#independent adoption

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #27

When Dick's parent's fell, his first thought was, "This can't be happening." His second thought was, "What's going to happen to me and my brother now?"

The answer? His brother was older than him, much older. Old enough that he could stay with the circus. But Dick? Dick couldn't stay with Danny. He was too young.

So Bruce Wayne took him in, offered to take Danny in too. Dick begged his brother to join him, but Danny didn't. He smiled at Dick, ruffled his hair, and told him he'd be waiting at the circus for when Dick returned. Promised to send postcards and letters.

Then he was gone. And Dick never returned to the circus.

[farshootergotme]

Batman 'firing' Robin will never sit well with me because having the authority to fire someone implies they applied for a job, and a job includes payment.

So, Batman firing Robin is like saying he's paying Robin for doing his job. Except, is he paying? The simple answer would be no, but then the next logical option is assuming that the payment comes with everything he does for a Robin.

Since Batman provides the equipment he has the right to take it back and that's not the part that bothers me. What bothers me is that there's another crucial thing that Batman does for Robin: provide a home.

And while, yes, Batman's intention isn't to take away the safe space of Robin or to make him believe he's making him leave his house, intentions don't matter in miscommunication.

Firing Robin means not 'paying' him anymore. It means taking away what he's giving him because he isn't doing his job correctly.

For Robin, it means losing his home.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Parentalbond Cross

We are back on my BS and selfindulding drabble series, today we are finishing up how all the guys adopted Nightmare!

Last but not least, Cross :D

First Drabble (and original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Okay! No edits and no beta because we don't roll that way 😎😎

But more serious. slight content warning. Cross helps Nightmare bath, wash and clean his wounds and injuries. Poor baby can't take care of his own wounds that well and needs assistance from one of his four dads.

*----------------*

Cross isn't feeling good. Nothing is actually wrong with him but he is nervous.

Why is he even watching Nightmare today?!

It isn't that Cross... it isn't that he doesn't like...

Cross just doesn't feel sure about this.

He just doesn't have that instinct with childcare that the others seem to have. He tried! But he can't help but keep seeing Nightmare as an adult, or old adult? Ex adult?

Even when Dust and he spoke about it. How Dust just compared it with a natural change. Cross just... can't see him as a child.

He knows it is bad. Cross tries very hard to treat him as a child and do it right but Nightmare seems to notice Cross' nervous around it.

Which helps because if Ngihtmare needs anything he just asks Dust or Killer or Horror! Which works perfectly for Cross! How bad of a caretaker is he? That even the child notices that Cross can't handle it.

Cross checks the list again, the list beign something that Dust (and Killer) had put together. Cross would feel bad about needing a list but seeing as the last time he had to babysit he skipped a step or two he knows he deserves this.

Cross nods to himself. Breakfast and lunch were both done. Nightmare had his personal reading time. Nightmare had completed the few assignments Dust had put together for him. They had gone outside for fresh air and sunlight.

Now, the point he had been dreading. Bathtime.

Cross just doesn't get why Nightmare can't do it himself. But Cross had tried that last time only to get Dust to be furious at him, at the time it had also surprised and confused both of Killer and Horror much like Cross.

Since then Dust had refused to let Cross watch over Nightmare. A few days later Killer fully accepted his role as babysitter and caretaker. Which meant that Cross just didn't need to solo babysit Nightmare again.

Which had been fine! Perfect even!

But... well... You always have days were it just doen'st go according to plan. Which leaves Cross today to do all the duties.

Cross sighs and takes out the second list. It is a long list of rules for bathtime.

You need to follow all of these steps! And I mean all of them Cross. No skipping.

Cross rolls his eye lights and reads.

Step 1. Use WARM water. And I mean WARM! If you put your hand under the faucet it should be close to burning you.

Cross turns on the faucet and holds his hand under it to measure the warmth as he continues reading.

Step 2. Fill the bath as Nightmare gets ready himself. He doesn't need help undressed unless he specifically asks. And only then! >:( Tiny boss is specific about when he wants help!

Cross nods before snorting at the extra text. Seems like that Killer also got his hands on this list.

Step 3. Use the soap in the pink bottle and put enough in it to get a few bubbles to appear. NO! USE A LOT! MORE BUBBLES! >:3 No. I am serious. Just a bit is enough.

Cross finds the pink bottle in the small basket of bath stuff that Dust had left for him. Cross knows this because there was a note on it saying 'CROSS USE THESE.'. He can't help but ready the bottle and frowns. mild soap for sensitive skin with some antibacterial effects. Cross puts in a little at first and waits. No bubbles so he puts in a little more. a few tiny bubbles appear and Cross puts the bottle back in the basket.

Step 4. Just let the bath fill up until about the midheight. Safety reasons. Yeah we know we don't need air but Nightmare's magic is fragile and if he gets under water and panicks he may not be able to make his magic shape in the way to enable him to handle no air!

Cross hums and keeps an eye on the height fo the water. Turning it off at the right time.

Step 5. Just wait until Nightmare knocks on the door that he is ready. Once he is make sure you stand with your back to the door and bathtub. Nightmare can get in himself and if he needs help he will let you know. <- This.

Cross nods and just waits. He eyes the door and knocks on it, knowing the large master bedroom is behind it. "You okay Nightmare?"

Silence before a huff "I am fine." he sounds slightly out of breath. But Cross doesn't bother to point it out. He sits next to the bathtub and looks through the basket. A pink soap bar and Cross sniffs it. It smells like citrus, the same scent that the other soap had. Mmh. He grabs some of the brushes and feels them. Very soft and hardly any resistence. Weird choise as the harder and stiffer brushes work better with cleanign between bones. Cross spots some of those brushes in the basket as well and organises those as he waits.

A knock on the door "Cross? I am ready... Is the bath okay?"

