#“your excellency. how are you supposed to take care of a child?” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dira333 · 5 months

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Soul-Food - Osamu x Reader

Enemies to lovers - Requested by @notsochillnerd - with Atsumu as a terrible wingman who just wanted to check out his brothers' nemesis...

There is only one thing more annoying than Miya Osamu with his cooking talent, excellent marks, and unfairly good looks: his twin brother Atsumu.

“No.” You say again, arms filled with produce. He’s in your way and he’s not even sorry about it.

“Come oooon!” He whines, draping himself over the railing of the stairs as if this is a photoshoot for some perfume. “I’m so hungry! And Osamu won’t cook for me! I’ll even pay you!”

“Wow, now I want to do it even less, knowing you might not have paid me in the first place.” You snark, patience wearing thin.

“Now get out of my way, I need to get to my room.”

“To do what?” He steps to the side, but his face remains close to yours. You’re not the fastest as it is, even less when carrying that many vegetables.

“I need to cook.”

“Perfect.” His grin is so wide, it could split his face. “You cook, I’ll eat.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate, if only for a second. But Atsumu is like a shark and that was the single drop of blood that he needed.

Half an hour later he’s sitting at the little table in your apartment.

Your kitchen isn’t spacious, but equipped with everything you could possibly need - there’s a reason this school costs an arm and a leg each year. And Miya Osamu got the scholarship instead of you.

You wouldn’t have any problem with it if not for your father breathing down your neck. He’s got the money to send you here twice if he wanted to, but in his twisted mind, a 100% is barely a passing grade and you should have been able to win the scholarship, monetary status be damned.

“What are you making?” Atsumu asks from behind you.

“Udon.”

“Why is it black?”

“I’m using Sepia.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” You snap back, hoping against hope that he will fall quiet. He doesn’t.

You’ve spent almost a year in a class with Osamu.

He might not always get a better mark than you, but he quickly figured out how much you hated it when he did. There’s nothing worse than someone else gloating over your loss.

The teachers love him and tolerate you.

So far they’ve been kind enough not to put the two of you into a group project, or maybe they just played it safe. The sheer bloodlust you feel when he grins in your direction must have tipped them off.

But this year is going to end soon and your teachers expect you to come up with a dish. Your own creation, not unlike the dish you had to make for your entry exam. This time, however, it’s supposed to showcase what you want to do, going forward.

You can’t bring the same thing you made for your entry exam, even though it was perfect and a delight - you made it roughly one hundred times before.

Your father has always been a fan of the Kaiseki Ryori and while you had loved taking part in the Haute Cuisine as a child, feeling grown up as you nibbled on tiny bites of expensive food, it has lost its appeal on you.

After all, there’s a set number of times you can eat a meal, even Chawanmushi, before you get sick of it.

“Hello? Are you still listening?” Nuisance number 2 asks behind you and you flinch, staring down at the dough that you kneaded for too long.

“What’s Osamu doing for his exam?” You ask, feeling a little guilty about your attempt at spying.

“Why do you want to know?”

Nevermind. Now you only feel annoyed.

“Just because. Maybe I want to talk about something other than you.”

You move to throw the dough out, only to be stopped by Atsumu’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I messed it up. It’s not going to taste good.”

“So what? I’m hungry.”

“You want to eat gross noodles?” You eye him warily, but he shrugs with a grin.

“It’s definitely going to be better than what I’d produce myself. But since I hate cooking, I’d probably just get takeout pizza anyway.”

“Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yeah?”

“And they let you eat Pizza?”

“They don’t know. Or they don’t care. Whatever you like better. I mean, they gave me a list of stuff I should keep away from but that’s like, all the food I usually consume.”

“Here.” You pull out a pen and paper. “Write down what you eat in a day. Snacks included. And drinks.”

“Why?”

“If I have to endure your chatting, you might as well get something out of this. Now, shoo!”

You turn, lid of your composter already open when his voice reaches you.

“DON’T THROW AWAY THE DOUGH!”

“Fine!” You snap. “You can eat your disgusting noodles!”

They don’t taste that awful in the end, not with your delicate sauce with mussels and steamed broccoli that turned out so good Atsumu licks his plate clean.

You’d been part of the track club in Middle School, switched to Volleyball in High School because they had fewer practice hours per week. Your marks had always been more important than any side activities, your future as a part of Haute Cuisine decided before you could walk. But it had been fun, especially when Coach gathered you after practice to talk about the importance of self-care. How certain foods could make or break you. How important salt and minerals were for your body, how food was more than calories, protein, carbs, and fat.

You’re not even a little bit rusty when you scribble down a meal plan for him. You keep it easy and as cheap as possible, light on the cooking because you figured he must be the opposite of his twin in the kitchen if he came begging for food… You’re not sure if you’re buying his excuse of a brotherly fight, but you’re not ashamed to say that you didn’t mind him praising your food over Osamu’s. Suck that, Miya!

Meanwhile, Atsumu’s brows are pulled so high, they’re hiding behind his bangs.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your new meal plan. You follow that, you’ll increase your stamina.”

“But it’s so much work.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Whatever.” You get up, throw the pen down at the table. Your patience has never been the best anyway.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He follows you to the sink but not to help with the dishes.

“You could cook for me.” He offers it like it’s a great deal. You snort.

“I bet there’s something you want. Something I could do for you…” He wiggles his brows now, looks disgustingly like Osamu when he got a better mark then you. And that kickstarts your brain.

“I want Osamu… I mean the recipe…You know, what Osamu made to get the scholarship. If you can get me that dish of him to try, I’ll cook for you.”

Atsumu grins in a way that doesn’t feel good but he nods.

“Alright, it’s a deal. You’ll cook for me and I get you the dish.” He holds out his hand to sign the deal but you’ve been the daughter of a cutthroat banker for too long to fall for that.

“I’ll cook for a week.” You tell him firmly and watch with a sick satisfaction as his face contorts. He looks awful when he’s pissed and there are definitely not enough moments of the Miya twins looking awful.

“Two weeks.

“One week, only dinner.”

“One week, lunch, dinner and snacks.”

“Are you insane?”

“Do you want Osamu’s food?”

There’s a moment of Silence, and you’re eyeing each other, calculating who’s bluffing and who’s not.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because you feel it in your bones that trying that damned dish will get you a step closer to figuring out what you need to present for your Final.

You feel like a drug addict, going down the deep end, when Atsumu appears at your door one week later, carrying a Bento-Box wrapped in the cutest fabric you have ever seen.

“Are those little foxes?” You ask, eyeing the reddish-tinted animals on the grey fabric.

“What if ?” He asks back, nose up in the air.

“Jeez, I was just curious.” You snap back and muster him. He doesn’t look malnourished.

“What did you eat this week?”

“Why do you ask?” He sets the Bento-Box on your table and saunters into your kitchen, peering into the still empty pots and pans.

“You’re an awful liar.”

“Okay, so I told Samu that you cooked for me.” He throws his hands up in the air like you’re the one making a big fuss about things. “Told him it was fingerlickin’ good. Got him all angry and puffy.”

You are not ashamed to say that comment lifts you off your feet just a little bit. Hah!

“So?” You ask cooly, untying the Furoshiki with eager fingers.

“So he insisted that he would cook for me. Everything went according to plan, I pretended it wasn’t as good as your food until I asked for the dish he made for his entry exams.”

“Did you know what it was?” You ask as you lift the lid of the box.

“Maybe.” He says and you can hear in his voice that he knew. He probably didn’t tell you just to experience this.

“He made Onigiri?” You ask, your voice a little shrill.

You had made Chawanmushi, a dish literally to die for, practiced one hundred times, and he beat you with Onigiri?

“Try it.” He reaches for one of the Onigiri in the box and you slap his hand away.

“Mine!” You hiss angrily and his grin is almost feral.

“I’ll take a walk around the block then.” He jokes, moving toward the door. “Leave you alone with it.”

“Leave.” You wave him off. “I’ll make dinner later.”

“Half an hour.”

“Leave!” You huff and the door clicks shut behind him.

You bite into the first Onigiri and time stops for a second.

The rice is cooked to perfection, but you know the different varieties well. He must have splurged on this kind, bought from a boutique farmer of some sorts.

It’s filled with tuna and spring onion, but it tastes different then all the Tuna Onigiri you’ve had before. You write down all the different things you can taste, compare them to the knowledge you have but still - did he use a spice you don’t know? A combination you’re not familiar with?

The taste lingers, but you cannot put your finger on it. You feel a little weepy too, as if you had just watched your favorite movie from when you were a kid. You sniff and take the other Onigiri, bite into almost cautiously. It’s Tenmusu, your favorite kind of Onigiri.

This time, literal tears run down your cheeks. The shrimp is crisp, the sweet sauce calling you back to childhood, reminding you of the few free afternoons you got to spend with your mother, just the two of you, no work allowed. You only remember to write down the taste and ingredients when the last bite has disappeared and your hands leave the paper stained.

Well… You’re no closer to figuring out what to make for your finals, but you might be getting your period soon. Why else would you be moved to tears by food?

“Onigiri, huh?” You ask Osamu after class the next day. You can’t help yourself.

He looks up from his phone, surprise on his face. It’s ridiculous how good that makes him look.

“What about it?”

“I heard you made Onigiri for your Entry Exam.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes you want to slap it off his face. “Tsumu told me he made you try it.”

You can feel your face go slack. WHAT?

“What did you think?” Osamu asks, way too confident for your taste. “Did you like them?”

You can’t decide between a huff and a snort and the sound that does come out reminds you more of a dying walruss.

“They were probably pitying you.” You point out, nose in the air. “I showed up with Kaiseki Ryori. I made Chawanmushi.”

“Ah.” Osamu sounds like he’s not sure what that is. But you’ve gone over that in class, he’s just messing with you.

“Well, when do I get to try it?”

You blink. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s only fair, right? After you tried mine.”

You swallow thickly, look around for some help, but you’re the only one’s still in the hallway.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because he does have a point. “As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

His brows furrow and your mind unhelpfully supplies you with the information that his eyes are a different shade than Atsumu’s. Osamu’s eyes are almost as grey as his hair, reminding you of the sky outside.

His mouth moves and you blink, try to focus on his voice, but fail. Your collar feels too tight around your neck and you pull at it, too aware of Osamu’s eyes that flicker to your neck and stay there. God, what’s going on?”

“What did you say?” You ask in the most snooty voice you can manage. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Why do you cook something you don’t like?” He asks. “Don’t you enjoy cooking?”

Something snaps inside you like a rubberband that has been pulled taut for too long.

“Why do you care?” You sniff and he rolls his eyes.

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were. But you’re psychological warfare doesn’t work on me! You can flutter your long eyelashes at someone else!”

Osamu laughs. “I wasn’t-”

“Neither was I. Well, are you coming or not?”

“Where?”

“You wanted to try my Chawanmushi!”

“Gesundheit.” You turn, not the least bit surprised to see Atsumu standing there. It’s lunchtime for him, he’s coming to collect his goods. “Or was that a codeword for something naughty?”

“Oh god, you’re awful.”

You know that the Chawanmushi has turned out as perfect as all the other times. You can tell by sight and smell, but you cannot bring yourself to try it.

The thought of it has you swallow back bile but you serve it to the brothers with the biggest smile you can manage.

“Here.” You present it in tiny, elegant bowls.

“Are you in pain?” Osamu asks and you drop the smile.

“Go f-”

“Why is it so tiny?” Atsumu asks, eyeing the bowl skeptically. “I’m hungry.”

“I made you Curry.” You tell him off. “This is just a tasting. You can’t eat full bowls with Kaiseki Ryori, you’d never manage that amount of food.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Atsumu digs in, spoon clinking loudly against the bowl to the point you fear for its life.

He’s done with it before Osamu has even tasted his, still smelling the dish carefully, pulling the spoon through as if to check for clumps.

“It was fine.” Atsumu gives his mark as one would comment on an order of KFC. “Now, the Curry?”

You huff but don’t get up, eyes still trained on Osamu. Then, finally, he brings the spoon to his mouth. If you’re focusing a little too much on his full lips, that’s entirely because he’s the world's slowest eater at the moment and nothing else.

His face remains passive.

Cold sweat runs down your back as he slowly but surely finishes the dish and nods appraisingly.

“It was good.” Osamu says calmly. “The Curry?”

Breathing is a little hard at the moment, but you manage to get up, collect the bowls - you don’t throw them at the floor in a fit of rage and you’re very proud of yourself for that - and get them safely to the kitchen sink.

Your hands shake a little as you serve the Curry in three different plates, but if the boys notice, they don’t comment on it.

“I hope you like it.” Your voice is back to normal, your wounded heart tucked safely back into your chest. “It’s packed with protein and healthy vegetables to make sure you have all the necessary nutrients. You could eat this every day and wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on anything.”

Atsumu digs in without another word. He beams around the spoon, curses loudly.

“This is so good.” He says, mouth full.

“Pig.” Osamu announces next to him, puts the first spoon into his mouth and-

You can see it, in the widening of his eyes and the light blush that appears on the height of his unfairly sharp cheekbones. He likes it. He likes it very much.

You should probably feel a bit more upset about the fact that they insult your Chawanmushi but get high on your Curry, but then again, it just feels good to watch Osamu have the same reaction to your Curry that you had with his Onigiri.

“You should make this for the Exam.” Osamu points out in between a groan and another spoonful of Curry. “It’s amazing.”

“No!” Atsumu shakes his head, still speaks with his mouth full. “The Udon you made yesterday. That was crazy good.”

“What Udon?” Osamu’s voice has a tint to it you cannot place. Does he know about the Onigiri you tried but not about the deal itself? Is he jealous he didn’t get to try them?

“Okay, so she makes the Noodles herself, right? This time without the freaky black stuff-”

“Sepia,” you throw in but he ignores you, “But she used pork belly for the sauce and something creamy and mushrooms, I think-”

“Shiitake.”

“And I tell you, Samu, it was so so good! Like, it reminded me of Mom making that stew, you know? When Dad had that big sale thing and we got to celebrate it?”

Osamu’s eyes light up in a way that has you looking down at your food, heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird on speed.

“Can you-” He hesitates for a second. “Can you make me that?”

“I could.” You point out, not at all feeling the upper hand. You feel nervous instead as if this is a test or something worse. You swallow thickly, try to think of something to wager against it. Your mind is unhelpful at best, offering the possibility of a date - as if!

“If I get your recipe. For the Onigiri.”

Osamu’s mouth clicks shut. He blinks, clearly surprised. Then he grins, the kind of grin that tells you this isn’t going to work in your favor, at all.

“Sure. So, Udon tomorrow?”

“I was going to make Katsudon tomorrow.” You point out, pissed that he’s overthrowing your meal plan. Atsumu looks like he’s gotten a glimpse of heaven.

“Really?”

You hate to think about it, but the week is nearing its end and Osamu feels less like the devil and more like the dangerously cute boy from your class now. The dangerously cute boy who’s going to get a better mark than you, take the promised internship at one of Japan's leading five-star restaurants and laugh in your face if you don’t shape up right now.

Your father is as helpful as ever.

He’s currently obsessed with the Yakimono part of Kaiseki Ryori, taking you out to dinner each weekend only to try new variants that you should use for your Final Exam.

The food is good, there’s no denying that, but it lacks the emotional touch you had with the Onigiri.

The same Onigiri that you’ve made three times already. They never taste like Osamu’s.

You’re suspecting that he skipped on one ingredient in the recipe, the one thing you could not put your finger on when you tried them.

“Hey.” Atsumu’s waiting at your door when you return from coffee with your mother. She had been even less helpful, talking about the new dessert dish she was creating. You might have gotten her cooking skills, but you hate baking almost as much as Chawanmushi.

