#with the idea that they deliver a bundle and return home

[bonefall]

I like to imagine instead of like ‘did your parents drop you as a baby’ it’s something like ‘did your guide take your brain’ or something to that effect

God assigned you stupid. Sorry.

That's good, I like that too!

"The best part of you stayed in the stars"

"They put your face on backwards"

"StarClan makes no mistakes; and you are a real masterpiece of stupidity"

"Somewhere out there a litter of mice is missing a genius"

[reiderwriter]

Okay, I just wanted to start off and say I love your stories. They're always so good. You've reblogged one of my stories a while, and I actually squealed and scared the crap out of my friend. But yeah, I live you and your stories 💖💖💖

So I read your one story of Spencer being a soon-to-be dad, and I really like the idea of seeing Spencer and reader as actual parents just feeling the emotions. I thought something based around their daughter (because Spencer's a girl dad) hitting a milestone like walking, talking, or something even bigger like the first day of school. I don't know if that makes sense, but either way, I hope you like it!

A/N: I love the idea of new-dad Spencer. He deserves a loving family and a baby so much 😭 I combined this request with one of the prompts for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic challenge which you can find the details for here! ❤️

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Masterlist

You never thought leaving to go for a spa day would be one of the hardest things you'd have to do in your life, but here you were. 

In the ten months since you'd given birth to your daughter, you'd been stressed, lacking in sleep, leaking fluids from places that you forgot could have fluids leak from, and you'd been totally, irreversibly, head over heels in love. 

Both with the tiny little gremlin you'd given birth to, and with the man that you watched become a father. 

Spencer Reid was a great dad. 

He'd had a fair amount of anxiety leading up to the birth, worrying about every detail, talking to geneticists, driving you to and from each check up or attending via video call if he was on a case. After she was born, he helped out as best he could. 

For a man who had delivered a baby before and was absolutely great with his teammates' kids, he couldn't hold her for the first week without an intense look of panic crossing his features.

“Y/N, what happens if I drop her?” 

“Y/N, she sneezed. What if I got her sick?”

“Y/N, she fell asleep, I can't move.” 

A genius with an IQ of 187 slashed to 60 in front of a pretty girl. His tiny daughter had him thrown through a loop he got seriously stuck in. 

He was still helpful, and he got used to all his new duties and tasks within a week, but watching those cute clueless expressions pass over his face now and then endeared you to him that much more. 

He knew everything, but he had to learn this right there with you. 

So yes, leaving for a relaxing spa visit was hard. 

Spencer had been on a case for the last four days, his first since your daughter had arrived and the official end to his paternity leave. You'd been happy to see him get back to it, in all honesty. Spencer’s job, his research, and his work at the FBI were like muscles he needed to stretch. It wasn't that he couldn't live without them, but there would always be a part of him that felt stiff or unsure of himself without the possibilities of a case to unravel or some theorizing to do. 

You were slightly panicked at the thought of being alone with your daughter for four days, but you managed. With a phone call home every single night where he asked you about every single thing your little bundle of joy had done outside of his watchful gaze. 

Now, it was your turn. 

Spencer had insisted on it upon returning from his case. He got four nights of relative peace after 20 months of waking up with the baby, sleeping with the baby, napping when the baby napped, carrying the baby around when it became evident that she was desperately scared of not being the center of attention. 

He came back with a spring in his step, and the deep desire to see you get a solid night's rest the way he'd been able to. 

You'd tried shooting him down, multiple times, to no reward. 

“Spencer, you didn't exactly just up and go off gallivanting. You were working.”

“I was working, and I still got more rest than you. I really needed that sleep and time away, Y/N, and I think you do, too. Now, please, go away,” he'd pulled you into his arms when you'd put the baby down that night to reveal his brilliant plans. 

“Just for the night. Go away for a lovely overnight break. Not indefinitely. I love you.” His panicked confession at the end sent you into giggles, that with a few well times kisses had you reluctantly agreeing to the girls trip he'd planned you. 

The BAU girls had been roped into accompanying you on the trip, which honestly meant that he'd be getting status updates any time he asked for one. 

JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Tara were all going to strong arm you into the car if need be to carry you off to the nearest 5(ish) star Hotel and Spa. 

And that's exactly what happened. 

The man had even packed the bag for you to send you off, had made you breakfast in bed and had run to every sound your daughter had made from dusk until dawn so you didn't have to lift a finger. 

“Y/N, you're resting today.”

“But-” 

“No. No buts. Just rest.”

“At least let me hold her for a second to say goodbye.” He blinked at you for a few seconds before his stubbornly helpful face turned softer, and he quickly handed your daughter back for a small cuddle. 

With a lingering hug, you told your daughter - who absolutely did not care one bit that you would be wandering out of the house soon enough - that you'd be back in the morning, kissed your husband on the lips, and were swiftly kidnapped by JJ and Emily. 

To your credit, you lasted two whole hours before breaking down. 

The drive to the hotel was quick and peaceful, and it felt nice to breathe in the fresh air without having to also check for various baby smells. 

You checked in fast, and all gathered in the in-hotel restaurant for brunch and mimosas, and then it hit you. Another mother walked in with a stroller, and you were blubbering. 

Your bottom lip wobbled, and the rest of the world ceased to exist as you gave in to the emotions. 

You knew, of course, that you were going to have to leave your daughter at some point. It wasn't healthy for either of you to have attachment issues, and you didn't want to hinder your daughters development by sticking too close - but that didn't mean you didn't miss her. 

JJ noticed your watery eyes first. “Oh no, I know that look,” she smiled over her drink, taking a sip. 

“What? What look?” You said, but giving yourself massively away with a good sniff and watery blink. 

“You lasted longer than I did. I couldn't go half an hour without turning my car around and heading back to Henry, and I swear it was only worse with Michael.” 

You giggled a bit as you wiped your eyes. 

“Do you think… do you think we could go back? Just for a little bit. I just want to check on them.”

The women passed a look between them and then nodded back at you, obviously having expected this. 

“Actually, we didn't book any spa treatments until the afternoon. We had a feeling something like this would happen,” Tara smiled at you, and you snorted in surprise as you dabbed away your tears with a handkerchief. 

“We are laying some ground rules though,” Emily said, a stern tone fighting the playful smile on her face. 

“We can peak through a window, but we're not going in. And we're not going to call ahead and let Spencer know. The kid needs to know you feel confident in his parenting skills, and if he's just got the baby settled and you come back in, it won't be easy to calm her down again.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, but you were already halfway to the car by the time you could finish the sentence. 

The girls pulled up a block away and let you walk calmly back to your front door. 

You'd since agreed to a time limit and not to unlock the door. Emily went ahead to scope out the house, communicating with JJ on the phone who was holding your hand to stop you from wringing them. 

You'd never been a part of the BAU, but somehow you felt like a team member on a case getting ready to stake out a target. 

When Emily gave you the signal, the rest of the girls gave you space, and you ducked down to peer into your ground floor window. 

Spencer was on his stomach with your daughter, and they were having what seemed like a riveting conversation. 

“And so then I obviously got tongue-tied. Like I said, Daddy isn't good at talking to people, let alone beautiful women like Mommy.” 

“Be be be da.”

“Exactly. I really embarrassed myself, actually. I went up to her and said ‘do you have a number?’ and she was so confused.”

“Ba!” 

“Yeah, she sounded like that, too. I kept talking more and more, and she couldn't understand what I meant. She thought I was asking about her age at one point. I was just getting redder and redder, and then she grabbed my hand and led me to a seat at the back of the bookshop because she thought I was sick.”

He smiled down at the infant again, still babbling to herself.

“I was sick, of course, but it was just love sickness. I still am.” 

The tears that you'd delicately wiped away earlier came back hot and heavy now as you resisted the urge to crawl through the window to your precious family. 

Spencer was telling your daughter the story of how he first asked you out, near disastrously, and from the sounds of it, he wasn't done telling stories. 

“I really love your Mommy, you know. She's wonderful.”

“Mmmm,”

“See, you think so too. Everyone thinks so.” 

“Mmmma” 

“Yes, your Mama. You’re just like her, everyone loves you, too.” 

“Mama.”

You heard Spencer's breath hitch as you closed a hand over your mouth to stop a shocked squeal from coming out. 

“T-That's right. Mama. One more time, say mama.”

“Mama,” the little baby squealed in delight, reacting to her fathers utter joy. 

“You're speaking. One more time, Mama.”

“Mama!” 

“Your mama is going to be so mad,” Spencer whispered, grabbing his daughter up in one more careful hug and kissing her face as she giggled delightfully. “We need to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, you'll have you say your first word in front of her, and we'll both act surprised, okay? Promise?”

The gargle he got in response was enough to have your shoulders shaking as the others extricated you from your own front lawn. 

Back in the car, you broke down into giggles and tears, shoulders rising and falling in sobs and laughter intermittently. 

“Is this a total psychotic break or just a symptom of seeing Spencer as a dad?” Penelope asked, nudging you with her elbow as you tried to regain your composure.

“It's… whew, it's okay. We can go back now.” 

“You sure?” JJ asked from the driver's seat, and you nodded once again.

“Yeah. I'm fine now. I'm really good.” 

The women all offered you similar smiles as you drove away, blissful and content. 

[boxofbonesfic]

Drabble idea: your next door neighbour is reclusive and you rarely see him but you do notice the strange noises you hear during the full moon and the women who enter his apartment and don't come out.

