#imagine something like that actually happens

[bloodnight-blaze]

“ who cares, baby? i think i wanna marry you. ”

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.

synopsis: you marry the love of your life.

notes: started off as silly thoughts for my friend and then turned into this so. take it. enjoy it.

warnings: not canon to the story of the game, self-indulgent, weddings, sickeningly sweet fluff, they all cry lol, it's short and it's sweet, reader does wear a dress so sorry if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, petnames used: starlight (x), sunshine (z), angel (r), princess (s).

XAVIER — certainly fantasized about getting married, but it was never something he actually expected to happen. Not until he met you. It wasn't love at first sight, but when you two entered a relationship, he could just see himself marrying you.

When he proposed, he had been so nervous that he barely slept the night before, which is saying something. But you accepted with a bright smile, and the man nearly smothered you to death with a hug. The mere thought of marrying you has him smiling, honestly.

He doesn't care how big or small the wedding is, though when it turns out to be a small wedding he finds he prefers it that way. There's an air of excitement at the wedding, most of the guests being your own friends and family since there wasn't anyone for him to invite.

Xavier knew he was going to cry. There's no denying it, he knew he'd cry at some point during the day because, I mean... he's marrying you. He's the luckiest man alive. He just thought he'd hold strong a little longer, but the tears were falling when you walked down the aisle in your breathtaking dress.

His gaze was drawn to you the entire time. Nothing else mattered but you. The way the fairy lights bathed you in this beautiful golden glow, the way you smiled at him with all the love in the world... it was like you contained galaxies in your eyes.

The vows were short and sweet, and when the officiant says you two can kiss, he was quick to gently cup your face in his hands. He could only hope the kiss he pressed against your lips conveyed the sheer and utter adoration he felt for you.

This was the beginning of a new chapter for the two of you, and while he's sure nothing will change, he can't help but being excited at the idea of being able to refer to you as his spouse.

ㅤ— “ I love you, my starlight. Until every last star dies, I love you. ”

ZAYNE — had always known that he would marry you one day. Ever since you two were kids, he had imagined it. You're the only person he's ever loved, so if he ever got married, it would be to you or no one at all. It was only a matter of time, really.

The actual proposal was nothing big. You two had dinner at his place and the box with the ring rested in the place he knew you'd be able to see it. He hadn't been nervous when he proposed, but he can't deny that his heart was racing when he popped the question.

He'll definitely want the wedding to be small, just a couple of friends and family on each side. His parents were overjoyed to learn about his engagement and made sure to clear their schedule for the day of the wedding, and he had invited a few friends from work as well.

Zayne hadn't really wanted to cry, especially not in front of so many people, but he couldn't stop the tears from blurring his gaze when he saw you walking down the aisle. How could he not cry, when he felt so overwhelmed by his love for you?

It was the first time he saw you in your wedding dress as well, since you had been so adamant at keeping to tradition. You weren't lying when you said you would match your dress to his suit.

The bouquet of flowers in your hands only added to the beauty of... everything about you. So he won't deny that he cried, his gaze never once breaking from you even when the officiant started to speak.

He was able to keep his tears in check for the rest of the ceremony, and once you two were home and no longer wearing your wedding clothes, he found it near impossible to stray from your side for you long. His hand was almost always interlocked with yours, his finger absently brushing against the wedding wing that bound the two of you together.

ㅤ— “ You've always been the love of my life, sunshine. You always will. ”

RAFAYEL — never thought about marriage. It's not something that ever entered his mind, and he avoided attending any weddings just to dodge the inevitable 'so when will we get an invite to your wedding' he'll no doubt be met with. It isn't until you entered his life that he started to give it some thought.

And when he did decide to propose to you, it had been spur of the moment. He bought the ring on a whim months ago, and he kept it in his pocket almost every time you two went out, waiting for the perfect moment. That perfect moment just so happens to be you spending the night at his place, laughing at his smears paint on your face. The question slipped out, and he seemed more shocked than you.

He was adamant on keeping the thing small, even though Thomas wanted to invite a bunch of people once the man found out about the engagement.

The only people Rafayel was willing to invite was Thomas and a couple of crabs he befriended. Sure, your family and friends questioned why they were being seated with crabs, but it's not their wedding, now is it?

Before the wedding starts, he had gone to the bathroom to give himself a lengthy pep talk about how he was not going to cry at all at any point during the wedding. And for a good portion of it, he didn't. When you walked down the aisle wearing a beautiful dress that reminded him of the ocean, he didn't cry. When you guys shared your vows, exchanged rings, and kissed, he didn't cry.

No, Rafayel only cried when the first dance started. When the lights dimmed and you took his hand and pulled him close, he could feel his heart stuttering. You looked at him as if he were the only person in the world, like you never wanted to look away. The feeling of your wedding ring was cool against his skin, and it was impossible to stop the tears at this point.

He spent the entirety of your first dance together with his head buried in your shoulder just so people couldn't see his tears. Only you got to see him like this, because there's no one else he'd rather be vulnerable with.

ㅤ— “ I'd marry you over and over again, angel, until you get sick of me. ”

SYLUS — certainly thought marriage was something he'd never experience, given his lifestyle. What person would be insane enough to marry the leader of Onychinus, let alone date the man? You, apparently, because you became a pivotal part of his life.

He won't propose until he's absolutely certain that marrying him is something you'd be willing to do. Marrying him means really accepting the darker parts that come with being in a relationship with him, and he didn't want to force you into such a commitment. And when he does propose, he can't help the relief he feels when you say yes.

While the wedding isn't necessarily big, a few of his most trusted associates are invited, alongside your family and friends should you invite them. It's a strange mix of people, and a few of your friends will probably pull you to the side after the ceremony to ask what exactly it is that your husband does for a living.

For the most part, Sylus won't cry during the ceremony. Though, once you two start to recite your vows to each other, he does choke up a bit. Any man would be a fool not to tear up at the sight of their spouse professing their love to them. And it doesn't help that you're looking at him with pure and utter devotion in your gaze.

You were okay with who he was. With what he does. You weren't scared off by the darker aspects of his life, and you were vowing to stick by his side through whatever the world threw at you two. Crying only seemed natural. Other than the vows, Sylus stayed composed. Softer, than usual, but overall he kept his usual demeanor.

Truly, he thinks he could die happy now that he's married to you. The ring on his finger was a comfortable weight, and he'd find himself looking at it way more than he'd care to admit.

He spoiled you rotten before you two were married, but trust it'll only get worse now that you're his spouse. Anything you want, he'll get it for you. You deserve the whole world for wanting to spend the rest of your life with him.

ㅤ— “ I'm staring? How can I not stare at the key to my heart, princess? ”

[hmantegazzi]

Following what's described, this might be the way on which the VISOR manages to produce brain images: bypassing the eye and directly stimulating the optic nerve to produce phosphenes.

A more sophisticated implementation could be able to produce images based on optic sensors, so as to reproduce visible light sight, but on the other hand, it might be that phosphene generation simply doesn't allow for the resolution or latency to adequately serve that purpose, and that a wider spectrum but with low bandwidth signal would be an alternative compromise, resulting on something similar to what we find on the series.

If that were the case, one could wonder if the VISOR would still be able to project simpler shapes from non-imaging sources, like those screen readers that show one word at a time for high speed reading, so that the device would interface directly with the computers and project text in such a way, which would be functionally similar to our current TTS implementations, but technically entirely visual.

About expressions, and keeping in mind the kind of vision Geordi has, it would be really interesting if he, through brain plasticity and sheer ingenuity, had taught himself to infer them from hints that are "invisible" to sighted people, like slight variations in localised body temperature or skin conductivity. He could even have learnt to read Data's emotions that way, by noticing changes in circuitry activation patterns. In fact, it would be supremely interesting to see Geordi and Deanna practising their own ways to read emotions, and collaborating to verify each other's findings.

And thinking of adaptations, it would be really interesting to think on how the VISOR's technology could be used to develop them in ways that aren't available to blind people currently, like having the Engineering team wearing uniforms with a special thread or coating material combination, that is clearly distinct for each person through a VISOR, allowing Geordi to recognise his direct colleagues at first sight, instead of depending on their voices alone, which might not be as reliable in a noisy environment.

As a visually disabled person myself, one thing I wish TNG had done with Geordi is show his disability actually affecting how he functions in his daily life. For example, I can’t remember a single time in TNG where Geordi is shown as needing accommodations in his work environment. You might say that’s because his visor means that he can basically “see” normally and so he wouldn’t need accommodations, but I find this explanation frustrating.

For one thing, real life visually disabled people absolutely require accommodations to do most jobs, so if Geordi’s meant to be any kind of accurate reflection of the experiences of blind people, he should require some accommodations. For me at least, it isn’t some kind of wish fulfillment fantasy to see a visually disabled character who can do anything a sighted person can with no accommodations whatsoever. Instead, it feels like a denial of everything that being disabled has meant to me over my life. Disabled people are disabled. We have more difficulty doing certain tasks than an able-bodied person would – that’s what makes us disabled. We require changes to our environment in order to function well.

Also, literally just based on the in-universe information given about Geordi’s visor, it doesn’t make any sense to me that he wouldn’t require accommodations. Geordi’s visor is not really described as simulating vision, it is described as providing completely different sensory information about the physical properties of the world around him. I like to imagine the visor’s input as a kind of enhanced spatial awareness with a precise knowledge of where certain objects are, what their shape is, and what they’re made of. As TNG mentions several times, Geordi’s visor provides much more information than human eyes do, but, importantly, in the few episodes where the details of how Geordi’s visor works are discussed at all, it’s never described as providing purely visual information such as the color or reflectiveness of an object. I think that if Geordi faces a mirror, his visor will tell him there’s a piece of glass in front of him and he’ll know about how large it is and what material it’s made of, but he won’t be able to see his reflection in it, because the visor doesn’t provide that kind of visual information. This distinction is important to me, because it means that Geordi is still functionally blind with the visor, and it should mean that he interacts with the world differently from a sighted person.

For example, I would have loved if Geordi had been shown to be unable to recognize particular people until they spoke. All his visor tells him is that there’s a person in front of him and about what size and shape they are, but this isn’t generally enough information to determine a person’s identity. He canonically perceives Data as looking very different from an organic person which makes sense because Data is made of fully different material. And maybe Geordi can generally tell different species apart based on different body temperatures or something like that. But I really wish that Geordi had been shown at least a few times to need the sound of a person’s voice or some other cue to tell him who they were.

