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autistpride · 4 months

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Regulus hadn't even wanted to attend the party. It was the end of year celebration held annually for the seventh year students. The staff liked to pretend that they had no idea the sixth and seventh year students were slipping out into the grounds to drink, dance, and sometimes have sex under the last full moon before summer holidays. They looked the other way and ignored as the sixth years gathered whatever they could from the feast and secreted it into waiting bags. They turned a blind eye to the seventh years slipping out into Hogsmeade and returning with sweets, fireworks, and alcohol. Completely neglectful on the staff's part and absolutely ridiculous, he thought as his friends strong armed him out of the dorm and onto the grounds.

He had better things to be worried about. He had an entire summer of coming out balls and various luncheons and teas that he would be required to attend, ending with his betrothal to some chit for the future of the great and noble house of Black, Regulus reminded himself with an eyeroll. His parents didn’t care that he was gay just like his brother who had been blasted off the family tree the year prior. They just cared that he married and fucked some girl to make an heir and then he was free to have his “dalliance's” as long as he was discreet.

The same concession would be offered to his betrothal, despite his parents disapproval of it. But Regulus refused to saddle some poor girl in a loveless and sexless marriage without any option to seek that in someone as long as she kept it quiet and didn't bring any children from them into their home. And Regulus had his service to the Dark Lord to complete for the betterment of the wizarding world, or so he was told. He didn't actually believe that either, but he had seen what had happened to Sirius when he disagreed. Thus Regulus bowed and bared his arm like the good little puppet he was.

Regulus had given up his arguments and had decided if he had to be there, he was going to get plastered. The group was tastefully late; arriving after the fire had been lit, the booze had already been poured, and the music started. Those not dancing or sneaking off into the shadows were settled onto the lawn with food and a mixture of liquors. The bonfire blazed in the centre, casting a luminous golden hue in the radius of the crowd. Barty pressed a bottle into Regulus’ hands and he swallowed the burning liquid down as fast as he could. Barty howled with laughter and handed him his own drink before dragging Evan off. Likely to skip the preamble and go snog in a secluded spot, Regulus determined.

The more Regulus drank, the more maudlin he became. At some point even Pandora had disappeared into the crowd and left him with his thoughts. Regulus knew he was going to die. The darkness that was quickly consuming him and a small hopeful part of him thought that nothing could save him from hell, except maybe love and Regulus was too realistic to think that was an option for him.

The music switched to something he’d never heard before. The guitar and the drums worked together to create a fast paced rhythm. Cheering sounded as the space by the fire emptied of people, save for one person, James Potter.

The music filled the air as James started to dance, his hips moving and arms flowing around his body and over his head. Regulus’ breath caught in his throat as he watched. Regulus had never been a religious person, but if anyone could save him from the devil inside himself, it would be James. James danced with a passion, like a fire consumed him and his entire soul was dancing along. The crowd started to keep time with their hands, clapping and patting their legs as James spun in circles and the firelight glowing behind him.

Regulus has no idea how he got there, but somehow he was on the edge of the circle surrounding the empty space James was dancing in. It seemed every soul in the area was singing along to the song that he had never heard before and all Regulus could see was James, sensually moving with the moon in his eyes. James didn’t dance like an angel, oh no. James was not from Heaven, James was a siren and the way his body moved was his song. A call to his soul, pulling at him until he found himself in front of the devil himself.

James laughed and his teeth captured his bottom lip in a teasing manner, before he reached out and pulled Regulus close. There was no room left to move in between them and Regulus’ body began to sing in the same way James’ was. They sang to the fire, the wind, the moon, and to each other as they danced. One song turned into many and Regulus forgot where and when he was as his soul reached out tentatively to James’.

Something clicked in Regulus, like the missing piece of a puzzle slotting into place, and Regulus could swear the darkness was ripped from his soul as they danced into the night.

#mauraders #fanfiction #james x regulus #jegulus #latino james potter #james potter #regulus black #890 words #first lines of 2024 #mauraders fanfiction #sunseeker #starchaser #regulus x james

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bioocs · 1 year

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Character name: Blake

About:

AGE: Age when cursed: 36

BIRTH DATE: 1831/May/23.

GENDER: Male.