Cross gets up and takes his list as he stands with his back to the door as ordered "It is ready!" he takes the list out in front of him again as he reads the next step.

Step 6. Whatever you do. Be normal. Please be normal. Don't freak out and remain calm. No sudden movements as you go near and announce your movement and what you do. Try to make some noise as you move! I have notices that that helps!

Cross feels nervous about that but waits. He hears Nightmare shuffle in and the door close behind him. No movement for a while before light steps move towards the water. Some splashes as Nightmare gets into the tub.

More silence before "okay. I am in... I can do this myself you know..." he sounds nervous.

Cross takes a deep breath and reads the text again before he turns, making sure his feet make noise as he moves around on the tiles. A familiar clicking of bones against it. Cross sighs "I know Nightmare. But last time they got annoyed I let you do it yourself and I don't want to risk that." he slowly gets closer.

Nightmare hums as he moves the water around with his hand "Fair enough."

Cross gets to the side and feels himself freeze. His back is a mess. Open wounds nad chips of bones missing. large cracks and bones barely holding together.

Cross gulps and finds his voice "I am going to sit down now, behind you..." fuck. fuck.. This is why Dust was furious. Because these need cleaning. fuck fuck fuck.

Ngihtmare hums that he heard him and keeps playing with the water.

Cross sits on his knees behind Ngihtmare and glances at the list.

Step 7. Once you are behind Nightmare you will start with his ribs. Use the shower body scrub thing for that. I always called it the poof. I am very sure that isn't the name Killer. Well what is the name? .... That is what i thought. Use the shower body scrub and some of the soap bar. Soap it up and move slowly rib by rib. It takes time. As you do this you need to pay close attention to Nightmare. If you reach his limit he will tense up. When this happens you need to pause and give him a moment. Use this time to just clean the scrub and reapply some new soap before continuing. Ha! You sure that isn't a new step? and what call it 7B? no thanks.

Cross glanes around and sees the shower wash thing that they must have meant and were talking about. Cross isn't even sure about the name for those sponge floof things himself. He nods and speaks "I am going to get the scrub ready. You okay? water okay?"

Ngihtmare hums and shrugs. The shrug causes Cross's attention to shift from the back and mess of ribs and the horrific view of the spine to the large bruises and sores all along the clavicle. Who would do this to a child? Why would they hurt a child this badly?! He is just a babybones!

Cross has the shower floof all nice and wet and soapy and moves slowly closer "I am going to start on your ribs now... okay?" A nod is his answer and Cross gets to work. He applies almost no pressure but Nightmare still shivers. Cross moves slowly to clean some of the ribs. He keeps a close eye to make sure nothing gets stuck on the broken and wounded bones.

They are silent as Cross works as Cross is hyperaware of Nightmare and his breathing. it is slow and even. One by one the ribs get cleaned and Cross makes sure to take two breaks to enable Ngihtmare to calm down.

Cross washes out the floof as Nightmare tries to relax, poking bubbles. Cross looks back at his list.

Step 8. Once you managed to finish washing his ribs he will need a moment. Give the scrub to him, soaped up, so he can wash his own legs and pelvis. As he washes this you need to wash his skull and neck with one of the washcloths. There are no wounds there but it is easier if you do it.

No extra comments form Killer this time. Cross does as told and gives Nightmare the shower floof and Nightmare gets to work on cleaning himself without even needing instructions. Clearly already part of the routine.

Cross still gets the right washcloth wet and soaped up as he speaks "I am going to wash your neck and skull in the meantime okay?" a small nod and Cross gets to work. His hands and fingers easily finding the curves and dips as he carefully cleans the babybones. Nightmare actively relaxes as Cross takes care to clean everything.

Cross leans back and grins "There. those are done." he looks at the list.

Step 9. Now the hardest part. the spine. Nightmare knows he needs this but won't like it. But he won't fight you on it. Again, he understands this is needed. So don't even bother to tell him it will be over quickly or not suck. He hates that. For the spine and the many tiny wounds nad the larger cracks you will need to soft soft brushes, you will quickly understand what i mean. It are the softest i could find and we keep them clean and disinfected. Still, one of the two will have the soap as always. the other is to apply disinfectent at the very end. Make sure one of those two stays dry.

Cross puts one of the two soft brushes to the side and grabs the other one. He starts getting it soaped up as the speaks "I am going to start on your spine now." Nightmare immediantly grows tense and hugs himself. floof forgotten in the water. Cross feels terrible "I am sorry. I will do my best to be careful okay? Just slow and steady?"

Ngihtmare hums and nods "okay..."

Cross has the brush ready and sits nearby "Okay. I am going to put one hand on your side to help keep you steady as i do this." Another nod and Cross helps support Nightmare as he nears the spine with the brush. "I am going to start cleaning the wounds now." a very soft brush but Nightmare still shudders and whimpers in pain.

He hates this. How fucking dare they hurt a child like this? To do this and hurt him this badly? And why?! because they are idiots to think he was bad?! That a child was evil??! That a babybones was evil?!

Cross is seething but his hands are steady as he cleans the wounds and deep slashes. No wonder that they need to do this for Nightmare. Ngihtmare is shaking in pain as he cleans the wounds. Nightmare would not have the ability to do this for himself.

Eventually he manages to clean the spine and Cross puts the brush away "there! All done with that!" Nightmare still sits shaking but leans a bit deeper into the water. calming himself.

Cross grabs his list and searches quickly.

Step 10. If you get to this spot you are almost done. We are in the home stretch! Now. Next is to give him a moment to relax. JUst let him sit in the water. In the meantime you can get the scrub soaped up again for the last step.

Step 11. next is the arms and shoulders. And while sensitive they won't hurt too badly in this. Just wash it off with the soaped up scrub once Ngihtmare sits up striaghter again.

Okay. easy enough. Cross starts preparing the floof as he keeps an eye on Nightmare. Nightmare sits back up after a while and mutters "okay... arms next?"