I also think it doesn’t make sense that Geordi can apparently read text on computer screens. How can he read if the visor doesn’t really provide visual information? A computer screen should just register as a flat piece of material. Geordi should have required some kind of accommodation to be able to use the computer screens. For example, maybe Geordi could use the computer entirely through voice commands, something that obviously already exists in the star trek world. Or he could use some kind of tactile display. The Voyager episode The Year of Hell shows that computer terminals on starships are able to utilize a tactile display that I’m guessing is somewhat similar to braille. I loved this mention in Voyager of tactile displays, because it indicates that Starfleet ships are probably automatically equipped with such accessibility devices. Geordi needing an accommodation as small as this would have gone really far in terms of making him feel like a genuine representation of a disabled character, at least to me.

[anisespice]

“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev. pt.2

one synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ kaku, rin, koko ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: koko’s is short but FOR A GOOD REASON I SWEAR lol i'm just happy it finally got written after MONTHS of keeping yall waiting. thank you once more for your patience and eagerness to read, hope you enjoy! :)))))

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow , @captaincyberqueen

Stumbling through the entry of his home with the help of the Haitani brothers, a drunk KAKUCHO groaned after they roughly tossed him onto his couch without an ounce of care, the youngest dusting off his hands and his counterpart adjusting his suit with a click of his tongue. “Can’t believe your light-weight ass let that idiot talk you into downing a whole bottle of bourbon.” 

Rindou scoffed. “I can’t believe we got stuck with taking him home.” 

Ran shrugged, heading for the kitchen. “Eh. Rather him than the walking pepto-bismol still passed out at the bar.” 

Kakucho gave another groan, lopsided with his face buried in the cushions. While his brother prepared a glass of water and pain pills, Rindou occupied himself by watching the wallowing man through a pitied lens. Shaking his head, he sighed, “Never seen him drink that much…Think something’s going on?” 

“In our line of work, I can only imagine what isn’t stressing him out.” 

“Yeah but…look at ‘em,” he gestured. “It’s pathetic.” 

“I can hear you...” Kakucho eventually spoke, although muffled in the cushions. 

“I’m aware.” Rindou replied. 

Ran snorted, setting the glass on the coffee table and the bottle of meds right next to it. He then leaned down to turn the dead-weighted drunk over with a grunt, placing him on his side. “There. Don’t need you choking on your vomit,” he pointed at the table, “take those and drink that whole glass. Call Koko tomorrow if you aren’t dead.” 

Kakucho groaned once more, sluggishly reaching for the glass and nearly knocking it over. Rindou hissed as he quickly grabbed it before it tipped over. With an irritated huff he grabbed the front of the younger male’s button up, and hauled him up to face him forward. It was difficult to keep him still, and Ran wasn’t looking to help anytime soon as he smirked at the display. Rindou cursed him and everything under the moon until he finally managed to sit Kakucho upright long enough to put the glass in his hands, guiding it to his mouth. 

He grunted, annoyed, “Drink.” 

The dark-haired gangster stared longingly into the rippling water, cheeks flushed, lips pouted. His mind began to wander, his one good eye glazed over as he gently swayed to silence. Rindou impatiently tapped his foot, “The hell’s wrong with you, drink it already.” 

“Patience, otouto. He probably doesn’t remember how.” Ran mocked, earning a side-eye before Kakucho proved him wrong by gulping down the entire glass. Once finished, he let it slip from his hands, landing on the ground with a sharp clatter. Ran clicked his tongue again, “You were supposed to take a pill with that.” 

“Fuck the pill..” Kakucho muttered, slowly falling back down to his side and curling up as best as his long legs would allow. “Leave me alone..” 

Rindou turned on his heel. “Don’t have to tell me twice-” 

“Actually, now I wanna know. Someone like you doesn’t indulge our activities, let alone participate. So, what gives?” 

Abruptly stopping in his tracks, Rindou turned back to shoot his brother an incredulous look, shocked he would reopen the door that was closing. He was ignored as Ran leaned against the back of the couch wearing a sly grin, feeling particularly nosy all of the sudden. Having never witnessed this side of his superior, it piqued his curiosity. Kakucho didn’t respond, didn’t even move. Ran would’ve guessed he passed out if not for the occasional hiccup he heard.

Rindou sighed heavily, since they didn’t appear to be leaving any time soon, coming back to sit in a chair with crossed arms. Ran continued to push until he found the correct button. 

“Was it something that happened on the job? Mikey scold you for not restocking his snack cabinet? The dry cleaners not press your suits correctly–Let me know when I’m getting warmer.” 

“I said leave..me alone…” Kakucho slurred, “I wanna [hic] be alone…” 

Ran hummed, unphased. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve mentioned. C’mon, we got you home safely, I feel like we’ve earned an explanation on what made the pristine number three fly off the handle like this.”

No amount of teasing was going to break Kakucho. At least, not when he’s sober. The aforementioned lightweight always regulated how much he drank because of how decomposed he became, how sensitive he got. Despite his best efforts to remain under control, he was slowly losing his grasp of it the longer those two knuckleheads were in his home. He didn’t want to share what got him so worked up, it was nobody’s business but his own. Sadly, his resolve was fragile from the start, and all it took was a small gust of wind to have it come crumbling down…and Rindou’s input came barging in like a raging storm. 

“Bet it’s about [_____], isn’t it?” 

Kakucho’s eyes nearly burst from his skull, body moving before his brain could catch up as he practically shot up from the couch like a rocket and borderline tackled the lavender-haired man, knocking both him and the chair backward, landing with a harsh thud. The sudden movement caught the brothers off guard, Rin more than Ran for obvious reasons. Kakucho grabbed the younger Haitani by his collar and began shaking him roughly, a furious look upon his flushed face as he practically snarled in Rindou’s. “Don’t you ever say her name, you hear me?! I will slit your fucking throat, you sonofabitch–”

“Whoa, hey, take it easy,” Ran swiftly disengaged Kakucho, catching him in a headlock and stepping backward to separate them. But, if he thought it was going to be that easy, he had another thing coming. 

Kakucho elbowed Ran in his side. It did little damage, only making the older male clench his teeth and eat it, still trying to hold him back and calm him down. They shuffled around for a moment until Kakucho made move to bite into Ran’s forearm with all his might. Though the pain was dulled thanks to his jacket sleeve, it still shocked him enough to loosen his grip, leaving just enough wiggle room to escape his grasp and reel his arm back to throw a mean swing. However, due to him still being very much intoxicated, he missed him by a longshot when Ran just took a small side-step out of the way, sending Kaku to stumble and crash into a side table. Luckily the lamp was there to cushion some of the impact.

Rindou clutched his stretched-out collar, brows furrowed as watched the scene unfold from his position on the floor. “..the fuck was that?”  

The ravenette moaned on the floor, but not in pain from the fall. No doubt he’d feel in the morning, but all of his agony came from within at the mere utterance of your name. He laid there in the heaps of broken shards and began to weep, so deeply from his soul that it stunned both brothers to an awkward silence. His body trembled with each cry, mumbles of your name smothered in with the wails as they echoed through the empty house. They watched him for a moment before exchanging looks. Ran made a silent gesture to leave, but Rindou merely shook his head with another sigh. There was no way they could leave now, thanks to him…

Scrambling up to stand, Rindou gestured for his brother to handle one side while he came to the other. Together they were able to heave their superior off the floor, careful not to cut him or get cut from the scattered lamp pieces. He weakly fought against them, still blubbering like a newborn until he eventually gave up, most likely from exhaustion. They hauled him back to the couch again, only this time setting him down gentler than they did the first time. Kakucho’s face fell into his hands as he continued to sob, shoulders shaking as he poured hours' worth of pent-up emotion right onto the palms. Ran scratched the back of his neck, mildly perturbed. Rindou stood with his arms crossed, frown heavy. “See? Pathetic.” 

“Careful. He might attack you again.” Ran warned sarcastically, Kakucho rapidly shook his head in protest. 

“I-I won’t.. Forgive me, I don’t..I don’t know what came over me..” he said, meekly, ashamed. “I just..when you said her name, I remembered she…s-she..” 

Ran’s eyes widened a fraction, “What, she died?”

Kakucho shot him a tearful glare, sniffling as he firmly said, “No. Don’t say such a thing so casually.” 

He threw his hands up. “Hey, don’t blame me, ‘m not the one who suplexed a lamp because my ex’s name was dropped. Nearly ripped my poor, little Rin’s head off, too.” 

“Shuddup, man.” 

“I’m just saying that-”

“She had a baby.” Kakucho voiced, extinguishing the argument and stunning them yet into another silence. Rindou’s arms dropped to his sides whilst Ran’s brows raised to his hairline. “And...I’m almost certain it’s mine. No..I am certain.” 

His words hung heavily in the air. So much so, both brothers had to take a seat. Rindou stared at Kakucho while Ran stared at the wall, speechless. Until he eventually found the words. “Damn. Don’t know whether to say congrats or condolences. How’d you find that out?” 

Kakucho sighed, drying his face on his sleeve. “I had business in Kyoto to attend to earlier today. When I finished, I stopped by the cherry blossoms, where we...used to go together. That's when I saw her...further down the trail. She wasn’t alone.” 

The visual flooded his foggy mind like high beams, the sight of you wearing a beautiful dress he’d never seen before, glowing heavenly beneath the sun and fallen cherry blossoms. He felt as if he was standing in memory, as if he was in a reality where he was still yours. Kakucho remembered how his feet had a mind of their own, forcing him forward to get closer to you, to speak to you after all this time apart. But, his bubble bursts the second you crouched down with open arms, ready to embrace the child running back to you after attempting to catch falling petals. He froze. You scooped up the child with ease, showering the small boy in kisses to the point his squeals flowed happily in the soft breeze. Kakucho felt his chest tighten then twist, knees buckling the second he saw those bright, crimson eyes staring back at you…it was like seeing an image of his youth. He should've approach you right then and there, to demand answers, to demand explanation, anything to soothe this ache. 

But, he didn’t. 

He was afraid. Afraid of what you’d think, of what you’d say. You kept this from him for a reason, didn’t you? All these years, and he found out completely by happenstance. Had he not gone out there, would he have ever known? Would you have told him? Maybe you didn’t think he was fit to be a father, maybe you did this to keep the child safe. Maybe you no longer believed that he could keep either of you safe… 

It tore at him, from the inside out. No matter how he tried to ignore it, the ache grew into a throb, and the throb into a chasm that only the bottom of a bottle could satiate. And even then, all he could think was how much he failed.   