HEIGHT : 5'10"

World History

Character biography:

BLAKE WAS BORN AS A NORMAL HUMAN LIKE MOST, HE LIVED A RELATIVELY NORMAL LIFE IN THE WILD WEST; HIS FATHER, ALTHOUGH A CRIMINAL, FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS MOTHER, ENDED UP LEAVING THE CRIME WORLD, AND SETTLE IN WITH A FAMILY. HE WAS BORN NOT KNOWING THAT HIS FATHER HAD A LOT OF ENEMIES. AS TIME PASSED BY, HAVING TO LIVE HIS LIFE, MARRIED, AND HAD CHILDREN, AND THE TIME CAME WHERE CONFRONTED WITH HIS FATHER’S ENEMY. A STRANGE BOX LEFT BY HIS FATHER, HIS FATHER TOLD HIM IT WAS TO BE KEPT AS A SECRET AND HIDDEN FROM ANYONE WHO TRIES TO OPEN IT. THE BOX ITSELF SEALS AN EVIL WITCH, SHE WAS SEALED BY A GROUP OF HUNTERS, AND THE BOX ITSELF WAS GUARDED, BUT THE OWNER DIED WHEN HIS FATHER RAIDED THEIR HOME. STEALING THE BOX WITH HIM ONLY TO FIND OUT LATER WHAT WAS REALLY INSIDE. ANYONE WHO DARES TO OPEN IT WOULD UNSEAL THE EVIL LURK WITHIN. ONE NIGHT IT WAS ACCIDENTALLY OPENED BY HIS CHILDREN, NOT KNOWING WHAT IT WAS AS HE WAS QUIET TO SPEAK. BLAKE PAID A HIGH PRICE FOR THE MISTAKE. THE HOUSE BURNED WITH BLACK FIRE, KILLING BOTH HIS CHILDREN AND WIFE.

BLAKE WAS TURNED INTO AN IMMORTAL, THE WITCH CURSED HIM TO WALK THE EARTH FOREVER AND MAKE SURE HE WOULD WATCH HIS FAMILY DIE. HE WAS ALSO CURSED TO CHANGE INTO A SKELETON AT THE NIGHT ONLY WHILE STAYING A HUMAN DURING THE DAY.

Blake’s family was poor ever since he was born, despite his father being a very famously known outlaw. His father wasn’t there and had to leave his family, due to his namesake. Not wanting to cause harm to his family. Although, despite it all, they still caught on. Now having to deal with dangerous people, and having nowhere to run, sadly blake’s mother died due to tuberculosis. Blake alone had to basically slave his lives away. blake was 10 at the time.

It was hard, gruesome and they didn’t treat him as human. Through all hardship, he still smiled, smiling for his mother who he knew was watching over him. This is where he learns to talk politely, cause if he didn’t, he’ll get punished. At the age of 20, The society around him was too new for a child who never experienced it, and he’ll learn it the harsh way. Even at this age, he was innocent and gullible.

Blake would go back to serve someone because that’s the only thing he knew. The good thing about it this time was, it wasn’t under a harsh ruler, he’ll take odd jobs like washing dishes, cleaning, etc. Two years later he’ll meet his soon-to-be wife. He’ll meet her at night when she was crying. She told him the story of her husband, an abusive man, whom she had to leave with her children. It takes years before they fall in love, blake would help her through a lot of hardship, and get to know her children.

He’ll love them dearly, even if he’ll never have children of his own. While he would be looked down upon, since he did live with a woman who was married before, despite all name calls, he still loved her. They’ll have a small marriage only the kids as audience and a priest to confirm them. Working hard for another two years, Blake would eventually buy a small land to farm with his family. They’ll live happily. That is, until five years later when the incident happens and he’ll lose them.

Personality:

BLAKE IS A TIRED INDIVIDUAL, WHO IS ALSO ANGRY AND BITTER ABOUT HIS LIFE AS A WHOLE. YET, BEHIND THAT LOOK HE IS THE MOST CARING INDIVIDUAL YOU’LL EVER SEE. BLAKE IS WHAT YOU CALL AN INNOCENT SOUL, HE CAN’T BAT AN EYE AWAY FROM TROUBLED PEOPLE, HAS TO SAVE THOSE WHO ARE IN NEED, AND WOULD RATHER GIVE HIS LIFE UP FOR THEM. SOMETIMES HE’S A SHY INDIVIDUAL WITH SOCIALIZING SINCE IT HAS BEEN 100 OF YEARS SINCE HE EVER REALLY TALKED WITH SOMEONE PERSONALLY WHICH ALSO LEADS TO AWKWARDNESS. HE IS ALSO A LEARNER, TRIES TO UNDERSTAND THE WORLD AROUND HIM, AND IS GRATEFUL THAT THE CURSE CHOOSES HIM, RATHER THAN SOMEONE ELSE. NOT WANTING TO BURDEN ANYONE.