Cross nods as his soul fills wiht pride and... and... he isnt'sure what... instead he ignores it as he speaks "indeed." Nightmare hums but holds one of his arms out, still not looking at Cross. Cross cleans it efficiently but makes sure his touch is gentle. They switch arms and this one gets the same treatment.

Nightmare uses the water in the bath to get the soap off of him and Cross refers back to the list.

Step 11. This one and the next go together. After you got a towel, pick Nightmare out of the tub and just wrap him up. I like to fully burrito him, You know you did it right when he starts to purr.

Step 12. Use a soft towel to get off all the water. Just softly dab- LMAO! DAB! :D okay. My bad. Just softly tap the towel to the areas near the wounds instead of scrubbing it dry. It takes longer but hurts him less.

Cross searches the bathroom and finds some towels that meet his standard of softness. He takes it to Nightmare. Next he carefully picks Ngihtmare out of the tub, Nightmare still isn't looking at him and Cross can spot a small blush on his face. No doubt embarressed. Cross wraps Nightmare in the towel and hugs him close.

Affection. The other thing he had felt was affection and pride. Becuase Nightmare had been such a brave babybones and had been so well behaved. How could he not be proud?

Cross follows the instructions to the letter as he finishes drying Nightmare. He keeps him in the towel and reads the steps explaining how to desinfect the wounds and how to wrap those. pretty basic stuff. He grabs the other soft brush and explains to Nightmare what he is about to do.

It still stings as that is the nature of the desinfectent but Cross finishes up bathtime with wrapping the ribs and wounds all in soft bandages. In the end Cross puts on the hoody and holds their babybones close to him.

Nightmare, still purring softly as he leans against Cross, relaxes further and further and Cross nuzzles the tiny skull "There we go. you did amazing! We will just sit downa dn waits for the others okay?" a glance back at the bathroom but Cross leaves it be for now. He can clean up their tools and stuff when someone else is back to watch Nightmare.

Nightmare hums and snuggles clsoer to him under his chin and Cross starts to purr himself.

Maybe he does know how this whole parent thing works.

*----------------*

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[ryllen]

Please don't crucified me if this headcanon is deemed unrealistic in real life. (´；ω；`) More notes / detailed notes:

stayed & travelled with the Figs for awhile -- after being found, before finally dropped of to an institution, as the Figs think their travelling life style is not really suitable to raise a child

quickly picked up civilization as he is an intelligent child (that's why he is a ravenclaw)

exchanged letters with the travelling Figs during his time at the institution / orphanage

was a really helpful child during his time at the institution / orphanage that he is close with the staff

he thinks of befriending people is a way of learning & by helping them he gets to experience a lot of different things

a mellow temperament child in general (just like how it is ingame)

likes exploring (bcs damn! we really going places in that game)

picked the silly 'Alex Xander' name himself, maybe he heard a mother called her child with that name once and he is obsessed with that name ever since.

he always writes Xander as his 'family name' to show that he is complete even without a family

actually a bit older than his classmates, as he went through extra few years to catch up to civilization as a feral child

blank template [x]

#anyhow i really love our barn owl; she's so beautiful but with a face like biscuit

[mrsfeiix]

He scraped his knee

No he didn’t

[dykedvonte]

A Defense of Benny Gecko

Benny is more of a capable leader and person than people give him credit for.

Seeing as no one challenged his position as head Chairmen for 7 years and even then he only loses the position if he’s caught, killed or forced to leave. Yes, it’s also likely House wouldn’t have allowed him to be killed but he sure as hell would of found a way to remove him if he was causing too much unrest within The Tops power structure. Even Swank and Tommy don’t outright dislike him and more so are concerned with his recent secretive and shady behavior, emphasis on recent.

Taking all we know into consideration, Benny likely knew the future direction that he wanted to take Vegas but was so caught up in the plans to acquire Vegas that he didn’t think of how to make his dream a reality. Something he admits to in canon. I see this being used as the main argument that Benny doesn’t know what he’s doing at all but I see it more in the same vein as you can’t really plan something from nothing. The transformation of Vegas is a sensitive thing that he can’t really work on until he has it. The only reason he ran to the Fort prematurely is the Courier who was causing so much of a stir he would’ve likely been found out much faster, making all that planning for nothing if he didn’t take that chance.

Benny is careful (well a lot more careful than he is regularly depicted in fanon), the Courier being able to trace him was dumb luck on their part and his hair being noticed at the Fort is a realistically small oversight that even Caesar is disappointed in because he admits Benny got farther than he should’ve been allowed by his legionaries. The fact he can plan an ambush on the Courier or tries to quickly and concisely clean up lose ends that don’t lead back to him shows he’s not just acting on impulses or in the moment decisions. Or rather he’s quite good at thinking them out, whether they work depends on how you play really. This is all to say it’s 100% believable that Benny could lead an independent Vegas (house was basically setting him up to do that). If he had known explicitly that House was setting him up to replace him, he likely would’ve bought more time by getting in closer, learning more of the system to then flip House’s edge to his favor. Again something he was doing already but likely without the knowledge of House’s feelings on him personally.

No matter what, Vegas’ future was tied to Benny; House’s plans for him, having to get the chip and if he had somehow succeeded. It’s also interesting that of all the people vying for control of the dam/Vegas, Benny’s plans are the only ones actually oriented towards a new future, not a recreation of something long past.

[queerdiazs]

you know what. i find it weird as fuck that people always assume none of the women buck dates (specifically taylor but natalia too) will never want to have children with him. i think we need to sit on why we always always use women not wanting to have children with buck as an excuse to get them out of his life. i think we also need to sit on why we use women not wanting to have children as a way to villainize them.