The brothers exchanged another look, having no idea the kind of demon their superior was dealing with. Despite not caring too much about it, they still felt bad. What man wouldn’t be devastated, especially given his background and how he grew up. Ran gave a low whistle. “That’s…rough.”

“Yeah. Wish you said that instead of trying to kill me.” 

Kakucho rubbed his face, embarrassed. “I apologize...truly.” 

“Tsk. Apologize to the lamp.” He shrugged it off, not holding a grudge over it. “You know, you can just reach out to her. Even if it’s to hear her say she wants nothing to do with you, that’s closure at least. Because this, what you’re doing now, is pathe-” 

“Pathetic, I know, I heard you the first damn time.” Kakucho pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the effects of the alcohol start to simmer out, and a headache closing in. “I suppose.. you’re right. If she doesn’t want me in her life or his then…at least she’ll know I’ll always be here if she needs me.” 

Ran offered an approving nod, opening his mouth to say his two cents only for his phone to interrupt him. The specific ringtone made him close his eyes in immediate annoyance: Sanzu. Sighing heavily through his nose, he reached into his pocket and answered, “What-” 

“YOU BASTARDS JUST LEFT ME HERE?!”

RINDOU was used to the stares he’d get at the gym, but this was new for him. 

After completing another hundred reps on the bench press, during his cooldown he noticed his small audience gaping at him in awe from a nearby machine. The little boy gasped at being caught, ducking behind a weight twice his size before peeking over it, only to completely disappear when he saw Rin still looking his way. 

He huffed through his nose, amused. But, he elected to ignore it. No harm in letting the little guy get some inspiration for future gym goals. After a quick break, Rindou prepared for his next set, setting his water down and adjusting his headphones. Laying down on the bench, about to lift the bar off the rest, he noticed the little boy in his peripheral, peeking over the weight once more, large eyes wide with curiosity. He couldn’t help the small grin tugging on his lips, prideful to have such innocent admiration compared to the usual thirst from onlookers he was accustomed to. 

However, it made him wonder…whose kid was this? 

There wasn’t a children’s area in this particular gym, let alone many that were brought, so someone had to be looking for him, right?…and there’s no telling how long the little boy’s been following him. The parent must be worried.

But it wasn’t his problem. 

He was there to workout and leave, not worry about someone else’s ankle-bitter, no matter how adorable. 

Unfortunately, Rindou made the mistake of peeking back at the boy, seeing him trying to imitate his form with his little arms, face scrunched in concentration and tongue sticking out. He nearly dropped the weight on himself at the sight, losing his own concentration. Kissing his teeth, he set the bar back on the rest, snapping the little boy from his focus. Although Rindou’s brow was furrowed, he wasn’t too annoyed at the interruption, sitting up to finally address his new fan. 

“Oi. It’s impolite to stare.” 

The boy flinched slightly, then looked down at his shoes in embarrassment. “'m s-sorry, mister…” 

Rindou felt a pang in his chest. With an exhale, he stood from the bench and removed his headphones as he walked over to the kid. Crouching down to his level, he took note of how the boy struggled to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the bottom half of his shirt. “Hmph. Guess you can’t learn the correct form without watching someone else. You trynna build muscle, too, little man?” 

Like flipping a switch, the boy’s eyes lit up as he nodded his head excitedly, tiny fists pumped. “Yeah! Wanna have huge muscles! Get big and strong like the heroes on TV!” 

He raised a brow. “Yeah?” 

“Uh huh! But-But you’re bigger, mister! Like,” he extended his arms as wide as he could, “SUPER big.” 

He grinned, smug. He liked this kid. “Damn right. But, you know, in order for me to stay this big and strong, I have to focus on my workout. And I can't really do that with you watching me like a hawk."

The little boy's mouth formed an 'o' before he covered it with his hands, sheepish as he looked at him with guilt, "Uh oh.."

Rindou shrugged, "t's fine, I ain't mad," creeped out, but he doesn't mention that. He looked around for a second, trying to see if there were any indication of someone appearing frantic or distraught. When he came up with nothing, he sighed, "How about this: Lemme finish my last set, and then you and I find your dad or something. Deal?"

The boy lit up once more, "C-Can I help?"

Rindou raised a brow, "Help, huh?" The boy nodded, eyes big and bright, and hopeful, and dammit. How can he say no to that face? He kissed his teeth, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure. You can...help keep count, I guess. How high can you count?"

"To a million!"

With a snort, Rindou merely shook his head, standing back to his full height to walk back to the bench with the ankle biter hot on his tail. How he ended up on babysitting duty was beyond him. But could be worse.

One set and a struggle to count past the number 30 later, Rindou held the boy's hand, who he eventually discovered was named Rintaro, as they scoped out the gym high and low to find his father. No matter how many men he pointed to, Rintaro claimed none of them.

Rindou was starting to grow frustrated.

There were still some workouts he hadn't gotten to yet, and this was eating up time. The younger Haitani had half a mind to just drop the kid off at the help desk, but every time it crosses his mind, he makes the mistake again of making eye contact with the boy and his big ole eyes. He looked happy to just be holding his hand, as if Rindou held up the moon and stars. It was...a little off-putting he won’t lie, but adorable, nonetheless. He couldn't just abandon him, even if he wanted to.

He sighed, “Seriously, kid, did your old man drop you here and leave? We should’ve found him by now…”

The boy blinked up at him, confused. “What old man?”

“No, not an old man, I mean your dad—Look, where was the last place you saw him before you wandered off?”

“Oh. I don’t have a dad.”

Rindou stopped. Then, with a swiftness he scooped up Rintaro by his underarms and held him at eye level, glaring at him with a twitching brow. “What.”

The boy sheepishly grinned. “I'm here with my mommy...”

“You mean to tell me we’ve been walking in circles for almost ten minutes, and you were just not gonna share that? Why didn’t you say something??”

“Because…” he fiddled with his fingers, looking down. “I like being with you…it’s fun…”

Well, shit.

Just like that, the anger evaporated. Rindou kissed his teeth, setting the boy back on the ground, crouching down to his level. Then, ruffling his hair, he said, “Alright, little man, no more games. Your ma’s probably worried to death about you. You said you're wanting to get strong to protect her, right?”

Rintaro nodded. Rindou continued, “Well you can’t protect her if you keep leaving her by herself, especially with all these meatheads around. You gotta stick by her, watch her back. And promise you won’t do this again. Okay?”

He nodded again, “Okay…”

“Okay, and?”

“And I promise…”

Rintaro sniffled, wiping his eyes with his fists. Rindou felt another pang in his chest, his intent not to make the kid cry. It’s not like it was his job to discipline him…

He ruffled the boy’s hair again, leaning downward so he could see his face. “Oi. No waterworks. Besides, you gotta be good so she'll bring ya back. You can't count for shit, but.. wouldn't mind having a spotter. What d'you say? You up for it?”

Like flipping a switch, Rintaro’s head perked up at the indication of not only getting to see him again but being a part of his routine. He nodded so hard, Rindou feared he’d give himself whiplash. Though, there was no hiding his grin. Yeah, he liked this kid. Reminded him of himself when he was that age…come to think of it…he looks sorta similar, too—

“Rinta!” Came a voice from afar, stressed and full of emotion.

“Mommy!” He answered, smile widening upon seeing you approach, arms extended out as he ran over to you. When Rindou stood to face the direction where the boy ran to, it felt like his world turned to slow motion, eyes narrowing in on the aforementioned mother—His ex.

He froze like a deer in headlights, shoulders tensed to where he could feel a cramp setting in. There was no way he was seeing this…no absolute shot in hell that you were here before him, hugging and kissing the kid he spent half an hour with, who allegedly didn’t have a dad, who just called you—“Mommy?”

At the sound of Rintaro’s confusion, it was then Rindou snapped from his daze and realized you had noticed him standing there, the two of you locking eyes; you looked equally horrified. And you were probably thinking the same thing he was.

Out of all the people…why’d it have to be you?

“I’m sorry, but this store is for grown ups with real money. I’m afraid I cannot accept this, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

The little girl pouted angrily up at the woman, arms crossed in displeasure. How dare she say such a thing about her piggy bank, she didn’t even bother to count how much was inside. That was a months' worth of good behavior at school, a couple tooth fairy visits, and some Monopoly money, and she worked hard to get it.

“Look you hag. ’m not leavin’ til you hand over the necklace with the shinies and sparklies on it for my mama’s birfday. So, cough it up!”

The woman appeared revolted by such lack of decorum, hand over heart as she gaped down at the little girl, face reddening with anger. She waggled a finger, lip upturned as she scolded the child, threatening to have her escorted out by security, only for it to be shut down by the sound of the little girl blowing raspberries up at her. The woman gave a dramatic gasp, horrified at such bratty behavior. However, before she could even reach for the phone to dial the number for the security office, an unexpected guest decided to step in.

"Belinda, are you being bested by a child?"

The woman nearly jumped out of her skin, full body turning towards the source to come face to face with one of the store's top investors, KOKONOI Hajime. Her skin grew pale in an instant, loss for words as she struggled to explain the embarrassing display he just walked in on. The little girl paused her taunting to gape up at the beautiful, shiny man before her, thinking a prince just popped right off a cover of a fairytale book. Draped in a stylish red kimono, with various jewels hanging off him like ornaments that twinkle beneath the warm lighting of the store, it's a wonder how he even made a place like this feel cheap. But what really caught her attention was his snow-white hair. It looked so silky, just begging to be braided and decorated with various bobs and barrettes. Maybe even some stickers–

"K-Kokonoi-san!" The woman exclaimed, startling the girl out of her daydream. Bowing deeply, forehead nearly touching her own knees, she disappeared behind the counter. Blinking widely at the perceived magic trick, the little girl craned her neck to see where she went, only to be disappointed that she didn’t actually disappear. "I-I wasn't informed you would be dropping in, s-sir. Please, excuse my rudeness."

"I was in the area," his gaze locked on the fetus at his shins. He points down at her. "Who is this?"

"I'm..not sure, sir. She's been causing a disturbance. Making a scene, demanding I let her purchase one of our display items with...board game currency."

The girl stomped around the corner to point at the still bowing woman. "I gave you money, now gimme the shiny! Those are the rules!"

Belinda peered up a little to squint at her, sneering as she spoke, "For the last time, you little miscreant, that money isn't real."

"It is, too! It's green! Money is green, you dumb hag!"

"You-!"

Kokonoi grinned, amused, "She has a point. Money is green, Belinda."