(Werewolf! Curtis Everett)

Title: Moonsign

Pairing: Werewolf!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: You pick the wrong night to return your neighbor’s mis-delivered mail.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Violence, Monsterfucking-adjacent, Violence, Werewolf AU

A/N: so i fell in love with this prompt—

You pause, your fist half a centimeter from the door as a sharp howl splits the air. Maybe he has a dog. You’ve never actually seen your reclusive neighbor out with one around the block, but working nights has left you decidedly out of the loop on neighborhood events. The block’s been a ghost town lately anyway, what with over half the buildings covered in red and yellow tape signaling that they would soon be torn down or repurposed into housing neither you nor your roommates would be able to afford.

The pile in your hands consists of fifteen letters plus a small package you’d opened by mistake—a dried bundle of beautiful purple flowers you’d had to look at the card inside to identify as decorative monkshood. Behind the house, the sun is setting bright orange and red, casting the dreary porch in shadow. I’m overthinking this.

You knock.

The door creaks open, and you stand, stunned in the doorway with your arm still raised as you stare into the dim hallway beyond.

“H-hello?” You croak, your throat suddenly tight. You drop your arm. “Mr. Everett?” There’s no response, at least not one you can hear from the porch. The sound of cicadas grows in your ears as you shift nervously from foot to foot. I’ll just.. leave it inside. On a table or something.

“I’m, um, I’m coming in,” you follow the statement with a timid step across the threshold. “I’ve just um, I’ve got some mail of yours, I think it was delivered by mistake.” The rug muffles the sound of your footsteps as you shuffle toward the warm yellow light at the end of the hall. It’s a kitchen—and it’s empty.

You set the mail down on the small table. “Sorry I opened one by mistake,” you call, before shaking your head. “What am I doing,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There’s nobody even home.” That’s fine, all the better. You don’t want to have to face your neighbor after opening his mail. As you turn to head back outside, your foot catches against the leg of a chair pulled back from the table. You stumble, letting out a loud curse.

“Goddammit—” It’s only just out of your lips before you freeze, your stomach tightening. Your cry of pain seems mirrored somehow, like an echo—

Like you’re not alone in this house.

You go to speak, but find your mouth dry, and throat tight as you cup your hands around your mouth.

“Hello?” It comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry for intruding, the door was open and—” You tremble as the answering animal bellow cuts your nervous excuse in half, the unsaid words hanging unspoken in the air in front of your trembling mouth.

Is he hurt or something?

“Mr. Everett?”

For a moment, the house is so silent you can hear the traffic outside, and then the same agonized wail reverberates up through the floorboards, setting your heart racing. You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the terrified whimper that threatens to escape. It sounds again and again until you realize it isn’t just an anguished, pained yell— someone is speaking to you.

“—lp me,” the words are barely discernible, like the one speaking them can barely manage. “Help me…”

There is another door in the kitchen, one that doesn’t lead back out into the rest of the small house. It, like the front door, opens easily with little effort. The heavy door swings open on silent hinges, exposing a set of dimly lit cement stairs winding down into the dark basement.

“Mr. Everett are you—are you down here?” Your reluctant voice takes a long time to bounce back to your ears. “Do-do you need me to call someone? Did you fall?”

“It… hurts…”

You aren’t sure why the thought of going down those stairs fills you with a primordial sense of dread, like your body is painfully aware of something your waking mind isn’t. You hesitate, but then another anguished wail accompanied by a sick sounding crack spurs you into action. He was hurt down there, and your waffling wasn’t helping.

You shine your phone light on the stairs as you descend, each step dragging icy fingers slowly down your spine. You swallow thickly as you reach the bottom, cool sweat prickling at your temples. The bare bulb hanging by the landing gives off comically little light, forcing you to squint, your brows furrowed as you stare into the gloom. The house upstairs, like most of the buildings on the block, was an old construction, built some time in the sixties or seventies—but this concrete was new.

And the basement… it’s bigger than you’d thought possible, the walls invisible to you either by darkness or design. The air down here is still and heavy, and you cannot will yourself to break the pregnant silence. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

A sickening crack shatters the quiet, and the pained noise that follows is louder and closer than ever before. You squeak with fear, before covering your mouth with your hands. It stinks down here, you realize, a tart, copper scent that you finally recognize as a mix of sweat and blood.

“You…came.” The words sound pleased, despite the speaker’s obvious pain. And that voice… You squeeze your arms around yourself, taking a step back towards the landing. It was like an animal growling words. It doesn’t even sound human.

Your heel bumps the concrete as you begin to back away.

“M-Mr. Everett, I’m going to g-g-go call someone f-for you—”

“I wai-ted for yo-ou,” the voice rasps, continuing on as if you haven’t spoken at all. “Call-ed fo-r yo-ou.” Something shifts in the dark—something big. There is a heavy grunt, and then the sound of metal dragging against the concrete. A whimper worms its way past your lips as slowly, the weak glow of the swaying bulb above your head reflects off of two pale blue eyes, glinting in the dark. The thing stops moving, the dragging sound suddenly ceasing.

“He thi-nks this will sto-op me,” the sound of the chain striking concrete is like the thunder outside, the spark briefly illuminating—something. You can’t comprehend it—huge and hulking, dark fur—“There is no ca-ge for me that he can bui-ld that I cannot destro-oy.”

There is a sound like metal crunching and then your legs are moving before you tell them to, scrambling up the stairs on your hands and feet like an animal as a rasping sound like laughter follows at your heels.

You’re barely through the door when you hear it on the stairs, something big coming up behind you—you bolt towards the front door, a scream erupting from your throat. You grab the door handle—

As claws tear through your overalls, splitting the skin underneath like hot knives. You fall forward with a cry against the door. It knocks the wind out of you, and you fall to your knees, your eyes blurry with tears. It’s like a wolf, you realize as it looms over you—but like a man, too, standing on thickly furred legs with an unnatural, canine bend.

Pale blue eyes sit above its dark muzzle, and they sparkle with dark amusement. You open your mouth to scream again and it lunges, burying sharp white teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You can taste your own blood, smell it in the air around you as you gurgle. Your blood gleams on its muzzle when it pulls away, dripping down onto your face as it hums.

“He will have to keep you now.” Terrified tears track down your cheeks as the bite mark on your shoulder begins to burn. “Like he wants to.”

End

[theship-thewalrus]

One more, one more ending for the Aegon fic.

Rhaenyra and reader get into an argument, and the stress of it all causes the reader to miscarry. Nobody else can get close to her, so Aegon has to help her deliver a stillborn.

Hi anon! I love everyone's endings ideas! You all seem to hate happy endings lmao >:) Don't worry I hate them too. This takes a couple days after the dinner. Hope you all enjoy!

aegon ii targaryen x targaryen! female! reader

pretty much the ask

word count: 1029 words reading time: about 6 minutes warnings: miscarriage, blood

part 1 || part 2 || ending 1 || ending 2 || ending 4 || headcanon 1 || headcanon 2

For a moment you thought this conversation with your mother would allow the pair of you to reconnect. To finally be some sort of family again but as yout voice raised to match your mother's, you realised that perhaps it was all behind you now. The times you ran to her when you were younger when you were scared or upset, how she would bundle you up in her loving embrace. Was it all nothing to her? Did she simply do it out of obligation? To show she could be a good mother?

"You betray you were family! And for what? Love? Aegon does not love you! Stop being so foolish!" Rhaenyra's voice bounced off the wall, and the rage on her face was unmistakable. Her once pale face flooded with blood. Tears well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push them back. Yet they fall down your cheeks, wetting your face and the front of your dress.

"Do not speak about him in such a way! He is kind! He is trying his best and you simply refuse to see that!" Despite wanting to reconnect with your mother, to have her take you into her loving embrace. You could not allow such an insult about your husband, the man you loved, to go unquestioned. Pushing makes you sad you try to draw on the rage you feel, matching your mother's energy. The older woman laughs in your face, thinking you are joking. There was no way you would choose Aegon over her. She was your mother.

"I should've never left you here! What have they done to my sweet girl? He feels you with his child and now you are adrift. Come home with me, return to your real family." Her voice lowers, trying to coax you to her side. To make you believe you were misled, that she can set you right and heal you. But you were not misled or broken, something that needed help. As Rhaenyra moved forward you took a harsh step back as though she burned you. The look on her face dropped, her arms resting at her side once more. Her face hardened "Fine, I see where your loyalty lies. You turn your back on your family for what?" Her words were filled with venom, as her eyes held nothing but disdain for you. Striding past you you can feel the anger and disgust roll off her in waves. It broke your heart, cutting you deeper than any sword.

The hallway felt ice cold without your mother's fire to warm it. Your tears flowed from your eyes with no restraint anymore, making your way to your chambers for some privacy. Upon pushing open the door of your chambers you saw the back of your husband. The person your mother was just shamelessly insulting right to your face, thinking that you would agree with her. He did not seem to notice you as he lounged on the plush couch, indulging himself in some food left by the maids. It made a watery smile appear on your face to see him, the stress from the argument with your mother leaving you for a moment.

"Darling?" His voice was soft as he looked over at you from his position on the couch. There was a small smile on his face until he took notice of your state, the tear streaks on your cheeks, your red-rimmed eyes, and the drops of blood splashing the ground under you. Jumping up from the couch the man had not moved so fast before, grabbing you firmly yet softly by the biceps. The liquid that you felt between your legs only truly registered to you when Aegon mentioned it. your mind to catch up in the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts about your mother.

The blood that began to flow from you only increased as the second passed. To much blood for it to be normal, something was incredibly wrong. "Aegon?" Your voice was full of fear as your knees buckled under you, the only thing keeping you from collapsing into the pool of blood was the hands Aegon had on you. The man did not know what to do, who to get, or how to help you. All he could do is watch. moving you to the bed he tried to calm your racing heart.