BLAKE NEVER GETS ANGRY WITH PEOPLE, HE IS RATHER GULIBE IN HIS OWN RIGHT AND THOSE AROUND HIM DO FEEL SORRY FOR THE MAN. HE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE FUTURE. BLAKE IS ALSO CURIOUS ABOUT HIS SURROUNDINGS, HE WOULD RATHER LEARN ABOUT WHAT’S IN FRONT OF HIM AND LOVES TO READ THE STORY BEHIND IT ALL. BEING THE CURIOUS ONE HE IS, HE WOULD ASK QUESTIONS STRANGE TO SOME, BUT SEEING HOW HE HAD NEVER SEEN ANYTHING OR LEARNED ENOUGH, THE WORLD AROUND HIM WOULD SEEM NEW. LEARNING ANYTHING WITH JOY IN HIS HEART.

WITH A BIG HEART, BLAKE TENDS TO GET ATTACHED TO PEOPLE PRETTY EASILY. ONCE YOU TEAR DOWN THE SHY WALL AROUND HIM, HE IS A GREAT PERSON TO BE AROUND WITH. BLAKE IS A LISTENER, AND IF YOU’RE FEELING DOWN AND NEED SOMEONE TO TALK WITH OR SHOULDER TO CRY ON BLAKE IS THE BEST PERSON TO DO SO, HE WON’T FEEL BURDENED BY THE EMOTION THAT IS SHOWN, ONLY BECAUSE HE KNOWS HOW IT FEELS.

Abilities:

BLAKE IS IMMORTAL AND WOULDN’T DIE FROM ANY NORMAL WEAPONS THAT ARE THROWN HIS WAY, ALTHOUGH HE COULD ‘DIE’ HE WOULD GET BACK UP AFTER HIS DEATH.

AFTER HIS DEATH, BLAKE REGENERATES BACK WITHIN AN HOUR, LIKE WAKING UP FROM A SLUMBER.

AN EXCELLENT SHOOTER AND A MARKSMAN.

BLAKE IS CURSED, DURING THE NIGHTS HE’LL TRANSFORM INTO A SKELETON, THE PROCESS IS HORRIBLE WHERE HE’LL LOSE HIS SKIN BY CATCHING ON FIRE.

Weapons/important items:

Pistol

Shotgun.

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bubbles-is-hardcore · 2 years

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Okay. I’ve been thinking on this for the past few days, ever since the news dropped. Honestly, I feel like a lot of people are not looking at this issue the right way. Say whatever you want on whether you think a fetus is a living human being or when life truly begins. It’s a philosophical question that will never have a clear cut answer. However, whether or not a fetus is a living human being is not the issue. It simply doesn’t matter. What this all boils down to is Bodily Autonomy. The human right to decide what happens to your physical body.

People say “Abortion is murder! You are killing babies!”

Think about it like this, is it murder to not donate bone marrow to the two year dying of cancer?

Is it murder to not donate your blood every week to supplement the constant demand and shortages of blood products?

Is it murder every time someone dies waiting on the organ transplant list?

The answer to those questions is no. None of those things are murder. Are they unfortunate and heartbreaking? Yes. However, no one is going to prison or getting fined in any of these circumstances because it is unlawful and immoral to force someone to put their health and life at risk to save another. It’s not murder because you didn’t step in front of the bullet to save someone else. In no other instance is there even a discussion on whether we should force someone to use their body to sustain someone else’s life. We do not even force corpses to do that. If you don’t have written permission as an organ donor then none are taken that could save multiple lives and even improve the lives of many more. It’s not anyone else’s decision what happens to your body, even as a corpse.

And I know people like to minimize what it really means to be pregnant and give birth. It’s sugar coated and romanticized but it is a dangerous endeavor whether you want to believe it or not. People die not only in labor but from pregnancy complications all the time, especially in America where we have the HIGHEST maternity mortality rate of all first world countries. In fact, according to the WHO we are only one of two countries whose maternal mortality rate has INCREASED since 2000 (the other being the Dominican Republic). And that rate goes up the younger/older the mother gets. Women choose to take that risk to bring life into this world. They suffer to bring life into this world. 10 year olds who just got their period and are raped will most likely die if they are forced to try and give birth. Pro Life until outside the womb. Doesn’t that child’s life matter? Doesn’t the 11, 12, 13 year olds life matter? Doesn’t the 42 year old mom with 3 other kids life matter?