“I thought we said we would skip the cooking over the weekend.”

“Yeah, about that.” He lifts a heavy bag. “I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“I’m not setting for you.”

“Why would I- Never mind, I wanted to ask… Could you like, show me… how to cook?”

You blink in surprise.

“Why would I teach you that? Don’t you have your brother?”

“He’s not a good teacher.” Atsumu points out and you snort.

“So you want to learn how to cook? And stop harassing me and Osamu?”

“No, no, I will still harass the two of you for food, but it looked easy when you did it, so I thought you could teach me, maybe?”

“Fine.”

“I’m even pa- Fine? Oh, wow, that was easy.”

“If I can ask you some questions in turn without you judging me?”

“Me, judging someone? Never.” He puts a hand on his chest, probably aiming for his heart, but he’s now swearing on his left ribcage.

You watch like a Hawk as Atsumu prepares the Omurice. He’s got a bad habit of getting distracted, but he’s not a bad student.

“So…” You swallow your nerves. “You and Osamu used to play Volleyball together, right?”

“Yeah. He could have gone Pro, like me. But he said…” He raises his hands to make air quotes and lowers his voice into a deeper pitch to mock Osamu, “Skillswise I'm just as good as you. But I think that, when all's said and done, you love volleyball just a teensy bit more than me.”

“And you were okay with that?”

“Nah.” Atsumu flips the Omurice onto a plate and hands it over to you. “Try.”

“It’s good.” You hand it back to him. “Eat.”

When Atsumu leaves, you’re left with even more questions than before.

What does it mean to love something so much you’re willing to pass up something good?

Atsumu is making good money as a Pro, even now. But Osamu had no idea if he was going to make it into this school until he tried.

And why did he make freaking Onigiri?

Midnight has come and gone when you put a jacket over your sleepshirt and slip out of your apartment in nothing but booty shorts and bunny slippers.

You’re not sure if there’s a nightguard. There might be, this is still a mixed dorm filled with hormonal teens and tweens.

Even though you’ve never been to Osamu’s place before, you know the route by heart. You had memorized it in a childish fit when you realized his room was just below the fire escape.

You wouldn’t allow him to survive you in case of an emergency.

You knock twice before you can hear movement. The door opens and you almost swallow your tongue.

His hair is in disarray as if he’d dragged his hands through it all night and there’s the imprint of his pillow left on his cheek. He’s topless and you keep your eyes trained on the imprint on his cheek as if you don’t notice his happy trail or his still well-trained abs.

He blinks slowly and yawns.

“What’s up?” He asks. Something moves over his face, quick like a sparrow. “Shit, are you hurt? Did something happen?!”

“No, no, I… Shit, I don’t know, I-”

“Come in.” He pulls you inside, but he calculates wrong, uses too much force for your quivering body. You end up mushed against his chest, face plant right into the warm skin.

If you die like this, you won’t even be mad about it.

“Shit, sorry.” He grabs you and puts you at a distance again, blush high on his cheeks.

“Your Onigiri.” You start, before he can realize that you’re flustered too. “You didn’t list all the ingredients.”

“I did.”

“Did not. They don’t taste the same.”

“Ah.” He makes that insufferable sound like he knows everything you don’t.

You want to poke his abs, but you decide against it, mainly because it would make you look weird. But they do look ni-

“Tea?” He asks and you hold your right hand with your left, just in case it turns sentient.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your Onigiri don’t taste like mine, because I make them for someone.”

“What?”

“The Tuna one.” He looks at the kettle instead of you, but his voice is wistful, distant. “I always make that one for Tsumu.”

“And the Tenmusu?”

“It’s my Mom’s favorite.” He says softly and you can’t help it, but you start to cry.

“Your Mom likes Tenmusu too?”

“Ah, shit, don’t tell me- Wait, here, take this…” He hands you a tissue to blow your nose and dry your tears.

“So you’re saying your secret ingredient is love? You’re really going to stand there and make me believe that you got the scholarship because you put love in your food?”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me. But there’s a reason your Chawanmushi did not taste as good as your Curry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Gladly.” He smirks at you and this time your hand is faster than your mind, pointer finger digging into the firm muscle of his right pectoral.

“Don’t mess with me.”

“Why not?” His face moves closer to you, or did you move closer to his? “Isn’t it fun?”

Whoever moved first doesn’t matter now as his breath washes over you. His eyes skip to your lips and you lick them, no thoughts left in your brain.

Behind him, the kettle whistles, signaling that the water’s cooking, but neither of you moves.

This could end very badly, or very great, however you want to look at it.

Your mind, helpful as ever, comes up with a sentence that just slips out of your mouth unprompted.

“Atsumu said that you loved Volleyball a little-”

He draws back the moment he hears you speak, face now closed like a window that has let down its shutters.

“Right, Atsumu.” He says, interrupting you. “You should get back to the bed.”

“But the tea…”

“I forgot.” He takes the kettle off the stove. “I was going to make a hot water bottle for myself. Sorry.”

Somehow, somewhere, you took a wrong turn.

Maybe it was when you started liking Osamu, in this weird way that has you enjoy the bickering and the competitiveness. Maybe it was even before that, when you let Atsumu get away with his needling, fed him Udon instead of throwing him out.

Or maybe it was even before that, when you didn’t put up a fight everytime your father decided for you, when your mother put work before spending time with you.

It’s a good thing that Finals are right around the corner.

You can’t focus in most classes, left staring holes into Osamu’s back.

Atsumu’s stopped showing up himself, probably now a master in cooking for himself. Or he’s gone back to Osamu, to fantastic Onigiri and whatever else he knows how to make.

Four days before the Final, someone bangs on your door.

“Jeez, I’m coming.” You pull the door open to reveal Atsumu, soaked and clearly pissed..

“You okay?” You ask. “Or do you need a towel?”

“Why are you not a couple?” He asks back. “Like, the tension was there, you were practically undressing each other at the table - in front of me, might I add - and yet you’re not even speaking to each other? I even cooked all my meals these past weeks in the hopes of hearing good news but Samu’s acting like a bug crawled up his ass and died.”

“What are you even talking abou-”

“Oh, don’t fool me.” He steps inside and moves toward your bathroom without asking. “I just ran here because all I get from Samu are cryptic messages. Did you say something?”

“No, I-”

“Spill.” Atsumu points at the kitchentable, hesitates for a second, then he points at the kitchen itself. “Make some food while your at it. Also, can I have some change of clothes?”

You make Okayu with ginger and honey, the rice porridge a comfort to your heart and a boost to Atsumu’s immune system.

It’s not a long tale. It could be, probably, but you refuse to go into more detail than necessary. Atsumu might be kind of a friend, in his weird, annoying way, but he’s still Osamu’s twin brother.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” He grabs the bag with his clothes and stalks off, dressed in one of your oversized hoodies and bright pink pajama pants, both things slightly too short on him.

“Give him a chance when he comes back,” are his parting words.

But Osamu does not show up.

Neither does he the next morning in class.

One of the teachers calls you over after class.

“You and Miya-san are pretty close, right?” She starts, speaks on while you’re still trying not to choke on your spit. “Could you bring him the notes from today? He called in sick. Tell him to take care and rest, so that he can take part in the Final.”

“I-I will.”

You end up in your own room instead, debating if you should just leave everything in front of his door and run. If he’s not at the final, you automatically win. But that’s not a win you’d feel good about, if you’re being honest to yourself.

Before you know it, you find yourself making Oyaku again, with Ginger and Honey, the one food that always gives you comfort and boosts your health. The process is simple, but it still calms you down every time. When it’s done, you look down at two portions and know what to do.

“Osamu?” The door is closed, but you can hear faint shuffling behind it. “I made you Oyaku. I heard you’re sick and got your notes from the teachers. I didn’t tell them that I’m a friend of yours, but she was convinced of it and didn’t let me change her mind. But I… we kinda are friends, right?” You feel so weird talking to the closed door.

“Even if you don’t like me, we got to keep up the reputation. Eat the Oyaku, okay? Winning doesn’t feel the same if you kick yourself out of the game.”

You put everything in front of his door and leave, lingering at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, until you hear his door. When you look back, the Oyaku is gone and all you have to do is wait.

Osamu is already outside when you step out of the classroom.

“Already finished?”

“Onigiri doesn’t take that long to make.”

“Ah, right.” You nod, don’t know if you should avoid his gaze or follow your instinct and look a bit more closely. He sounds healthy at least.

“What did you make?” His voice is gruff when he asks.

“Ginger Honey Oyaku.” You answer, voice soft. “Which might confuse the teachers because I had all the ingredients ready for honey-glazed pork belly but I decided against it at the last second.”

“I’d have loved to try that pork belly.” Osamu sighs dreamily. “But that Oyaku was so good. I could eat that everyday and never get tired of it.”

“Same.” You smile but it falters when you feel his eyes on you and you know you’ve got to say it. “I made it for you.”

“Yeah, I know-”

“No, what you said… about the Entry Exam.” You can feel your heartbeat, like the fluttering of hummingbird wings. If you’re going to pass out during your confession, you’re going to kill Osamu for it.

Behind you, the door opens and two more students step out. Osamu looks at them and back at you and you nod, point down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk?”

There’s a broom closet not far down and you slip inside only to regret it seconds later. There’s barely enough space for the two of you, his breath washing over you as you try to focus on the words you need to say. Out loud, so he can hear them too.

“I want to beat you.” You can hear him snort, but you keep your gaze on your hands. You won’t be able to speak if you look into his eyes. “But you’re also really funny and caring and cute, in a way. I could see myself, I mean, I already, you know-”

“What about Tsumu?” He asks, voice strangely hoarse.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him more? You don’t feel the need to beat him every two seconds, right?”

You roll your eyes and groan.

“Seriously? The best thing about Atsumu is that he looks kinda like you.”

If you had wanted to say more - you didn’t, but you hate letting anyone else have the last word - it leaves your mind the second his lips press onto yours.

Your mind’s not yet caught up, but your body is, hands dragging through his hair to pull him closer, to marvel at the softness of it - what conditioner is he using? - to have him a little closer.

His hands are on your hip, your back, roam over your shoulders, leaving warm trails and goosebumps behind.

Then there’s bright light and a shrill shriek and you burst away from each other only to face one of your teachers.

“What? The indecency! During an exam no less! Detention! Detention!” Her garbled words don’t make much sense, but the last word you understand.

Osamu sends you a look, his eyes speaking of little guilt and a promise to continue this latter. You can’t help but feel the same.

As it turns out, Detention automatically overrules your exceptional Exam marks. Neither of you wins the internship. Neither of you cares.

Osamu had applied to an Onigiri shop not far from the school as a second option and with your last name you have no trouble securing an internship with a well-known nutritionist for Pro Athletes.

Your father is not happy about your change in dreams, but when you explain the earning capacity of this position, and the business plan you’re already halfway through making, your excitement swaps over.

Your mother, as usual, barely listens. But you take it in stride, her usual droning on about a recipe she’s working on, by thinking about how in less than an hour, you’ll see Osamu again.

“You guys owe me.” Atsumu declares during Movie night. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, the last piece of the Pizza in his hands. “I’m talking about food for life.”

“We could have done it without you,” Osamu insists, arm around you, face nuzzled into your hair. He pretends he’s watching the movie, but you know better. He’s been thinking about the cheese crackers in your pantry for hours.

“If I hadn’t pulled you out in the rain to talk things through, you wouldn’t have gotten sick and your girlfriend wouldn’t have made Oyaku for you! That’s enough reason for you to love me forever!”

“If you hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t have had to think we were dating instead.” You point out and dig your hands into Osamu’s grip on your arms, moving away from him.

“Babe, what-” He starts but you nod in the direction of your pantry. “Get the crackers. I can’t watch you any longer.”

“Really?” His face lights up like a child in front of a Christmas tree. It’s worth the ridiculous price you paid for the crackers.

“Really.”

He kisses you and the moment could be perfect. But there’s still Atsumu, fake gagging in the background.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#I loved writing the banter #hope this is something good #my writing #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #miya osamu #miya twins #miya atsumu #osamu fluff #osamu drabble

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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

Text

Insecurities

Pairing: Husband!Charles x Wife!Reader

Rating: Pg-17

Warnings: Angst, Misunderstanding trope, parental anxiety, fear of child loss, talks of divorce, good ending

Requested: Yes/No

Request: hey can you do something with charles where the reader and he had a baby a few months ago and she is super insecure with her body, thinking that he is no longer attracted to her, there may be some misunderstanding in which she interprets the wrong things and draws these conclusions

Part One: It's Too Early

A/N: Made this Pt.2 to It’s Too Early

It's not supposed to be easy being a parent; being a parent is giving up this part of your life and becoming this whole new person, whose in charge of this little life. It petrified you beyond belief. Pierre was born at 26 weeks old. While you never told anyone, you were worried something would go wrong, and he'd be taken from you.

You were nervous and terrified to hold your son, afraid you'd hurt him somehow, not even meaning to. Charles....god, Charles was perfect. He took everything thrown at him and acted like it never affected him, he was excellent with Pierre, and some of you hated it. Why couldn't you be natural like your husband?

Charles was patient with you, but you could tell his patience was wearing thin but he wasn't home 24/7. Of course, he'd be happy to wake up in the middle of the night to soothe his crying son. He wants to do everything while he's there. But you were always there, and it wasn't helping you. It was breaking you down; you loved your son unconditionally, but a small part of you that went through all those negative tests you were terrified that if you got too close, the universe would play some cruel joke and take him away.

Charles could see how being home always with Pierre dragged you down and how you've changed; you even refuse his touch. That's what hurt him more. You didn't want to be intimate anymore, he knew it took a while for a woman to heal after giving birth, but he wasn't going to push it and started to provide you with space. You didn't want space; you just couldn't figure out how to talk to Charles about all your insecurities.

"Baby, let's go out for dinner tonight; Pierre can watch the baby, and we can....talk," Charles says, stepping back from you when you step near him.

You feel your chest grow tight with the rejection from your husband; he hasn't touched you since Pierre was born, and you know it was because your body was no longer its usual self. You nod your head in agreement and walk to your shared bedroom, thinking about what you should wear, but everything is either too form-fitting or shows off too much skin, and you can't even feel comfortable in your own skin. Why would you show it off?

You shower and try hard to make yourself somewhat.....sexy, trying hard to get your husband's attention back. You walk down the hall wearing only a robe since you need to breastfeed Pierre before you leave, but you freeze, hearing Charles's voice talking to someone on the phone.

"Nothing is where it is anymore; is that normal?" He asks the person, and you freeze, looking down at your chest. You knew that breastfeeding would change your breasts, but you didn't think that Charles would care so much about it enough to talk to someone over the phone about it.

"Yeah....but why can't it go back to normal? It's such a turnoff." He groans. Hearing that, you swallow back the tears and shake your head; walking into view, Charles turns and smiles at you brightly, acting like he is happy to see you. It was a slap to the face to see him putting on such an act when he was talking about you in such a way.

Picking up Pierre, you take him to his nursery, confusing Charles. You loved feeding Pierre in that little den corner, where the sun hit perfectly, and you could watch the sea and people below. He took a picture one day of you two together. It was the 2nd day home, and that's been his wallpaper for about 4 months. He loved that picture and used it to show this perfect family to fans and others.

The doorbell rings, and you come out wearing a loose dress that covers you but is still pretty; it is a gorgeous light purple color, and Charles wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but he knew you didn't want to be touched. Pierre comes through the door with a bunch of presents, making you laugh, and without thinking, you hug adult Pierre, causing Charles to stutter in his steps. His wife, who rejects his touches, is happier to touch someone else than him? He didn't know what to do.

