#blurbles

pairing: xiao x gn!reader

cw: spoilers of the archon quest “hidden dreams in the depths,” entirely self-indulgent 🤍

the scene would be comical from an outsider’s perspective.

a human sitting alongside one of the great yaksha, dirt and bruises marring their countenances. tears run down their faces in streams as they shovel spoonfuls of a shared plate of almond tofu into their mouths. truly, comedic.

“stop crying,” xiao demands, soft.

“how can i?” you retaliate, setting your spoon down and hastily wiping your tears. “you almost… you almost…”

just the thought of losing him brings another fresh wave of tears to your eyes, and you instinctively turn away to hide them, “how dare you tell me to stop crying when you are, too.”

he can’t argue with that. xiao touches his cheek to feel the wetness there, foreign and involuntary. you had never once seen him cry despite the demons that plagued him every single day. he was always strong, always put up a protective front for you.

he would have done anything for you to get out of there alive. even at the cost of his own.

but as he looks at you now, sitting so close yet feeling so far away, he wonders if that’s what you would have even wanted in the first place. it makes him so unexplainably sad.

“i hate you,” you mutter, with no bite.

you don’t… you love him. he knows that.

xiao tentatively reaches out and grasps your shoulder. you let him slowly maneuver you so you’re facing him, and he starts to thumb at your tears.

it doesn’t help, not really. only because seeing xiao cry while doing so only makes you cry more.

“i hope you know to never make such a rash decision like that ever again,” you whisper, warbled and broken, “i don’t ever want to be in a world without you in it.”

xiao brings his forehead to meet yours, eyes closing as he basks in your warmth.

“i know,” he relents, holding your face in a gentle cradle.

heaving a sigh through your nose, you pull away from xiao and pick up the discarded plate of almond tofu. his eyes are half-lidded as you bring a spoonful to his lips. he takes it without argument, and your heart makes leaps.

you bite your lip, unable to resist the urge to lay a gentle kiss on his damp cheek.

“don’t forget it.”

let’s GO I can absolutely do this as a plus size gal m’self

gender neutral reader!

—

“Honey?”

You’re standing in front of a floor length mirror in the shared bedroom, hearing Aaron’s call; too wrapped up in vitriolic thoughts of your own being to respond. The mirror mocks and jeers at you.

Aaron’s keys clang as he puts them on downstairs, calling your name.

You twist one way and turn another, but no matter what angle you come at, you’re still dissatisfied. Tears well up in your eyes as you blanch at your own reflection before rapidly turning and easing yourself onto the edge of the bed.

Aaron calls out once more, sounding frantic but you can’t seem to muster up a response. Or is it you don’t want to?

Usually you aren’t like this. You’re confident in your being, you admire your curves. But occasionally those thoughts that society has beaten into itself grasp around your mind with its rangy fingers and force you to succumb to its level.

You hold your head in your hands and grip your hair when the door to the bedroom opens forcefully.

“Honey—?!”

You glance up at your lover, rubbing your palms on your thighs, suddenly aware of how big they look. “M’sorry.” You mumble, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

Aaron ignores this, immediately picking up on your mood. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

You’ve learned by now that lying to him doesn’t fly whatsoever, damn profilers, but before you can even get the words out you’re hiding your face from him again and shrinking in on yourself. He’s by your side the second he hears you sniffle wetly.

“Aaron I don’t— I don’t want to be held right now,” you say when he goes to wrap an arm around you. You can feel his movements pause as he prudently plans what action to take, and what could possibly be bothering you so. He lowers his arm from where it was hovering and rests it near your own: an open invitation. He goes to question you again when your meek voice speaks up.

“Aaron, am I… am I good enough? For you?” You sniffle, rubbing your nose as you look to your lover. You can see how he shatters at your state, and even further at your question.

“Honey, wh— well, yes. Of course,” Aaron replies softly, floundering a bit. He’s aghast at your seemingly out of the blue question. He adjusts, turning to face you as the bed groans with his movement. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I just—” you laugh sardonically, “I’m having a rough day. It started out fine, I don’t know when it started but it did and I’m just worried that… I’m not good enough for you. I don’t look like what men usually go for and it just got me worried if I’m… enough… for you.”

Aaron’s gaze wanders over you, the silence more defeating than anything you’ve heard. Your throat clenches and you’re about to speak up—to apologize for being so ridiculous, when he speaks.

“My life hasn’t been great,” he mumbles, eyes turning to the carpet as he ponders his next words, “but when I’m with you, when I know that I’ve got your love, that I’ve got you by my side?” He pauses as he shakes his head fondly, his small iconic Hotchner smile, as you call it, appearing on his face as he looks deep into your eyes, grasping your hands in his big ones. “It gives me a reason to live.”

“Aaron…” you breathe, at a loss for words.

“Please, sweetheart, please don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me because of the way you look or for any other reason whatsoever. I do not care what you look like; you’re you. You’re my love, and I choose you.” He squeezes your hands, eyes flickering between your own.

You smile, worries thwarted and eyes still wet from the over abundance of emotion. You lean forward, and he follows suit, your foreheads connecting as you close your eyes in contentment.

“I love you.” You whisper. Aaron huffs a small laugh from his nose and lifts his head up with slight fervency to press a lingering kiss to your hairline. He pulls you in close, chin resting on the top of your head, rocking you back and forth slightly as his arms wrap protectively around you.

You know this won’t be the last bad day you have, but having Aaron by your side, loving you unconditionally, makes the inevitable less daunting. You sigh and snuggle further into his chest.

“I love you. Please don’t forget that.” He whispers.

“I won’t.”

-

A combination of a D&D Campaign and OCs from friends such as (@xx-sushi-xx). This AU is where a lot of chaos in the writing ensues, but everything else in the world of Splatoon is still canon with a few tweaks

There are more agents now

After a long time the NSS become official as an organization of it's own and under the supervision of the government

The big yellow

I think feelings are like matter.

Once they come to be, feelings cannot be created or destroyed, only change forms. It’s why nothing can force you to change the way you feel - because you can’t crush a feeling, only turn it into something else. And that’s not so simple as they want us to believe. Perhaps feelings can change form, grief and heartache to resignation and acceptance, but the feeling - the missing - it’s still there, pounded into something else by relentless pressure and time.