But as I said before, that’s not what this is about. None of the anti abortion advocates care about life. They have shown that again and again through the policies they block and support. There is no support for mothers and children outside of the womb.

Let’s all call this what it is, a ploy for control. A ploy for the control of women and anyone with a uterus. A ploy for control of the working class and the poor folks of this country. They are the ones that will pay the most dearly for this. People who have the means to “take a vacation” after “getting in trouble” won’t. There is no other reason for this because it is not about life.

Let’s also not forget that the reasoning used in the Supreme Courts decision stated that Roe v Wade was baseless and it’s foundation faulty. That foundation was the right to privacy. Other cases that have been settled on that same basis will now be under threat, all of which have been threatened recently by republicans in office. These cases include, Lawrence v Texas (right to sexual privacy), Griswald v Connecticut (right to contraception for married couples), Obergefell v Hodges (right to same sex marriage), and even Loving v Virginia (right to interracial marriage). I don’t want to wake up in two years to find my marriage nullified. Does it sound like I’m jumping to the worst case? Like I’m catastrophizing? Well two years ago you would have said the same thing about Roe v Wade.

And say what you will on why this is happening be it the falling birth rates, religious extremism, or just good old fashioned misogyny. Both women and men should be furious. The majority of Americans do not support this. The lie of the “Silent Majority” can only last so long. So VOTE and RAGE. Rage and rage and rage until it cannot be ignored.

WE WILL NOT GO BACK

Some sites to visit and donate if you can: The Abortion Fund https://abortionfunds.org Women’s Reproductive Rights Assistance Project https://wrrap.org Planned Parenthood https://www.plannedparenthood.org/get-involved/other-ways-give

#roe v wade #abortion #women #we wont go back #equal rights #conservatism #republican #pro life #pro choice #democracy #gop

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obey-me-apocalypso-official · 2 years

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SFW alphabet template: War ⚔️

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's casual about it so you won't notice- but he's touch starved as heck.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's surprised you're not afraid of him. Because the thought lingers- as friends, he'l try to keep his spooky side away from you. Try to keep you in the dark about most of what he does in his free time. He has a friend, he doesn't want to fuck it up and loose that.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yep! He likes it. Again. Touch starved lil man. He'l act like he just doesn't mind but he craves it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He wants to but he isn't good at it. Your home will be a disaster or just okay depending on how good YOU are at domestic work..

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Planned out extensively to let you down easy. He'l do everything to cushion the drop. He's so good with it.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

His realm was kind of stuck in the medieval era and all... so marriage is something he expects, sort of? But he also knows that humans especially nowadays don't attribute as much value to it. He doesn't either, objectively. His logical mind knows that it's literally just a fancy ceremony. But. It strikes a chord to imagine seeing his s/o walking down an aisle.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's super gentle because he doesn't want to scare you away. In reality he could probably snap your neck. He's deceitfully powerful and aggressive. Heck, he can wield anime-size claymores, and he's not unfamiliar with shady work.. his s/o will never see that side of him though.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

This man right there? Hug him. Unprompted. It makes his heart melt. He looks fine but he's shaking and blushing and PQJEOFNG YOU JUST DID THAT

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Takes a long time for him to say it seriously. He'l throw it around casually like Conquest but then he looks right at you and mutters with his cheeks flushed "i-i love..you..." and yep. Right there.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Extremely jealous. He won't show it. He takes any competition as seriously as war. He knows perfectly how to deal with it, you don't gotta worry or question him ♥️

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kiss him! Do it!! >:C he'l do it playfully like Conquest but when YOU do it? He knows it's genuine?? Oof his poor heart..

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He loves them.. he wants one :C but. They're afraid of him. Like, super afraid. He exists and they run off..

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He gets up pretty early. Sometimes he'l sleep in if he has free time.. depends, really. Most times he might not be sleeping at home though so you won't see him much in the morning.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He stays up super late.. honestly you might wonder if he actually sleeps at all. Sometimes he'l be out super late and sometimes he'l be at home all day. He's a wildcard.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You'l die before you learn about him. If he doesn't want you to know something, you won't. You'l have to do your own snooping.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He'l never loose his cool in front of the cast, but behind the scenes he's definitely been pretty terrifyingly angry. He doesn't like breaking face in front of his family because it's a weakness..