"We should get going," Charles grumbles, patting his buddy on the back, who nods at him, and you list everything off, and how you pumped, and there was breastmilk in the fridge if he gets hungry. Pierre finally has to shove you out the door, Charles and you standing outside your home like you were strangers to one another. People who didn't even know each other or how to talk, you're married and have a baby together. Why would it be this way?

Walking to the restaurant, you keep your hands busy with your handbag, which would typically be wrapped in Charles's hands. But he kept his in the pockets of his suit jacket, both silent as you walked to the restaurant. You feel your breath leave when you come face to face with Brasserie du Cafe de Paris Monte-Carlo.

It was your first date, your first anniversary, where he proposed to you, and you had dinner as a married couple. Jesus Christ, you went here after discovering you were pregnant to celebrate. Was this another slap to your face? To shove how much you and your body have changed since you gave birth if it was, Charles was much crueler than you ever thought possible.

"Ahhh, Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, seeing you back after the baby is a pleasure. How is the little one?" The head waiter asks, having seen your family grow right before his eyes. You both were perfect and an actual image of true love to him. But tonight, the couple in front of him was not the one he was used to; instead, it was almost like shells of the couple.

"He's doing wonderful, Benoit. Thank you for asking." You smile as he leads you to your favorite seat. It was the one overlooking the famous Monte Carlo casino, you loved this view, and Charles saw your old smile. He swore he could see the old memories playing across your eyes.

"Well, please enjoy," Benoit says, laying down the two menus and walking off but keeping a close eye on his favorite couple.

"I wouldn't drink wine." Charles cuts, making you look up, confusion on your face, and he clears his throat.

"You're still breastfeeding. Alcohol isn't wise while still doing it." He states, trying to start a conversation, but all it does is drive the knife deeper into your heart. Just another way for him to show off how he was a better parent than you.

You just hum in agreement, and Charles curses himself, knowing he just made things worse while trying to talk to you, his wife, the woman he loves more than life itself, and he can't even do that. You both order and sip on water while Charles sips on some old expensive liquor.

"Do you want a divorce?" You don't know why you blurted it out, but you did. Charles sucks his drink down and chokes on it. A sputter of coughs leaves his mouth while gently hitting his chest, trying to regulate his breaths.

"What?" He snarls, furious beyond means that you would even ask that.

"Do you want a divorce? Because clearly, you don't want me anymore." You lean back in your seat, refusing to even look at him.

"You ask me if I want a divorce, and you can't even look at me? Y/n." He hisses, anger and being scared shitless getting the best of him.

You turn and look at him, and his anger dies. Your eyes gave everything away, the hurt, sadness, rejections, everything was right there in front of him, but he was too wrapped up to notice how much you are hurting.

"Baby, Y/n. What's going on? You don't talk to me anymore or let me touch you, but you can touch other men. I have been patient with you; I know healing after birth takes a while, but....you just feel apart, and I'm trying hard to be strong for you, but I can't help you if we don't talk." He whispers, not wanting people to hear you.

"Am I a horrible mother? I ask myself that question all the time. Wanna know why? Because when I'm next to you or you tell me something, I feel like I'm a failure. I'm terrified that if I get too close to our gorgeous baby, the universe will just take him away, and I wake up every morning dreading the day it happens. What then, Charles?" Your throat tightens, trying hard not to cry in front of all these people.

Charles stares at you in shock before grabbing his drink and swallowing it now.

"Listen to me," He pleads and leans forward. "You...there is no one else in this entire world, fucking universe I would want to be Pierre's mother. You fought day and night to get him here, and he is. He's healthy and happy, and fuck, the way he looks at you like you're his whole world, is because you are. You're his mother; he loves you, feels protected by you, and craves to be near you. I know this because I have felt that same way every day since I met you. I married you and created a life with you because no one else could do it, and I would kill anyone who ever thought about taking you or Pierre away from me, Y/n." He whispers, tears forming in his eyes.

"You say all this but refuse to touch me, and I heard you earlier on the phone talking about how nothing is where it is anymore and how it's such a turnoff." You choke out, dabbing your eyes as the waiter brings you your food.

"Wha-" Charles clears his throat and looks at the waiter. "Thank you." The waiter scurries off, sensing the tension between you two. "Y/n, I was talking about my new steering wheel for the car." He explains, and you can't help the laughter that escapes your lips.

"What? Your damn steering wheel?" You curse, laughter getting louder while Charles rubs his temples.

"Yes, they moved all the buttons to different places. I was talking to one of the engineers. Putain." He curses, shaking his head.

"Then why won't....why won't you touch me anymore?' You whisper, cutting into your steak, mouth watering at the smell of spices and butter.

"You wouldn't touch me; I figured you didn't want to be.....intimate with you recovering, so this entire time, have we had one big misunderstanding?" He asks, cutting into his Lobster Bisque. You reflect on all your interactions and groan, nodding your head and making Charles chuckle.

"If being a parent was easy, love, the world would be perfect. It's not easy, and you know what? I want us to promise something." He bites into his food and nods at how it melts in his mouth, and you can't help but giggle at how he does that whenever he eats something he loves. He even did it to you for the first time; he went down on you. Still does.

"What's that, Char?" You ask, moving your free hand to grab his, and he smiles, lifting up and kissing your fingers.

"Once a month or whenever we feel we misunderstand each other, we breathe, sit, and talk. We can't keep this up. We have Pierre now, and maybe some...more in the future. We need to stay strong." Charles mumbles, kissing your wedding ring and then the palm of your hand.

"Char." You whisper, making your husband stare up at you, his thick lashes covering half of his eyes, giving those eyes that would make any woman naked.

"Check, please!" Charles yells, making you laugh and lean over, kissing him gently.

"Always be there for me?" You ask; glad to have this man in your life.

"Always." He whispers, unable to wait for the rest of his life with you.

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followerofmercy · 1 month

Text

I think Freminet has some of the most interesting dissonance in his self perception of any Genshin character.

Like, of the Hearthlings we know, he's one of the most emotionally mature and intelligent. Lynette might still have him beat, but after playing her hangout... I dunno. I think they're tied. Lyney is Crumbling, Alrecchino is. Well. Arlecchino. Everyone else is a deeply traumatized child or adult and Freminet seems to pretty regularly be people's emotional support. His character stories talk about getting his vision by saving a bunch of other kids on a dive that went bad. The Selkie event literally had him being a therapist for a grownass woman, citing his past experiences with all the other Hearthlings that have died or killed themselves. And he handled that situation WELL. Yeah, he seems to live in a fantasy, but goddamn he's alive and a lot of people in his position aren't so clearly something is working.

Either his or Lyney's character story talks about the time Freminet had reached out to Lyney to try to ease his burdens, which resulted in Lyney blowing up at him. That probably contributed to Freminet thinking he's not good at it, but I think the reason Lyney reacted so badly was BECAUSE Freminet is actually a good support. He can't allow himself that from the little brother he's supposed to protect.

Freminet seems to both cry and dissociate often, but like... Kiddo you are in fact the only person in this family actually processing your emotions. Lynette dissociates 24/7. Arlecchino. Lyney lies and tells everyone he's fine and would literally rather die than admit otherwise. In comparison, Freminet is doing FANTASTIC

Freminet also gets a lot out of helping people! Like anyone, he needs to feel useful and needed. He seems to be an excellent mentor to the younger Hearthlings and perfectly competent on his own, but when you put him in a room with Lyney and Lynette who baby him and insist that THEY take care of HIM, he withdraws into himself.

Like, Freminet by himself feels like a young man and Freminet with the magician twins feels like a teenager. I have no idea how old he actually is. Logically, he would be OLDER than them! He's been with the House much, much longer and his experience shows. I think it's fascinating that they love him SO MUCH and yet, they just Cannot let him help them. Which is hurting him.

(Lynette is much better about not babying him and that is probably why their relationship is so much better than Freminet and Lyney's. Also why she keeps having to mediate between them. Because Lyney charges off trying to Fix Everything and that just makes Freminet feel useless and he doesn't want to get in the way and- you get the point)

Idk. It's hard to tell what things the previous director said to him vs what Arlecchino has said to him. I'm inclined to think our Arlecchino was the one that said he cries too much, but in a "crying in front of your enemies will get you killed" way and she herself is too fucked up to realize how "you cry too much" could be damaging.

Also I try not to consider gameplay stuff when it comes to story, but Freminet also has some of the most BRUTAL animations. He SMASHES HIS EMOTIONAL SUPPORT METAL PENGUIN INTO HIS ENEMY'S FACE. He doesn't think he's the most amazing fighter, and by Fatui standards he probably isn't, but he is winning fights against most grown men.

Tldr Freminet thinks he cries too much and is a burden and isn't good at helping people when he's actually the most mentally stable Hearthling send tweet

#freminet #genshin #house of hearth #character analysis #this is all over the lplace bc I'm on my phone #many freminet thoughts today #I don't wanna talk about trailer spoilers but also #this young man is a physical MONSTER #he's so similar but so different to Kaveh #where a lot of people Do perceive Freminet as a little... off #and he is #but he is a beacon of hope for all the other fucked up kids that are lost and alone #and I just think that's neat #kiddo benefits a lot from helping others #you can see how he lights up #even the hydro dragon hydro dragon don't cry #I'm sorry #this kid is comforting GOD #i think that says something

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kaiser-author-san-iii · 1 year

Text

Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem)Creator!Reader

A/N: holy Tsarista, I did not think that it would be this popular. Thank you so much!! It's been a couple months since I got into Genshin, but I'm glad that the Harbinger trailer dropped cause otherwise, this probably wouldn't have existed lol. I apologize for the late update. I have been quite stumped in the plot and just taking a moment to come up with one. If I didn't tag everyone, I'm sorry! DM or reply to be added to the taglist! :3

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially hard when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only a Fatui Skirmisher but a Fatui Harbinger?

Tags/warnings: female reader, God!reader, Cult AU,

Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora.

First>> Next>>

Masterlist>>

Chapter 2: The Creator's Welcome

Silence.

What could be said while the entire palace and the surrounding area waited with bated breath for their Grace to awaken?

They were fervent - they waited to leave and search for the "meaner" that has done harm to their Beloved but that would leave their Previous Grace with only the Heir for company and guard.

The Precious Heir - they have heard of them only from what was written centuries ago. He was beautiful - he was innocent and was crying for their Grace to wake up all while the Harbingers stood by with the Tsarista finally making her appearance, rushing towards the bed that their Grace rested in, bending the knee and holding their hand.

"Your Grace. Your Excellency. Oh, my Beloved Creator. What has that Meaner done to you?"

Nugget never left your side as he clutched onto your waist, but being careful with your arms as he was told by the blue-haired man with the mask. He was a doctor and clearly knew what he was talking about so the little one made sure to listen well. The Doctor man and the others gave them a room which is what his Auntie expected and though he was focused more on taking care of you, it was nice to wander around the room all while the Harbin Gingers (It was some word that he had trouble saying) always came to check on him and his auntie and even gave him coloring books and sweets and fruits. It was all so good and he made sure to save you some whenever you were going to wake up.

But he especially loved the Tsarista and Columbia (Colombina)

They were very nice. They held him when you were still asleep and he couldn't be there for the operation.

For what seemed like forever, when it was only a matter of four days, the bed shifted as Nugget was reading the latest book that the guy with the funny hat gave him. He wanted to read it to you when you woke up and his wish was soon coming true as he felt movement and looked over to see your [E/c] eyes. He gasped and immediately snuggled into the sheets and wrapped his small arms around your waist.

"Auntie! You're awake! You're awake!"

Soft wet globs of tears started to stain your shirt as you looked down at the child who held you tightly and didn't want to let go. It would have been endearing if it wasn't for the fact that you had almost died from possible blood poisoning from ignoring your wounds. Your Nephew remembered seeing a lot of gold and despite still learning, he knew for a fact blood was red.

Carefully holding him up and ruffling his hair, you kissed his forehead and wiped his tears away.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, Nugget. I promise, I'll be sure to look after myself but my main concern was you."

That response earned a pout but your nephew thought it was good enough for now. If you weren't healthy and in one piece, how are you supposed to find a husband or a wife?!

"Just don't go to sleep anymore or at least for a long time. You made everyone worry!"

"Everyone?"

At the mention, your Nephew saw the clear confusion on your face and smiled brightly, but with a glint of mischievousness as he swiftly, with his small feet could go, hopped out of bed but careful to stay clear from your arms, rushed to the door and yelled out.

"Auntie [Y/n] is awake!" he said with a bright smile that was quite contagious, but it was last minute that you saw a figure by the door, or make it two figures. They had hoods over their head but it was the masks that covered their identities - the sheer happiness was clear from their body movements and one of them rushed out to who knows where while your nephew ran back to your side and started to share all the books he's read while you were recovering.

He's always had trouble reading so it was a feat itself to see him now reading at his supposed grade level. He still had trouble with certain words but nothing to worry about.

While trying to process all that was happening around you, you heard multiple footsteps before the door flew open, and in walked in about a dozen people.

Your face heated up at seeing all the gorgeous faces quickly surround you, pulling your nephew close to your side, weary of what else could happen. But you could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness in their eyes from your pull away from them.

"Don't be scared. They helped us! They helped you! Especially the Doctor man." Your nephew grinned as he held your hand and decided to make you sit up and face the group properly and pointed at the Doctor. The Doctor that he mentioned was practically preening from the praise like a peacock showing off its feathers.

The grip on his hand lessened as you looked at all twelve people one by one. It didn't take a rocket scientist to distinguish the power that they all radiated. Though at the time, you didn't know of the power you held yourself.

The elegant lady with long white hair, icy blue eyes, and who seemed to scream 'Ice Queen', slowly walked up to your bedside with a gentle smile as her hand moved to slowly hold yours. Now, you wouldn't have minded if it was your nephew or family, but this was a stranger. A stranger with a very firm grip despite how delicate it was.

"Now. How shall we punish the meaner that's done this to you?"

Eh?

-x-

It was... a change to have people cater to your every whim despite half of them being just jokes like bringing you the finest gem. The honor of bestowing such a gem was by none other than the 9th Harbinger, Pantalone.

Your nephew was having a great time, especially when he got to get along with a majority of the Harbingers and the Fatui, who took the mission of entertaining Nugget very seriously.

Once your arms were good as new, you asked for the group of Fatui soldiers that you and your nephew first encountered. At first, they were adamant about having you and Nugget leave the palace but you needed to get back to your car and get the rest of your things.

But funnily enough, you don't remember a palace or an organization going by the Fatui in your life...

Not to mention, these people seemed to recognize you and your nephew despite you two not knowing any of them.

If you thought of it more, a headache occurred and the Tsarista was adamant in asking you to save your energy and that it didn't matter if you recognized them. That all that mattered was that you and the Heir were fine.

While bedridden, your Nephew had the privilege to waltz around like he owned the place and even got you some books to read in the meantime. You saw mentions of a Divine Creator, a God-like figure that was first in creating the world around you and beyond, the one that made the stars and skies. A Divine Creator from the Beyond gave life to a speck in the skies and named it Teyvat and thus, its first child was born.

During a certain period when the Creator was roaming freely, they announced that their sister was with child and so, the Creator named the unborn babe the Heir to Teyvat.

The book was quite the read and wanting to know more about why the people around you and Nugget called you the Divine Creator and the Heir, you took it around with you.

"Your Grace, you must bundle up. Snezhnayan winters are quite brutal. People freeze to death here, quite literally in fact." announced a Fatui sniper, the one that first saw you and Nugget as he came behind you and placed a coat, courtesy of Pantalone of course, on your shoulders and your nephew too.

Stepping out to the brutal snow, instead of the harsh snow that you were expecting, it was a light snowfall that shocked the group of Fatui that decided to travel with you.