[vampireposter]

regularly shocked by remembering wyll is 24. i'm 24. take this man Out of situations, his biggest worry ought to be whether his roommates are going to pay him back for pizza last night

[ashwolfforever]

Mauja’s dream of being a mother dies along with her stillborn first cubs. That same night, the heartbroken lioness stumbles – quite literally – upon an orphaned baby cheetah.

Two choices lay before her: End the cub’s misery. Or adopt him.

Unable to bear seeing the loss of young life again that night, Mauja does what would be unthinkable to her pride sisters. She takes the cheetah baby as her own son. Now, she must face new challenges. The pride will not accept her or her son. And worse yet, she finds out quickly that raising a cheetah in lion ways may spell doom for him when he grows up.

Mauja has one hope left. She must find a mysterious pride of lions called the Mahari. A pride who, the stories say, possess a special, powerful secret that may help her. Mauja knows her father was a Mahari lion. She bears the marks near her eyes – Mahari’s tears – to prove it. But are the stories about the Mahari actually true?

The path ahead for Mauja is uncertain. Finding the Mahari means she must leave her pride, her home, and everything she’s ever known. And what if the stories aren’t true?

What if the risk and dangers are too great?

Mauja, with her cheetah son Ṣìkẹ́mi, must choose to make that leap of faith. Will they land safely on the other side?

[number1villainstan]

star wars AU where like 6 months before the start of A New Hope vader finds out leia's his daughter

[wolfsbanesparks]

Do you think Sterling Morris ever considered adopting Billy?

That's a good question.

I think that Billy often tries to downplay his own situation to Mr. Morris a lot, sometimes by pretending to be his own dad, but that Mr. Morris still has his suspicions and tries to do a lot for Billy because of it. He takes him on little outings and trips so that he can have some childhood fun despite his very adult responsibilities. I also think that if he'd ever known for sure that Billy didn't have a family/anywhere to go, he would offer to take care of him (similar to how Uncle Dudley does in some continuities) but would respect Billy's decision to be independent if that's what he wanted. And that's what makes his relationship with Billy so special--the respect.

Thanks for the ask!

[eruverse]

Someday I will write 90s Amerus fic. That day isn’t now (biggest writing block rn), but someday. Many of the 90s fics in the English fandom are too incorrect in my opinion when it comes to historical contexts — and I know why, but it is 😄 grating

[novsart]

DO U LIKE RATS?? DO U WANT AN 8CM SQUARE RAT STICKER??? 🐭🐁🪤

i've decided to take these down (at least in this form) whenever i wake up on the 1st of September 2024, SO i reduced the price & set discount options if u want more than one sticker!!

(after that i'll be cutting these up & drawing on them & stuff & maybe putting a few of them back up but Different, if i like how any of them turn out)

it is a square sticker of a rat with one heart ear ❤️ doing a peace sign ✌️ with the words "RATS ARE CUTE."

[ikemenomegas]

Omega!Fukuzawa x Alpha!Reader

Maybe Every After

For the record Fukuzawa is a zaddy and I don't think anyone is going to argue with me on that. But he wasn't always a zaddy! You have to grow up a lot to earn the title and Fukuzawa had a lot of growing up to do even in his thirties.

Meet cute?-

Fukuzawa met the person who would become his Alpha at some stuffy local function he attended because of his status as one of the five greatest swordsmen.

While they hit it off well, commiserating over the oppressive self-congratulatory nature of these kinds of events, it was not love at first sight. Fukuzawa was able to carry on pleasant, engaging conversation with them

Fukuzawa was by turns a little awkward, eccentric, curious, and the sense of duty, justice and good judgment that characterizes his throughout his life permeated the conversation, leaving a lasting impression on you

Fukuzawa's work and his superiors are all top secret, but despite that, he does not try to make himself come off as an enigma and his intentions and ideology are largely transparent, which in the time of the Great War, the first ability war, and with Fukuzawa's position being what it was, was surprising and refreshing

You meet with him a few times as new friends in between whatever it is he does when he's not with you

Some time after those meetings begin would be around the time that he is ordered to begin assassinating war-hawk ministers

You see him change as those assassinations pile up and see him apparently lose the feeling of rightness that was in him when you first met at that party

He disappears soon after resigning his position in this mission, cutting himself off from the world that had descended into the misery and chaos of war, from the deaths he had caused, and from you, the person who had become important when he was still young and full of naive idealism

Meet again-

It's by chance you meet again when he is spending his work hours as a bodyguard.

Or maybe it's not chance. It's a certain circle of people that can afford the services of someone as skilled as Fukuzawa, as much as he tries to keep apart from those kinds of people. His reputation took a hit after he left his government position, although you don't know the circumstances around his departure, but people say it's because he isn't a patriot. The word makes you disappointed. The are parts of every war that are not about patriotism, where blood is no longer spilled for the love of one's country but because there are those who have lost their way.

Reconnecting is hard but maybe because you understand the rumors this way, it is not as hard as it might have been. Fukuzawa Yukichi is loyal, that you have known almost since you met him. He is loyal to the people who walk down the street and do not know him, he is loyal to all the people of the nation who make their way slowly through life alongside him, he is loyal to some ideal of justice that you don't necessarily understand but that you believe in too. You see sometimes the pain that the rumors cause him, but you believe in him, whatever that might mean, and so he lets the pain wash over him and away in the truth of his intact honor

It comes up at some point that you are still not a mated Alpha. There is no one else waiting for you as your tea times meeting with Fukuzawa continue. It just hadn't felt right, somehow, to try and make that kind of connection in the years that have passed. The great war turned everything upside down, including something inside of your good and most principled friend.