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He has pretty great memory yknow! Some stuff might escape him and he'l mutter a 'damn.' Under his breath out of disappointment in himself. He's good at remembering a lot of details but sometimes the most obvious stuff will slip right between his fingers. It's kinda cute.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Probably when you first said i love you to him. His heart dropped. No one ever said that to him so..

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Much so. He does trust you though so he won't go overboard. But. You're dating WAR. If you're in danger he'l know and whoever caused you distress will live a painful life from then on. What he hates more than anything are cowards, and anyone who attacks you to get to him is clearly one.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's sort of done with completely over the top events. He's certainly willing to take you out somewhere fancy if you want but he'd rather keep it simple. He likes human life, he likes to experience it. He's lived as the lord of his realm long enough.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Hiding. Keeping secrets.. he's not accustomed to letting out how he feels or what he really thinks. He's afraid, really. He has so much he's keeping to himself. Be patient with him..

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not that much. He prefers practicality over aesthetic. He likes himself though! His scars are cool dontcha think??

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If his lover vanished he'd be the type to never get over it. Broken veteran. When they're brought up he'd smile sadly and shrug. Plenty people loose their loved ones at war. He was the cause for some of those losses. It feels like natural karma that he'd loose his.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

His hair's super damaged. Someone help this poor man. It's a mess.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He hates people who are cowardly. Who shoot low. If you're gonna do something do it like you mean it. He also hates being compared to Conquest.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Bold of you to assume he sleeps! (He does.)

#obey me oc #apocalypso #obey me apocalypso #apocalypso war #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #war x reader

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sharplikenedge · 9 months

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Character name: Blake

About:

AGE: Age when cursed: 36

BIRTH DATE: 1831/May/23.

GENDER: Male.

HEIGHT : 5'10"

Character biography:

Personality:

Abilities:

BLAKE IS IMMORTAL AND WOULDN’T DIE FROM ANY NORMAL WEAPONS THAT ARE THROWN HIS WAY, ALTHOUGH HE COULD ‘DIE’ HE WOULD GET BACK UP AFTER HIS DEATH.

AFTER HIS DEATH, BLAKE REGENERATES BACK WITHIN AN HOUR, LIKE WAKING UP FROM A SLUMBER.

AN EXCELLENT SHOOTER AND A MARKSMAN.

BLAKE IS CURSED, DURING THE NIGHTS HE’LL TRANSFORM INTO A SKELETON, THE PROCESS IS HORRIBLE WHERE HE’LL LOSE HIS SKIN BY CATCHING ON FIRE.

Weapons items:

Pistol

Shotgun.

0 notes

st-just · 2 years

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Mri Caste as Gender

So the Faded Sun’s still kind of living in my head, and like specifically the lens of Mri caste-as-gender is lodged in deep enough I might as well try to exorcise it via writing it out.

Because, okay, in the book the Mri have three castes, Kel, Sen and Kath. Your caste is determined some time in adolescence, is by far the most important thing about you, determines your standards of dress, modesty, how and when it’s appropriate to interact with outsiders, what sort of labour it’s socially acceptable to take part in, and your political and economic claims and privileges, as well as your expected role in child rearing and how and what kind of romance is acceptable. It’s also totally nonhereditary (for reasons that will be obvious). So like, it’s being a bit precious still probably, but I don’t think calling them genders is completely off base.

And, so, to vastly oversimplify, the Kel are Toxic Masculinity: Noble Savage Warrior Aristocrat edition, the Kath are women-under-patriarchy-as-defined-by-a-radfem (and also children who haven’t yet settled into a gender of their own), and the Sen are celibate scholar-mystics, and the political elite, and also the only ones who are allowed to learn any sort of theoretical or academic knowledge. Or, like, read.

Which, stepping back, seems like a fairly typical sort of made-up-words-for-standard-gender-binary – leaving aside the celibate Sen anyway, you have the hypermasculine Kel and the hyperfemine Kath, and the social imbalance you’d naively expect, with (for example) sexual access to a Kath (though not necessarily a specific one) more or less on demand being a standard privilege of being a Kel in good standing. And then you’ve got the vaguely neuter Sen above/to the side, but I kind of feel like a third gender associated with knowledge and mysticism and learning isn’t that unusual in SFF? (Blame monasteries and celibate clergy, probably. Well I mean and third genders is most societies that had them being associated with the spiritual/supernatural generally, too).