"No, no, no, Aegon, Aegon please." Your voice chanted as your head rested against the pilled your hands clawing at him. You did not want to be alone, to be left in this room. A fresh set of tears stream down your face as your eyes wander to the blood that now stained the white sheets. "I-I need to get the maester. You need help." His voice was weak, despite needing to be strong for you he couldn't. He was just as scared as you, worried for your health and the babies.

"No! No, please Aegon! Aegon stay pleas-" A moan of pain interrupts you as your grip on him tightens. You could feel your heart breaking, knowing what this meant. Your child was not well, something was wrong and you feared your child has not made it. Your heart breaks for the life you are never able to know. The child you will have hold in your arms, to hear them giggle. The perfect mixture of Aegon and yourself will never be greeted in the world. You will not hear their cr as they leave your body.

Aegon stayed with you, he could not leave you like this. Not as he saw the utter terror in his eyes, the fear in your grips. "I'll stay, I'll stay with you, my love." Pushing back the hair that stuck to your forehead he kissed you softly. Wanting to provide a little bit of comfort to you in any form he could. Another wave of pain made you twist in the bed, your body not being able to stand such utter pain.

The baby was coming, but instead of the child crying and announcing its arrival to the world. You would be wailing and mourning the life that was never lived.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Could you please write headcanons about modern Az and reader preparing to welcome the birth of their first baby….Azriel taking reader for maternity shopping , baby proofing their apartment and Az being just an overprotective husband 🥹😄….I’m currently pregnant and I’m due in next month so this idea just popped in my head ❤️

First of all, congrats!!! I am so so happy for you, it is such a great joy in life. I wish you and your little baby all the best❤️ feel free to update me when the little baby is here, I am so excited for you!!!

Azriel not letting you do anything that could only be a little exhausting "Here let me take that for you." "No way are you going to carry that." "No way, my lady, this is too heavy for you."

chuckling you will always give in, watching your mate dash through your shared place, carrying all sorts of things around

not only things also you "My love you don't need to walk." "Are you exhausted, baby, need me to carry you?" "Exhaustion is not good for the baby, here let me pick you up."

Azriel will build up the baby bed, obviously with the help of Rhys and Cass

and the will groan and grumble and sweat while doing that, putting wrong pieces together and then having to take it apart again and rebuild it

obviously they will celebrate when they are done and you watch them in amusement

baaaaths

Azriel will love nothing more than taking long and thorough baths with you in the evenings after long days

he put some essential oils in that are good for you, for the baby, for your belly

afterwards he will massage your belly with oil, scarred hands soothingly moving over the skin

and since we are in the bathroom already .....Azriel will obviously hold your hair when morning sickness kicks in

Azriel will also make sure there are no edges in house where your little baby could bump against

you tell him that it might be a little early for that

but Azriel insists that it can never be early enough

blood sugar checking – Azriel will always help you, making notes and helping you do the test

making sure you are well nourished, providing you with fruits and veggies etc.

baby clothes shopping

at first Az is like "yeah of course I will join you."

but gods once you are there, this man will be like on "shopping queen"

he will pick up every piece and pout and then put it into your basket

you will choose so many things you end up going home with 8 bags filled with just stuff for the baby – baby clothing, toys, napkins, shoes etc.

also on a sidewalk you will always walk on the inside, never close to the street

when passing people, Azriel's arm will be wrapped around you so no one can bump into you

also adding the birth, so when it is time

Azriel will be a bundle of nervousness and anxiety

he will make sure everything is packed, checking the hospital bag over five times

once in the deliver room Azriel will hold your hand throughout the whole ordeal of giving birth

he will kiss your head and whisper sweet nothings to you

with his first look at the little baby Azriel will cry, because she is so beautiful, and so tiny, and so fragile

for some medical checks your will be brought away for a moment

and the nervousness crashes into him once again

the baby is placed on his bare chest, so warm

she bubbles a little and snuggles into his chest and Azriel knows that from this moment on he will protect her with his life

once you have returned, you share his joy, cuddled on the bed together

[sematarygirls]

Thoughts on Carisi having a baby with his ADA SO? Sonny is just 😭❤️ everything you can ask for in your kid’s dad 😩 AND definitely the kind of man I would want in the delivery room with me

And well…Maybe, just maybe I’m going through some crazy baby fever phase 😭

꒰ sonny would literally be such an incredible dad and the most loving and loyal partner ever ꒱ 𝅄

you were a mess of emotions when you found out you were pregnant. you were worried about what it would mean for your career that you had put so much time into and had only barely scratched the surface of what you were prepared to do, but also, there was that part of you that was over the moon at the idea of starting a family with sonny.

him, being the man he was, reassured you that everything would be okay, and you two would figure it out together. he wanted to make you feel as supported and cared for as he possibly could.

he was there for you at every moment, from holding your hair back while you hunched over the toilet with morning sickness as he rubbed circles on your back and whispered soft, soothing words to letting you squeeze his hand in a death grip and take out your stress and frustration on him as you delivered the baby.

your mood swings drove you crazy, and you felt guilty for being a handful, but sonny was patient and understanding. he knew you were stressed and your hormones were going haywire, so he didn't hold it against you. plus, you were carrying an entire human inside of you; you had the right to be cranky.

he was concerned about you the entire time, doting on you and always making sure you were taken care of. when the doctor ordered bedrest toward the end of your pregnancy, he would scold you for getting up at any time that wasn't absolutely necessary, and if you had to get up, he would be at your side in an instant to help you.

you tried to tell him that you had two perfectly fine working legs, but he would not hear it. you and that baby were everything to him, and he was going to make damn sure that you were taken care of, even if you thought you didn't need it.

"you're not supposed to be up," he scolded you after coming home from work early to find you in the kitchen, shamefully eating anything sweet in sight.

"i was hungry," you shrugged, your cheeks burning in embrassment. he wasn't due home for another hour or two.

"well, you should have called me," he said sternly, placing his hand on the small of your back and ushering you to the bedroom which had you groaning and rolling your eyes.

everytime you tried to sneak some work in, finding this whole rest and relaxing thing extremely boring, he would shut it down immediately. "you're supposed to be relaxing, not stressing about work," he would remind you firmly, closing your laptop and taking it away from you.

"god, you are a nightmare," you groaned. you knew he was trying to be helpful, and you appreciated it, you really did, but if he did that one more time, you were going to deck him in the throat.

"uh huh," he rolled his eyes. he knew best, and he knew you well enough to know that you were just being stubborn. "just lay down and try to relax, would ya?"

he did see how much being away from work was affecting you, so he started to tell you about his cases while he rubbed your feet or caressed your hair. he knew you missed the courtroom and late nights putting together cases, and it killed him that he couldn't switch places with you.

when the baby finally came, he took time off work to be there for you and your little bundle of joy. he wanted you to rest as much as possible so you could heal quickly.

he took a temporary leave, being a stay at home dad for the first couple months to a year. he loved being a dad, and he loved seeing the life return to you as you got back to work, your whole demeanor brightening.

when he was ready to go back to work, he took it slowly, not wanting to jump right back into the draining cases and the demanding hours. he dropped the baby off at his parent's during the day—they were over the moon to be taking care of their precious grand baby—and he would pick the baby up when he was done working.

he assured you that you two would make it work when you'd first gotten pregnant, and he made good on that promise. he didn't want you to give up on your dream. you were an incredible mom and a kick ass lawyer, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[vaehbae]

Peace. Quiet. Calm.

Ezra Bridger could only have dreamed of such things during his time as both an orphan, and during his time in the Rebellion. He may have experienced some of it while isolated on Peridea, but this was something he preferred more.

The view of Lothal's capital city was something that literally came from a dream. He remembered first seeing it vividly alongside the spirits of his late parents during the night he learned of their deaths. However, the dream became a reality.

The galaxy was indeed shaken following Thrawn's return, but over the past few months, the tactical genius was no match for the stubborn will of New Republic military officials, and the famous Heroes of Endor, whom with joined hands of the Heroes of Lothal, turned the tables and put Imperial Remnants to route once again.

Regardless if there was nothing safe or sacred, it was a much deserved moment of relief Ezra wished he had earned earlier. For all the strife, fighting, and death that had to resume over the desire of totalitarian madmen who wanted to reclaim control over the galaxy and restart their ideas of suffering, the best thing he could do was live for all the good people that were lost. And for a very important reason...

He had been entranced by the shining and bustling beauty of the previously envisioned city when Sabine Wren -- his wife joined his side on the balcony. In her arms, the artistically destructive Mandalorian held a still bundle in her arms. Their ninetine month old daughter, Mira Wren-Bridger.

"Everytime I see you come out here, it's like you're always distracted by something that isn't even calling your name." She quipped. Sabine sure knew how to deliver sassy remarks, even after her life changed through marriage and motherhood.

"It's a good sight to go to sleep to." Ezra replied innocently, giving off a small chuckle when he felt his longtime best friend elbow him on the side.

"Well, I don't blame ya. I remember you mentioned seeing this after realizing what happened to your parents."

In the past, Ezra would have felt a tang of pain hit his heart about such a cruel and unfair reminder, no matter the wording, but he knew he was no longer the only one to have lost family after Sabine vented to him about her Clan getting slaughtered on Mandalore.

"It's not just that anymore."

Sabine looked over at him with a questioning gaze at his comment, making sure she still maintained a fair grip on little Mira in her arms, and so that the baby would not be awaken and make a fuss.

"We've made it happen, Sabine. All of us. I know deep down, my mom and dad would've been proud to see this. Right now, however, I just don't think I could ever thank you guys enough for helping to achieve this."

"As a Mandalorian, I don't take even the smallest of promises lightly. And as much as it's exhausting to bring up... you were counting on me at the same time."