[Nephew's Name] stepped out from behind you and cheered happily as he rushed out to the snow and started to play, making snowmen and snow angels with, of course, the Fatui looking out and being won over by the child's heart-felt giggles.

They were all trying to make sense of why the snowfall was reduced to just light snow instead of the blizzards they're used to until they recalled that their Divine Grace and the Heir were right here with them. Teyvat was the Divine Creator's first child and as the loyal child it was, it could always sense where they were. Though Snezhnaya was the domain of the Tsarista, the Cryo Archon, the Divine Creator's word was Law.

Ehe.

Everything came to a slow stop as the world first heard the giggle from the Creator and with each step that you had taken, noticeable patches of green started to appear and grow more and more. The chilled winds of winter called down as the grey skies parted to make way for the rays of the sun.

The Tsarista felt the pause of winter, looking out that the frozen lands of her region have warmed up to what it had been long ago before her ascension.

Her Grace has given warmth back to the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya to the point that the flora and fauna basked in the sunlight. "Nugget. Be careful. The snow is melting."

And like that, the snow stopped melting just enough for your nephew to enjoy making snow angels.

'Welcome to Teyvat, Divine Creator!'

TAGLIST:

@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno , @anonclyde , @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir

@yunsblog030 , @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33

#genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #Harbingers x reader #Fatui harbingers #genshin cult au #sagau #Dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Childe x reader #Capitano x reader #Coloumbina x reader #Sandrone x reader #Pierro x reader #female reader #Signora x reader

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anakin-skywalker-always · 8 months

Note

Fluffy 🌸 with Clone Wars Anakin please? 🥺🥺 with maybe Ahsoka and Obi-Wan shipping them?

The Long Game

Pairing: Clone Wars Era!Anakin x Jedi!Knight Reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: Nothing too bad, but due to the nature of the Clone Wars obviously there is potential mentions of death/loss/wounds etc. I am Australian and therefore swear words aren’t worth a warning for me, but I shall place a warning here regardless. As always, let me know if you think there should be something listed here.

Words: 1.5k - sorry its very short, I'm hoping a part 2 will be requested <3

Author’s Notes: ahhhhh! Thank you for the request @darthgloris I hope this is okay I had a brief idea and I ran with it, hope its still fluffy enough for you! 🥰 This was requested via my Emoji Request Prompts

Anakin was nothing if not arrogant, egotistical and, surprisingly talented to boot. As a youngling he excelled, as a Padawan learner he saved Senator and friend Padmé Amidala’s life more than once. Now, as General Skywalker, Anakin felt like he had grown into himself, grown into his power. It felt limitless, he was limitless. Anakin often had dreams of spreading himself thin, extending his power across the galaxy like a blanket, keeping everyone and everything safe.

He thought highly of himself, it wasn’t a secret. And, he didn’t think it was particularly a problem. He was the Chosen One, was he not? If anyone in the Jedi Temple was allowed to peacock a bit, it was him.

Well, that’s how Anakin rationalised it to himself anyway. Besides, Anakin did not like playing the long game. What was the point when he could sieze everything he wanted now?

Regardless, he had a sharp learning curve when it came to his own Padawan learner, Ashoka Tano. The snippy young girl challenged him more than most. He saw so much of himself in her, the power, the strength, the raw talent. Frustratingly, Anakin saw his faults in her too. Occasionally, the arrogance being something that Anakin couldn’t ignore. Like right now for example.

“Please Kestis the only reason you were moved from youngling to Padawan,” Ashoka paused, pointing her spoon at her young red-headed friend. “Is because the council wanted to try and mellow out your Master with the responsibility of a child.”

Anakin cringed as the young boy - Cal Kestis - pouted at the breakfast table. Anakin could sense Obi-wan’s displeasure from beside him, he saw his old master holding his tongue, allowing Anakin to take the floor in order to berate his Padawan.

Unfortunately, she had a point. And, embarrassingly enough, Ashoka’s argument came straight from the kitchen, so they say. Well, his mother, Shmi, used to say. Anakin remembered expressing the same frustration only a few weeks prior. Jedi Knight, Jedi Master, Council member and friend, Y/N L/N, was unable to join Anakin and Ashoka on a crucial mission in the outer rim, due to the passover of her new, young apprentice: Cal Kestis. It perhaps wasn’t the most fair or patient thing for Anakin to do, but he blamed the boy and focused all of his frustration on the twelve-year-old.

Fuck it, Anakin thought. He had to admit to himself, he was a little jealous of the boy. He could not help but want to be the center of your attention, at all times. Which isn’t a very Jedi thing to want. But Anakin wanted more. He always did. He always felt distracted, like he was slipping away from his mental fortitude the more he thought of you. You were playing some kind of long game with him, and he didn’t like it, the guessing, the pining - it all kept him up at night more than the war had.

Anakin supposed he was ought to be worried about it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He pined after you, and all he wanted was for you to maybe, even consider him more than a work colleague.

“Ahsoka.” Anakin said sternly, as he pushed his Jedi mandated food around his Jedi mandated plate with his Jedi mandated fork, not bothering to look up at his young charge. “Watch your snippy mouth.”

“She’s not wrong, Master.” Meekly, Cal Kestis mirrored General Skywalker across the table. Anakin felt for the young boy then. Anakin looked up, finally taking in the boy. With his fiery hair and splattering of freckles across his face, he seemed inherently sad, with his lips held tight in a line. Anakin couldn’t help but remember the same expression on his own face as he made his way around Watto’s junkyard.

“Do you not like your Master, young Kestis?” Obi-wan sensed Anakin’s mind was far, far away, the anxiety rolling off him in thick waves.

Cal looked up, quickly, at the two Jedi knights in front of him. He felt like he was in shock, as if the air had been torn from his lungs. Of all the questions he expected to be asked, that was not one of them.

“No!” Cal defended, adamantly. “No! Well yes!” The young Padawan could feel the heat rise to his pale face, heating the back of his neck. General Kenobi quirked an eyebrow at the boy, urging him to continue. Kestis sighed, gathering his thoughts once more. He was embarrassed. “I am afraid I am too attached to Master L/N.” He started. Anakin felt his lip twitch, fighting a smile at the honesty from the young learner. Cal continued, “I don’t want to let her down, but my lightsaber skills are not where she wants them to be, I need more training but I am afraid to ask.”

From the corner of his eye Anakin watched as Obi-wan opened his mouth. He knew what his old master would say: Just ask, Padawan. That is what the master is there for, to teach. But Anakin knew what it felt like to want more.

“I would be happy to provide you with additional combat training, Padawan Cal Kestis.” Anakin leant back in his chair, both hands happily resting behind his head, left ankle at home on his right knee, lips comfortably in a smirk.

Long game it was.

Your eyes scanned the meals room in the Temple for your Padawan learner. You knew that you could use the force to locate him, if you wanted. But, your relationship with Cal was still so new, and somehow that felt like encroaching on the young boy’s privacy.

Besides, there was another presence in the large dining hall that almost overwhelmed you. Anakin Skywalker.

Arrogant, talented, intelligent, calculated, The Chosen One, handsome, flirtatious. You weren’t sure where you stood with Anakin. You longed to call him friend, but you were ultimately convinced he saw you little more as a colleague.

Despite all that though, he was a hard man to escape at the best of times. And now, since Cal and Anakin’s Padwan, Ahsoka Tano, were friends, you knew that Anakin would always be around.

You couldn’t help the schoolgirl flutter that it striked into you. It was exciting, you supposed, to finally have something a bit easy on the eye about constantly. It certainly made the war a little easier, to do missions with Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.

Eventually, Cal’s beautiful bright hair shone like a beacon for you. You began to weave your way across the room. You couldn’t help to admit that you’ve become attached to him, you deeply cared for him, his wellbeing. As much as you loved the Jedi, you often thought of Cal playing, running free with kids his own age. Not becoming a soldier on the front lines of an intergalactic war. Perhaps that was why you slacked on Cal’s training. You simply wanted him to be loved, to be happy, to be a child.

All of the fondness you held so tightly quickly got packed away once you realised who Cal was sat with. Approaching the breakfast table you clocked Anakin’s relaxed figure. The effortlessly beautiful set of his lips, the way that his eyelashes curled upwards, you were convinced his demeanour was larger than life. And, maybe, perhaps, you let your eyes wander for a beat longer than what was socially acceptable.

Gently you placed your hand on Cal’s shoulder, perhaps it was because you were his Master, or maybe it was something deeper, something maternal, but you always felt more at ease when you had him close. With a slight bow of your head, you opened:

“Morning to you Master Kenobi, Ahsoka.” You took a moment to lick your lips, your whole mouth had gone dry, but you tried desperately to save yourself from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “General Skywalker.” The rest greeted you verbally, but Anakin said nothing, just a simple tilt of his head. You held Anakin’s gaze, his blue eyes held something else in them, you felt like he was playing some kind of game. You didn’t mind game, but only if you knew the rules, and Anakin was one to make up the play as he went along. You felt Cal clear his throat, his body lurching under your hand.

Finally, you broke the contact with Anakin, ruffiling Cal’s hair, and placing his braid behind his ear. “If you’d excusae us, my Padawan and I have much to do.”

Anakin waited for at least 30 seconds for you and your Padawan to start walking away before he turned in his chair to follow you out with his eyes.

Ahsoka watched as her usually oh-so-clever and suave and calculating Master watch Cal Kestis and his Master leave the dining hall like a Lothal Cat waiting for its owner to return. She couldn’t help but smile, Anakin’s pining was hilarious, and Master L/N was a good choice. She turned to share a look with Master Kenobi, and to Ahsoka’s delight he was chuckling softly to himself, coving his smile with his hand, playing it off as if he was simply stroking his beard.

Ahsoka knew Anakin thought he was playing some kind of long game, but it was going to be a painfully long pining. Not if she was going to have anything to do with it.

------

P.S This is a side account, my main is @mayhemories, so I will be answering any comments with that account but rest assured it is still me :) <3

Much love, El.

#anakin x reader #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #cal kestis #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #anakin skywalker clone wars #general skywalker

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pix3lplays · 11 months

Note

Hello!! I know some people get squicked out by this subject so don’t worry about answering if you don’t want to, but can I request HSR men (Welt, Sampo, Jing Yuan, Gepard, anyone else you enjoy writing for) accidentally getting their s/o pregnant?

I imagine Natasha would hunt down Sampo and drag him back to the clinic to talk bc s/o came to her crying and doesn’t know how to tell him. The rest of the boys I feel like would roll with the punches and handle it just fine.

✨ may your 5 stars be early :D ✨

Hey there! Yeah I have no problem with this prompt, I’m eager to write it, thank you for sending it in!

And thank you so much hehe, may yours be as well!

Cw! Pregnancy

-Honkai Star Rail men accidentally getting their s/o pregnant-

Welt Yang: Welt Yang I feel would notice the signs that something’s not quite right with you, but I doubt he’d suspect he accidentally got you pregnant. He just assumes your feeling a little sick or something. Until you decide to take a test because…what if? And wouldn’t you know it…pregnant. Oh he feels bad about it. He didn’t mean to. He wanted to sit down and discuss having children with you and now he’s shoved you into this parenting thing without consulting you. The man wanted to have children, but he didn’t want things to happen like this. He’ll ask you if you want to keep the baby, but deep down he’s hoping you’ll say yes, though he’ll respect your decision either way. And when you do say you want to keep the baby, he feels…warm inside. It was an accident, but your family is growing a little bigger, and the Astral Express crew is so excited by your announcement. Welt and the crew eagerly await the arrival of your baby, and you almost forget that things weren’t supposed to happen quite this way. Welt would feel like he has to make it up to you for accidentally getting you pregnant, even if you insist he doesn’t. He does all sorts of things to take care of you during your pregnancy, and he’ll always be there for you. Just call his name.

Sampo Koski:(I’m just gonna use your idea, I loved it, I hope you don’t mind!) You had no idea what to do. You knew Sampo didn’t want kids, but now here you were…pregnant. So you go to Natasha to confirm the results, and while you’re there you can’t help but break down in front of the doctor, crying because you want to have this baby, but you don’t know what Sampo is going to do. Natasha agrees to go find him for you. And when she explains the situation and brings him to you, he’s not happy. You…actually want his accidental baby? Well he doesn’t. He’ll try to encourage you to get rid of it. No need to have a child disrupting what you have, right? What you have is so good. Just you and Sampo against the world. He doesn’t need the responsibility of raising a child. But you’re determined. And you try to tell him he might like fatherhood, though he’s hard to convince. Your pregnancy is one of those rare moments where you get to see Serious Sampo, and it’s a little…bizarre to be honest. To see him so…genuine and sincere about what he wants. And what he wants is to not have a kid. But he’ll take care of you. Even if he disagrees with what you’re doing. He doesn’t stop trying to convince you to get rid of it, but once he realizes your mind really is made up, he’ll drop it and give up. There’s no point fighting with you. Your much more stubborn than he is.

Jing Yuan: Jing Yuan prefers for things to be planned out, but he’s also excellent at improvising. And you’re essentially ordering him to improvise when you announce he accidentally got you pregnant. Well he takes the news very calmly, very properly, like a newly expecting father should. “Ah, my bad…” is what he says, with a charming smile that suggests he isn’t really sorry. I think he would encourage you to keep the baby. He’s wanted to have children with you for a while now, maybe this was fate… And he’s overjoyed when you agree that you’d like to keep the baby. He’ll treat you very well. Yes, this was an accident, but the way he behaves makes it seem like he’s been prepared for this for a long time. Truthfully he’s been wanting to have the kids discussion with you, but this works too. He wants you to know he’s fully on your side and supportive of you during your pregnancy. And he lets you know just how excited he is to meet his child. (Yanqing doesn’t know how to feel about getting a sibling lolol)

Gepard Landau: OH this poor man. He apologizes so, SO profusely, begging for your forgiveness, telling you he didn’t mean to, that it was just an accident and when you reassure him that it’s OK, he asks what you want to do next. Well. You’d like to keep the baby, to be honest. The two of you have only talked about it a bit, but you both agreed you’d like to be parents should the opportunity ever present itself, and here it was. Maybe not how you were expecting it, but it still works, right? Gepard is excited! He’s been wanting to be a father for some time now, and even if this was happening all too suddenly, and because of an accident, at least it was Happening finally! He does his best to take time off work so he can take care of you, but he’s still a busy man. He does his best though, for you, and your future child.

Luocha: doesn’t want kids. But you couldn’t possibly know that. Not from the way he smiled so calmly at you and congratulated you for your pregnancy, even if it was an accident. But inwards he’s screaming at himself. Why did he have to be so careless, and get you pregnant?! But you seemed so happy, so he’ll bite his tongue. He takes great care of you during the pregnancy process. His medical skills means he’s extra prepared for this scenario. He’s always smiling, asking how you’re feeling…he doesn’t even subtly encourage you to not want the baby or anything. But oh, deep down he’s not happy. But you’re happy. You’re more important to him. So he’ll be a father to his child. He’ll take responsibility for his actions. He sees fatherhood more as a duty…a responsibility than anything else. (Now I’m imagining a scene where he gets frustrated at his kid and tells them they were an accident and he never wished for them to exist :0) (I’m just very convinced Luocha doesn’t want to be a father)

Hehe this was a fun one…I’ll do some more guys if requested!

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

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Can I ask for tech, opal, winter time and learning how to snowboard

Mountain Romance

Summary: You bring Tech on his very first vacation to a mountain cabin that you used to visit with your family. While there, you decide to teach him how to snowboard.

Pairing: TBB Tech x Reader

Word Count: 642

Prompts: Opal - Faithful Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Full disclosure, everything I know about snowboarding wouldn't even fill a thimble, lol. So I kind of skipped over the majority of that to focus on their relationship, I hope you don't mind?