But what gender you get sorted into is actually an open question. Because being a Kel or Sen isn’t actually limited by sex, either in principle or practice – being a warrior forbidden from ever doing any manual labour or learning anything not directly useful for warfare who might be compelled at any point to murder some poor idiot or get yourself killed defending someone’s honour is open to all! (This is also true of the Sen, but isn’t true of the Kath, whose entire social purpose is biological and social reproduction, and seem to have all the associations with fragility, kindness, softheartedness, etc, you’d expect from cloistered femininity).

And then at one point it’s mentioned that how it tends to work is that usually everyone tries to be a Sen or Kel, and if you’re female and don’t make it you kind of just fail down into being a Kath, and if you’re male and you aren’t Sen material then you’re going to keep trying to be a Kel until you either manage it or get killed (one way or another. Being a Kel but being bad at it provides an infinite number of ways for your peers and elders to honourably kill you). Which, well, certain I’m weighing it down with my own preconceptions here, but feels like there’s something to the perspective of it as ‘Try to make it as either Warrior or Intellectual. If you can have kids then if you don’t make it you fail down to Woman, if you can’t then if you can’t hack it you’re surplus to requirements.” (I may be being overly cynical in assuming that would-be Kath who are infertile aren’t treated any better. But given the amount of letting the unsuitable die off Mri culture does generally I’m skeptical).

But it’s more complex than that, because sex does matter for Kel and Sen, but only in a few circumstances. First, Kel can be ‘truemates’ – the closest to traditionally married couples Mri culture seems to have – and in the book this only seems to occur between male and female Kel. However, given the everything else about the general vibe of the book, I’m just going to choose to attribute that to ‘was published in the late ‘70s, not allowed to say gay people exist’, and consciously ignore it.

More importantly, sex does matter again at the very top of society. Specifically, the leader of any given Mri community is the She’pan – the spiritual mother of the entire group, who is elevated out of the Sen (but with the necessary support of a Kel champion, because this is a culture where single combat to the death between champions is how things are settled half the time). So she’s necessarily celibate (and that IS important, we eventually meet a related species whose equivalent of the She’pan seems to be a mother in a physical sense as well, and the idea seems to be the cause of some disgust and revulsion), but she does necessarily have to be female, no alternative is ever mentioned or even considered.

And, while they don’t necessarily seem to overlap with the actual highest ranked Kel, the She’pan is expected to have a harem of skilled Kel husbands to act as an honour guard. The ‘harem’ bit is mostly figurative, except that since she can’t have any children herself, any children her husbands have with anyone else are counted as being hers instead. (Which really feels like rubbing salt in the wound of the social inequality thing to me, but anyway).

Anyway I didn’t really have, like, a point or thesis for this, and did not arrive at one while writing it out at 1am on a Sunday. I just think made up alien societies are neat?

#in this essay I will #books #the faded sun #c.j. cherryh #gender! at the discourse #probably will have another giant faded sun post or two later #it's in my head #if I make a habit of this I should really probably make a book sideblog

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jaycewrites-192000 · 3 years

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The Rest Of Our Lives

Levi Ackerman x Reader

It had all finally came to an end, the world could finally try its best to heal from years upon years of death.

Speaking of healing, he had gone through the worst of it over the years. And finally, he has the rest of his life to heal.

But he can't do it alone...

(Spoiler Warning!!! This story contains spoilers for the end of the Attack on Titan manga!!!)

It had been three years since that fateful battle. So many lives had been lost that day, good and bad, friend and enemy. Even the majority of the human population, eighty percent to be specific, had been wiped out just for the slim chance of peace, and even then, it wasn't completely guaranteed. But for now, all was calm. That day, was the battle between titan and human, heaven and earth. The day the dreaded rumbling had began, and soon ended. It resulted in many deaths and plenty of injuries, the worst landed upon Levi Ackerman. Humanity's strongest soldier was nearly killed, but he wasn't given that title for nothing. He was still living today, though missing a few fingers, a working eye, and finally his permanently damaged leg. It wasn't too much of a problem, as there were no longer any titans to fight. Though, it was somewhat, shameful in his eyes. That after everything, a busted leg is what holds him down. He wasn't even elderly, and yet he needed constant help. He grateful for the help however, though he wished he didn't have to burden people with his problem so much.

But, it wasn't a burden or a problem to her.