Said clerk shot up and eyed the white-haired man, flabbergasted. "S-Sir! You can't really be encouraging this obscenity, I mean, honestly! My job is to make sure nonsense like this is handled, and this little girl is disrupting the peace of this store."

"Mm. You getting worked up over some kid won’t resolve anything."

Belinda flushed a bright red of embarrassment once more. "Y-Yes. Yes, of course. My apologies." She bowed again.

Koko merely rolled his eyes, gesturing to the phone. “Just get security on the line. Someone’s gotta be looking for her by now.”

"No! 'm not leaving until you gimme mommy's birfday present!"

Kokonoi hummed, tilting his head in a teasing manner. "Too bad. That necklace isn't for sale. And it won’t be for a long time. Why don’t you start smaller, huh? Draw your mommy a picture or something."

She angrily pouted, pointing at her piggy bank on the counter. “I held Hammy all the way here, and his tummy’s full! Mommy says when his tummy’s full, I can buy whatever I want. And I. Want. That. Necklace.”

Koko’s brow twitched, leaning down to look her right in the eye as he grumbled. “Look, you little brat. I already told ya, it ain’t for sale. Now, be a good girl, and wait quietly until security comes to get you.”

The girl met his stare with a challenging one. This means war.

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[championari]

So I’m constantly thinking about Charles and how he could eventually meet Edwin with his feelings.

Here’s something I realized: Charles, despite constantly talking about things he miss, things he wants, he actually has a complicated relationship with desire as a concept.

How I would put it is by taking Supernatural as an example. There’s an episode in Season 5 where the boys meet Famine, a horseman of the apocalypse. However, Dean is not at all affected by him. It’s because due to being the older brother, and a Hunter, Dean was never allowed to consider acting on or even having desire for anything.

You can see where I’m going with this. Charles, like Dean, doesn’t actually believe he should want anything, due to “not being good enough”.

This is something actually touched on subtly in the show through the acting. When Niko says, “I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have.” Edwin directly looks at The Cat King’s bracelet, while Charles stares off into space. When Tragic Mick describes Angie’s light as enforcing a sense of yearning, Edwin looks at Charles, while again, Charles looks off blankly (can’t access screenshots right now). Edwin knows what he wants but is scared of it, while Charles doesn’t know what he wants because he can’t allow himself to consider it. This gives an entirely new meaning to Charles’ hatred of the Cat King. A supernatural entity who describes his kingdom as being about “want and pleasure”. Thomas is the encapsulation of everything Charles was never allowed to have. Charles chases after things that he knows he can’t have, romancing a living girl despite knowing she will eventually leave. Charles can’t consider returning Edwin’s feelings because that would mean he’s been running away from what’s been in front of him the whole time. That what he wanted was always there, at his lowest point, when he thought he deserved it least.

Returning Edwin’s feelings means he was already enough. And Charles can’t imagine that yet.

While I would obviously adore an interaction between Charles and Desire of The Endless, ultimately I don’t think it would do anything. Like Dean, Charles might be completely unaffected by them because he’s spent most of his existence building walls around his desires. Edwin was completely blindsided by Thomas because he never even considered having to think about Desire due to having no attraction to women and that being the dominant narrative of his time. Charles pursues Crystal because he still wants to feel like he has a chance at “normal life” (which as I said is self-punishment by throwing himself at something he knows he can’t have). To accept that he’s in love with Edwin would mean no longer pursuing a living person. Edwin would be it for him, which he kind of already gets but it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Just like his death

There's also this exchange that drives me nuts:

"You gave up tranquil eternity…for your friend?" "Does that sound like someone who belongs in Hell?"

THIS. MAKES. ME. INSANE. Because Charles, like he always does when confronted with his own wants, completely avoids it. He doesn't respond to The Night Nurse's obvious confusion as to why he ran from Death, and instead turns the conversation back to Edwin. He makes it all about what Edwin deserves, not what Charles saw in Edwin that led him to make that choice. You could say this is practical as time is of the essence, but I think that's the point. Charles throws away the chance to explain his viewpoint on their first meeting, the consequences of his choice to run from Death with a boy he just met and knew for a few hours, and instead remains single-minded on Edwin's safety. Like when Edwin reasonably questioned, "Why are you getting angry?" when he began freaking out over Thomas getting close to Edwin, he says nothing.

There's just so much happening in that head that I can't stop thinking about.

[witherby]

I love your Littlest Wayne AU! I've binge read pretty much everything twice by now. Poor Bruce.

I keep thinking of when Littlest Wayne learned to walk. Like, Imagine Damian or Jason had to leave for something and got up, and LW was like we aren't done here and stumbles to their feet. Then the whole Batfam watches as LW walk up and hugs their leg so they can't escape. Or Bruce can get a rare W and they were following him.

We rag on Bruce so much in the Littlest Wayne au I feel like he actually deserves this win.

You're in the day room turned play room. You're crawling around so fast. You're zippin and zoomin. You're drive-by chomping on Bruce's ankles. It's a beautiful day.

Bruce is making a game of it. Kind of. By god he is so tired of teeth marks in his ankles. Anyway he walks a couple feet away to another part of the room. He waits. You come zoomin. You attack!!!!!

He walks another couple feet away to another part of the room. He waits. You come zoomin. You attack!!!!

He walks another couple feet, and then keeps walking because you're not done!!!!! Here comes Flittermouse with the baby teeth!!!!!!! It's time to chow the fuck down!!!!!!!!!!

Baby you are getting tired. Your dad needs to accept his fate already, and your teeth hurt. You need his good good flesh to gnaw on.

You huff and babble at him, making grabby hands. Bruce smiles and shakes his head. You make grabby hands harder. He refuses!!!! Betrayal!!!!

Rage overcomes you. You release a war cry that sounds like an excited baby squealing, which it's not. But don't get it twisted, your dad should be cowering in his slippers right now, not pulling out his phone to snap pictures of you.

Enough!! If Daddy gets to use his stupid long legs to walk away, you get to use yours to chase him! The time of rug burn on your hands and knees is coming to and end! You will strike fear into his heart as you launch yourself at him!!!!

Bruce coos and takes a video of you clumsily pulling yourself to your feet on the edge of the small, coloring table.

"Is it happening? Are you gonna try to walk? Look at you go!"

You release another happy squeal war cry and launch yourself at your foe. One step! Two steps! Another one step because you don't know your numbers yet!!! Perhaps another two step if you're feeling froggy!!!!! GET THOSE ANKLES READY DAD!!!!!

Gravity, your greatest enemy, topples your conquest four and a half steps in. You plop to the floor and Bruce makes a sympathetic "uh oh!" from across the room. It's time to employ your last-ditch strategy and throw your cards down.

You make the motion for Uppies and start crying. Bruce sweeps you into his arms and you imMEDIATELY BITE HIS WRIST HAHAHAHAA!!!!!! The foolish fool!!!! That was the oldest trick in the book!!! You'd know that if you knew how to read, but still!!!! Victory!!!!!!!!

[jupitermelichios]

I actively seek out terrible movies, I've seen almost everything Uve Bol has ever made, and I maintain a Letterboxd list called 'movies I genuinely regret watching', so this is a subject I've given a lot of thought to.

Super is the most bleakly nihilistic movie I've ever watched, and has a rape scene it plays as a joke because it's happening to a man. Spawn is so visually ugly it's actually physically painful to look at in places. Snyder's Justice League is over 4 hours long, 3 of those are unecessary slo-mo, and all of them are too dark to see what the fuck is happening. The animated Injustice: Gods Among us movie is so lazily written it managed to take one of the best comics ever written about the insidiousness of facism, and make an accidentially pro-facist movie. Performance famously made one of the actors quit acting in response to being in it, and watching made me seriously consider quitting watching movies in solidarity. Peter Rabbit 2: the Runaway has a moment where one of the characters looks straight at the camera and says "imagine if someone tried to make a soulless hollywood CG movie out of a beloved british children's book, wouldn't that be terrible?", and I'm not even joking about that.

The King's Man is so unfinished and incoherent I genuinely don't know how it got released, and watching Fant4stic feels almost exactly like slipping into a depressive episode.

But despite all the many many terrible movies I have seen in my life, many of which dealt me massive psychic damage, if we're talking massive disproportionate rage, the answer has to be 2014's TMNT.

Is it objectively the worst movie I've ever seen? God no. Is it the ugliest looking? Also no. Compared to Spawn, the hideous beige CGI turtles are practically an artistic masterpiece. Is the most morally bankrupt? Considering transformers 4's stance on statutory rape, it's not even the most morally bankrupt Michael Bay movie.

Does it make me wish I had a time machine so I could prevent the original TMNT comics from being written just so they could never inspire this fucking movie? Absolutely yes.

Is there a very real risk that I would just haul off and punch Michael Bay in the face for inflicting it on the world if I were ever the meet him? God yes.

Would I just walk out of the room and never return if someone told me they loved it? I could be on trial and I'd still at least try to just leave if my lawyer told me they liked it.

Do I think the world would be an objectively better, brighter, happier place if this 90 minute soulless heartless piece of low-key racist cgi garbage was erased from existence? Unquestionably yes, and you disagree we can never ever be friends.

I am fully aware my hatred is disproporiate, bad as the movie objectively is, but there's just something about it that makes me absolutely furious.

What would you guys consider the worst movie you've ever seen? Not something that's fun to make fun of, nothing you ironically enjoyed, I mean just an absolutely miserable moviegoing experience that you paid for, hated every second, and wish you had walked out of and asked for a refund.

For me, no joke, Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted. It did not even feel like a real movie to me. It made me see red! I was SEETHING with anger and annoyance throughout the entire thing, and I cannot for the life of me articulate why. I saw it once in 2012 when I was 15, I remember almost nothing about it now, but it struck a nerve with me like no other movie ever has before or since.

Tell me in the tags, which movie makes you disproportionately angry just thinking about it?