That phrase had become very synonymous with Ezra's faith in his longtime best friend, and he already knew that when she brought him home, her promise had been fulfilled. There was truly no better person than Sabine that he could ask to ensure such things were sought through to the end, and he would never have it any other way.

"And you've kept your promise, Sabine. Thank you." He told her, turning his head to meet her gaze as his lips curled up to a warm smile. That smile was shared as they kissed briefly, before finally retiring inside their tower for a good night's rest.

Ezra was still unsure what new challenges awaited him for the future, but with Sabine by his side, he felt more at ease and ready to face them head on.

It felt like I just had ASMR cleanse over my brain cells reading this. It was so nice and welcoming oh my goodness. All the stress of the final episode just washed over me with this beauty!

Thank you for submitting! Genuine, It's the perfect amount of everything but not too overwhelming and so freaking cute!

[izzy-b-hands]

Cute/emotional little Roach centric fic. Went sort of flowery prose in bits, forgive it if u can, if not I absolutely get it and valid lmaooo

TW for brief descriptions of medical care/treatments & allusion to abortifacients (no actual abortion or miscarriage occurs in the fic, this is just a general allusion as it being noted as part of his medical knowledge.)

---

"I know," Roach sighs. "I'm sorry!"

The little girl wriggles on her mother's lap, but lets him finish her stitches.

"Thank you," the woman sighs and hands him a few coins. "I don't quite have-"

"This is more than enough," he cuts her off gently. "Make sure she keeps that clean. If anything starts to look infected, she'll need the next doctor that comes through."

She nods and waves as she and the girl leave the small empty shack he's commandeered for the duration of their stay at the port.

He told the captains that he simply prefers to find his own accommodations, but truthfully, it's because he doesn't need the crew knowing about and hanging around all this.

Part of why people come to him, after all, a transient pirate doctor/cook, is for the discretion and quiet.

He's helped out girls and women needing certain teas, with ingredients his mother taught him about.

There are babies growing up that he delivered, then for a fee took and found a home (sometimes as easy as reaching out to the local church or orphanage, other times begging a better off family or a pirate captain in want of an heir but lacking a family to consider a new baby.)

Broken arms he's set while ignoring blackened eyes and listening to insistent protests of a bad fall. He always mentions how easy it is to simply disappear on a ship, should one need to escape from anywhere for any reason.

And worse. So much worse, often begged to be kept secret, but they simply had to tell someone who might help.

And a doctor always tries to help. A decent one, at least. He may not be quite decent yet, but he figures he's close enough.

"Please," the man comes skidding around the corner, wailing bundle in his arms. "I need five minutes. Just two, even."

"Hey," Roach says softly. "What's up?"

"She left me with him," the man holds out the bundle. "He won't stop crying. I can't take it."

Roach silently takes the baby, and points the man across the way towards a cheap inn. The coins the girl's mother gave him will be enough for that, and the man can sleep for the first time in days.

"You're giving your dad a lot of trouble," Roach says over the baby's cries. "And all of what, a few days old?"

He's joking, but he feels bad when the baby wails louder.

To make up for it, he doesn't set the baby down in the bassinet in the shack (one bassinet and one small cot, in case anyone needs to be monitored overnight or longer), even after the baby sleeps.

Instead he walks the small square of the shack and rocks on his feet and drowsily mumbles shanties and lullabies until the two blur into an odd mix of fish in cradles knocked out of tree boughs by sailors.

Four hours later, the man returns with an older woman. Grandma, who upon hearing the situation has agreed to come and stay with them.

Roach hands over the baby with a bittersweet ache. Memories of younger siblings held and the idea of a family of his own (incredibly unlikely considering his career) and the physical ache of his arms from cradling the baby for so long.

"Here you are."

He peers out as his latest patient is carried off, and there stands Ed.

Pipe in hand, smoke lazily drifting through the candlelight shattering the dark. He looks imposing, every bit the fearsome Blackbeard of legend.

He also looks incredibly, almost upsettingly attractive, but Roach is fairly sure Ed just has that effect on most if not all people.

"Can I help with something?" Roach asks.

"Everyone else is waiting for you to come out with us," Ed replies. "But no one knew where you went. When I volunteered to find you, I didn't know what I'd expect to find you doing-"

Roach braces for a lecture about being a pirate, or something to that effect. It won't stop him doing this, and he'd be disappointed in Ed, but this wouldn't be the first captain to disapprove of what he did, of the time and loyalty they always claimed he took away from them with such work.

"But this is awesome! I could hear that kid clear across the way earlier, but look at you!" Ed smiles. "How'd you quiet them down so fast?"

"Practice," Roach shrugs. "Siblings, then patients."

Ed's eyes grow wide. "Midwifery?"

Roach nods. "Sort of. As needed, thankfully not too often."

"You've got stories," Ed beams. "You've gotta come tell us-"

He pauses. "You're open all night to help people, aren't you?"

Roach nods. "But I can-"

"No, hang on!" Ed says. "I'll go get everyone, and we'll have things here. We can help you with anyone who comes by! We've got food and drink we can carry over, and I want to hear stories while we eat! Gorier the better!"

Ed claps a hand on his shoulder before jogging off to wherever he left the crew, leaving Roach stunned.

Stunned, but incredibly happy. Not just for the company, but for the extra hands. With them, he might even get to sleep for an hour.

[uncommondumbats]

Transcript

Murch: Listen up. We have a problem.

Coyote: Uh, who's that?

Murch: I'll get to that.

A.I.L.A.: What did you do this time, merchant?

Murch: Last night I sent 3 survivors on a supply run. I was monitoring them the whole time just in case our new "friends" decided to pay them a visit. Something attacked them and by the time I got there to help, it was too late.

Coyote: Sounds like a typical evening here.

Murch: No, Coyote this is different. I had positioned outside the deep night's range, and the aftermath there were none of the usual signs left behind. Before they died, one of the survivors took this picture. This isn't deep night. This is-

Val: -a Yeti.

Coyote: Ok what. Seriously who is she?

Murch: This is Val. She is part of my old crew back in my home timeline. You can trust her. I brought her here to help because she's an expert hunter. The best one I know. We need to take this thing out before it finds our camp.

Val: It is a pleasure to join you all. I wish it were under better circumstances. I have hunted many creatures in my time, but the yeti are illusive, and we should not take this threat lightly. We have to thread very carefully.

Coyote: Great, this situation just keeps getting weirder.

Murch: Val is going to track the yeti and prepare our survivors to take it down.

Val: I crafted a bow that should aid the survivors in our hunt. It won't deliver a killing blow, but it will slow it down enough to create a window of opportunity.

You then receive the Longbow gear and the Broadhead Arrows bundle.

Murch: A.I.L.A., it's time to field-test that new project you have been working on.

A.I.L.A: Excellent.

A.I.L.A.'s deconstructer charges up.

Murch: Yetis exist where Val and I come from but I didn't think there were any in this timeline. I'm curious to see what we'll find out. Let's get to it.

Commander: I don't appreciate your rag-tag team meddling with my operation.

Murch: Meddling? If you and your men had done your job, we wouldn't even had to intervene!

Commander: Well that "intervening" has created a problem. You didn't bother to clean up the body, did you? Do you have any idea what else was down there.

Coyote: Uh, Murch? What's he talking about?

Commander: My team was never there for the yeti. We were there to contain an infectious anomaly. The yeti, was unexpected. You left the body behind. You gave it exactly what it needed. You gave it a host. Now it's attacked our main outpost, infected countless men. It's spreading.

A.I.L.A.: This is not first time the merchant has made a critical error.

Murch: What do you need us to do?

Commander: I need you to clean up your mess. Unfortunately, most of my team has been wiped out in the attacks and we're short on men. You need to contain this, now.

Murch: We'll handle it. A.I.L.A., Coyote, let's get a sample of the substance, see if we can jerry-rig a technical solution together. Val, you mind sticking around a little longer?

Val: Whatever you need, Murch.

You then receive the Longbow gear and the Broadhead Arrows bundle.

Murch: Commander... sorry about your men.

Commander: Then let's consider it even.

Transcript

[The Survivors return to the cabin via car with groceries]

Coyote: Oh, you're back? Did you get my slushie-

Murch: Ehem, welcome back. We just finished cleaning up down here, and got most of the debris blocking the lab's sub-level cleared out. Come on down.

[The Survivors take the groceries out of the car and enter the cabin, they put the groceries inside the fridge and then head to the basement lab to meet with the crew]

[Dialogue with Murch and Coyote before you trigger the first cutscene]

Murch: Could you even make it out? I had almost no time to grab anything before I left.

Coyote: I should myself, was stuck in there for like decades. This landscape full of nothing. Time felt like it was out of stance to me, just kept going until I found these exits, holes, things that led to places. Timelines, probably. Eventually found one that led here.

[The first cutscene starts to play]

Coyote: Anyways... There you are! ...Wait, no slushie?

Murch: Down to business, Coyote. Not the time for joking around.

Murch: As I'm sure you're all aware, last night the survivors ran into something unexpected. That monster from the attack of the cabin. The one that "killed" the slasher...

Murch: This one is real, it's not a manifestation like we're used to seeing. We already lost someone, and had serveral others injured.

Coyote: It seems like the Deep Night's starting to catch on to our plan.

Murch: We need to be much more careful going forward, and we need more info.

Murch: A.I.L.A., you've been sorting through the records and databases on these terminals, correct?

A.I.L.A.: Affirmative.

Murch: Do you have anything?

[A.I.L.A. displays the "Project Nocturne" hologram]

A.I.L.A.: I have found several references to a project called "Nocturne", records indicate they were attempting to fuse Deep Night matter into living organisms.

A.I.L.A.: ...The project was shuttered, after control over specimens had failed.

A.I.L.A.: ...Project was overse N B Y -_#"<^-_#"- Doctor Malcolm Orvhill.