She was there by his side for as long as he can remember. She fought by his side during expeditions, comforted him during his low points, and even risked her life over and over to keep him safe and alive. He can't say he's never done the same for her. Maybe it was her constant attention and care, that made him fall in love with her. At the time, it was horrible. He fell in love with someone he could so easily loose, but now in a world free of titans, he could love her as much as he wanted. And the same goes for her. They both confessed their love for each other shortly before the rumbling began, then he proposed to her after everything settled.

And so, here they were, in their own little cabin next to a beautiful lake, surrounded by tall pine trees. They both were outside today, rested on the bench that sat right before the lake. Hand in hand, her head leaning on his shoulder. Their gentle breaths in sync with one another. The calmness of the quiet air, aided to their ease. For once in their lives, they felt no need for worry or panic, or when the next attack from the titans would be. And they would never need for such worries again.

Her eyes slowly opened, she smiled as the first thing she saw, was her soon to be husband. Even with the scars, he was still as handsome as ever. Though, his eyes were distant and somewhat empty. Why? "Levi?" She spoke softly. "Are you ok?" Levi finally blinked, sighing softly he looked down at you. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?" She sits up to meet his gaze. "You seem, a little distant. Are you tired?" Levi shakes his head before placing his hand on his scar. "Just thinking." He muttered. Was that what this was about? This would happen every now and then, Levi would just stare at himself in the mirror. Well, less himself and more at his blinded eye, the two long scars that covered it. It started from the top of his eye down to his lip. He considered himself lucky, that explosion Zeke Yeager caused could have just killed him all together. But it only costed him an eye and a few fingers.

Still she wondered, did he hate how he looked now? He never commented on it before, so she just assumed he didn't care. But the way his overall expression would falter anytime he saw it, or tried to lifted his hand, or even when he tried to stand. "Levi? You know I didn't think less of you because of those scars." She placed her hand on top of his damaged one. "Or your hand. Or your leg. I still love you. I always have and I always will. This doesn't change a thing." Y/n say softly, trying to reassure him. "I...I know that Y/n. But....it's not that...not this time." Levi looks up at the sky. It was a soft orange, signifying the end of the day. "Every time I wake up, I wonder when it will happen." Y/n blinks a few times, not really understanding. "When what will happen?" She asks. "When they will come back. The titans. Before, at any moment, we could die at the hands of those giant bastards." Y/n would be lying if she said she hadn't felt the same at sometimes.

"But Levi, that was before. They're gone now. There are no more titans, we're safe." She explains to him.

"For how long?"

The panic in his voice was clear. Y/n took both of his hands and held them in her own. Her eyes full of sincerity as she spoke. "Levi, I know how you're feeling. But, you were there that day. We both were, the titans are gone. They died along with Eren." It still pained you to say it. Though in the end Eren was acting rash and out of hand, you still remembered him as the same young boy with hope in his heart that one day, the world would be a one without titans. It was a shame that he let it go to his head, and because of that, he was responsible for nearly exterminating all of humanity. Therefore, he had to face the consequences of his actions and pay the ultimate price. Poor kid...

"There are no trace of titans left. We're safe. You're safe. And you will never have to worry about stuff like that ever again." You bring his hands up and kiss them gently. Making sure he felt your love, even through his missing fingers. "And I won't ever leave your side. I'll always be here for you Levi. To care for you, to love you, for the rest of our lives."

A sudden wetness on your hands made you flinch. You look up to expecting to see rain, but instead, you saw Levi, crying. He sniffles a few times before leaning closer to you, until his head rested on your shoulder. You smiles and rub his back in a soothing manor. Through his sobs, you could make out a feint "thank you" from Levi.

You meant every word. You will always be there for him. And he in return would always be there for you. You two will always have each other, for the rest of your lives.

Another year has come to pass, Levi and Y/n had finally married, and proud to call themselves Mr and Mrs Ackerman. And Mrs Ackerman was expecting and due to deliver soon. There were congratulations given all around. From Armin, Jean, Connie, Annie, Reiner, even Falco and Gabi. Even Mikasa. It was a bit surprised that she came to visit. Mikasa had became distant ever since Eren died, she was the one that killed him after all. She had been by Eren side for many many years, and in the end, she was the one that put him to rest. It took quite a toll on her. But she was recovering, slowly but surely.

Y/n wished so desperately that Hanji and Erwin could have been here today. Though, she bet that Hanji would have been pretty sad without having anymore titans to experiment on. But deep down she knew, that they were still here, even if she couldn't see them. Levi knew it as well. They would both regularly visit their graves to pay respects and generally just talk about what's going on in their lives. Hanji would have been so thrilled to know that Levi and Y/n settled down to start a family. From the very beginning, Hanji had always hoped you two would get together. She even went as far as teasing her and Levi, which would normally result in a kick to the back from Levi. Not too hard though, he didn't want to break her spine. And Erwin, he would just be happy to see Levi happy with someone. And of course Levi's former squad would be happy that he was at peace with himself. They all would be so proud of him.