[m1stm3]

umm i don’t have a name for this one!! no cw’s other than some angst and fem! reader (reader is referred to as a woman and uses she/her pronouns) :]

word count: 916 (my longest posted yet!!!)

imagining shigaraki who announces to the league that he found a temporary place to stay a few weeks after the base gets destroyed, answering zero questions as to how exactly he found a place for a group of villains to stay after they had seemingly exhausted all of their options (“someone owed me a favor” was all he had said. none of them believed him).

they’re all confused when they arrive at a relatively residential neighborhood. they’re even more confused when their boss walks up to the front door of a random house as if he’s done it a thousand times before (he has. he’d always crawl back to this doorstep, always looking a little small and wounded).

and — not to be repetitive — but imagine their shock when the sweetest looking woman opens the door. you. you’re all smiles and sugar, giving their boss a wide smile before greeting the rest of them and inviting them inside. they’re practically gawking at the way you dote on them as if they’re normal houseguests and not a group of strangely dressed villains.

the blonde girl and the two men in masks are the only ones that introduce themselves (himiko, jin, and ‘compress’. you recognized them from tomuras previous explanations. he thought they were all pains in their own right, you couldn’t bring yourself to agree). the others stay close by tomura, allowing him to guide them through the new environment (as if they had much of a choice). he hadn’t said a word since the nice woman opened the door, even ignoring spinners insistent, whispered questions.

tomura suddenly stops, gesturing to three doors. “we’re taking up these two rooms, the garage, and the living room.” he points to the last door in the hallway. “that’s the bathroom. figure it out amongst yourselves.” he explained flatly, making his way back to the main area of the house with nothing else said. they were left with more questions than when they had initially gotten there.

their boss had settled into a couch by the time they wandered back into the main area, slouched against an armrest with that blank look he wore whenever he was lost in thought. you had taken to the more talkative three, smiling softly as you answered their questions while offering them mugs of something warm (you couldn’t help the softened look in your eyes when you saw the brief shock in their expressions at the gesture).

it was quiet for a while after that. peaceful, even… until you dropped a mug while trying to tidy up your kitchen. it had been a while since the league had seen their boss suddenly so alert, no hesitation in his movements when he briskly made his way into the kitchen. they had braced themselves to hear yelling or some form of harshness. anything to express his displeasure towards the sudden interruption to his thoughts. only, that’s not what happened. at all, actually.

you were a little more frantic, murmuring soft apologies while crouched down and picking up the larger shards of ceramic. only the three at the table could see what was going on, but the quiet way everything was handled was enough for everyone to connect some dots. tomura hadn’t said anything, simply moving down to your level to help you pick up the bigger shards.

when he finally spoke, it was like witnessing a different person. ‘soft’ was an adjective the league wasn’t familiar with. they didn’t have the privilege of really knowing what that word meant… they understood it better now though, with the way their boss was reassuring you in a quiet voice. his words were scolding as per usual, (even you weren’t immune to his small lectures urging you to ‘be more careful’) but he said them with a lightness none of them had heard before.

and then you touched him and suddenly they understood (those who witnessed it, of course). the contact was brief, just a small, grateful squeeze to his shoulder. something so easily overlooked by the general population… but they knew their boss well. they knew the weight of the small gesture. it was so painfully normal, he didn’t even blink an eye at the small touch.

the three at the table — who usually had had so much to say — could only spare each other small, knowing glances. the others that had settled on the couch still looked expectant, as if waiting for the storm that was soon to come pouring down (they could’ve waited years, it was never going to happen).

the league stood at your house for two weeks after that, the interactions between you and the members short but sweet. tomura had bunked in the garage, walking into the house throughout the night with the weak excuse of having to use the bathroom.

they decided not to call him out on his lie.

you remained kind even as they were leaving, wishing them well and softly urging them to stay safe. only himiko noticed the look you and tomura shared as he walked past you. a secret something she was sure only the two of you knew the meaning of. she found herself foolishly hoping that the pretty lady who had taken care of them would be okay.

you found yourself foolishly hoping to see them again (in another life, maybe. things would be better then.)

[yumeiwei]

DC X DP: One-Shot or Chapters?

So I had this idea, but I wasn’t sure if I should turn it into a long fic or a one-shot. Please help me decide in the comments!

The entire Batfam is on the Batplane with Constantine, who called them for help locating an area that spiked in Death Magic. He has been following these spikes for a while but he was always too slow so now, begrudgingly, he asked the Bat for help.

Batman agreed since Death Magic isn't something he wants just happening all over the world. His kids came along to help, arguing that this might be serious and they wanted to go with.

They reach the top of a mountain that had what seemed to be a ling dried up lake with a figure at the center, looking as if they were giving a prayer.

They set the plane to stealth mode and lowered themselves down. They cautiously walked to the lake edge, wanting to observe first before confronting the figure.

The figure looked androgynous and had a swimmer's build. They were dressed in what looked to be thin, flowy robes that were white with light green accents. They also had what looked to be a silk shall that seemed to be floating.

Suddenly, the figure got up and started dancing, as if in a waltz with someone they couldn't see. Slowly, dim balls of light appeared. Most were either green or blue, but every color imaginable was there.

There was a shift and the balls of light transformed into people-like forms. Ghosts if you will. Hundreds of them. Some taking the hand of the figure and dancing with them, only to let go and give the figure to a new partner.

If they never danced, or if they gave the figure to a new partner, they started floating upwards. That's when the Batfam and Constantine saw that the cloudy sky now had a single perfect circle that allowed the spirits to fly into a soft green glowing light.

Lazarus green. But softer.

As they watched, Batman felt a hand on his shoulders. He tried to grab the hand only to freeze. It was his father.

"We're proud of you, son." The ghost said with a smile as the ghost reached out and suddenly Martha was visible.

Martha smiled, gave a soft kiss onto Bruce's cheeks and danced with her husband into the sky.

---

I'll insert more scenes in the actual fic. Dick's parents, the guy Jason didn't kill but Bruce thought he killed, Tim gets those two assassins that died (can't remember names rn, I'm writing this instead of sleeping), Cass gets the person she killed, Damian gets some of the people he killed.

Jason will probably go up to Danny out of instinct or smt. Danny will ask if he wants to stay or move on and fix his core when Jason says he wants to stay.

So, thoughts?

(Will probably make this Dead on Main, but Brain Dead/Dead Tired has a special place in my heart so idk)

[osakanone]

Writer here.

Actually to hell with this false equivalence and the advice.

Advice is a form of social nostalgia. We learn something, but we remove the bad parts to help us remember the thing. We simplify it down.

When we pass it on, we conveniently forget to put the shitty parts back on, because that's how memory works and its part of how we value advice appropriateness of past experiences.

We do this even when someone's situation and context is totally unlike our own and we do so with confidence until we learn not to.

The big lesson?

Life doesn't generalize. Neither does context.

Experience does not generalize. That's literally how and why people are different from one another. We get to know people unlike ourselves so we can see differing contexts, so we know when our experiences do not generalize. So we can see beyond ourselves.

Some people desperately want to think all of life generalizes, but that's the same mentality which produces people who think they can personal choices their way out of any imaginable problem.

As an example, a thousand Signalis like tragedies doesn't prepare someone for a dead spouse.

A million Disco Elysiums cannot undo decades of catastrophic self-hatred.

Its not like a fire-drill where after doing it enough you go into autopilot with some kind of readiness and automaticity even if it claims to sell you that fantasy.

It can put tools in your hand, but only if your context is close enough that the tools are actionable and useful.

If the realization is not useful, you can't act on it.

Sometimes it is, sometimes its not, often because minor contextural factors will intervene.

What if you have a lot of complex feelings about both a dead spouse and your concept of gender and its all too muddled to process in Signalis and it messes with your ability to process your grief?

What if you have a lot of complex feelings about an alcoholic parent and Harry makes you forgive things you shouldn't forgive?

People are influenced by media, and they do do things like this.

Sometimes instinctively, they even know they shouldn't and will drop something.

Like don't get me wrong, advice is helpful sometimes but its ultimately still advice in the form of roleplay with number of players zero.

The real thing is not an abstraction.

Sometimes what people actually need isn't piles and piles of tools, but distance. To know things can be different, or just not to think about what's happening so they can get things done that will help their situation. To know there is something worth working towards. That it isn't going to rain forever.

Sometimes what people want is catharsis or just relief or to feel seen rather than to learn or be told something or shown a different way to think or be given actionable tools.

They just want to escape so there's a reward to getting things done that let them continue to exist. A carrot on the end of a stick so things feel worth doing.

Sometimes people aren't willing to suffer to get there because they're already so depleted, and get those lessons because they just want a carrot to only be a carrot.

You might say that unreasonable or unrealistic or even childish but many people don't get a controlled environment in their heads to begin with (and potentially not even one in their lives) so your bit about a controlled sandbox doesn't generalize either.

The sheer distance of how far away two human contexts can even be is beyond imagination in its nuanced emergent subtleties.

Nothing in our evolution has prepared us for the era we live in.

Lots of people as a defense mechanism will struggle to connect with others who have difficult experiences as a means of limiting the incoming pain as they're already saturated.

That's not going to help someone connect to a story or care enough to complete it.

Fiction can be useful to bridge those gaps or even bring people closer, but it won't make people whole again, especially if they don't even know what being whole is or if they don't have space to walk.

Remember Maslow's higherarchy?

Think of where you have to be for personal growth to happen.

Lots of people begin from below the ground up, not even knowing what experiences they didn't get to have or what lessons they weren't taught as children, assuming they were even taught any.

The context where your advice genuinely helps?

Not everybody is there.

Please remember this.

Take care.

whenever people say they can't watch/play/read anything slightly upsetting or scary or challenging because it's... upsetting or scary or challenging all i can think of is this lol

[chvoswxtch]

Romcom - with Hotch ? 👀🫶🏼

Girl i’ve been waiting for the right time for you to hopefully take this and do your thing with it cuz you’re amazing. I know it’s specific and long so pls feel free to do with it what you like. Also I’m not sure it fits your movie night theme, so then maybe just keep it for when you maybe do wanna write it???? Here it is, whatever….