“Are you quite sure that this is safe?” Tech asks as he skeptically eyes the snowboard leaning against the cabin.

“Sure! I’ve been snowboarding since I was a child.”

He turns his skeptical gaze to you, “And you have never broken a bone while doing so?”

“I…er…I wouldn’t go quite that far-” You admit with a sheepish laugh.

He arches a single brow and pins you in place with a pointed look, “So you have.”

“Oh, come on.” You hurry over to him, and take both of his hands in yours, “You’re so talented at everything you do! I know you’ll be great at this. Do you trust me?”

He sighs, “You know that I do.” Tech squeezes your hands gently, “If you really want to teach me, then I will happily let you.”

You release a happy giggle and fling your arms around his neck, “You get to teach me so much that I don’t know, so this is exciting!”

Tech’s arms slide securely around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to your temple, seeming to relax against you the longer you hold him.

“So,” You mumble after a few moments, “Are you ready?”

HIs arms tighten around you, “I suppose. Though, I have to admit that I had different ideas in mind when you said that you wanted to bring me to a cabin in the middle of nowhere.”

You giggle, “Oh, we can do that too!”

He shoots you a look, “I did not specify what I had in mind.”

At that, your grin widens and you poke his nose, “I know you and I know your brain, my clever handsome man.”

He doesn’t look the least bit sheepish, just amused. “So, how does this work?”

You beam at him and tug him over to the board, an explanation already on the tip of your tongue.

Three hours later, the pair of you retire back to the cabin.

True to your beliefs, as soon as Tech understood how to snowboard, he excelled at it. But you really didn’t expect anything different. He is skilled at just about everything he puts his mind to after all.

“I do not like that trainer you introduced me to.” Tech says as he holds open the door for you before following you into the warmth of the cabin. “To be more specific, I do not like how he looked at you.”

You pull your winter gear off, and shoot him an amused look, “He’s known me since I was a child, Tech.”

“That makes the way he looked at you even more inappropriate.” Tech grumbles.

You laugh and reach out to press your hand against his cheek, “Hey, you know that you don’t have to worry about him, right?”

Tech sighs and presses his hand over yours, “I am not worried about you. How could I be when I see how you look at me? That does not mean that I have to appreciate how he looks at you.”

“That’s true.” You stand on your toes to more easily slide your arms around his neck, “How’s this, then? I won’t interact with him anymore. It’s not like I’m friends with him.”

He slides his arms around your waist, “You do not have to do that. I just want you to be careful around him.” A small smile crosses his lips, “Afterall, I know that you are faithful to me. Just as faithful as I am to you.”

You feel warmth spread through your body, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” You whisper to him.

“I do. You show me every day.” He kisses the palm of your hand, and then pulls you into a proper kiss, “Tomorrow,” Tech murmurs, “I want to stay in with you. Can we do that?”

“Yes.” You say against his lips, “Absolutely.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika vibes 500 followers celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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martian-astro · 4 months

Text

Atmakaraka Series - Part 5

Atmakaraka is the planet with the highest degree in the birth chart.

Short note : atmakaraka can give good or bad results depending on the strength of the atmakaraka planet.

Atmakaraka in 5th house:-

The person needs to take care of children, it can be their own or somebody else's. You will also be forced to learn things that go against your beliefs.

Sun atmakaraka in 5th house - you can get really lucky during your sun mahadasha. For you, education is very important and you guys will probably do a PhD, or just a lot of diploma courses, you could also be more interested in dual degree programmes. If sun is making a conjunction with jupiter then you can be really good at speculative business. If it's with saturn, then refrain from engaging in such things. You are probably interested in learning ancient texts, especially the religious people, you will learn the language in which the texts were originally written so that you can understand them even better. If you have this placement in libra, leo or scorpio then you guys can be really good actors, if you're interested in acting, then I would suggest you to go for it.

Moon atmakaraka in 5th house - you guys are pretty criers, that's a fact. I have also noticed this placement in a lot of actors who are really good at portraying mental disorders on screen, especially, personality and eating disorders and schizophrenia. But if moon is weak, then you shouldn't do roles like these, because a lot of these actors went into depression because they played their characters "too well". I feel like even if you don't want to have children, you will end up doing a job that requires you to interact with kids. Kids really like you too, you maybe the kind of person who can very easily put kids to sleep, this is because they feel safe with you. This is also a stay-at-home parent placement. I know a woman with this placement, and she genuinely likes taking care of her kids, this is what she wanted to do, and she's happy with her life.

Mercury atmakaraka in 5th house - you are someone who likes to invest in education. I know a girl with this placement and her parents wanted to marry her off after she completed her schooling but she left her house, started earning money on her own and then went to college. I personally think that this is a REALLY REALLY good placement to have if you live in India or in a country where parents give more preference to a girl's marriage then her education, because it gives you the courage to fight for your education. You could be a very skilled performer, and have the ability to charm an audience. You guys are probably sapiosexuals. I know someone with this and one day a guy approached her and was talking to her and then he just suddenly says "she's probably loose" and majority of the women would get offended by this statement because it's misogynistic but she was more disgusted by the fact that he was stupid enough to think that a vagina could be loose, she is a medical student and so she basically gave him a 2 hour lecture explaining the structure of the vagina and how it works, it was.... funny...and sad.

Venus atmakaraka in 5th house - you are so lucky if you have this placement (if not aspected by saturn) you are literally supposed to have fun in this life. You can be good at all things that require creativity; painting, acting, singing, directing, etc. This is also an indicator of your first child being a girl, she would be very beautiful, and even if it's a boy, he would be more pretty than handsome. If venus is also the 7th Lord, then your spouse can be really good looking as well. But if venus is weak, then you can be superficial, and can also have the tendency to go for himbos/bimbos. I don't really have a lot to say about this placement, I mean.. Just have fun guys, do whatever makes you happy.

Mars atmakaraka in 5th house - you guys would be the type of parents who want their kids to excel in every single sport. You can have be good at technical things, like technology, engineering, mathematics, computer science and stuff. With this placement, conjunctions matter a lot, I know a girl with this who has her Mars AK in 5th conjunct venus and she's a ballet dancer, which requires streghth and creativity. I also know another girl with Mars AK in 5th conjunct Mercury and she's a lawyer and a pretty good one at that. You are more likely to pursue technical education if Mars is alone. You will be the parent who wins all the parent marathon and dance competitions. The type of parent to bully their kid's bully, and act oblivious afterwards.

Jupiter atmakaraka in 5th house - you will be blessed with all the things that 5th house represents, this placement also indicates having A LOT of kids (if jupiter isn't retrograde) they can be biological or adopted, doesn't matter. I have noticed that most of the time your parents are the ones who motivate you to study and encourage you to go to college and pursue higher education. You will also have to travel for higher education, it can be outside of your state, country, or continent. If you decide to have a child, then they will make you feel very happy and you can start earning more money after the birth of your first child, you will also be able to start your own business.

Saturn atmakaraka in 5th house - there can be a delay in childbirth and education. It can take you longer than others to complete your education. You are also someone who doesn't know how to enjoy, you can be very awkward in social situations. I have noticed that a lot of people with this, are those class monitors who are like, "if I see you talking again, then I will write your name on the board", this can also be one of the reasons why your classmates don't like you very much. This placement is easier to deal with if saturn is in conjunction with venus or Mercury, as this can make people see you as someone who is disciplined but also knows when to let loose.

(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)

#vedic astrology #vedic observations #astrology observations #astroblr #atmakaraka #sun atmakaraka #moon atmakaraka #mercury atmakaraka #venus atmakaraka #mars atmakaraka #jupiter atmakaraka #Saturn atmakaraka #astrology #astro community #astrology community #vedic chart #astro observations

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yaksha-lover · 1 year

Note

Hello~~ glad your requests are open, and a happy vacation for you! is it ok if I request a Riddle x reader where they bot pin each other (but havent said anything yet) and reader makes the joke/flirt that their future child is going to be hella unlucky because both of their parents are going to be short ;) (thanks!!)

Riddle x short!reader, gn pronouns but mention of biological children

Attending tea parties with Riddle and the rest of Heartslabyul has become your recent pastime. You’d dropped by occasionally before when Ace and Deuce could rope you into it, but now you’ve started coming because of Riddle’s invitation. That’s how you find yourself sitting beside Cater and Trey and across from Riddle himself.

“Wow, prefect, it’s been almost twenty minutes, and the housewarden hasn’t even critiqued your tea party etiquette once! Think it’s because he’s going easy on you?” Cater says with a wink.

Riddle glares at him: “Unlike some of you, the prefect is responsible and mature enough to study the rules beforehand. They are simply an excellent guest. Also, do not talk about me as if I am not right next to you.”

“Exactly,” you say, “There are only a few hundred rules. It isn’t hard to memorize if you care to do the work.” You smile at Riddle and feel a surge of unexpected warmth when he smiles back.

Cater repeatedly looks between the two of you before staring at Trey: “You’re seeing this too, right?”

Trey laughs. “Such high praise, Riddle. And you, perfect. You’re so sensible; it’s almost like having another Riddle around.”

“I suppose we are quite similar in some ways,” you say, suddenly feeling shy. “Maybe even too alike in some. It’s unfortunate, but I suppose our children will also have to bear the burden of our similar stature.”

Silence ensues as Riddle turns as red as his hair. It doesn’t last long as Cater and Trey’s laughter fills the air. You flush a little but begin to laugh along with them.

“Prefect?” Riddle asks, baffled at your state.

“Apologies, Riddle, I guess I had to tease you a little.” You say, reaching across the table to take his hand. He looks to the side but doesn’t pull away.

“Our children would be at no disadvantage to others just because of their height. I would ensure that.”

It’s your turn to be embarrassed as you suddenly find the hedgehogs on the lawn to be quite interesting.

“Lighten up, you two! You’re still in school. There’s no reason to dwell on your inevitably short children now.”

Riddle finally turns back to the table to scowl at Cater: “In accordance with the rules, no talk of children is appropriate while drinking Hibiscus tea. Do you not realize what you are drinking, Cater?”

“Well, look at the time,” Cater says, checking his invisible watch, “Trey and I have to get going for that thing we have. Right, Trey?

“Ah yes, that thing. We better go quick or else we’ll be late. We wouldn’t want to reflect poorly on Heartslabyul like that, would we housewarden?”

Riddle sighs in exasperation: “Just leave, you two.”

After Cater and Trey mumble quick ‘goodbyes’ and ‘see you next tea party,’ you and Riddle are left alone at the table. He still hasn’t pulled away from your hand.

“Prefect, I know you jest, but I was serious about what I said. I hope my height does not…dissuade you from me.”

“Of course not, Riddle. That would be awfully hypocritical of me, don’t you think?” You stroke your thumb across his hand. “Plus, I know better than anyone not to judge someone by their appearance. You’re hardworking, intelligent, talented…and I find you quite beautiful.”

Riddle turns his hand over to hold yours properly, his voice shakier and softer than you’ve ever heard: “I’d like to see our future together if you’re willing to join me.”

When you squeeze his hand, Riddle knows you’ll be by his side.

#riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #trey clover #twst #twst riddle #twisted wonderland

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the-au-thor · 6 months

Text

Little Witch | Chapter 1

A/N: IDK , I just want to post this story cause it's addictive. Any feedback or request, you know i'm available

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader. [No use of y/n]

Words: 2.8k

Warning: read it here!

⇜ ⇝

"There's my little Witch...""

Chapter 1

You gripped the steering wheel tightly while muttering unintelligible words. You couldn't curse in front of Matilda. The whole point of raising her was to make her a better version of yourself and Mela, so you wouldn't utter a single curse word in her presence. Besides, being a primary school teacher, it was expected that you replace any curse with much softer expressions – something that wouldn't sound like a reason for parents to complain to the school.

You were supposed to be at the school by 7 pm for the parent-teacher meeting, and you'd have to miss it if Spencer didn't show up soon.

Spencer Reid. He irritated you, it was more of a personal issue than his fault. It was because you felt he was constantly reading between the lines. He was an excellent behavior analyst, skilled at understanding people. You suspected he even knew about you before you revealed yourself. Though he insisted he had no idea who you were before meeting at the café.

Here's the thing: you could raise Matilda on your own. In fact, that was the exact plan you had laid out from the moment you knew Mela had passed away. You would take care of Matilda, and she would be yours. She had always been a bit yours, as Mela had wanted it. "You were born knowing how to take care of others. You always took care of me. I'm the one who has to learn," Mela used to say with a childish smile.

You didn't know who the father was until you found the note Mela had left inside a photo album. The force of your conscience overpowered your desire. You investigated Spencer before appearing at the University of Washington after one of his lectures. You entered the auditorium while he spoke and hated every part of it. Hated it because he looked decent and good – qualities you didn't expect from someone who had been with your sister. Mela used to attract losers who took advantage of her vulnerability to manipulate and leave her feeling miserable.

You wanted Spencer to give you reasons to leave that room and not tell him he was the father of a beautiful one-year-old girl. But deep down, you knew that if he had known about Mela's pregnancy, Spencer would have been in every little step in that journey, giving everything even if Mela was a disaster waiting to happen.

You didn't expect him to accept the news without question, and you wouldn't trust someone who acknowledged paternity without conducting their own investigations. Spencer and Matilda underwent DNA tests and went through the family system to divide responsibilities. You wouldn't just hand Matilda over; you had become her legal mother immediately after Mela's passing, and Spencer had to adapt to both of you, not the other way around.

However, you had to understand that adaptation was everyone's job, especially yours. In the past months, Matilda had perfectly adjusted to Spencer, calling him by who he was and looking at him the way she looked at you—with unconditional love. But you had much more to process than Matilda. For her, Spencer was her dad. Period. For you, Spencer was the man who could have changed your sister's life if only he had decided to stay a little longer and support her. You knew you couldn't blame him for Mela's fate, but it was easier this way. Blaming Spencer meant thinking much less about the responsibility you may had in your sister's bad decisions. So you had to make decisions for Matilda's well-being, not yours. And Matilda's well-being, whether you liked it or not, depended fifty percent on Spencer. So you had to be flexible with your time and priorities because you were raising a child with a man you barely knew and whose history with your sister was mostly a mystery.

But this was crossing the line. You understood there would be weeks when you snd Matilda would have to adjust care days because Spencer would be away for work. Or times when he would pick up Matilda very late. When you felt a pang of sympathy seeing him alone, leaving with Matilda in his arms, you reminded yourself that you were doing the right thing and that if you could take care of the girl on your own designated days, he could too. However, it was the third time this month that Spencer was late to pick up Matilda, and you couldn't continue like this. Not when you also had other responsibilities to attend to, and he needed to respect that. Instead of calling and discussing it, you headed to his workplace, and you would talk. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't bring Matilda, but it was late, you had canceled your doctor's appointment, needed to get to the school on time for the meeting, and had no one to watch her with such short notice.

"It's fine, little bug." You stopped the car and unbuckled Matilda's car seat. Her hair had grown, even in braids. You had to fix a few loose strands that had escaped her intricate hairstyle. "We're going to make a very quick stop, and then you can get ice cream."

Ice cream that her father would have to pay for and then deal with the sugar rush by himself. It was the least he could do for being late on an important day. You had discussed it before. Matilda looked at you with a smile and playfully touched the dimple on your cheek as you held her while passing through the entrance of the BAU building. You didn't have to do much; your name was at the front desk. Spencer and you had made those arrangements—emergency contacts, key copies, names at the front desk, and so on. You had never had to use that help until now, and it was regrettable that you were annoyed. Usually, you paid attention to new places, but this time, you saw nothing except the elevator indicator and the floor tiles as you walked past the offices of the Unit where Spencer worked.

