you like in this adaptation?

Hi! You just made my whole day 😭🥰 thank you so much

Is it too vague to say that everything about Until Proven Guilty is my favorite....yeah, it is 😂 but at the same time, everything makes me so happy except the crap engagement lol. The characters, the plots and scheming (it's not me, it's Aelin), the interactions, the crazy crack "science," and the way Aelin is 10000% unapologetic, it all makes my writer heart so happy.

I've had some truly unexpected character moments with this fic and that's been just the best! Like, I went into the idea/planning stage knowing and wanting to explore the Celaena side of Aelin--the gritty, darker, more unhinged side of her character--and even I wasn't expecting when this Aelin decided to embrace her characterization so fully. She's a little unhinged but in the best way, and it's been SO much fun exploring that side of her and working with it while still trying not to make her (too) OOC. Specifically this: I was NOT expecting to have Aelin and Aedion be anything resembling partners (my original plan had been to have Aedion working with Rowan) but my little characters got away from me and decided they were going to work together but also bicker, and that's been both a joy and a pain to write. A joy, because it makes me happy not to tear the Ashryver family apart (that's a lie, just look at Stick Season haha), and a pain, because it created a giant plot hole that I can't talk about because it would be such a huge spoiler 🫣🫣

Also, my lovely beta @house-of-galathynius has been an absolute joy to work with 💕 having her feedback and thoughts has meant everything to me and to the story. this is definitely the most complicated and heavy fanfic I've ever written, and it's also the first time I've had a beta reader, and I love everything about it.

thank you so much (again) for the ask my friend, you really did make my day

[kaleidoscopic-disaster]

idk if anyone ever calls him it but jere just. yk. FEELS right.

[leiawritesstories]

stick season by noah kahan is so heartwrenching

let's make it into a fic heheh