One day, he'll tell you about it, about what turned his heart inside out, but that is many years in the future

For now, you're the one who asks him if he wants to meet and restart first

He seems tired and you're surprised that he accepts, but he does. Once. And then twice. And then a third time. And it's almost like it used to be, even though you're both older and a bit more jaded, maybe with a few more hard edges. The meetings extend longer, and become more frequent. It is no longer tea on his days off or when he has time between jobs. There are late night meals after his employer dismisses him and lunches on the occasions he is released early. On one memorable occasion, you find yourself taking an early morning walk through a dew studded garden watching the sun rise pink and cold after a night on which you could not sleep

One thing led to another-

Eventually, Fukuzawa asks you to be his heat partner. It's a bit of a surprise and something that makes you nervous since Fukuzawa effectively ignored you for years.

You had once slept together in what was essentially a platonic way, or perhaps some kind of experiment. It was fine, oddly peaceful, especially at the end when you just passed a bottle of water back and forth, but you'd sort of wordlessly agreed to not do it again

He tells you he's sure though. His heats aren't frequent because he's on suppressants, but they do happen, and this is one of the different things. Fukuzawa seems to want, to have a restlessness that is more apparent to you, lingering beneath the surface

You already suspect it's the loss of purpose, the loss of public reputation somehow which had carried with it its own sense of purpose. He's a famous swordsman, one of the best in the country. Even a tame wolf desires to hunt.

So you spend his breakthrough heats together.

And you remember why the two of you never had sex after the first time. It makes you wonder if you remember the "silent agreement" wrong, or if he remembers it differently, and reminds you why you didn't dwell on it.

It's not earth shattering, the sex that is. It's just heat sex, just making sure he gets off so that he can sleep through the intervals between his body temperature spiking. Except you're in his home, the gauzy curtains drawn, scent patches off, and it's disturbing how clear the memory of the last time overlaps with this one, even after so many years.

It's like being in the middle of a monsoon storm, pressure and torn leaves, and summer heat and all. And while you thrust into his wanting body, he watches you. The heat-haze is obvious and his eyes are half-lidded in the associated exhaustion, but he tracks you when you lean back to swipe the back of your hand over your forehead and there's something hungry in his gaze when he looks down to where you're connected

You remember the first time and how intrigued you'd been by this particular mannerism of his, how he keeps his eyes open. He had been watchful and curious even as you'd laughed with him over your shared fumblings. His gaze had been heavy and consuming when he'd shown his aikido skills, at your request, and tumbled you from over him to pin you to the floor.

This time there's a lot more kissing because if you're close to his face, you don't have to see his eyes, but the way Fukuzawa opens his mouth for you with trust like you've been doing this for years makes the strategy nearly futile.

You have to work right after that first heat tapers off so he's still in his nest when you're putting on your shoes, weekend duffel in your hands.

It's late afternoon going on evening so the apartment is dark. His hair is splayed out on a pillow. You're satisfied though that he has pre-made meals in the fridge and you've changed out most of his nest bedding so he can rest in a clean spot after you've gone. Fukuzawa's not saying anything, watching while you rub a sore spot on your neck, which makes him smirk. You're convinced this will be another scenario just like last time where you don't talk about it, when he speaks up, stopping your hand on the doorknob. "Same in three months?" he asked instead. Despite the stab of apprehension, you smiled. "Same in three months," and left to catch a flight.

You don't let it get quite that long before you contact him again. You don't see him, but you text him and he texts back, which is at least a relief that he's not going to vanish again into whatever new twilight he inhabits.

It's the same in three months, apart from the weather outside. His eyes, blue like steel and watching you while you bring him over the edge, the sense of being in the eye of a summer storm, that feeling of trusting familiarity when you lick into his mouth and catch the sound he makes when you crook your fingers inside him. It's the same how it's only his response that changes when you kiss him later and are more gentle about it, running your teeth against his jaw before going to cradling his head and kissing the corner of his mouth.

There's laundry in the machine and porridge on the stove. Fukuzawa's heat had settled sometime in the very early hours of the morning and the two of you were more or less clothed for the first time in days. Fukuzawa was however leaning in the door, watching you put shredded seaweed, pickled plums, and katsuo tronçons on small plates already laid out on a tray. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, watching him almost lazily watch you. But, you paused in using a pair of chopsticks to pluck out a single ginko nut from a narrow jar. There was something almost tense in his posture. He was barely out of the thick of heat and you could see the faint tremble in his wrist before he folded his arms to hide it. You checked the pot with the still yet-to-boil rice and then ducked under his jaw to brush your nose against the scent gland there. The way he shivered, still sensitive, was almost enough to make you feel bad. "You should go lie down," you murmured, smiling in apology, "I'll bring the tray over." He hesitated, but then nodded. Something pulled at you behind your navel, similar to that familiar sensation when you had worked him through the heat. Only this time, out of the haze, you followed it and followed Fukuzawa to his nest. Its fresh linens were soft and sweet smelling as you guided him into it. He sighed when he was lying down again, a long exhale that gave nothing away. He was just watching. You tucked a blanket over his hips and let your hand linger a touch too long, feeling like you were falling into his eyes. He made no sound when you pulled away and did not return until the meal was ready. Although you did stand in the doorway he had just vacated, leaning so you could see Fukuzawa, loosely tied deep blue and light grey layers of his yukata falling half open as he rolled over to keep you within line of sight. He ate every bite of food, still maintaining that tense, anticipatory silence. You didn't remember this from the first time. His gaze only flickered from the tray and your hands to your eyes when you accidentally let out an encouraging rumble as he ate and immediately felt heat flash up your neck, mortified. The corner of his mouth twitched as he brought his chopsticks to his lips and nibbled at a bit of fish. You've read romance books, once or twice, seen the pervasive tropes pop up in just about every drama, imported or otherwise. People talk about finding someone that you feel you've known your whole life as something magical. No one talks about how unsettling it can be, how it could get all consuming all too quickly. It's disturbing in some way, the way you can sense the ease with which that could push into entitlement, envy, or just an endless fall. That is why after the first time you and Fukuzawa Yukichi had slept together, passing a bottle of water back and forth after and watching the rim indent into one another's lips when you took a mouthful, throats flexing to swallow, you had never spoken of the event again. You had never invited it happening again, and up until now neither had he. There's something at the bottom of that drop. There's always a hard landing. Somewhere. It felt too easy, being with him. You had fallen in as friends harder than this, feeling out the edges of one anothers' code and ethics, where you could push boundaries into asking about personal and professional interests. Although you never touch them, you knew where one anothers' cracks were.