You looked through the glass of the massive entrance doors, trying to find Spencer's face. You knew you would spot him easily; his long hair wasn't hard to notice. Matilda pressed her palm against the glass, making enough noise to be heard but not enough to cause damage. You caught her hand and brought it to your lips, kissing the back affectionately.

"Wait, baby, don't do that," you stood on your toes to look towards the stairs, then felt footsteps behind you.

Turning around, you faced a blonde in a colorful floral dress and heels that would be deadly on you, but she carried them well. She looked at you and Matilda curiously but smiled charmingly anyway.

"Can I help you with something?"

You stepped away from the glass door and nodded vaguely, settling Matilda in your arms.

"Yes, please. In fact, I need to find Spencer Reid," you spoke and attempted a smile, aware that the blonde wasn't to blame for your issue with him. "Is he here?"

The blonde checked her wristwatch and nodded.

"He's about to arrive. I can make you girls company while you wait." She led you down the hallway to some chairs by the windows and smiled again as she walked carefully in her towering heels. "I'm Penelope, by the way."

You sat Matilda in the chair, straightening her dress as you sat next to her. You introduced yourself to Penelope and looked at Matilda. "Sweetie, did you hear that? She introduced herself. Her name is Penelope. What do we say when we meet someone?"

Matilda looked at Penelope, smiling broadly and showing her small white teeth. "Nice to meet you."

Her sweet voice and smile completely won over Penelope. It was the power of young children; they melted any heart.

"Oh, you're adorable," Penelope admitted with a playful voice, then gave her a genuine smile. "How old are you, Matilda?"

"I'm one and nine months" she answered slowly but clearly.

You patted her back proudly; you were working on improving her pronunciation, and Matilda was a little bright star. You used to think she was simply unique, but after meeting Spencer, you knew there was a strong inheritance in her.

"That's sensational! It's the best age," Penelope responded with enthusiasm and then looked at you, shaking her head. "I have no memory of that time." She whispered, making you chuckle, and both of you watched Matilda, who swung her legs absentmindedly, looking around with curiosity. "And what do you like to be called? Mattie, Ilde?"

The little girl laughed and looked at you hesitantly; you shrugged, raising your eyebrows.

"Don't look at me. She's asking you. How do I call you?"

"Little bug?" she asked uncertainly, making Penelope scrunch her face in an endearing pout. Matilda had her captivated.

"Yes, but how do your grandparents call you?"

"Tildie," she answered Penelope. "Daddy calls me little witch." Matilda's gaze shifted when she heard the sound of the elevator doors opening, and the sparkle in her eyes seemed to grow with joy as she jumped up. "Daddy!"

"Daddy?" Penelope asked again, stretching her face in surprise and confusion.

You quickly stood up when you saw Matilda hanging from Spencer's arms, and he smiled at her with surprise.

"There's my Little witch!"

Penelope stood up, opening her mouth in an 'o' and waved her hands in the air.

"Hell. There's. No.Way," she exclaimed in a surprised, choked shout.

Spencer wasn't alone; an older man with a mustache and a woman with dark skin accompanied him. You knew who they were. Spencer had talked about his colleagues, and you had noticed the affection with which he spoke about them. He kissed Matilda's forehead and then smoothed his own hair; some brown strands had escaped and were brushing against Matilda's forehead when she approached to kiss his cheek.

Penelope then looked at you, still with a surprised expression. "She said Daddy, right, or am I in a very weird different dimension?" she asked again.

You didn't give explanations; that was Spencer's business, so you pressed your lips, sending her a smile that tried—or so you hoped—to calm her. You walked towards Spencer with your smile starting to falter.

"You forgot again," you murmured seriously when you were close enough. He looked at you with remorse. "I have a parent-teacher meeting. I'll stop by your apartment to drop off her clean clothes, okay?" you asked, and Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Yes, I'm sorry. We had to close a case, and it took longer than expected," he whispered back, then looked at his companions. "These are Tara and David Rossi," he introduced them, and you greeted them, shaking their hands with a cordial smile. "I see you finally met Penelope," he added, turning to see the woman who still looked surprised.

Penelope put her hands on her chest with contained excitement.

"Finally?" she barely stammered at an audible volume.

You tried to smile at her.

"Oh yes, she welcomed us, right, little bug?" you asked Matilda, stroking her chin. "What do we say when we meet someone?"

Matilda looked at Tara and then at Rossi, who watched her attentively with smiles. David looked amazed, although he tried to hide it. Penelope, on the other hand, was an open book.

"Nice to meet you," she repeated the phrase as the new etiquette ritual she had been learning.

"I'm sorry I have to leave so quickly, but I have to work," you said your goodbyes to Tara, David, and Penelope with a smile. You looked at Spencer, adding the last part with a sigh, "You and I need to talk later. I'll swing by your apartment to drop off her clean clothes, okay?" you asked, and Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line.

You knew he hated every second of this, just like yoy. He looked somewhat disoriented, nervous, and surprised, and you understood because you had never set foot in that place, and judging by his coworkers' reactions, they certainly didn't expect a scene like that. So you left them to let him deal with it .

When the parent-teacher meeting ended, Levi, one of the single parents in that grade, was keeping you company while you organized things inside the classroom. His son, Benjamin, was a bright and hyperactive 11-year-old boy whom you had worked hard to help concentrate. Initially, it was just with English, but then you were assigned a grade in the school, and you had him as a student since he was 6 years old. This would be the year they graduated from elementary school, so it was bittersweet for you. Anyway, Levi and his ex-wife had an ugly divorce, and due to her mental health, he had been assigned as Benjamin's sole guardian when the boy was just a few months old. His ex-wife never attended visits and wanted nothing to do with the child.

Levi was conventionally handsome; not overly muscular nor skinny. He worked as a real estate agent for politicians and celebrities, so he always maintained a healthy and well-groomed appearance, with his well-styled blonde hair, trendy glasses, and coordinated clothing. He was kind, polite, and more concerned than most parents in Benjamin's grade, so he scored points. You had become excellent friends and confidants.

"So, he was late again," he sighed, pushing a strand of hair in a Clark Kent-like manner and adjusting his glasses.

"He wasn't late again," you rolled your eyes, organizing student files on his desk. "He was going to pick her up; he just got delayed."

Levi was the one rolling his eyes. "Is it the fourth time this month?"

"Third," you corrected, locking the drawer of your desk and grabbing your bag to sling it over your shoulder. "But it's because his job is very demanding. He's chasing criminals, Lev."

Levi shrugged.

"You're educating a bunch of little criminals." He joked, earning a gentle shoulder punch. "It's true!" he protested, still laughing.

"I'll rephrase; he's chasing psychopaths. And I remind you that one of those little criminals, as you said, is your own son," you added, and Levi didn't seem to mind, as he shrugged again with a playful smile.

"That's why I say it. I have the perspective of experience," he laughed, putting his hands in his pants pockets. "So... are you going to talk to him? You need to sort this out somehow; you can't keep changing your plans because he can't do his most important job"

"It's hard, Levi," you sighed. "I guess he's still adjusting. A year ago, he didn't even know he was a father, and I've actually been surprised by how quickly he took on his responsibilities."

"No. No," he shook his head with sudden seriousness. "Don't look at me like that. You know what I'll say; if he wanted to be part of Matilda's life when you dropped the bomb that she was his daughter, he knew that the decision had to come with some adaptation on his part. If you want to be a father, you just have to be willing. Promptness comes with the role of a father; there's no merit in it."

You knew that. But somehow, you felt the need to defend Spencer, and you also felt that even if it was a father's obligation to adapt, they deserved credit for it. It takes more than just a sense of responsibility to step back for a person whose existence you didn't know about before, even if it's your own blood.

"Anyway, Levi, he still has a lot to digest."

Levi snorted. You knew it was nothing against Spencer; it was more of a personal resentment against the circumstance. Not everyone was like him; a single father with a full-time job, a child diagnosed with ADHD, and a mother diagnosed with Parkinson's in his care.

Spencer didn't have it easy either; he had a more than full-time job that constantly put him at risk and absorbed his complete attention and energy. He also had to adapt to fatherhood and take care of his mother with schizophrenia and Alzheimer's.

"You and him would get along," you murmured, making him snort again.

"Not at all," he responded almost defensively, making you laugh.

"One day, I'll invite you both to the same restaurant and not show up. You'll see that you have more in common than you think, and you'll become best friends. And you'll forget about me," you smiled confidently.

"Let him stop standing up Matilda, and then I might consider being his acquaintance," he said sarcastically.

You sighed impatiently, walked to his car, and looked at him, deciding that you couldn't convince him to change his opinion of Spencer.

"He didn't stand her up," you rolled your eyes in response, then looked at him, raising your eyebrows. "I guess I'll see you at the winter dance," you added mockingly.

Levi rolled his eyes with irritation. "I had no choice; no other parent volunteered. Kids. At his age, I didn't have dances, just a bag of candy and maybe a day off from school."

You laughed, getting into the car.

"Now you sound like an old man, Levi. Take care. Get home safely."

"Good luck with Spencer," he wished as a parting remark and got into his car to leave the sparsely populated school parking lot.

You played music on the way to Spencer's house. You could drive there with your eyes closed. You had to go thousands of times in the first few weeks to help him with Matilda. It's not that she didn't want him from the moment they met, because she loved him. And he loved her, there was no doubt. But the adaptation was on both sides. Matilda lost her mom, with whom she lived in a small apartment downtown above a little shop, and had to move to your suburban home in Washington. In addition to that, she met her dad, which was a completely new concept for her. She called her grandfather "dad," and let's say he didn't take the new title well.

They were delighted with Spencer. You can't forget their radiant smiles when they visited Washington to meet Spencer and see Matilda. Of all the bad decisions Mela made, Spencer was undoubtedly an exception. They didn't say it, but you saw it in their eyes, and sometimes it became a bit unbearable. Mela was difficult, but she was good, and life had simply been too unfair to her.

You parked the car outside Spencer's complex and took your bag and Matilda's backpack with you, entering the building and starting to climb the stairs. You didn't have to wait too long outside the apartment, and in a couple of seconds, Spencer invited you in.

He was wearing sweatpants, a beige T-shirt, and over it, a long unbuttoned knitted vest.

"I made tea. Oh. Wait; Do you want herbal tea instead?" he offered immediately with courtesy.

"Herbal, please," you softly requested, sitting on the sofa, avoiding getting too comfortable, although you were so tired that you could very well stretch out and take off your heels. "I brought the cat," you added, taking out Matilda's favorite stuffed animal.

Spencer quickly took the crocheted toy. He had told you it was a gift from Penelope. One of her many talents, he commented—besides her programming skills and well-intentioned gossip—was creating these dedicated crocheted amigurumis. For one of his birthdays, she gave him a cardboard box with the cat inside, and despite it not being conceptual, Spencer couldn't help but note the symbolism in it. He quickly caught Matilda's interest as soon as she started exploring everything in her father's apartment, and Spencer decided to give it to her as a metaphorical gesture. That way, a part of him would always be with her.

"Schrödinger," he murmured, delicately taking the toy in his hands and looking at it for a few seconds before returning his attention to you. "I promised her I would put it in bed with her, so she'd wake up with him. It took me a while to get her to sleep tonight."

You rolled your eyes as he went to Matilda's room and returned. Matilda fell asleep right away with Spencer. She loved listening to him talk and always asked him for stories. At least Spencer still needed you to make sure he ate his meals.

"She's sound asleep. As soon as I put the toy next to her, she hugged it," Spencer went to the kitchen with a smile and came back with two steaming bowls of tea, handing you one. "I hope you don't mind the honey."

You sniffed the ginger and lemon tones and smiled. "Not at all," you replied. "Thanks."

Spencer sat in his seat across from you and looked at you with his lips in a thin line.

"I'm sorry for today. I really wanted to be on time."

You nodded, acknowledging his honest tone, and took a sip of your tea to gather some courage to do something you weren't used to doing with him; have a personal conversation.

"You could have been on time if you had told your colleagues that Matilda existed, you know? It makes things easier," you said calmly, not wanting to sound accusing. You didn't want to make him feel guilty; he surely had his reasons. The truth was that you were doing it because you had personally experienced the benefits of letting others know about the existence of a little person who depended on you. It made your life a bit more flexible, and you could adapt to Matilda's needs.

Spencer nodded slowly, as if he had expected that response.

"They were very surprised to see me with Matilda. I had to give a lot of explanations," he admitted, then released the accumulated air from his cheeks. "I guess if they didn't find out, then... my life as her father wouldn't feel boxed in," he tried to explain.

"Are you ashamed of being a father?" you asked in a tone of surprise. Even for you, that possibility seemed strange for someone like Spencer, who despite the complications, seemed to thoroughly enjoy his fatherhood and the time he spent with Tildie.

Spencer furrowed his brow at your question, almost offended. "What are you talking about? It's wonderful. Matilda is the most wonderful girl in the world. It's not that. It's... I feel that not mentioning it made it easier than explaining her existence. If I talk about Matilda, they'll ask about her mom, and if I talk about her mom, then I'll have to talk about everything I did wrong. About a past I want to forget."

Every word hurted you, but you couldn't be angry with him for thinking that way. You didn't talk very often unless it was about Matilda. You had never shared tea and discussed feelings. You figured that starting to do so felt hard to process. Even after a year and a few months since Spencer became involved in Matilda's life, you still didn't know the story that Spencer and Mela had shared, and to be honest, you weren't sure if you were ready to hear it.

"I'm sorry I forced you to have to talk to them about Tildie. It wasn't fair," you admitted with an uneasy tone in your voice.

"Don't worry," he shook his head. "They had to find out, and you have an important job to do."

You nervously bit your lips. "Was it tough explaining it to your boss?"

"Hotchner is a father; he understood my situation better than anyone. Although, of course, everyone was a bit angry, asking me why I hadn't asked for help."

"I figured if they're your friends, they would be a bit upset about that. At least J.J knew about her," you shrugged, trying to stay optimistic about it.

Spencer looked up at you and nodded calmly.

"Yes. J.J is my best friend; she wouldn't forgive me if I hadn't told her. I wish she had been there today; I know she would have supported me a bit. Although, thinking about it, Penelope made an effort to talk to me today just because her curiosity about Matilda is greater than her anger."

You hid a amused smile behind the tea cup. "She was lovely with me and Matilda. And she really looked completely flabbergasted," you added with amusement as you recalled her face.

Spencer stretched in his seat, leaning his head back with a relaxed and genuine smile. "If you had stayed, you would have seen Derek lose his mind."

"Don't get me wrong, I just want to know who Matilda is surrounded by when I'm not around, but I'm not worried because I know you wouldn't put anyone dangerous near her," you admitted, furrowing your brow, drinking the last part of your herbal tea. "I have to go home. I'm dying for a bath and my bed," you complained and went to the kitchen to leave your cup. Upon arrival, you found dirty pots, plates stained with food, and stacked in the dishwasher. You sent a look to Spencer.

"No, no. You don'thave to..." Spencer entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes when he saw you roll up your sleeves and start washing. "I'll do it."

"You were about to die on that couch; your dark circles have dark circles," you accused. "And Matilda will probably wake you up because she's been having nightmares about some monsters she saw in Aliens."

"Why would she watch Aliens?" Spencer asked.

"Because she knows how to use the TV. My father, who loves Sigourney Weaver, was babysitting her; it was all a bad combination. Now she wants to work in space."

Spencer stifled a laugh with a mix of pride and amusement. "That little witch," he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck and frowned. "I think you should talk to your father about what Matilda should and shouldn't watch."

You couldn't help but laugh ironically.