K so like hotch and reader are like couple goals, been married long, working through everything and are just downright adorable BUT THEN hotch nearly dies…like for real gets shot in the stomach or something - something real scary. And aaaaall the time he’s mumbleling stuff, reassuringly or scared like: you cant tell my wife she’ll end me or tell her I’m fine, gonna be home for dinner…

But maybe she’s there and she’s trying her hardest to make everybody move, but Morgan is just not having it, making her stay tf back…

When she finally sees him she’s s c a r e d…so terrified of might having actually lost him, of it happening again cuz he will be in these situations again and who is she if not supportive and understanding…just scared and hopelessly in love. bye.

honey you essentially just wrote a whole ass masterpiece on your own

but you asked for my dramatic flair & I am nothing if not a dramatic bitch that lives for the ✨ t h e a t r e ✨

headcannon below the cut

if i stay starring aaron hotchner

derek knew you would physically fist fight him in the middle of that hospital hallway if he even dared to try and keep you out of hotch's room. he kept trying to reason with you, that you wouldn't wanna see him in that state, but you were not in a state of mind to be reasoned with

when you got the call from rossi that your husband was in the hospital, that familiar stone of dread sank in your stomach, nearly sending you through the floor. he didn't say what had happened, not over the phone, but you could hear the fear in his voice, which terrified you

the solemn faces of his team didn't help ease your anxiety, and the grisly details sent your nervous system into a full on meltdown. you could only pick up bits and pieces of what the surgeon explained

gunshot. loss of blood. critical condition. touch and go.

being in the bau was a dangerous job, and hotch had gotten hurt a few times over the course of your marriage, but it had never been this bad

nothing could've prepared you for the sight of hotch bruised and bloodied, laying in a hospital bed, connected to a bunch of wires that were keeping him alive, with an oxygen tube in his nose to help his weakened lungs do the most basic of human subconscious functions

panic, fear, anger, hopelessness, desperation, sadness; all of these emotions were crashing over each other like perilous tides and you were drowning beneath their tenacity

hotch was the strongest person you knew, physically and mentally. he was your rock. to see him reduced to something so fragile and broken shattered something within you. it wasn't like you were foolish enough to think your husband was invincible, but he was smart and cautious, he knew what he was doing. but today reminded you just how human he was

all you could do was sit there by his side and hold his hand while you fluctuated from silent weeping to full fledged sobbing. it didn't feel like enough, but it was all you could do. you couldn't help but replay this morning over and over in your head, analyzing every frame. had you told him you loved him? had you kissed him before he left? had you savored the few seconds before he walked out the door, not knowing that he might not walk back through it?

"don't tell my wife."

you'd been sitting there for what felt like an eternity in silence with nothing but the haunting background noise of beeping machines and chatter in the hallway. it was so faint, you almost didn't hear it. hotch still looked like he was sleeping, and you weren't sure if you'd imagined it or not

"what?"

you leaned in a little closer, and when he let out a deep exhale, the first sign of life you'd seen since you stepped into this room, you almost burst into tears

"don't tell my wife."

his speech was slightly slurred as he mumbled, and you weren't sure if it was due to the blood loss or the anesthesia that was wearing off from surgery

"why not?"

he was so out of it he didn't even seem to recognize your voice

"because she'll kick my ass."

you couldn't stop the laugh that escaped your lips at that, covering your mouth with your hand while the most imperceptible of a smile tugged at the edge of his lips

"I promised i'd be home for dinner."

giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you sniffled and wiped at your damp cheeks with a sad smile

"i'm sure she'll understand if you're a little late."

a sound that was a cross between a snort and a scoff left hotch as one of his thick dark brows subtly arched

"you haven't met my wife."

brushing your thumb over the back of his hand, you reached out with your other to gently push his hair back

"maybe this is a cosmic sign it's time for a vacation."

in the midst of gently carding your fingers through his hair, the next words that left his lips caught you off guard and made you go still

"maybe it's time to retire."

a full minute of silence passed, and then slowly, hotch's eyes opened, and as if drawn by some invisible magnetic force, the immediately found you

the pressure of him squeezing your hand, a silent gesture of not just reassurance, but also his strength returning, had tears welling up in your eyes all over again

hotch slowly turned his head to look at you, his eyes wandering over your face like he was trying to memorize every detail, and then a gentle but weak smile graced his mouth

"I won't be late for dinner ever again, honey."

I made myself emotional and now i'm gonna go cry excuse me

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

Hiiii, I would love a ArthurTv x reader period comfort, I just feel like he’d be so sweet about it. Maybe the reader stains the sheets and is really upset?

Love your writing so much!!!!

had a lot of fun writing this way too relatable request!

how you think he'll react vs how he actually reacts:

The morning light seeped through Arthur’s thin curtains, slapping you in the face with the reality of a new day. You blinked against the brightness, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar bed, the disheveled man beside you, and—oh right. Last night. You let yourself fall back into the memory, replaying it like a favorite scene in a movie: the way his fingers had traced slow, deliberate patterns along your spine, sending little shockwaves down your body. The way his voice had dropped an octave. It was warm and teasing when he whispered something so dirty that still made your stomach flip just remembering it. The way his mouth found yours,, as though you were something rare and he had all the time in the world to savor you.

It had been better than you'd imagined. Perfect in the way that made your cheeks heat just thinking about it, your body aching in a way that was both delicious and maddening. Perfect in a way that made you want to weep for all the imperfect nights with imperfect men that had come before.

For a while, you just laid there, basking in the warmth of the sheets and the faint smell of Arthur’s cologne still clinging to the pillows. But then—oh no. That faint discomfort. That little tug in your gut. You shifted, and that’s when you saw it. The betrayal. A dark, undeniable stain on the pristine white sheets beneath you.

Your stomach plunged into the depths of hell. You stared at the spot like it had personally insulted your entire lineage. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Your mind raced through increasingly absurd solutions: burn the sheets, fake your death, join a convent. Should I just jump out of the window? Anything but face the reality of what had just happened.

Arthur stirred beside you, his hair a ridiculous halo of bedhead, and you froze, clutching the sheet like it was a parachute and you were plummeting toward earth. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

“Hi,” you squeaked, trying to telepathically will him to not notice. But of course, he noticed. Because the universe loves to watch you squirm.

He blinked at the stain, then at you, and for a moment, you thought you might actually die right there in his bed. But instead of recoiling in horror or laughing in your face, Arthur did the unthinkable: he grinned.

“Is that all?” he said, his voice so casual it made you want to scream. “I thought something was actually wrong.”

“Arthur,” you hissed, your face burning hotter than the sun. “I ruined your sheets!”

“They’re just sheets,” he said, sitting up and stretching like you hadn’t just shattered every shred of dignity you’d ever possessed. “It’s fine. I’ll throw them in the wash.”

“I’ll do it,” you said, already scrambling to untangle yourself, but he shook his head, laughing softly.

“Nope. Not a chance,” he said, gently prying the sheets from your death grip. “You’re going to take a shower and relax while I handle this. No arguments.”

“Arthur,” you said again, but he was already halfway out of bed, stripping the sheets.

“There’s fresh towels in the bathroom,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll grab you some clothes. Go on, I’ve got this.”

You stood there for a moment, still clutching the corner of the duvet like it might save you. But his easy smile, his complete lack of judgment, made the tension in your chest ease just enough for you to nod and shuffle toward the bathroom.

Under the hot spray of the shower, you let out a long breath. The embarrassment still simmered, but it no longer felt like it might consume you. By the time you got out of the shower, wearing the oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants he’d left for you on the counter, the worst of it had faded.

You found him in the kitchen, humming tunelessly as he fiddled with the kettle. The sheets were nowhere in sight, already banished to the washing machine. But on the counter was a grocery bag, overflowing with… tampons? There must have been at least eight boxes of them and..chocolate bars? You looked at him like he had gone insane.

“I ran to the shop while you were in the shower,” Arthur said, turning around with a grin that was entirely too proud of itself. “I didn’t know which kind you’d want, so I got… all of them. And the chocolate just seemed like a good idea.”

You continued to stare at him, speechless, as he casually unpacked what looked like an entire aisle of feminine products and enough chocolate to stock a small candy shop.

“Arthur,” you finally managed, your voice somewhere between incredulous and laughing. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Are you kidding?” he said, handing you a mug of tea like he hadn’t just gone on the most unhinged errand of all time. “This is boyfriend training 101. I’m acing the course.” He smirked his boyish smirk that had you falling for him since day one.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you and filling the kitchen. And just like that, the morning didn’t feel like a disaster anymore. It felt like a warm cozy blanket.

"Thank you for being so cool about this," you say. "It means a lot."

"I guess you could say I like to go with the flow." He says before laughing entirely way too hard at his own joke.

[witheredapple]

Lucifer & Cerberus headcanons 🐶🖤

Lucifer didn’t want Cerberus in the first place cuz of the responsibility and being too busy to care for a dog but he ended up loving him and spoiling him a few hours later (yes, he is that type of dad)

Lucifer would buy matching clothes for him, Diavolo, and Cerberus (and take family pictures)

Lucifer celebrates Cerberus’ birthday every year (would even send out invitations - “bring presents”)

One time lucifer forgot to buy his brothers (and Diavolo) Christmas presents but he definitely didn’t forget Cerberus considering the amount of bags filled with dog toys, treats, outfits, and accessories he bought

Cerberus has his own room which Lucifer decorated and built a few things for him

Cerberus got lost/escaped twice and Lucifer panicked so bad. He couldn’t sleep or eat bc he was worried something happened to Cerberus (human au)

The first time Cerberus got lost was because of Diavolo, Lucifer gave him the silent treatment (their first major problem they had in their marriage/whole relationship so far). Second time was Belphie and Satan’s fault, Satan was trying to make it up to Lucifer but Lucifer just gave him the silent treatment and just straight up ignored him like he didn’t exist (human AU)

Diavolo used to call puppy Cerberus ‘cockblocker’ bc of the amount of times Cerberus would interrupt him and Lucifer when they’re about to have sex. It happened too often that Diavolo was starting to think that Cerberus knew what he was doing (human au)

Bonus: This has do with the devilgram story: “The Disappearance of Cerberus” and how I wish it went or expected it to go. I like to imagine that when Cerberus ran away, Lucifer got depressed. Yes, the brothers were TERRIFIED to tell Lucifer which they were right about cuz Lucifer started yelling at them while panicking. The brothers even caught Lucifer staring at a picture of him and Cerberus (when he was shrunk to the size of the dogs (large breed) in the human world). He had bags under his eyes and refused to talk to his brothers. His brothers then realized that they actually fucked up big time. Maybe at some point Lucifer shared some memories he had with Cerberus to MC, having that sad smile on his face as he shares those memories.