Coyote: Wait wait wait. The owner of the cabin? Orvhill Energies? Didn't you guys tell me the guy died a few years ago?

A.I.L.A.: Accessing H.U.N.T. files on Doctor Malcolm Orvhill...

[A.I.L.A. accesses the H.U.N.T. Files and displays Dr. Malcolm Orvhill's data file hologram]

A.I.L.A.: Name: Malcolm Orvhill/ Occupation: Former Orvhill Enegeries CEO / Age: 84 / Status: Deceased / Cause of death: Natural causes

Coyote: This dude was tied up in some serious business. If that monster has been down here this long , how did it even escape? DId someone let it out?

Coyote: ...Are we sure that Orvhill is dead?

Murch: He's dead. If H.U.N.T. has files on this guy, then he's got to be.

Coyote: ...Hmm.

Murch: Regardless, looks like we have even more of a reason to check out the sub-level of the lab. We need to see if there is any information about this "Nocturne" project somewhere down there.

Murch: Maybe we'll find a weakness, and be able to put that monster down for good. Head on down, we'll wrap up here and be right behind you.

[The survivors head down to the lab stairwell and finds the first old computer (if interacted some dialogue will play), they head left and find a security center]

[The survivors enter the security center and pulls a power lever. The power lever activates the security cameras of the cabin and allows the survivors to open the blast door]

[The survivors interact with the blast doors but it doesn't open, it instead deactivates]

Murch: What was that? Survivors, did you touch something?

[The survivors triggers an alarm]

[Laboratory Security Intercom message starts playing in a distorted voice]

Lab Security Intercom: Se-urity al-rt. Warn-ng. Unat-orized person-el have entered th -ab-rato-y. Lock-own in-ti-ed.

Murch: Ahh, thats annoying. A.I.L.A., can you shut this thing up and remove the lockdown?

A.I.L.A.: Already in progress. [Hacking sounds]

Murch: Just hang tight, we'll have you out in a second.

[After a short amount of time, a loud roaring sound is heard and "Nocturne" starts breaking down the door]

Murch: What?! The monster! A.I.L.A., where are we at?! Can you get this open?!

A.I.L.A.: Negative. "Nocturne" will breach the room before i can override the lab security protocols.

Murch: Aagh! Put up a barrier at the lab entrance!

["Nocturne" starts breaking down the blast door with the 20-second death timer appearing on the survivor's screen]

Murch: Sorry survivors, but you got to find a way out of that room, and fast! In the meantime we'll work on finding you an alternative exit! Now go!

[The survivors enter a ventilation shaft to escape "Nocturne". During the vent sequence, "Nocturne" walks pass a vent and checks the vent before immediately running away]

[The survivors head towards the end of the vent which leads to a large office with the second old computer]

Coyote: Have you found them an exit yet, A.I.L.A.?

A.I.L.A.: Yes, forwarding location.

Murch: Alright you got that, survivors? We're on our way, and will meet up with you at the coordinates.

Murch: If you can swipe any info on your way without becoming monster chow, at least this situation won't be a complete loss. Stay safe.

[The survivors approach a second vent to reach sublevel exit to regroup with the gang while suddenly a barrier automatically shuts down the door next to the vent, which makes an alarm sound]

[The survivors enter the vent which they are now at the other side of the previous blast door with more alarms blaring, they then approach another vent to bypass a locked blast door]

[The survivors are now at the other side of the blast door which leads to a extremely large room with a Deep Night reactor core in the middle of the room, they then approach a cargo elevator to go to the lower floors]

[They went to the lower floors with more barriers blocking the door to reach to the exit, but suddenly "Nocturne" breaches the topper blast door and starts swinging at the ceiling to block off the survivors path, but he somehow doesn't attack]

[The survivors take an alternative route which a pair of black tentacles eat up the doors. The doors leads to a large ventilation shaft hallway with large wall fans, overgrown plants and even more dead bodies. The end of the hallway leads to a small room with multiple bunk beds, the third old computer and a vent. The survivors enter the final vent which leads to the laboratory's control centre, the final area before the survivors finally regroup with the gang]

[A cutscene plays which Murch, A.I.L.A. and Coyote are running in the halls to regroup with the survivors]

Murch: Survivors, you're still alive. Good, Let's get out of here, come on-

[A pile of goo in the middle of the room starts to emerge a large figure]

Murch: Everyone, get behind me.

[Murch takes out his revolver and nervously aim at the pile of goo]

[Unknown FIgure]: I have anticipated this moment for a very long time.

Murch: What is this?

[Unknown Figure]: Ah yes. The Great Merchant, savior to the timeline, how noble of you. To think that you can stop what is coming.

Coyote: Midnight's Shadow...

[The Unknown Figure's name is revealed to be Midnight's Shadow]

Midnight's Shadow: Thank you for fulfilling you end of the deal. I knew you were a wise one.

Murch: No... Coyote... What's going on? What did you do?

Coyote: I...I had no other choice. It either was help him, or stay stuck in there, forever. I'm sorry.

Murch: Coyote...

[Coyote takes out the Amplifier and hands it to Midnight's Shadow]

Midnight's Shadow: So cold of you to lie to your friends. Don't worry about it, I'm sure they will understand. After all, Murch is no stranger to manipulating those that trust him most. You told me to see purpose. And i have certainly found it.

Murch: Oh my god... Aiden? What happened to you?

Midnight's Shadow: I have become an emissary! You pushed me down this path, for that, I will grant you one mercy. Consider this the only opportunity to get ahead.

Midnight's Shadow: Embrace the cover of midnight now, for you cannot run from it much longer.

["Nocturne" teleports behind Midnight's Shadow and the door behind the gang closes]

Murch: A.I.L.A., find us an exit, now.

A.I.L.A.: In progress.

[A.I.L.A. uses her panel to find the nearest exit]

Midnight's Shadow: Pity, I had a feeling we would not see eye-to-eye on this. Do not worry about fleeing to the cabin. Consider this an eviction notice.

[Rubble starts falling off of the the ceiling]

Murch: I'm gonna kill you!

[Murch shoots Midnight's Shadow with his revolver four times]

Midnight's Shadow: [Laughs] Sorry to dissapoint you. I have to admit, I didn't expect you to find three of the amplifiers so fast, very good planning on your part. Orvhill hid them well, the things we can accomplish with this...

Coyote: I don't think so.

Midnight's Shadow: ...What?

Coyote: Well it all went according to plan right? I brought them hereand you got an "Amplifier"; just like you asked. We're done here.

[The amplifier on Midnight's Shadow's hands start to make an alarm sound which its pitch rapidly increases, seconds before exploding]

A.I.L.A.: Exit located.

Murch: Run!

[The crew runs to the exit and the amplifier explodes on Midnight's Shadow's hand]

[The gang escapes via a long catwalk which leads to a cargo elevator with a 30-second death timer initiated]

Midnight's Shadow: This is the beginning of the end! You have no idea how hopeless you are to stop us! Keep running! I WILL END YOU!

Murch: Go! Get to that cargo elevator!

[The crew successfully escape via a cargo elevator which leads to the outside, but the cabin they stay in had burned down, killing all the avatars inside the cabin]

[A.I.L.A. calls in a Tech V-tol to pick them up]

Murch: ...We need to leave

[The Tech V-tol arrives]

[The crew enter the Tech V-tol, only the avatars Chad, Hazmat and Hunter survived from the cabin fire]

Coyote: Listen, Murch. I'm sorry. I had no other-

Murch: I'll deal with you later!

[A.I.L.A's Tech V-tol warning goes off]

A.I.L.A.: Warning, incoming attack. Hang on.

[A.I.L.A.'s Tech Vtol gets shot down by an unknown object]

Murch: Everyone, brace for impact!

-The Story Mission Ends-

Old Computers Transcript

3 Old Computers can be interacted inside the mission which will have dialogue relating to Malcolm Orvhill's plans, the voice recordings are not Orvhill's voice but rather an unknown scientist working for Orvhill Energies. (Since there are no subtitles for old computer dialogue, some of the dialogue might be incorrect)

Old Computer 1 dialogue

[Cassette Tape activates, which makes a loud activation sound. The screen of the computer turns purple]

[Cassette Tape starts playing, making a short beep]

Unknown Orvhill Energies Lab Scientist: [Sigh] May 13 was another failure. Nothing seems to survive beyond the first few days. Orvhill suggesting try something larger and uh.. more resilient to the source. Even sent us a few new genome examples. A uh... Dire Wolf, two subspecies of leopard and uh [scoffs] an actual komodo dragon, if you could believe that. [ugh] At least it's better than rats, I guess.

-Old Computer 1 dialogue ends-

Old Computer 2 dialogue

[Cassette Tape activates, which makes a loud activation sound. The screen of the computer turns purple]

[Cassette Tape starts playing, making a short beep]

Unknown Orvhill Energies Lab Scientist: [phew] We finally have it. One of the subjects to survive the procedure. The changes for its physical structure were uh.... a mix to say the least. It's several times larger than we previously predicted and somewhat bipedal as well. But [ugh] just as expected though, there's no change in the subject's cognizant behaviour. Uhh... For a lack of a better phrase, it's as dumb as bricks. Still runs on animalistic instinct and adrenaline. We can't control it, yet. Surely there has to be a way, right?

-Old Computer 2 dialogue ends-

Old Computer 3 dialogue

[Cassette Tape activates, which makes a loud activation sound. The screen of the computer turns purple]

[Cassette Tape starts playing, making a short beep]

Unknown Orvhill Energies Lab Scientist: Human trials? What a bunch of corporate hacks. When you register human trials, we haven't even begun to understand the substance we're dealing with. Even if we did, even if we had enough subjects willing to volunteer, fatality rates are over 96 percent. No, no. We have to do better, or this won't end well....