"Oh, yeah. I'll try that," you replied, whistling with humor. "Although I think he'd listen to you more. Did you know I tried seafood in my first year of life? Dad didn't want to listen to the pediatrician and gave me oysters."

"You're kidding" Spencer tilted his head in defeat.

You flashed a wistful smile.

"That's how we found out Mela was allergic. Very allergic," you added. Suddenly, the mention of your sister seemed to intensify the air in the kitchen. Both of you tensed, and silence filled the space. You looked at the clean dishes. "Done," you announced after a few minutes when everything was cleaned, and you walked into the living room for your bag. "Hey, in the backpack, I brought some word games to work on her pronunciation. The Rs are giving her trouble, and she's starting to read words."

"What? When?" Spencer asked surprised.

"Uh... it was like... three or four days ago. It's not surprising. My house is full of books, and so is yours. I'm always reading to her, and you tell her stories before bedtime. It's not a big deal, really; it could be worse."

"What could be worse?" Spencer laughed halfheartedly. "Now, I have to filter everything she reads. There are things in my library that aren't for a 2-year-old."

"One and nine months," you corrected him with humor. "I know, but listen to this; Benjamin, the son of a friend, started talking at two, and the only way he communicated was by talking super fast because he wanted to imitate the rappers he listened to on his phone." You shrugged. "It could be worse," you emphasized and smiled "I also brought two books that are totally perfect for her, and you won't have to filter them, Papa Bear."

Spencer sighed. "I know you take care of everything. Thank you." He sounded honest and grateful, but there was something in his look that concerned you.

You couldn't help but worry about him too.

"What's going on?" you asked, and even before Spencer denied anything, you insisted with a half-smile, "Come on, you can tell me."

You watched his lips tremble with doubt before responding.

"It's Matilda," he murmured. "I'm not sure if I really want this for her."

You furrowed your brow. "Want what?"

"All of this; reading at two and a half , knowing how to use technological devices, and all that," he explained.

You looked at him, confused, and gently shook your head, taking a step toward him.

"She's very bright. I know not everything is inherited, but there's a clear genetic predisposition, and to be honest, we've both encouraged her. And that's not a bad thing. The truth is, she's wonderful."

"I know!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the mere description of Tildie. You knew he loved her deeply; that kind of reaction couldn't be faked. "But I went through this. It's enormous pressure. Kids teased me, and I was always alone. I couldn't have friends my age."

You nodded, trying to understand. You had lived in an isolated place, and Mela had always been your best friend. However, making new friends was never a problem for you. You still maintained friendships from school and university. It hadn't been a problem for you, but you saw children daily struggling to connect with others and constantly being excluded for being different.

"Well, here's the thing; maybe I don't have superior intelligence in my genes, but I have the ability to defend myself very well. You can trust that Matilda will be brilliant and learn to stand on her own. We won't let her suffer for being different. She'll never be alone, I swear "

He looked at you hesitantly. "Do you promise?"

You slightly furrowed your brow, looking at him with more tenderness than you thought you'd feel for him. He looked vulnerable, and for the first time, you stopped seeing the genius doctor. You stopped seeing the man who slept with your sister and then left her. You stopped seeing the licentiate you met in a university cafe. You saw Matilda's father, loving her and caring enough to tell you, his fears and you had no idea how much it meant to you until now.

"Of course," you smiled. "And my father won't let anyone bully her. I promise." You tried to break the ice, successfully eliciting a smile from Spencer. "Besides, she won't be the only brilliant girl. She'll have you. No one else will understand her better than you."

After that, he studied you calmly.

"You look tired. I'm sorry I was late today; otherwise, I would have picked up the little witch, and you would have gone straight home after your meeting."

You shrugged again. "No use crying over spilled milk. Just try to do better next week if you're in town at least."

"I will be, and we'll have break for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'll call your parents."

You swallowed with surprise and discomfort, covering the emotions with a smile. Great, now you'd spend Christmas in the countryside with Spencer and your parents. All together and without Mela. Yey.

"I'll say goodbye to Matilda and head home," you announced, carefully walking to her room and giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. The little one continued to sleep peacefully even after the gesture. You saw her beautiful lips open as she let out a relaxed sigh and smiled.

You couldn't quite describe how the love for her burned in your chest. It was akin to a sip of good whiskey, but without any consequences. You said your goodbyes, knowing she wouldn't hear, and left the room Spencer had prepared for her. You said your goodbyes to him, who tiredly gave you a smile and a wave. You left with your heart pounding, as it always did when you walked away from Matilda, deciding not to think about how lonely your house would be when you got there.

#criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic

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24hlevi · 11 months

Text

— beside you

aza toma (jigokuraku) x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: fluff scenario #2 (sick day together) & fluff prompt #10 (“i’m..happy when you're here. i'm happy”) from my 2,000 follower event

warnings: none

wc: 919

Looking at the same four walls for hours on end was draining. The plain color palette became an eyesore after a while, and you could swear you would go crazy if it was spent in another moment of silence. Being sick was one of the worst feelings in the world. It didn't help being an Asaemon as well, having to deal with the heckling from the others and Fuchi’s attempts at giving you medicine that tasted like garbage. You were just about to fall asleep, your eyes slowly closing when you heard knocking and the door slid open.

“Y/n!”

It was Toma, of course, it was him. He was the only one who would genuinely check up on you during times like this where the others just went on with their normal lives. But, you knew the reason why. Because Toma wasn't like the rest of them, he was here for ulterior motives to get his brother out of the cell he was being kept in. You figured it out rather quickly, and confronted Toma on this shortly after you did, and agreed to keep it quiet between the two of you.

“Hello, Toma,” You said to him, your voice raspy as you spoke.

Toma smiled over at you, walking to you and taking a seat down besides you on the short futon. He set his sword down next to him, and looked over at you. “How are you doing?”

“Terrible,” You muttered.

“Figures,” Toma nodded. “Are you in need of anything?” He asked.

Shaking your head in response, you rolled over onto your side to see him better. “Why do you even care about me so much?”

He tilted his head to the side, eyeing you with confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” You said. “You're the only one who's checked up on me other than Sagiri and Fuchi on a few occasions. Why?”

Toma let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes now avoiding yours as he replied, “No reason. I suppose because you're the only normal one here, and you're the kindest one towards me even knowing what I’m really here for,”

“None of us here are normal,” You were tempted to roll your eyes, but didn't in the end.

You had been with the Asaemon’s for a long while now, since you were a child. Toma was completely new to all of the things they did. You knew everyone here in and out. He didn't. He was excellent with a sword, but you all were. That's why you were all here. You never asked about Toma’s life before he came to the Asaemon’s, not wanting to dig deeper into the reasoning as to why he came here in the first place. He never asked about yours, assuming it would be close enough to how all the others showed up here and so he didn't bother trying. It was an unspoken agreement between you two.

Suddenly, Toma pushed his sword aside and moved so he was sitting next to you, him on the ground while you were still on the futon. You looked at him confused before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you up slightly so you were sitting up leaning against the wall.

“What are you doing?” You asked in confusion, looking up at him.

“Nothing,” He answered, shaking his head lightly.

You eyed him suspiciously, knowing there was a reason why he was doing this and wanting to figure out what. One thing about Toma was that he was hard to read, well, it was easier for you who found out about his brother rather quickly, but for everyone roselake it was difficult to see what he was really thinking behind that plastered smile. But, that's one thing you liked about him.

“What're you thinking about?” Toma asked you, looking down at you.

“Just wondering,” You replied, giving a subtle shrug in his direction.

“Of?” His voice trailed off as he spoke.

“Well,” You started, leaning your head on his shoulder and resting your eyes closed. “It's odd. You're the one I’m closest to here and you've barely been here for a few months whereas I’ve been with the others since I was little. But, I’m…happy when you're here. I’m happy. I don't completely understand why but-”

Just as you were about to finish, you were cut off from your words by feeling lips pressed against yours. After the initial shock, you realized what was happening and kissed back before Toma pulled away from you.

“I also feel happy when you're here with me, Y/n. I've held back these feelings but I can't anymore. I am in love with you, and I hope you are too,” Toma told you, his eyes looking away from you again as his hair covered his face.

Gently moving his hair from his face, you looked at Toma with a small smile, “Of course, I am in love with you as well, Toma,”

A smile immediately grew on Toma’s face as he glanced back over at you, “Really?”

“Really,” You nodded.

With a grin, Toma hugged you tightly and began to plant kisses all over your face, “Oh this is great! I’m so thrilled! I was worried you would never talk to me again! Ha ha!”

Chuckling while shaking your head, you gazed up at the male, “Now we're both going to be sick,”

“Yeah, but at least I’ll have you!” Toma said with a wide smile.

“Yeah, and I’ll have you too,”

#hells paradise x reader #jigokuraku x reader #aza toma #aza toma x reader #toma x reader #aza toma imagine #hells paradise imagines #jigokuraku imagines

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nightghoul381 · 7 months

Text

Clavis 3rd Anniversary Event

A Beast's Dream Realized by Beauty

Chapter 1

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Prince. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

In the Kingdom of Lelouch, ruled by Prince Clavis, in the corner of the country lies the only bookstore.

The bookshop, which was set up for me by the man himself after talking to the owner, continues to attract many people today.

However, due to the immigrants and the diverse population, many of the people cannot read.

In order to popularize books, it was first necessary to teach reading.

Boy: “… Someday, I want to learn to read and become a bureaucrat.”

One day, while teaching reading and writing to people gathered at the bookstore,

A young boy not yet old enough to read, spoke his dream with sparkling eyes.

Emma: “Wow, what a wonderful dream. Why do you want to be a bureaucrat?”

Boy: “It’s rewarding and well paid! Plus, I hear it’s really popular with girls.”

(Oh, it was a more sinister motive than I thought.)

Emma: “I see… Who did you ask, by the way?”

Boy: “Prince Clavis!”

???: “Haha, you’ve got potential don’t you?”

Emma: “…Gah!?”

A warm breath caresses my ear and makes me jump.

When I whipped around, there stood Prince Clavis, who was supposed to have left that morning.

Emma: “Please don’t surprise me like that! You almost made my heart stop.”

Clavis: “My God, that’s terrible! We must take care of it right away.”

Clavis: “Most fairytale princesses can be cured with a kiss, but—”

Emma: “No, thank you!”

Boy: “Why are you here Prince Clavis?”

Clavis: “Ah. Wherever my fiancée is, I will also be. Remember that.”

Clavis: “But there is quite a crowd.”

Prince Clavis knew that I was teaching the people in the bookstore how to read.

The rows of desks and the materials that everyone was using were all gifts from Prince Clavis.

(…You’re supporting me.)

His pouting lips didn’t last long.

Emma: “It’s all thanks to the great publicity you’ve given us, Prince Clavis.”

Emma: “Everyone seems to have something they want to do by learning to read.”

(It’s not just the boy who has a dream.)

By learning to read, there become more jobs to choose from.

Perhaps because so many people visit with that hope in their hearts, this place is full of dreams.

Boy: “I’ll definitely become a bureaucrat one day. Prince Clavis, hire me!”

Clavis: “Of course. If you become a man who’s funny enough to make me roar, I’ll have to consider it, won’t I?”

Clavis: “But if you’re satisfied with only one dream, then you’ve still got a long way to go.”

Boy: “What do you mean?”

Clavis: “The more dreams you have, the better.”

Clavis: “You only live once. It would be a waste if your only dream was “I want to be a bureaucrat.” wouldn’t it?”

(That’s one way of thinking.)

(It’s true that your not only allowed to have one dream, and it would be fun to have many.)

Emma: “Did you have any dreams, Prince Clavis?”

Clavis: “Oh, do you want to know? You want to know don’t you. Okay, I’ll tell you.”

(As usual the pressure is strong…)

Clavis: “As a child, I wanted to be the best gentleman on the continent. I also wanted to be an excellent butler.”

Clavis: “I wanted to set up a shot and sell what I liked, and I wanted to be a chef.”

Clavis: “Also, I wanted to be a doctor, and I aimed to become an unprecedented trapmaster.”

Boy: “…That’s too many.”

Clavis: “But I made it all happen in the end, didn’t I?”

Boy: “Really?”

Emma: “Yeah. Aside from the chef, the rest might be true…”

(He’s a tremendous gentleman, he organizes the servants, he runs the shop…)

(he’s as bright as a doctor in medicine, not to mention a trapmaster.)

He’s also become quite skilled at cooking these days, if only he focused on how it looked, his dreams would come true.

(It’s really amazing that you’ve been able to achieve these results while working behind the scenes.)

(…he’s cool, after all.)

Clavis: “What do you think? Isn’t it amazing? You’ve fallen in love with me all over again, haven’t you?”

Emma: “I’m in love, I’m in love, Prince Clavis is so cool.”

Clavis: “….”

Emma: “…I really respect you, you know?”

(I just can’t say it without making fun of it because I’m too embarrassed…)

As if running away from the questioning gaze, I turn my heated face away,

Clavis burst out laughing.

Clavis: “Well now, is it Miss Grumpy day today? My fiancée is as cute as ever.”

Boy: “Hey, how can I make so many dreams come true?”

Clavis: “Hahaha, that’s easy!”

Clavis laughed loudly and for some reason hugged my waist—

Clavis: “Do you want to know?”

Emma: “But first, move your hand!”

I tried to shake him off and run away, but I was no match for his strength.

Clavis: “If you won’t make eye contact with me, surely I can at least enjoy your body heat?”

Emma: “Not you can’t! Not in public—”

Boy: “Yeah, yeah I know you’re in love, so please tell me.”

(Hey, you look so unaffected…!)

I’m the only one who’s flustered,

The people gathered as an audience around us were reacting like “Here we go again.”

I was embarrassed to be the only one making a fuss, so I decided to obey and settle into his arms.

Clavis: “Look, take action now.”

Boy: “Right now?”

Clavis: “Mmhmm. From the moment you have a dream, think about what you need to do, and start doing it.”

Clavis: “I’ll do it tomorrow, I’ll do it when… The moment you think that, your dream will remain a dream.”

Clavis: “You don’t have to do anything spectacular. If you take action that leads to your dream, even if it’s trivial…”

Clavis: “It all adds up and naturally, your dreams will come true.”

(Clavis’s way of life is really cool.)

(…ah, I thought he was cool again.)

When I casually look up to see his expression…

Clavis: “…”

(Huh? Why does he look so sad…?)

Clavis’s expression clouded for just a moment, but was quicky replaced with a suspicious smile.

The other people didn’t seem to notice anything unusual, and the boy’s eyes lit up when he heard the story.

Boy: “Well I’ll start studying letters even more now. Miss Emma!”

Emma: “Ah… Yeah. Okay, looks like we’ll be hanging out a lot.”

Emma: “And look, Clavis is here to help too.”

Clavis: “Haha, temporary teacher? Fair enough.”

Clavis: “Emma will cover all of the tuition fees. Everyone, call me Professor Clavis.”

Boy: “Hooray!”

Clavis finally let me go and entered the applauding circle of people.

(I hope that was my imagination…)

That night—

Emma: “—So, this is how I cover the tuition fees?”

Clavis: “Ah, that’s right. My fiancée doesn’t take a bath with me very often.”

(I mean… Do all lovers in the world do this?)

(I feel like my heart is about to explode.)

Clavis, who sank into the bathtub in good spirits, embraces me from behind.

At first, I took refuge at the edge of the bathtub, but I half-heartedly accepted his invitation when I couldn’t stretch my legs.

Feeling restless and fidgety,

The fingers around my waist begin to trace the line of my breast.

Emma: “Ngh, watch where you’re touching!”

Clavis: “You don’t like it?”

Emma: “Don’t do that, it’s making me feel hot!”

Clavis: “Haha, that’s tough. But don’t worry, if you get hot, I’ll treat you well.”