Just as you never asked him directly about the things he had done in the war, about his suddenly cold reception among the circle you'd met in, he never asked you how you really felt about those people. He never asked if your heart too had broken somewhere during the Great Ability War. The stifling feeling of knowing both too much and too little about someone who trusted you far too much for what you knew suddenly stole all the moisture from your throat. A sip of tea helped, but Fukuzawa's posture had gone back to that waiting. Master swordsman: master at reading any opponent. You told yourself heavily that you were perfectly willing to continue being his heat partner, at least until the way you two distinctly did not push boundaries bored him. He had a competitive spirit to a point. There were goalposts that only he could see, standards to which others were not often held. Stagnancy had never quite suited him. Stillness did. Was that what was at the bottom? Was it the stagnant life of saying nothing and doing nothing and keeping a status quo? Or was it blissful stillness, knowing nothing would catch you and nothing needed to?

It takes almost a year for either of you to bring it up and it's only at the cusp of realizing this is becoming an unhealthy new normal that it happens. It is still incredibly difficult to broach the fact that the physical intimacy makes you feel like strangers but every conversation in between makes you feel like you could get to know him forever.

It's around this time you finally start to really talk. You know how you can know someone for ages, and even be really close to them, but there are long stretches of time where you don't talk about anything important because you're afraid of making the other person do emotional labor for you, and you don't know if they'll mind? That's the first year Fukuzawa and his Alpha have after he comes back.

He acknowledges that you've done things rather in reverse order, as far as the typical trajectory of reconnecting with friends goes. You start to date, more or less, making time to see one another every week or every other week as your schedules allow.

It's a bit strange, to suddenly realize the ways in which you both have changed. Fukuzawa is as principled as ever, but he's unmoored now, without the ties he severed to the military police and the mission it brought. You are somewhat more stable, older and more settled into your own career, but heavier in your soul, sadder. Yokohama is reviving, black towers and tidy apartment buildings rising on the horizon, but it took too much to get here, too much blood before the nation sickened of it.

Fukuzawa won't let you court him.

You're in one of the old cafes that survived all the conscriptions. The owner's son moves around with a tray and a flour dusted apron and the atmosphere is oddly cheerful, despite the recently terrible weather. The last of the summer storms are making a good showing this year and it's limited the places you and Fukuzawa can go. Museums, restaurants, the occasional wander around a particularly well constructed public part of an office building - usually places near your work or his.

You'd tried other things, shopping for food or clothes and paying maybe too much attention to his preferences. You'd tried things like flower viewing or afternoons trying wagashi in specialty shops. While Fukuzawa had seemed to enjoy them and settled easily into the traditional etiquette sometimes called for in these places, he never acknowledged that these might be early attempts at courting.

When you spent time in his apartment he let you scent items in his nest while lounging around or before his heats. If he was at the little rooftop house you were living in, he would sometimes choose one pillow or blanket to curl around and carefully leave it on your spot on the couch when he left.

You looked at him over the rim of your mug and one of his brows went up. When you said nothing, he looked away, tracking the movements of people on the street.

You still partner him when his heat hits, but the sex is worse, as far as that unsettlingly settled intimacy goes. It's wonderful, he's wonderful. Sex itself is not that interesting as a rule, and you're both too aware of the delicacy of the situation to attempt anything like adding toys during his heat or a simple scene to the build up or cool down. But every time after, you want to stay longer.

Fukuzawa shifts his nest, ever so slightly because he is picky about it, but enough so that he can always see you as you move about his home when you need to get food or nesting materials for him, so that you don't have to anxiously flit between the stove and the door in order to sate the need to know that he is safe and comfortable in the aftermath.

You think it's going to end, that the pained distance Fukuzawa now puts between himself and the world is going to pull taught against the growing need to be around one another, to care beyond the dedication of a close intimate friendship.

Everyone can see it-

And then he accidentally adopts a super genius.

This is one of the funnier things that's ever happened to your friend since you've known him and you make sure he knows you think so once or twice.

Once Ranpo is secure in his place as Fukuzawa's ward a few years later, you come up with a way to let Ranpo know he's the best thing to ever happen to your mate and also that you will never ever get tired of imagining the look of shock you know took over Fukuzawa's face when all four and a half feet of teenage whoop-ass came banging through the door of that office.

But that's years from now.

Ranpo peers up at you when you meet Fukuzawa for lunch and a film a week after he's started tagging along with your friend