-Old Computer 3 dialogue ends-

sigh

[shes-so-insane]

Fyodor’s Tool (PT 3)

HELP. Sorry for never following up on the stories. I’ll be pumping out a bunch of these.  Warnings: Angst, blood, violence. 

____________________________________________________

It was still early morning, no later than 3am. The sun was still hidden away as Fyodor led you to the entrance of the base. 

“Where are we going?”

He picks up a black bag with slender fingers, then looks to you. 

“Out, my dear. Do you prefer Cabernet or Pinot?” 

His question confused you. Was he taking you out on a date? Who drinks at 3 in the morning? “I’m not a heavy drinker... but I do prefer red.”

“Excellent. Now, follow me.”

Each minute you spend with this man is another minute you melt into the palm of his hands. His charms were undoubtedly taking grasp of you. You were aware of this, yet you still followed him like a puppy. ________________________________________________

After driving with him in a town car, the driver unknown as it was still dark, you arrive in an empty train station. Nothing but him and the heavy fog surrounded you. There was nothing stopping you from running. Though you were starting to enjoy his company, Fyodor terrified you. You had no idea what he was capable of. So you stood aside and watched. He pulls two mechanisms out of his bag. One appeared to be a small security camera.  “Y/N.” He caught you staring, and his call startled you.

“Come here.” 

You walk towards him, and crouch down as he was. He stares in your eyes. “I’m curious for your answer. If you were delivering a package, a very, very important package, what side of your body would you hold closest?”

It took you a second to think.

“For me, I would carry it in a bag like any normal item. Nothing can happen to something special if you don’t make it special. However, I think most would hold it to their chest. It provides the best sight radius, however isn’t very discreet.” “Good.” His smirk doesn’t falter. “Always know yourself, and your enemy.”

You watch as pulls a brick from the station ground, and replaces it with the mechanism he had pulled out of his bag, wires protruding from the bottom. It matched perfectly with the ground around it. He then sets up the camera in a bush, and lays down what seems to be a sensor.

“Right or wrong, it's very pleasant to break something from time to time.” He stares at you, and smiles. You say nothing in return, just a soft smile as you study him.

“Come.”

The town car that had been waiting no longer had a driver. Fyodor opens the door to the back passenger side. He gets in the drivers seat. He has so much trust in you, you could easily take control of the car in this situation, yet you sit back and let him drive to your next destination.  “You are a curious man, Fyodor.” you bluntly said.

You catch his eyes in the rearview mirror. “And you are a complex woman, one that I need. A perfect match.”

_________________________

The car rolls to a stop. It is still dark, with the sun just peeking over the trees. Through the window tints you see a very minimalistic, but modern house. Surrounding it was a forest of evergreens, a very beautiful sight in the fog. The opening of the door catches you off guard while Fyodor takes your hand to lead you to the door of the house.

Before opening the door, he stops. 

“Please, make yourself at home. But be sensitive to the items you wish to explore.”

Leading you into his home, you’re hit with the earthy smells of books and wood. He gestures for you to sit on the purple silk chair as he leaves to another room.

Your eyes glazed the room. Bookshelves of various books on philosophy, music, even geography. A violin sits on a stand near the corner, his black coat draped over the chair next to it. A stack of cards lays on the table in front of you.  He comes back to you shortly, with a bundle of black cloth. He hands it to you. “Please, put this on and clean yourself up. I’ll be here.”

[mmriesoftvat]

The timing is always rotten, always inopportune, always against him. "It's nothing more than a flair up," he'd reassured Herbalist Gui, waving the man off and promising he would rest after these last two deliveries. They'd been feverishly working the entirety of the day getting these medications together for their cherished patients, and poor Gui had not been able to be in the company of his family since the night prior.

It would be fine, then, if Dr. Baizhu sent him home so he could do just that, whilst the pharmacist took on the highly important task of delivering the fruits of their labor. With beautifully wrapped bundles of medicines and herbs in his arms, he'd begun the journey with high hopes that he could make it there and back with no issues... until that familiar, yet incessant sharp pain became more a hindrance than something he could simply brush off and soldier through.

Fingers grip at the spot over his chest, legs slowing to a halt on the incline of stairs he'd climbed many a time in the past. The thought of calling for help sounded more mortifying than collapsing at the top of these stairs--- at least if he did, he needn't explain WHY he looked pale as a ghost, with a terrible tremble to every move he made. There were very, very few who knew of his condition, and none of them were in range to call upon; he loathed the idea of ADDING to that number, but archons above, he needed to get this medicine to the ill and needy.

... no, mayhap... he could call upon one of them... as embarrassing as it would be to do so for such a task as small as this.

"A-Adeptus Xiao?" He's dealt with the Yaksha here and there. Not to an extent that he would claim he's as close to Xiao as he is to Zhongli, but in the rare instances they must rely on each other, everything remains cordial and confidential. It's the only reason he rasps out the older being's name, praying it wouldn't be met with crushing silence, or rejection. "I am not sure if... you can even hear me, but I've desperate need of... of you. Please. I can... repay you in anyway you see fit. The task itself is mundane, but I beg you to help, if not for me, then for my patients here in Liyue who... need this medicine." // offers Xiao a Baizhu

There are very few people who have the privilege of calling his name, and even fewer still who use said privilege. Xiao has grown used to the silence, finding a strange sad sort of comfort in the loneliness. Even Rex Lapis doesn't call on him as much as he used to. In these times, humans really do rely on themselves, rather than the adepti.

Not that it's a bad thing. Xiao is quite pleased to see that they can manage themselves. He's happy to take a break whenever he can. The problem is, there's almost too much free time nowadays. Xiao hates sitting idle, it allows his thoughts to turn dark, and the pain to almost consume him.

Hearing the call now has him snapping to attention. Gaze snapping up in the direction of Liyue harbor, he sets aside the salad Verr Goldet had prepared for him. Xiao isn't hungry to begin with, but now he can trust her to set this aside for later. Just his luck too, she's coming into the room to take the plate.

"I must go," Xiao says to her curtly. Her expression is one of understanding as he fades away from view, traveling away from the Inn and toward the Harbor, seeking the one who'd called for him.

Reappearing, Xiao locks his gaze on the person before him, narrowing his eyes. Not in distaste, and certainly not with any malice. It's a genuine surprise -- Baizhu had never seemed the sort before to need aid. Xiao had never expected the doctor to be the one to call for him, the man always seems so in control of his surroundings, walking with a confident gait.

Of course Baizhu has the privilege though. The man had helped Xiao out a handful of times; Xiao sees no reason not to return the favor.

"I'm here." His voice is less curt than with Verr Goldet, and he takes a step closer. Concern crosses his features as he leans closer to inspect Baizhu. The doctor looks terrible right now, enough so that Xiao is more concerned than perhaps he should be. It'd be too easy to chalk this up to a brief spell, but Xiao isn't great with illness and treating it in general. Admittedly, he's left flustered right now. Who treats a doctor of his ailments? It doesn't take more than a second look for him to realize that Baizhu probably needs assistance walking, so he doesn't need to ask what needs to be done. Xiao's pulling Baizhu back to his feet and pulling one of the doctor's arms around his shoulder. It doesn't matter if Baizhu is taller than him -- Xiao is wrapping an arm around his waist regardless.

"Lean on me," Xiao says, tightening his grip for support. "I'll help you back up the stairs." Xiao isn't skilled in any sort of medicine other than what Baizhu himself gives him, so he doesn't know what the doctor needs to take. Perhaps Qiqi knows.

It's a slow process, but there's no rush, if Baizhu needs it. "Do you wish me to stay and continue to help?" It would be a relief from the crushing loneliness he's too used to. Baizhu isn't terrible company, and his room is never a bad place to spend time, either. Would it hurt for the adeptus to keep vigil while Baizhu rests? It would also prevent Xiao from having to constantly travel back and forth as well. As long as there aren't a steady stream of people coming in and out of the doctor's room, Xiao can stay overnight if needed.

After all, Baizhu and even Qiqi had done it for him.

[binxiboo]

Dinner and Evil Egg Timers

Stranger Things Masterlist // Full Masterlist

Robin Buckley x Reader

The idea had been discussed multiple times, but the opportunity had never arisen, until now. You’re on your way to Family Video to drop Robin off at work before commandeering her house keys to let yourself in and cook her dinner. You’d wanted to cook for your girlfriend for a while now, the time it’s taken you to get to this point, while being incredibly frustrating, had blessed you with the ability to select the best recipe.

After walking Robin through the door, saying a quick hello and goodbye to Steve Harrington behind the counter, and being handed a set of house keys, you headed for the grocery store. You’d decided on Spaghetti Carbonara; you’d seen the recipe while flicking through recipe books you’d found in storage at home. A practice round had taken place prior to you attempting it for Robin – you weren’t going to take a chance on pulling it off first time in front of her – which had turned out surprisingly edible. So, you went around the store gathering cheese, cream, spaghetti, eggs, butter and garlic. A stop in the bakery section also had you leaving with a blueberry pie, and a quick run to get ice cream after you’d barely remembered before checking out. Armed with several shopping bags, you began you walk to Robin’s house.

There was a fight with Robin’s front door before you decided it was better to rest the bags on the floor rather than hitting them into the door with every attempt at getting the key into the lock. Once the door was successfully unlocked and opened, you shuffled the shopping through the threshold, closing the door behind you, and wandered your way through to the small kitchen past the lounge. You would have a few hours before Robin got home so you took time to prep the space so that you could flow through the recipe fluidly. There was a small radio on the counter that you switched on for some background noise, tuning it up to a station you deemed acceptable.