Even though he was talking suggestively, he didn’t touch me any further, typical of Clavis’s gentlemanly behavior.

(…But, how that it’s quiet, it’s uncomfortable.)

(That’s it. Now’s the time to ask.)

Emma: “Clavis… Are you concerned about something?”

Clavis: “Are you concerned?”

Emma: “Earlier, during the day, I noticed that you looked sad for a moment…”

Clavis: “……”

Clavis: “Right, you’ll understand.”

Clavis took a long, drawn-out breath and tightened his grip on me.

Clavis: “I just remembered a lot of things.”

Clavis: “I’m a man who has made all my dreams come true—but there are still many dreams that haven’t come true.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince translation #ikepri translation #clavis lelouch #ikepri clavis #ikepri clavis lelouch #ikemen prince clavis #ikemen prince clavis lelouch

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snowviolettwhite · 2 months

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Several Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the lovelies @anewkindofme and @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

This is from my upcoming 9-1-1 early 2010s Alternative Universe Fan-Fiction.

It is going to be called "don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up" from the song Matilda by Harry Styles

Where Buck, Eddie, Shannon and baby Christopher runaway from home to California. Buck and Eddie join the fire academy and soon after the 118, Shannon is studying to be a therapist and they are all roommates barely, adults at eighteen years old and raising Chistopher and coming into adulthood together.

There will be bi Buck, demisexual Eddie and bi Shannon and yes I will being making them neurodivergent .

don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up

Made a mood-board too, look how cute teen Buck, Eddie and Shannon and baby Christopher are.

It is June of 2011. Public schools across the nation of The United States are all out for summer vacation from Hershey, Pennsylvania to El Paso, Texas.

Evan Buckley, Buck is the blonde, blue eyed rascal. He is always getting himself hurt and in trouble. He was on the football team and got straight As. He made a lot of friends but never got close enough to let his walls down. He is the baby of the family but the only person who ever pays attention to him is his big sister Madeline, Maddie Buckley. He does not know what he wants. He just wants to be happy and be loved and find his passion and stability.

Edmundo Diaz, Eddie is the young teen dad who got his best friend turned girlfriend pregnant. He is the middle child and is the only boy in his family. He was the sanest compared to his sisters which, pulled away the attention of the fact he struggled a lot in school. He excelled in other areas like sports and arts and a lot of hands-on things until this past year. He just wants to be left alone in peace with his best friend and baby boy.

“Edmundo, how could you let this happen? You and Shannon are still kids. You cannot even take care of yourselves. How are you supposed to take care of a baby?”

Shannon Macdonald is the young teen mom and upcoming psychology major freshman at University of California, Los Angeles. She wants to be therapist when she grows up and hang out with her best friend and baby and start a new life and make new friends and find new interest away from all this chaos and stress. She is the best friend of Eddie Diaz and mother of Christopher Diaz and in another state for college orientation. When she gets back to Texas, Eddie and she are going to try to talk like mature grown adults about what they are going to do without his insane overbearing family. She thought maybe she bring them with her. They can stay with her mom until they can afford a cheap apartment.

They say if you want to be treated like an adult act like an adult. How are supposed to act like an adult at eighteen years old, haven’t been out of high school even a month, being dragged home by the cops and being scolded at the front door or being at by your parents yelled in your childhood bedroom to the point of tears and clutching your clutching your worn-out stuffed animal dog or getting into screaming contest with two middle aged adults to the point your voice gives out and wanting your mom to make it better.

“You’re too soft! You need to grow up!”

Sometimes this makes you want to run away.

---

Inspired By This Photo:

Tagging But No Pressure:

@lochnesswriter @kingofdarkness00 @aroeddiediaz @lemonzestywrites

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that-angry-noldo · 1 year

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A fic where Finarfin meets Elrond and Elros during the War of Wrath!!

tumblr user thelordofgifs. grips your shoulders. this fic has been haunting me all day. whole day spent brainstorming and i still have no idea how do i want to proceed. gazes at you grimly (/lh)

"-and then he CHARGED AT IT WITH A SONG, ELROND! Elrond, I may have accidentally fallen in love with how absolutely unhinged he looked. Elrond-"

"You cannot fall in love with your great-granduncle," Elrond grunted, and pinched Elros, prompting him to sit still while he was quickly braiding his hair. "Besides, he's married."

"No- no, Elrond, you don't understand, it was absolute perfection. That Balrog didn't stand a chance."

"It stood a very good chance," Gil-Galad groaned from the other side of the tent. "Which it proved. Your great-granduncle didn't slay it. It was almost quite the opposite, really."

"Excuse you," Elros protested, "it pretty much was almost dead by the end of the fight! It fled, I saw it with my own eyes!"

"And your great-granduncle almost lost his life in the process!" Gil-Galad snapped. "Was it heroic? Yes. Was it idiotic? Absolutely! You don't charge at Balrogs, Elros, you find the quickest way to escape. For Ulmo's sake."

Elros rolled his eyes. "You're so boring, cousin. I bet you also think Fingolfin challenging Morgoth was dumb."

"Let's not talk about my opinions on Fingolfin. Elrond, you should visit the healing tents when you're done with your twin. They might need your help."

"Sure."

"I'll go with him!" Elros perked up. Elrond rolled his eyes.

"Of course," Gil-Galad sighed. "Whatever to get you out of my sight, you reckless child."

The tents were quiet. Sometimes someone would groan in pain or whisper a few hushed words of delirium; but all the serious cases were already taken care of, and Elrond couldn't help but feel relieved at that.

"Elrond!" someone cried quietly. It was a healer, one of the main ones. He quickly made his way to them. "I'm glad you're here."

"I wanted to offer my help."

"How good are you at playing harp?"

Elrond froze, taken aback by the question. Elros scoffed. Imagine if Maglor heard this. Do you think he'd take that as an insult to his parenting abilities?

"I am... alright at playing harp, I guess? I know how to play a song or two."

"Excellent. Follow me."

"It's about the King," the healer continued. "He's in stable condition, but he's weak, after that- stunt he pulled. He can't rest properly, any sleep is interrupted by nightmares. Music might help him."

"Alright," Elrond said. "I'll see what I can do."

This wasn't the first time Elrond saw Finarfin. He saw him leave for battles, or walk through camp; the King was always cool and collected, with strong voice, steady eyes, and an aura of security that radiated through him.

Well, Elrond was a healer. He knew what wounds do to the strongest of warriors.

The room was barely lit. There was a simple bed in the middle, and a man lying on it, half-lidded eyes wandering the ceiling. His body was covered in bandages, breath shallow; long golden hair was glowing with a weak unsteady light.

"Your Majesty," Elrond called quietly, and gestured Elros to get on the other side of the tent. "Can you hear me?"

The man's eyes opened, and his gaze fell on Elrond. It lingered there for a second. A faint smile painted the King's face.

"You must be one of Eärendil's boys. You look just like your parents."

Elrond smiled. "Yes, I am. I am Elrond, and over there is Elros. How do you feel?"

The King closed his eyes. Elrond waited until they opened again.

"Imagine if... you were whipped, and then slammed with a sledgehammer."

"Yes, I suppose that's what happened. Are you in pain?"

"A bit. Nothing- unusual," the King breathed, and then smiled again. "It's nice to - to finally meet you, Peredhil. I would- meet you before, but Ereinion-"

"You shouldn't talk, you Majesty."

"Finarfin. Or Arafinwë. Whatever you prefer."

"We've been calling you great-granduncle," Elros said, insecure. The King laughed, then winced and coughed. He lay back on the pillow, exhausted.

"Well. That works too, though I'm a- great-great granduncle, am I not?"

"Yes, but that's a mouthful."

"Ah. I guess you... have... a point."

"Quit talking, your Majesty," Elrond sighed again, tugging at the harpstrings experimentally. "You should rest. Try to sleep."

The King closed his eyes slowly. Elrond looked at his twin, and Elros nodded.

They Sang a lullaby - the one Maglor would sing to them during thunderstorms, or to chase away their nightmares. By the time they finished, the King was fast asleep, his face still pale, but his breath steady, and his body relaxed. Elrond nodded to his twin, and they quietly left the tent.

(worth noting that i already have a fic with similar idea! it's called "the king and the healer" :) finarfin and elrond discuss their problematic family)

#it actually turned out nice!! i'm glad #elrond #elros #finarfin #war of wrath #and before you ask no finarfin didn't willingly fight a balrog #he was cornered and had no other choice #thank yoi for the prompt!

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sovonight · 5 months

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i had a lot of opinions on xan's age in the mod to the point where i had a post in my drafts all written up about it, essentially just to say that xan should be younger. anyway this is that post

first off let me just put his canon portrait aside. seeing as how bg2 said "hey don't look at the old portraits, jaheira is blond and has slanted eyes now, and viconia is super hot," let's just disregard it as something that can and would probably have been retconned if xan had been brought back officially (especially since he was airbrushed in heroes of baldur's gate).

second off let's set aside all timeline considerations, because bioware doesn't care about timelines, and the video games certainly don't care about timelines, so i don't want to hear "but how could erevain reference xan's depressing attitude in iwd if xan was only in his fifties when erevain--" shhhh shh shh sh. it's okay. bioware forgot about elves when they stated that gorion's ward was 20 years old (and don't even get me started on the flimsy excuse that they're "physically adults" at 20, this is clearly a story meant for a protagonist who is emotionally considered a young adult for their race, elves are elf-20 when they leave candlekeep, thank you), the timeline issue is bigger than all of us.

now, to my point. in the bg2 mod xan's age is stated to be 263, but i disagree. here's why:

elf lore reasons (dnd loremasters avert your eyes):

according to a period-appropriate 2e text, 263 would put him in "old age". just... ruminate on that for a moment. does the bg2 mod remember that elves do still show physical signs of age? if he's 263, shouldn't xan be comfortably tucked away in a wizard tower by now? or like, just generally residing in the safety of his beloved evereska? i know forgotten realms is its own campaign world or whatever, but let’s just assume for a second that the cultural lore here can be directly translated over, because the book also says that not many elves choose to keep adventuring past adulthood. so what is xan doing still adventuring at the age of 263?

"but he's a greycloak!" putting aside how the "greycloaks" were invented solely for the video games so we know next to nothing about them, let's dig into that for a second. just because he's a greycloak doesn't mean he still has to be doing fieldwork. how is it that at 263, he hasn't already been offered some higher up position back at headquarters where he's the one coordinating who takes what missions where? it's not like he's bad at his job--both mods imply that he does well in his career. even if he's not one for management and really just excels in the field, the bg2 mod mentions that xan had a mentor in the greycloaks when he first started--so how is it that he's never mentored anyone else yet?

"sovo he's not good at his job he was literally captured by mulahey and held captive for a month" first of all how dare you, mulahey was a difficult fight with a full party and xan is just one sad little guy. second of all i kind of agree; rookie mistake to head in there completely alone. hmmm, wouldn't that invite you to place him closer to the beginning of his career...? one could even assume that this is his first big solo mission without his mentor...

xan himself

in the bg1 mod, his anecdotes are largely about his time as a student at the academy of magic & the death of his father as a child. to me, that says that he's still close to those periods in his life, and hasn't yet created many experiences beyond them. it's only in the bg2 mod, where his age of 263 is stated for the first time, that he starts telling anecdotes about past greycloak missions and lamenting about how old he is compared to charname.

confusingly, the bg2 mod also gives him a new voice that's rather young compared to his supposed age. yeah yeah i know it's a feat to get voice acting for a mod at all, and the perceived age of a voice is subjective, but it still strikes me as a weird choice that's at odds with the new narrative and dynamic that the mod is trying to push on xan and charname's relationship.

xan and charname's dynamic

in the bg1 mod, xan occasionally calls charname a child when he thinks she's being immature, naive, or optimistic (which is, to him, synonymous with naive). iirc, this is mainly in their earlier exchanges when they're getting to know each other, and charname says things that he thinks are ignorant or rub him the wrong way. this never stuck out to me because it's a usage that fits neatly into the fantasy setting, and it's not saying that he views her as a child. when he does comment on her age outright--like saying that she's surprisingly capable for someone so young--it points out that there's a gap in age between them, but it certainly never gave me the impression that it was on the scale of, like, 100+ years.

in bg1 the gap in life experience between them feels more balanced. xan has much more experience on the road, with adventuring and combat and loss, but he's clearly not... the most well-adjusted or well-rounded guy. he excels both academically and professionally, but his social ties are severely lacking for it--he's isolated, already an outcast before he ever even exiles himself. meanwhile, charname has been confined to candlekeep until adulthood, and so has very little real adventuring/combat experience, but (depending on your rp) has a much more generous view of the world than xan does, and has more long-lasting and close relationships with others (not just considering the game's companions, but the inhabitants of candlekeep).

i read xan's bg1 romance as, this is his first time being in love, ever. and he doesn't know what to do with himself, with these feelings that make his heart soar and sink and that comfort and frustrate him, to the point that his solution is to just up and leave the party. also, his justification for leaving is that he's afraid of what he's heard love will do to him--he's heard that in bonded couples, if one dies, the other will likely die of heartbreak. d'you see the picture i'm painting here?

meanwhile, in the bg2 mod, xan and charname's gap in life experience is newly defined and emphasized. a new array of conversation topics imply that xan was already past all of his firsts in life, including love. xan also now occasionally calls charname "silly girl" or "foolish girl" as some weird admonishment/term of endearment, which... i'm not a fan of, given the new emphasis on how he's so ~old and experienced~ and she's so ~young and innocent~. there's also a dialogue option i despise where charname can tell xan to focus on how young and beautiful she is to take his mind off things, and in another exchange there's an option that starts with an admonishment of "you're not my father," which given everything else that the mod has pushed forward, that comparison is kind of um, ew? charname and xan no longer feel like equal romantic partners to me in bg2, and when he calls her "foolish girl," i don't hear endearment--i hear a statement of perspective. to a 263 year old xan in bg2, she is just a girl, one year out from home.

the significance of 263

"but WHY is he 263," i hear you ask? well, it's simple. it's so simple that they literally stated it in the mod. you see, xan was apparently born in 1105 dr...the year of the guardian.

YES. YOU READ THAT RIGHT. the ONLY reason he's 263 is so that he could say he was born in the year of the guardian! you know, like how he's?? a guardian??? because of the moonblade?? OH, HOW CLEVER!

it’s just yet another way to tie everything about him back to the moonblade (which is funny, considering how he has such mixed feelings towards being a moonblade wielder, and how in the retcon happy ending, he's released from it, so, what's the point) and it’s kind of nonsensical too, because what, everyone who was born in that year turned out to be a guardian of some kind? surely not!

and in case you have any lingering doubts, you're pretty much told outright that the name was part of the reasoning because xan starts guessing charname's birth year.... based on her class. yes, he starts suggesting year names with "blade" or "shadow" in them if you're a thief class. and i thought he was supposed to be intelligent.

my fix

i prefer to think of xan as being 140, about halfway through the conventional adventuring age range of 110-174. this would put him as being born in 1228 dr, year of the tattered banners, which honestly, if you really want the name of the year to be tied to him in some way, "tattered banners" sounds worn and depressing enough to suit him. it’s a fitting age for him to be bleakly thinking that he’ll die before he ever reaches middle age bc the adventuring life will be the death of him, to still have his years as an academy student actively on his mind, and to act like he already knows everything about life without recognizing that he still has a lot to learn.

this may feel like a very simple and underwhelming answer for the journey we took to get here, and it is. really, though, i can't get over the year name reasoning. you know there's a "year of the trembling tree"? you know who also trembles? xa--

#i wasted so much time thinking about this but i genuinely have so much beef with his bg2 incarnation it's ridiculous

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