The boy isn't very tall, but he's got a maturity to his features that you chalk up to either the orphan thing or the child genius thing. He had taken one look at you, seated at the back of the restaurant away from the windows, and it felt like someone crowding into your space even while he touched neither you nor Fukuzawa. You are perhaps overly sensitive of other people's attention. It's another thing that makes being with Fukuzawa comfortable somehow. He's observant, but not oppressive with what he does with that information. Only the second time you'd met he'd helped extricate you from an incredibly uncomfortable conversation with a junior minister in the local commerce department. Now the kid looks at you and at Fukuzawa and pouts impressively. "You're single." He says it like an accusation and an assignment and you could almost laugh at Fukuzawa's wide eyed expression if it weren't for everyone three tables deep around you staring. You raise an eyebrow at him. "He's allowed to be single," you chide, reminding yourself that you are talking to a child still. It's a bit funny, you admit, smiling when the boy glares at you. The waitress comes over when you beckon, bringing tea for Fukuzawa and a sweet layered sort of beverage for the kid. Fukuzawa had told you about the boy's obvious sweet tooth and even though he huffs at you, he takes the tall glass eagerly, poking a straw through the layers. "Does it bother you?" You can't help it. Fukuzawa had said the child was a genius, observant to the point of misunderstanding, his incredible intelligence looping in on itself and making the rest of the world occasionally incomprehensible. It seems unlikely for a child to hold the kind of incredibly conservative prejudice that says omegas should be mated, but he seems put out. Ranpo sulks behind a menu before saying, "I'm never wrong." The meal is quiet, and gradually people stop looking at your table. Fukuzawa excuses himself on the walk to the theater to purchase something from a convenience store. It's there you lean up against the mouth of an alley and look down at the kid. He's really short, you worry someone isn't feeding him enough and the realize that Fukuzawa is going to be that someone. "We're not together," you said. Ranpo looks up at you, clearly still sulking. "You don't have to lie to me," he says, but he sounds a little uncertain. "We're not together in the way you would understand it," you say, "or the way most people understand." Ranpo sees your emotions in your eyes, and suddenly wishes he didn't understand. Your gaze is filled with longing, but he doesn't know how you can't see it's for something you already have. Almost. "He's ashamed of something," Ranpo says quietly. You hunched over a little. "I know. Adults are often ashamed of a lot of things though." He looks at you and wonders what you're ashamed of. "You should probably ask him about this one. He's not very good at saying what he means, but most adults aren't." You're laughing when Fukuzawa reappears.

To everyone's surprise, he actually sits through the movie, happily demolishing the little fortune you'd bought him in caramel popcorn and boxed candies, even if he complains about figuring out the plot five minutes in when you leave

Ranpo doesn't parent trap you two exactly, he doesn't have quite that level of interest in involving himself, but Fukuzawa is good to him, and he sees you often and you are good to him too. Neither of you always understand what he understands, but you show him kindness without ulterior motive, you try and show him how to safely exist around other people.

Fukuzawa is asked to be a bodyguard for Mori Ougai and something about engaging with that man, even though he can't tell you about the job itself, makes him tell you, in a desperate whisper under the moonlight, that it was him who assassinated the war hawk ministers during the peace debates. It's him who is bloodying his blade for something he hopes will be better, even if it turns his stomach, even if it means he doesn't know who he is anymore.

"I know who you are." Fukuzawa tenses in your arms, and you think frantically that you have certainly made a mistake. But you don't take it back. You don't want to. You do know who he is, your friend. You know how lonely what he's done has made him. Only you didn't know what he had done. Now that you know, it doesn't seem to matter. It's distant, the way all bloody things are distant when you don't see them. You've never had all that fond a feeling towards the wealthy people that profit from the abject misery of others. All the hunger and desperation in the world are distant, abstract concepts to them. Why should their deaths not mean the same to you? Of course, you can't say this to your friend, your sometimes lover, lying in your arms. The moonlight drops over his cheeks, turning them pale. His eyes are closed for once, his face turned into your neck, as though he is afraid of what he will see in your eyes. You understand it was not simply one or two storybook villains. There is no human in the world who has done only bad their entire life. Fukuzawa was not prone to exaggeration, even if drama appealed to him. It seems likely he meant it literally when he speaks of wading through blood to put an end to those who whipped up the populace into a frenzy, who wanted for the death never to end. "I know." You stroke your thumb near the corner of his eye, brushing your cheek to his brow, pressing a chaste kiss to the curve of his cheek. "Honor doesn't always mean doing the honorable thing," you say softly. "It means making difficult choices. You regret having to make it, but do you regret the outcome?" He is quiet for a long time. You know he hasn't fallen back asleep, despite the languid warmth between your bodies. He's quiet for long enough that your heart rate returns to normal and you rub your knuckles up and down his back. An occasional burst of deep, faint purring lets you know this is at least appreciated, if not necessarily something he thinks he deserves. You've taken to sleeping together at this point. The mounting danger as different organizations wage new war across the city drives you both to it. Besides, it is simply easier to manage an antsy teenager if you're in the same place, wherever that might be, rather than passing him back and forth like the result of some amicable divorce as you both work to keep him safe and out of the hands of those who would use his intelligence. "No," he says, as you knew he would. "There is nothing to be attained in the way of peace by letting war simply continue until each side is beaten into exhaustion. Withdrawing with our strength intact is the only thing that would save the nation and its people." He says it like he's said it to himself many times. He goes nearly limp in your embrace, pliant as he nudges against you until your forehead is pressed to his. You wonder though- "Is this the first time you've said it out loud?" "What I did is a secret few are aware of." "But the investigations..." "They won't find me," he said, but you felt a shiver go through him, felt gooseflesh rise on his arms. If they did, it could open the possibility for those people to be made martyrs. It was natural for him to be afraid. "They won't," you said lightly. You didn't know what you could do to make that true, but some things needed to be said aloud. "If they catch me, I'll face whatever is decided," he said quietly. "But I won't get caught." "You saved a lot of lives." He sighed. "I know." You rubbed slow circles over the middle of his back. "The sword isn't meant to be used like that. They had lives, families, I-" he swallowed "-I ended that. I enjoyed it. And I have to live with that." His eyelashes too were silvered in the moonlight. "You have to live with it," you agreed, even as he flinched, "but you don't have to punish yourself for it every time you live." You pretend not to feel the wetness on your clothing as Fukuzawa shudders into your collar.

Forever love-

You're truly together and officially courting by the time the Agency is three years old, which is the first more calm year since the Agency opened. Turns out opening a business is a huge pain in the behind and that an ability user Agency with less than half a dozen workers, two of whom are genius teenagers who have totally reasonable problems with authority, is an even bigger pain.