Most of these are just associated with one of my human AU stories 😂

[mossterunderthebed]

forking terrifying but also compelling

CAN U IMAGINE THIS AS GOJO

like a cult of sukuna worshippers coz he's like held up as some sort of demon god or smthg who has followers bc he became such from a human. and technically he WILL protect u but only at the cost of ur life and eternal servitude which. a yike. and so they get ahold of the PR or smthg (theyre led by kenjaku who's using them for Their own ends) and trap Gojo.

and then kenjaku's son (a young man raised by his gramps Away from All That) who's mourning the death of his gramps and searching for purpose and hope happens across gojo injured and bleeding discarded after they finished with him bc his wings are a Symbol but also store like 99% of his power. he only managed to escape after months of meticulous planning

and so yuuji takes him home and nurses him back to health and wow thosere some weird scars. and gojos super hostile and suspicious at first but also cant really leave bc he has v little strength

but yuujis used to cantankerous behaviors and the dread of a man abt to die and unsure what to do with how he feels abt it. and so he just takes care and takes care and takes care of gojo even cleaning up his messes and doing demeaning tasks

and NOBODY'S ever done anything like this for Gojo just helped him just bc he's a person and not a god who could save them or fight for them (or a heavenly soldier or smthg im still figuring it out)

and so obviosuly he ends up slowly falling in love with Yuuji and Yuuji with him in return. and their sweet domestic life is rudewly interrupted by Plots of the heavenly AND demonly kind. (rude)

and kenjaku is defeated and sukuna's cult ripped apart (bloodily) and gojo refuses to return 'home'

after yuuji dies (which gojo mourns hugely) he actually recieves a blessing from the Heavens for his good deeds or smthg which the gods are SUPER mad abt but like. lol they dont get to decide.

so yuuji becomes a god. and he's like the god of persistent kindnesses or smthg bc i want him to be ok? and u know they live happily ever after

BONUS!

gojo becomes even more whimsical and capricious and actually answers his followers' prayers something bc he has TIME for that now instead of constantly being blood soaked and used and fighting fighting fighting and he blooms into this silly sweet guy that dotes on his husband and is a little um. eccentric? crazy?

(SHH u idiot u cant say crap like that shut up they protect the village shut up! and u know what itadori-sama makes the best freaking jams so if u insult his husband he won't share any with u which is ur loss bc they are literally Divine made from fruits his husband gifted him from the Heavenly Realms so srsly. just. shut up. i want jam.)

Fake Angel by Kevan Goy

[lostinlovingrevery]

"You know how animals have displays to attract mates? Logan is no different. When hes in the mood, hell puff himself out to you, do things he thinks youll like. I mean, i suppose avg males do this too but logan gets repetitive over it until you notice. "

This is too cute 🥹 Could I maybe request a drabble based off this? (Sorry if you already got a message similar to this, my wifi is being weird and I can't tell if it actually sent lol)

A/N: Thank you for this ask!! Aren't drabbles supposed to be 100 words? IDK, but this is more of cute fanfic with 1400+ word count! I hope this is what you wanted!

I imagined a F!Reader but I didn't use any pronouns or describe readers body so it could be GN!

I pictured trilogy! Logan too bc I felt like he was the one most likely to act like this honestly LOL. I tried to use the 4 things you'd see when it comes to mating displays - Looks, Strength, Food, and Gifts. (I just kept picturing him like those birds from birds of paradise video)

Courtship Rituals

Warnings: Just Logan being needy ;), Suggestive ending ;) ;)

It’s been an extremely busy day. 

Aside from the meetings, the classes, chores, and various other activities that had taken up the schedule, it left little time for you to be with Logan. 

Which he was totally fine with by the way. He knew you were busy. 

Still, he’d stop by your study. “You done yet bub?” he’d ask, as he put his palms on your desk, seemingly puffing out his chest, the muscles of his arms bulging out as if he were flexing them. It was hard for you to not get distracted by him, especially since he was wearing a white t-shirt that fit very tightly around his torso; You swore you could make out his pecs through them. He actually looked really good since you’ve seen him early this morning- still asleep in bed. His hair looked especially good today, and he trimmed his beard to look a little neater. Not to mention he had on those jeans that fit his ass snuggly - the ones that you can never stop staring at. 

God he’s so hot

You couldn’t allow yourself to be distracted though- Charles absolutely needed you to finish some research by tonight, so you couldn’t stop. 

“Sorry baby,” You said sympathetically, “It’s gonna be a bit. I’m busy today y’know?” 

You felt so guilty the way he visibly deflated, you reached out to grab his hand. “Later, ok?” You kissed the space between his knuckles, and he forced a smile, before leaving you alone to do your work. 

Later you were in your classroom, getting things set up and preparing for your next class as you write your lesson plan on the chalkboard, you happened to turn your head to the window- where Logan was conveniently outside your classroom window in the yard, working out with nothing but his sweatpants on and his shirt off. You could see the sweat glistening off his skin, once again- you felt an incredible urge to go be with him, but you couldn’t- since your next class is in 20 minutes. 

You went to the window and watched him, where he spotted you eventually after he finished doing a set of pushups- you lost count at 50. He greeted you with a small wave of his hand, a smirk plastered on his face. You gave him a polite wave back, and blew a kiss to him. He waved for you to come out, but you shook your head- tapping your wrists and pointing to the classroom with your thumb. He shrugged, and nodded understandingly- but deflated once again. 

During lunch, you stopped into the kitchen to grab something to eat, finding Logan in there already. He looked up at the sound of you entering, and smiled. 

“Was just about to get you. Made you lunch.” He says, turning around and presenting the plate- one of your favorite lunches. Grilled cheese (Extra cheesy of course with 3 different types of cheeses) Homemade fries with sea salt, and a small cup of tomato soup. Your stomach growled loudly.

“Lo!” You smiled taking the plate, “That’s so sweet, thank you-” You reached down to take a bite of a fry, your eyes rolled back and groaned dramatically. “Oh that’s SO good.” You reached up to peck him on the lips, as he smiled proudly down at you. He figured, if his impressive muscles and body weren’t enough to sway you away from your work - then this would.

The way to anyone's heart - food. 

“You done for the day? Maybe we could spend some time-”

“Professor!” 

The sound of Rogues voice came into the room, distracting you and Logan. “Hi, sorry- you said you would help me out with my science project?” She asks you, you swallowed your fry and nodded. 

“I did, just give me a moment-” You inform her, turning back to Logan who’s deadpan expression made you want to laugh. “Sorry sweetheart, later?” You ask, pecking his lips again with a loud smooch.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, his very best to not show his disappointment, watching you walk away with Rogue- and the plate of food in your hands. 

You were talking to Jean in the hall, complaining about all the work you had to do. Some of it your fault- stuff you had been procrastinating, but some of it just piled on suddenly. Not to mention it was your turn on the roster to cook everyone dinner, and you had tons of laundry to do- another thing you put off. 

Logan came around the corner, his arm sliding across your waist as he kissed your cheek. “Hey sweetheart.” He says lowly to you in that deep timber voice that drives you crazy- and he knows it too. He gave a courteous nod to Jean. 

“What you got there Logan?” Jean asks, noticing he was holding something behind his back. He pulled his arm from his back, revealing to you a bouquet of wildflowers. You gasped.

“Lo, these are beautiful!” You smiled taking them. Jean chuckled, 

“I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.” She teased, turning and walking away, leaving you and Logan alone. He braced an elbow against the wall looking down at you as you admired and sniffed the wildflowers. 

“Thought you’d like them.” He says. You beamed up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I was thinking…” His other hand went to your hip, as he straightened his back out- practically towering over you. “If you got some free time now we should-”

“Hey! You busy?” Scott interrupted, pointing at you, then noticing the flowers, and Logans demeanor over you. Not to mention the absolute scowl Logan was giving him. “Uh, nevermind-”

You laughed, playfully hitting Logans arm. “What do you need Scott?” 

Logan let out an exasperated sigh. He loved you, but boy do you always jump at the chance to help someone out… Guess that’s why he loved you. You were always great at lending a hand. You, however, have been terrible at picking up signals. He dropped his arm from the wall, stepping back to give you space. Tuning Scotts annoying voice out and looking down at you with adoration. It wasn’t just the sex that he was wanting- he was just feeling needy for you today, but you were too busy and had a lot on your plate.

He took the bouquet from you, telling you he’ll put them in a vase while Scott stole you away from him. Rejected twice, and stolen away from him twice. It did not boost his ego. 

Finally, the evening came, and you were in bed, relaxing with a book. You had changed out of your clothes and into Logan's shirt, while Logan was in the shower, the steam and scent of soap wafting through the bathroom door of your shared bedroom. You heard the tap turn off, and you closed your book, setting it on your bedside table- next to the vase of flowers he got you- as you waited for him. 

He came out, towel wrapped low on his hips, droplets of water dripping down his hairy chest and torso, and he looked surprised to see you in bed. “Oh, hey.” He greets. “Didn’t know you when you’d be back.” He mutters under his breath.

“Came in just as you got in the shower.” You smiled, tilting your head and crossing your arms, noticing his slight attitude. He nodded, turning to pull out some clothes. “Logan.” You called out, and he turned his head. You brought your hand up and beckoned him with your finger. 

His grumpy face disappeared and he smiled, turning back to you and walking to the bed, dropping the towel to the floor as he kneeled onto the bed and climbed between your legs, his arms wrapping around your waist and upper back. 

You brought your hands up into his hair, intertwining your fingers through the wet locks and you giggled. “You were missing me today weren’t you?” You smiled. His expression went soft, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his lips upturned to a small smile. 

“Yeah. I was.” He says softly. 

“You were like a peacock. You were totally strutting your stuff around me.” You teased. He rolled his eyes. 

“Didn’t work clearly.” He mutters. 

“So you admit it!” You laughed. “Cause since when did you work out outside my classroom window?”

A deep blush came across his face as he became embarrassed, looking away, before looking up at you with big pleading eyes. You hummed, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss that he quickly deepened, pressing himself deeper against your body.

Parting with a gasp, you ran your thumb across his cheek. “For the record, I missed you too.”