With an appropriate soundtrack to fill the silence, you began to prepare your ingredients. The cheese gets grated; the cream measured out; the correct number of eggs set safely back on the counter, ready to beat; two cloves of garlic separated from the rest of the bulb; and the butter measured out for frying. A scavenger hunt through the cupboards delivers to you a bundle of well used pots and pans which you stay crouched deciding over for a few seconds, not entirely sure which sizes would be best. After making a careful selection you return to your normal height, checking the recipe you’d brought with you for the first step.

Eventually, after a fight with an egg timer that you eventually gave up on, settling for counting on a clock instead, you were seconds away from plating up. While the spaghetti cooked through, you’d sat yourself up on the counter, close enough to stir it around every now and then, with your current read in hand. At the exact moment Robin walked into the kitchen from her front door, the egg timer decided that, in fact, it had been set earlier, and sent you flying off the counter and on to the kitchen tiles.

“Oh my God! Are you okay?”

You look up at the girl who’s now frantically pulling you up off the floor, eyes following her head as she moves around you. You’re not convinced your soul is in your body anymore with the shock you’re struggling to move on from. Finally, you do though, as you slowly respond to Robin’s questioning of whether you’re okay, or hurt, or can walk, your answers coming faster with each question. In the middle of her interrogation, and once she was satisfied you could stand on your own, she had scrambled to find the timer to silence it.

“I wasn’t convinced I could get it to work, so I gave up with it earlier. Turns out it must work.” You explain while moving to check the food hadn’t burned on the stove.

“Why did you need an egg timer for spaghetti?” Robin asked after nosing at what you’d cooked.

“I didn’t trust myself to be able to count five minutes without forgetting.”

Robin chuckles to herself, a small smile on her lips at your reasoning, and starts setting the table while you finish assembling the meal. Once the plates look presentable you carry them over to the table, Robin waiting patiently while watching you all the way.

“You better not be hoping I trip, Robin.”

“I think you’ve suffered enough tonight, Honey.”

You meet her comment with a glare as you place her plate in front of her then settle yourself in the space she’s designated for you.

“This looks really good.”

“I hope it tastes as it looks then.”

You both take a bite at the same time, twirling spaghetti around your forks and waiting for it to stop swinging before placing it into your mouths. You release a sound of relief as Robin practically moans with delight.

“I guess it does then.” You conclude after swallowing, a laugh escapes you as Robin enthusiastically nods.

It takes you a little longer to finish eating than it does Robin, so she fills the silence with a story from her day. A story of a certain Henderson being sent in, his friends acting like they’re invisible behind the glass store front of the video store, to try and persuade Steve to check them out a film rated for a far older audience than them. Robin recounted how Steve whisked her into the back room before anyone could ask her. The story finished up at the same time your fork dropped onto your plate, Robin’s rambling making the retelling fill out the time perfectly.

You both sat talking for a while to let the food settle before each standing up with your own plates to take them to the sink. Robin led your two-person line, placing her plate in the sink first. You were halfway between the table and the sink when the egg timer decided to go off again, sending your fork from your plate and into the spot you landed in earlier in the night.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I thought I’d turned it off!” Robin lunged for it, turning it off once again. She takes your plate off you, bending down to collect the fork, and places the timer in your hand for a double check that it is off this time.

“These things could have a slightly less invasive sound.”

“You know, given when they were invented, surely someone would’ve deemed these dangerous to women.”

You look back up to her after looking at the timer, an inquisitive look on your face encouraging her to expand.

“Well, women were supposedly fragile and would faint at anything and everything, right?”

“Ah, I see. Fair point, Robin, fair point.”

You set the now-definitely-turned-off egg timer onto the kitchen counter, scrunching your face at it as a threat to not go off again, and turned to the freezer to get out the ice cream you’d bought earlier at the store.

“Ice cream for dessert?” Robin asks. You don’t respond, simply pulling the blueberry pie out of the fridge and angling it for her to see. She looks up at your face, showing her elation with a massive grin on her face.

“Your favourite.”­­

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

It’s been a fun week at work. I’ve been fixing bugs here and there. For some reason I enjoy this type of work. I spent a decent amount of time looking at memory graphs for object retentions problems and fixed a couple of good ones this week. That always feels great!

As for Stream for Mac, I started off the week in a bit of a funk but thanks to some amazing Mac devs I was put back on the right path. Stream for Mac development is moving forward once again. Fingers crossed I can keep up the momentum. 🤞🏼

Nikita Prokopov A.K.A. Tonsky

So all this time I was living under impression that, for example, if the average web page size is 3 MB, then JavaScript bundle should be around 1 MB. Surely content should still take the majority, no?

Some of the examples Nikita gives seem ridiculous. It makes me wonder if backend processing that spits out pure HTML will ever become a thing again?

Harry Cheadle • Eater, Seattle

But Tony Delivers doesn’t need to be anything bigger than it already is, which is one guy on a bike showing up to deliver food, probably smiling, probably asking how you’re doing, a bolt of disarming kindness in a city that even before we all got addicted to screens was known for being standoffish. That seems worth $5.

Tony has become a Seattle hero! I can’t believe he’s able to survive on $5 deliveries but bravo for making your own little niche!

Nish Tahir

I’ve been learning more about common attacks that appear in my Nginx logs to learn more about what happens beyond the log entries.

Nish is geekin’ out again. I wish I had his brain. The things I could accomplish! 🧠

Gunnar Anzinger

Also, do not worry at this time about acquiring the resources to build the house itself. Your first priority is to develop detailed plans and specifications. Once I approve these plans, however, I would expect the house to be under roof within 48 hours.

This piece is ridiculous in all the best ways. The paragraph I chose to feature really hit home. Yes, yes, take your time. We need it in two days. 🤣

Claire Elise Thompson • grist

If you like the idea of a perpetual three-day weekend, you might be one of a growing cadre that supports the concept of degrowth: a school of thought aimed at shrinking economies and moving away from GDP growth as a metric of success, while instead emphasizing universal basic services and social well-being.

With the rise of AI companies believe they can replace us with software for many types of work.

I think that’s cool! Let’s replace workers and figure out a way to allow folks to do whatever they want and still receive a paycheck. Like, perhaps, Universal Basic Income, Single Payer health care, and free university for everyone! Of course the rich people won’t like that idea.

Trust me when I say I could find plenty of things to work on.

Michael Szczepanik

It’s time for the NATIVE mobile development to end.

I don’t agree. I’ve been working on a project that involves React Native and I see the value in it, but that doesn’t mean native development should go away. Your mileage may vary. For me it’s native or bust for my personal projects.

Mike Elgan • Computerworld

More to the point: Most companies cannot show actual monetary benefits from RTO mandates. But most employees can show actual and significant monetary costs from RTO mandates.

This is an interesting take on the cost to employees to return to work. I’ve never thought about it in those terms. For me it’s always been about the flexibility working remotely gives me. I save between 40-60 minutes a day by not commuting, I can have afternoon coffee with my wife, and if I need to work late it’s so much easier to stomach because I’m already home.

If WillowTree asked us all to return to the office full time, I would. I just prefer working from home.

Jacob Phillips • Evening Standard

The Kremlin has said it will use its “entire strategic arsenal” and fire nuclear missiles at London, Washington, Berlin and Kyiv if it is made to give up the areas of Ukraine it has invaded.

We need to get our act together and get more aid to Ukraine. The GOP loves their orange American Dictator who, in turn, loves Putin so they’re keeping aid from Ukraine. What happened to all those Patriotic Republicans with their flags and love of all things military? They’re too cowardly to stand up to Trump. It’s really shameful.

Chris Evangelista • /Film

Stephen King Hates The Only Movie He Ever Directed

I liked Maximum Overdrive for what it was. It’s a popcorn movie. Get your popcorn, soda, find your seat, and sit back to watch the mayhem unfold. It delivered and I had no idea Stephen King directed it.

[animasend]

it was evening, and the sun was gone— any rays of light left came through the curtains and casted a curious glow, almost mischievously against the cold air. it made staying in bed all the more enticing, but for the first time in a while, he did not need sleep. maybe it was a blessing in disguise, or he simply had other plans. it was nothing grand, he could point out it was simple and fitting in his own clumsy attempt for celebration. last year he had missed it, not purposefully, but he had pondered about it. would it be a good idea to do anything? birthdays were never something he had experienced.

he had spent the day considering whether he had wanted any flowers. any of them could have been perfectly alright, and the jar had been filled with fresh water but nothing else, until he had returned with a choice. if he were honest, he did not know whether he was all that confident but the sunflowers reminded him of every time he had looked at her and thought of the sun. his own hands could still feel the earth as he moved them from their pots and carefully tied them with a ribbon.