By the time the Agency is four years old, you're mated to Fukuzawa, your mark on his shoulder and his on yours. Ranpo grouches something terrible that the two of you could only get your shit together before he turned eighteen, but he's not a legal adult yet, so you get to officially be one of his guardians for at least a few years. Yosano thinks Ranpo is being ridiculous, but she gives you the biggest bouquet of flowers for your and Fukuzawa's home and insists on choosing the restaurant where you all celebrate.

It's been a very long road. You've known Fukuzawa Yukichi for almost thirteen years, an unexpected friend you made in your adult years now your mate. Now someone who you feel, finally, you've started to earn the feeling you've know them all your life, even though you're still learning about him.

He takes you to his home near Osaka, to his family home on Kyushu. He meets your parents, who consider him a bit quiet, but very dutiful. You meet Natsume-sensei, once, and receive his very feline brand of approval and a quiet gift after your official mating. Fukuzawa takes you back to places he particularly enjoyed during those failed months of courting him. You spend season after season getting to know him, pushing boundaries, debating over philosophies, arguing over interior decorating, agreeing over meals.

Your mate, your partner, a soulmate if you have ever believed such a thing, let alone that it would come to you. You're watching white strands of hair like starlight shoot through his natural grey. The wrinkles around his eyes are deepening. It takes him longer to get up from bed than it used to. His silences are longer, but so are the times when he just looks at you, looks and looks like he can never get his fill. His voice is still strong, but you can feel that layer of age crackling under it. And you love him.

You love the man he has grown into, the one who can bear the weight of hard choices placed upon his shoulders, the one who can bear happily having people who work alongside him. You love his patience with Ranpo and his encouragement of Akiko. You love how he holds his hand out for you if you fall behind on your walks, or how he comes to you and stands close enough for his scent to wrap around you while you point out some small natural beauty.

Love can be horribly consuming, it can stagnate where it was once immediately comfortable or grow jealous at its own ease, unsure if it is charm or affection that ties you together. It can grow desperate and possessive. There are still things that can be so hard to say, old things that left old wounds that are still hard to talk about, but there's something to be said for age and wisdom.

Things aren't perfect, love should not be perfect, and something in you delights in knowing that with Fukuzawa it will always be incomplete. Things will not grow still, there will never be a moment there is nothing to know about him. You have grown into yourselves, the both of you, and this is the love you will grow old with.

[torgawl]

i keep thinking about how “is this what justice means to you, answer me neuvillette”, despite having been used in a case all those hundred of years ago, was probably a question that haunted - and still haunts - neuvilette during the entire time he has been chief of justice. i keep thinking about how they highlighted his struggles through time with both carole and wriothesley's trials. how guilty and powerless neuvillette must have felt for not being able to support and save those he recognised as vulnerable and victims before a system that corrupted their fates but that he wasn't able to change despite his position. the theme of being a casualty of a system no matter if you're the victim or the perpetrator in its eyes. the way neuvillette took, in both cases, things into his own hands. even if it was too late to fix the hurting carole and those who cared for her went through, even if it was too late to save her life; even if it was impossible to change wriothesley's past, his verdict and subsequent imprisonment; neuvillette went above and beyond, making use of his influence, to allow both melusines and wriothesley the opportunity of a better future - to melusines by making sure they weren't discriminated, to wriothesley by supporting his attempt at a second chance in life. i think part of the reason he's so intriguing is our awareness that this internal conflict he's bound to have is so complex. you have a chief of justice, or a judge, that is supposed to be imparcial and follow the law stictly confronted with situations of social injustice, unable to protect those who rely on him. you have someone who understands better than anyone what it means to be an outcast, being able to relate to those who are ostracised and have their pain weaponise against them. you have, in vautrin's case, a friend who cannot even showcase his own pain and is still expected to fullfil his juridical duties despite being personally related with those involved in the case. someone who people constantly turn to but whom he feels like he has no right to turn to himself. it's about the conflict between his feelings and his duty, between what's expected of him and what he can actually do. i think that's why the end of his story quest is so emotional and why it's so heartwarming to have him realise he isn't an outcast anymore, that he has a community there for him too. because a system is a system and he will probably never be able to save everyone, because yes he isn't human, but it doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to belong or that an active demonstration of love towards individuals and people he can relate to rather than the theoretical concept of humanity isn't meaningful. in fact, i'd it's a lot about that, about finding ways to be kind and how community gives meaning to life; how personal relationships and targeted kindness can shape society, or at least i think so

[fauvester]

I just discovered your Garashir adoption AU and I ADORE IT!!! i am literally in love with the ideas and your art style and omg sjsnsjksjsnsjsns ✨💖🥰🥺❤️‍🔥

Anyway my important questions are these: Can you tell me how old the children are? And pls tell me that they whole family has like a gigantic bed on which they can all cuddle together?!

That's it, thank you for your time and the amazing contribution you have made to this fandom, it's utterly beautiful <3 Hope u have a good day!

AWWWGHHH THANK YOU!!! I'M SO GLAD PEOPLE ARE ENJOYING THIS SANDBOX WITH ME!

This was as good an opportunity as any to sit down and sort of get a babby timeline together..

(yea med student handwriting lol)

which would put everyone (at one discrete snapshot in time) at I think -

Jocasta is older than Iskra! but came in to the family later. and is much less.... much. So it's easy to forget that.

As to big nestbed.. when he's younger Idan crawls into Julian and Garak's bed every once in a while because dadek is a sentient warm water bottle, but all his siblings swat him afterward and tell him that it's disrespectful to violate your honored parents' space like that. Nesting is for siblings! A Cardassian social space where you can literally let your hair down and share warmth.

Unfortunately for Young Elim that means that everyone's rowdy and wiggly in the evenings when he'd rather be sleeping, but that's the tradeoff for getting to use the shared comfy bed instead of the one in the attic where he'd have to sleep otherwise.