[spacegyaru]

i can't take this edit off from my mind... i knew i have to write something about nagi 😭

cw: 18+ only! minors, dni pls! also, all characters are aged 21+. sexual themes ahead! also, mentions of alcohol and sm0king! / nagi as ur boy best friend (with benefits ;3) /also, he's a bit of a st0ner here so high s3x!

imagine nagi seishiro as your boy best friend who just wanna comfort you after a devastating breakup.

it wasn't supposed to happen like this. nagi was supposed to be your best friend. but it happened anyways.

you were so heartbroken after finding out that your bf cheated on you with another girl. you immediately broke up with him and you ended up crying and driving while on the way to nagi's house.

so you actually end up there. nagi saw you crying. your eyes were red and your cheeks were puffy.

nagi knew that your bf, now ex, is an asshole. but he's bad at feelings so he tells you something in between the lines of 'i told you so'.

you had a small argument with nagi but you tried to avert the topic by saying that you don't wanna talk about it. so nagi sighed and said that you could stay for the night while the both of you smoke and drink together.

so you started smoking some weed with him... it started off as just a small session between the both of you, with some strong beer involved of course. both of you were playing tekken while doing it.

somehow, while ranting about your ex, you said something in between the lines of 'he's not even good in bed' and boi you got his attention

you started saying things like 'his cock is too small', 'he can't kiss properly', 'it doesn't even hit the back of my throat', or 'he never made me squirt'...

now, nagi just looked at you weirdly. he asked you: "if he's gonna call you right now, are you going to pick up?"

of course, as a heartbroken girl, you didn't say anything at first... but you nodded and said "i'm sorry okay, i'm just a human..." before grabbing ur phone and checking if your ex texted

nagi rolled his eyes and tossed it on the bed. as you were trying to reach it, it caused you to fall on his lap.

well, for some reason, it started with doing a sh0tgun (sm0king thru the mouth)— then you ended up making out, not even minding the game anymore.

the clothes started to come off and eventually... both of you ended up fucking on his bed.

and that was the first time you actually felt good about it and orgasmed.

seishiro nagi flipped you in three fucking positions— and you can't even count how many times you came from his touch and from his cock.

the w33d even made the feeling better. nagi's touch felt sensual yet intense.

the morning after came and you realized what just happened. you looked at nagi with wide eyes and apologized, immediately putting on your clothes and running away. he was still half-asleep when you did this.

not gonna lie, the night felt so good and despite the w33d, you were still conscious. and fucking him was a fully-conscious decision. but you just didn't expect the aftermath to be so damn awkward.

that same night, your best friend, nagi called you— now, it's your choice to pick it up or not. 😉

okay guys im sorry for edging yall again but i might make pt. 2 for this too— im currently finishing the pt. 2 for kaiser's story 😌

[sinbiis]

would you fall in love with me again?

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ husband!xavier x sick!queen!reader

⟢ synopsis : what happens when Xavier suddenly shows up back at the palace? will his Queen remember him? if so, would she forgive him for abandoning her all those years again? he swears that he left to find a cure, so please don’t hate him...

⟢ a/n : so.. this is actually my first, uhm, imagine? I'm a big Xavier girlie, and there are barely any stories about him ˙◠˙ so I figured, why not create one?? and pretend i'm the mc teehee so this is for all my Xavier gfs out there!! i see you 😚😚 I also blame the fuckin' song 'Would You Fall in Love With Me Again' my delusions make me act out the scenario pls stop, it's such a good song😩 i get too emotionally attached to songs, it's a curse

⟢warnings : small angst, mentions of death, sad ˙◠˙

⟢ w.c : 1.8k

©sinbiis, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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“Y/N!”

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That voice..! 

The palace doors swung open, revealing a face you never thought you’d see again. From a distance, his silhouette was unmistakable—a figure once loved, now deemed a traitor to his homeland. His beautiful paintings had once adorned the walls of your bedroom, each stroke a memory of what had been. The shock rooted you to the spot, your breath catching as your tearful gaze fell on the man you once loved. With his disheveled hair and shaky breath, he took a couple of steps forward before the guards stopped him. His disheveled hair clung to his forehead, and his breath came in shallow, labored gasps. He took a few tentative steps forward, but the guards were quick to block his path. “Halt!” one barked, his spear held steady against Xavier’s neck, the other aimed squarely at his abdomen.

Xavier remained still, his eyes hard and unyielding, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his blade. He wasn’t here for a fight—but the fire in his gaze was enough to make the officers hesitate. His glare lingered, cutting through the tension as he stared down the men who dared to stand in his way. They would not keep him from you.

Your legs trembled, barely able to support your weight, and with a shaky breath, you collapsed to your knees, your palms pressing against the cool marble floor for stability. Thoughts raced through your mind, a whirlwind of confusion, trying desperately to make sense of it all—why he was back. But despite the chaos in your mind, one thing was painfully clear: Xavier was home.

You pushed yourself back to your feet, each step unsteady as your heels echoed on the marble. You rushed down the stairs, heart pounding in your chest, only to slow as you reached the bottom. There, at a distance, you stopped, your hand instinctively pressing against your chest. Each hesitant step forward made the gap between you both feel insurmountable. He was so close, yet you couldn’t bridge the distance. The ache in your chest grew unbearable. You felt the tears well up, mascara beginning to streak down your face, but you didn’t care. Not now.

“...Is it you?” Your voice was barely a whisper, cracking under the weight of so many unanswered questions. Xavier’s heart twisted at the sound of your pain. He never wanted this for you—never wanted to be the source of your sorrow. Yet here he was, a stranger in your eyes, the cause of all your hurt.

You took another step, but your body faltered, frozen by the depth of the moment. Your heart fought against the overwhelming need to close the distance, but something held you back.

 No matter how much you longed to be in his arms, to finally feel his warmth after all these years, you have to remember. He abandoned you. He left you. You remember clear as day that one moment that forever changed your feelings. Your feelings for your husband. That day would forever be etched into your heart.

My star has left me, and this time... He will not return.

At least, that's what you continued to tell yourself as the years passed. But here he was. So close. 

Xavier remained in place, hesitant to take another step closer. He wanted you to come to him on your own accord. He wouldn’t rush you. But God, did he long to hold you.. “Your Majesty, please… let me hold you, please,” Xavier pleaded, sheathing his sword before taking a step closer. “Don’t take another step-!” One guard shouts, about to use the rear end of the spear on Xavier’s abdomen before a faint “stop” is heard. “B, But your Majesty-” the other guard states, hesitant to lower his weapon away from Xavier’s neck. “Please leave, everyone.” The Queen ordered, making her way towards the two guards and her lover. 

“But-”

“Now.”

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The grand doors slammed shut behind the final guard, leaving you alone with Xavier. Despite the sudden urge to approach him, your fear kept you rooted to the spot. Sensing your anxiety, Xavier started to move towards you, but before he could take a single step, your hand connected with his cheek. The stinging sensation left him dumbfounded; his head still turned away as realization set in. Your raised hand and tear-filled, furrowed brows revealed the anger and hurt coursing through you. Just as you were about to land another blow, his hand intercepted yours before he pulled you into his embrace. Your clenched fists pressed against his chest, trying your best to take your anger out on him. But you just couldn’t, not when you were sobbing against his chest. “I-Is it really you, my love?” A gentle, shaky hand was gently pressed against his cheek, and in that moment, everything felt real. Xavier leaned into your touch, a gentle kiss pressed against your palm before he kissed the back of your hand. 

“It’s me, my star. I have returned to you.” Everything still felt like a dream. A cruel dream, truly. Knowing that when you would awaken, he’d disappear. But this was real. The air felt thicker around the two; some tension remained in the air, but mainly on your part. Despite having Xavier in front of you, your heart still ached at the sight of him. “You look different..” You start, trailing your fingertips across his pale face. His frame looked smaller; his eyes lacked the usual shine he once carried. “Were you the only one to return?” Xavier’s hands trailed down your waist before settling on your hips. He leaned closer, his forehead pressed against yours as his soft voice spoke, “I know that you’ve been waiting, my star. I know, and I’m so s-sorry.” Xavier was usually able to keep his composure during tough situations, but this time was different. He couldn’t bring himself to answer your question. He couldn’t tell you what he had done. 

“We weren’t able to find a cure—” His voice faltered, his grip tightening on the soft fabric of your dress. “I… I left to find one, and I failed.” His head dropped, resting heavily on your shoulder as you remained still, your hands gently wrapping around his forearms. “I left you to rule over Philos alone.” His tears soaked through your dress, each drop a reminder of his pain, and it was enough to pull you from your daze. Your brows furrowed, and your grip tightened before you slowly pulled back from his embrace. “Why have you returned? After all these years, you suddenly feel the need to return home.” His eyes were desperate, searching yours as if begging to understand why he did this. 

His hands dropped to his sides as he saw the way you flinched at his touch. The silence between you was thick, suffocating, and he could feel the years of distance pressing in from all sides. He had expected this—expected the coldness, the anger, the betrayal—but knowing it and facing it were two entirely different things. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest. “Not after everything I’ve put you through. I left you here, alone, knowing you were getting weaker, knowing you were fighting to stay alive without me, without anyone. But I thought... I thought if I could just find a cure if I could save you—”

“You didn’t,” you interrupted, your voice soft but sharp. There was no malice, only truth. The years taught you to guard your heart and mask the pain. But his return, his apology, shattered that careful facade. “You didn’t need to find a cure, Xavier.” Your chest tightened, the familiar ache in your heart pulsing, reminding you of what you’d already known: you couldn’t hold onto hope anymore. Hope that he would come back, hope that you’d be saved. “I know what’s to happen, and I’ve accepted it.” Your hands reach out to gently clasp his, giving them a gentle squeeze as your eyes lock onto one another, “I need you to accept it, too.”

“I can’t accept it! I don’t want to accept it, not again..” Xavier cries out, his hand grasping the purple tassel that lay against his clothing. His grasp was shaky as he tried to calm himself down, thinking about the inevitable fate you’d meet.. He couldn’t keep doing this. “I don’t want to lose you, my star.” Taking a small step forward, your body followed and moved forward, your arms wrapping around your lover's torso, face pressed against his chest. “Xavier,” your soft voice slightly muffled, you took a deep breath in before releasing a shaky sigh, “no matter what happens, I’ll always be with you, okay?” You pull back slightly, tilting your head upwards so he can meet your teary gaze. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your wife, and you’ll always be my husband.” 

For a long moment, he just stared at you, as though waiting for you to take it all back, as though somehow, you might soften the truth with a word, a gesture, something that would take the sting out of it. But you didn’t. You stood there, steady in your resolve, your eyes filled with the quiet certainty of someone who had already gone through the process of grieving—and now, only needed to accept.

The tension in the air was palpable, the silence heavy with the weight of what was unsaid. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and took a shaky step back. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the denial cracking, splintering, until it was no longer something he could hold onto. “You’re right,” he whispered, the words sounding foreign on his tongue. He shook his head as if trying to shake off the truth, but it stuck to him like a weight he couldn’t shake. “I… I kept thinking there was more time. That I could find something. But… no matter what happens, you’ll always be my wife, and I’ll always be your husband.”

A part of him didn’t want to come to terms with what was going to happen. Once you pass, Philos will no longer prosper, but at least you’ll be at peace.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You’ll be at peace, but he couldn’t accept that. Not as he stared at your commemorative statue that sat outside the palace. Your beautiful smile forever engraved into marble. Your plaque reading; ‘Queen Y/N of Philos. Radiant, beautiful, intelligent. Thank you, you will forever be missed.’

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

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