— it was embarrassing when he recalled it. he didn’t know why and how, but perhaps the one thing that had him feel his ears flush brighter was the birthday card that he had come to deliver. it was hand-drawn, the picture of two small children wishing her a happy birthday. but that could be shown later, it was the first day of the year and the sky was full of stars. and he knew that she loved watching them, especially when he asked her things about them that made her smile. there was a big, fluffy pile of blankets ready for the beach.

he looks through the bedroom innocently, eyes peeking with pure curiosity at the familiar bundle before they turn softer. he doesn’t mention her hair being everywhere or how her eyes speak of grumpiness, he stares blankly and then, his face lights up. he doesn’t point out her sleepy face but it doesn’t stop him from laughing gently, shoulders shaking as he gets closer. he considers kissing her for a moment but his nose only touches hers tenderly. “Happy birthday. Is there anything you want to eat?”

she needed a nap. that was the first thing she told herself after getting home. a nice, long nap that just so happened to turn into a far longer than normal nap but. well, it still counts as one, so long as she wakes up before it gets too late. and she does with bleary eyes that take a few moments to get used to her surroundings. it seems that, in her peaceful rest, she made herself a cocoon of blankets, wrapping them even up and over her head as she slept. it was warm under there. the sort of warmth that begged her to never leave it and she was tempted to stay there and go right back to sleep. but the sight of dying light hitting the blankets from outside alerted her to the hour and with a groan, she moves. at first it is just her arm that sticks out from under the blankets, reaching for her phone and snatching it back under the heap like a creature returning to its cave. the screen barely wakes up before Olga shoves it against the sheets, finding the brightness of it offending. but she thought she spotted an 8. or maybe it was a 10. she can’t remember. either way, she was more awake now which meant she had to get up.

          it’s done begrudgingly slow. fingers grip the edges of the comforter before she pulls it down, the normal temperature of the bedroom quickly taking away the warmth from her cocoon. it takes another five to ten minutes for her to open her eyes with an extra five to actually sit up. scanning the room, her gaze eventually lands on the reason why she woke up. not that he had done it himself, but it was one of those unspoken things that the mage sees no reason to question. she wants to squint at him, to further emphasize the displeasure at being woken up, but then his face does that thing. that one thing that it does sometimes when he sees her and she can feel her cheeks grow warmer by the second, the laugh helping nothing except to spread warmth through her chest. 

     “ Yeah, I get it, I look funny when I wake up but I’m not the only one who has hair that goes everywhere. Yours may as well be a squid in the morning. ” it’s a gentle jab, lighthearted in nature and delivery. she loved the way he looked in the morning, the times that she woke up before him (if he slept that night, that is). just like she loved his laugh and the way he felt at ease enough around to be so unabashed in what he showed. he always said more with his eyes but she took those moments where his face followed suit to be just as precious.

     her nose scrunches up at the contact but there is a sleepy smile tugging at her lips at the closeness. out of everyone, she’s not surprised that he knew. nor is she surprised that he didn’t say anything earlier in the day though perhaps that’s for the best. if Olga had to choose how to end the day, then there would be no better alternative than with him. even if all they did was what every other night was like, it would still be perfect. discarding the rest of the blankets, arms reach up to wrap around his neck in something of a hug, face pressing against the side of his neck in contentment. a few words were whispered and her request was granted as he picked her up princess style. maybe it was a bit childish, the way she beams at him for it, but he makes her happy in ways no others can and she’s already long-since stopped thinking she didn’t deserve to feel that.

   “ Anything I want to eat?” her tone would give it away immediately with how it carries something mischevious. fingertips drum gently against his neck as she plays the part of someone deep in thought. there’s two ways to answer her and she chooses the more amusing way first, despite the innocent expression she does her best to give. “ Can I say you?” there’s no waiting to see what his expression would be for she bursts out laughting at her choice, head thrown back for a moment before she settles, offering an apology in the form of a quick kiss against his cheek.

   “  I want waffles. With fruit. And the most caffeinated drink you can find in this house. And then...” she pauses, lifting up one hand to carefully fix some of his bangs, letting her fingertips trace the curve of his cheek for a few seconds with a smile reserved only for him. " If you have anything planned, we can do that afterwards. "

[merakiui]

MERA I HAVE TO SHARE THIS BATSHIT INSANE IDEA I HAD

YANDERE KAMISATO AYATO AND EX-WIFE DARLING

The divorce is the Kamisato clan’s worst stain on their pristine reputation, even if Ayato and Wife had been in complete agreement to divorce each other. They didnt love each other, they could barely stand each other, and Ayato would rather be labelled a man with one failed marriage under his belt than a man who’s in an unhappy one. The scandal of it all eventually dies down after some years and Ayato’s consolidated his power as the Yashiro Commissioner and one of the top dogs of Inazuma, and he’s... well, satisfied seems too strong a word but he isn’t... its not like he regrets his divorce too much, ya know? Their personalities clashed, they couldnt be what the other needed or wanted, it just didnt work out. Sure it hurts when he wakes up in the morning and he goes through his daily routine in the complete silence of his solitary chambers but its not that big of a deal? He still has Ayaka. He even has Thoma! And the Kamisato servant... even if they’re forced to attend to him bc he’s their lord... ah uhm, he has Itto, sometimes, when he can make time in his schedule. And uh, Miss Ann is quite kind, she’s always willing to lend an ear to him when he dines at her shop, rare as it may be. He has... he has...

Fine, he’s lonely. It hurts to wake up to an empty and cold bed and its sad when he has to have his tea alone and its worse when the few times he can return to the house its empty aside from servants who dont dare to be too familiar with their lord, and his sister and Thoma are out doing whatever it is that they do. At least when you were there, no matter how much you two argued, you’d greet him and ask him about his day or offer him a snack. At meals you’d regale him with tales of your day or some petty ongoings in Inazuma. Light hearted things that never fail to take his mind off of his heavy burdens and he can relax as you fill the silence with chatter.

He knows he misses the good times, the memory of you, more than he actually does you, because there were just as many fights as there were good days, but for seven’s sake the loneliness can just really wear down even the most resilient of pillars.

Maybe thats why, years after the divorce he seeks you out. He doesn’t even know how he ends up in front of your humble but quaint home, but he’s quick to spin a lie when the door opens to show your unsurprised but bemused all the same face. A lie that he was just out for a walk and decided to deliver this month’s alimony to you personally. You invite him in easily enough, and Ayato marvels at the warmth your home exudes. It’s homy and lived-in, a great departure from the ornate and grand halls of the noble mansions both of you grew up in as children, and you chuckle at his amazement and remind him that your family had disowned you for the dishonor of being a divorcee and he cant help but wince. You had taken on the heavier social stigma with the divorce but you had bravely accepted it and laughed in the face of the consequences as you built up a cozy life for yourself.

He envied it, your freedom and courage to do something so... independent. He could only ever envision something like this at his lowest of low points when the burden of being the commissioner and lord kamisato overwhelmed him. He would never turn his back on his people, but it doesnt mean that he never felt tired.

It’s the warmth of the tea cup you press into his hands that shakes him out of his thoughts, and his brain hyper-focuses on the warmth of your hands enveloping his before you pull away and he almost almost chases after you.

You’re calmer now, he thinks. More mature, gentle in a way he doesn’t really remember aside from the times you’d help him into the bed after a long day of work and bundle him up in the sheets back when you were married. You wouldnt have welcomed him in and served him tea if he had visited you unannounced in the past, and you pointedly remind him you were both children then. Angry, emotional children who were caught up in political schemes they had no choice but to follow.

And yet you managed to escape. Ayato cant help but sneer in his heart, but its forced to remain an internal statement by a pointed look from someone who knows all the best and worst sides of himself. A look he knows well from years of experience and he holds his tongue as he drinks his tea. Sweet, with a mellow taste that reminds him of the strange milk teas he hears so much about being sold in the city. He should take you there, sometime, it would be nice—

Ayato stops his train of thought right there, wondering why it even came to mind. You didnt even like sweets all that much, and he knows how weird it would look to everyone to see the Lord Kamisato setting aside time in his busy schedule to get drinks with his ex-wife. Does that even make sense? The divorce happened because you two could barely stand each other, but here he is time and again seeking you for comfort.

It’s a pity that you two had been forced together so unnaturally, like roughly chopped blocks of wood, the friction between you burgeoning into a raging fire that ruined much of your early history together till it razed down the marriage alliance both families had been so hopeful for. Its ludicrous, when you think about how you two almost seamlessly work with each other now, that there had ever been a fight between you two. Even with his unannounced arrivals you let him in and let him complain or rant or stare off into space as he lets himself be Ayato and not Kamisato Ayato. And in this house (that he secretly helped you make, he wasnt a monster to just completely abandon you after the divorce), you thrive in the freedom of being the sole master of your own destiny and blossomed into someone who no longer had to bite her tongue when someone tried to talk over her, who no longer had to pretend to be diplomatic when she was enraged, like you had been when you were married to him.

Maybe if you got together now instead of then, he wouldnt have to wake up to an empty bed. Maybe if you were together now instead of then, he wouldnt have any memories of that bed containing more than just himself to begin with. Maybe if you two got to be together as Ayato and (Name) it wouldve worked out.

Maybe thats why he lets his feet take him to your house more and more as the days go by, and your continued graciousness to let him into your home and let him be Ayato contorts his mind into believing that you feel the same way. You were once his wife. You know every part of him, good and gracious and bad and terrible, and you still accept him. Its not like the mask of a kind if mischievous older brother he puts on for Ayaka, the playful but hardworking master Thoma knows him as, or the cunning and handsome lord of Kamisato he puts on for the populace.

You were his wife. Were. But whats something as flimsy as a piece of paper splattered with ink against the might of the most powerful man in Inazuma? He could just erase the records. Order the Shuumatsuban to destroy any proof of the divorce and subtly implant the idea that it was just a very, very bad lover’s spat in the mind of the populace. After all, who would dare question him about the details of his own marriage and risk the consequence of such an insult? Not even your family would dare to disagree with his version of events, they’d be delighted for any connection to him and it would salvage their honor.

After all, who would believe you were divorced when he disappeared to your home everyday? A home he helped you procure and build, a home you never rejected him from entering, a home that many people of the Kamisato clan knew of and would periodically visit, whether it be the servants who liked to chat with you, the samurai who helped ensure the safety of the house, that Ayaka and Thoma had even sat down and dined in with Ayato on your birthday? No one would believe you two were on such bad terms as to be divorced when you fit so well together now.

And anyone who dared to remind others of that... well, the Shuumatsuban were under confidentiality agreements for a reason.

:O your brain is so galaxy!!! This idea is incredible!!