When it came time for Y/n to deliver, it was one of the most stressful and wonderful days of Levi's life. Fortunately, Y/n was just fine afterwards and gave birth to a healthy and beautiful little girl. She resembled Levi the most, with her black hair and her grey-blue eyes. She had some of Y/n's features as well, like her skin tone and her facial features.

"What should we name her?" Y/n spoke softly as she held her baby close. "We haven't came up with a name for her yet?" Levi mutters. They were spending more time preparing themselves for a new addition to their small family, that they hardly had time to think of one. Levi gently stroked his daughter's cheek, she gave a tiny smile in return before her face returned to a more sleepy one. It made Levi's heart race. This was his daughter, he made that! Well, really Y/n did, but it meant just as much to him. Never in his wildest dreams would he ever think that he would have children. Then again, he never thought he would meet someone like Y/n either. Levi's stone expression dropped, a smile of his own made it onto his face.

"Levi, I've actually had one in mind for a while. But, I wasn't sure if...you would be ok with it." Y/n spoke hesitantly. Levi held her hand, such a small gesture, made sure she knew she didn't have to keep anything from him. "I know how close you were to Farlan and Isabell." Levi's breathing halted for a second. "More specifically, how much Isabell looked up to you. I know she saw you as a brother, but...what I'm trying to say is, what if we named her, Isabell?" Y/n looked down at her baby, who was sleeping peacefully in her arms. It was true, Farlan and Isabell were like family to Levi, it was devastating the way they died. He wasn't there to help them, if he was, maybe they would be here today. He missed them dearly...

When Levi didn't respond, Y/n became worried. "I-I mean, we don't have to. I was just-"

"It's perfect." Levi cut her off. "Our little Isabell." He says with another warm smile. Y/n returned the smile before kissing her daughter's head. "Welcome to the world, Isabell." She whispers.

With this, Levi knew he was living for so much more. He had a woman who loved him with all her heart, despite how he looks now. And now, he had a child. Though this world was without titans, it doesn't mean there won't be another danger that was out there, just waiting to snatch his happiness away from him. But Levi wouldn't let it. Levi swore this very day, to protect his wife and daughter with everything he had. Despite injury, despite age, he would never let anything or anyone harm his family. Because for now on, it will be only them, together.

For the rest of their lives.

THE END

(This was not stolen! This story was reposted from my Wattpad account!)

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot 139 #snk 139 #aot spoilers #snk spoilers #spoilers #manga spoilers #anime spoilers

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sincerelystranger · 3 years

Text

not enough 5

Wei Wuxian proves himself to be good.

Good and kind and diligent.

And like his father, his goodness breaks Jiang Fengmian’s heart.

“They saved me, uncle,” he says, his eyes dark and wide and desperate. “The only mark against them is that they are Wens. They’ve never killed or hurt anyone. I can’t – What the Jin’s are doing is not justice.”

Jiang Fengmian can’t do anything but look back at him.

They’re in the cursed Burial Mounds, a group of Wen’s shiver behind Wei Wuxian. All of them, hiding behind this young boy as if he can save them.

Jiang Fengmian wants to hate them, but he sees too much of himself in them. He’s no better than them, after all. He’s been looking for salvation in Wei Wuxian for years.

“This will make you an enemy out of the entire cultivation world,” Jiang Cheng snarls angrily, stepping forward to grab Wei Wuxian’s arm and shake it. “They already talk ill of your cultivation. You protecting the Wen’s… Wei Wuxian… Our sect cannot afford to protect them.”

“That’s why I will protect them,” Wei Wuxian replies seriously, “Tell everyone that my actions are mine alone – that the Yunmeng Jiang do not approve.”

Jiang Cheng turns to him. “Father – tell him!” he says desperately, “Tell him he cannot do this!”

Wei Wuxian turns his head to look at him as well.

“Wen Ning is the only reason I was able to get you and Yu-Furan out that night, uncle,” he says softly, “If for that reason alone, I cannot abandon them.”

This is the first time Wei Wuxian has really stood up against Jiang Fengmian, and it breaks Jiang Fengmian’s heart that it is to defend his honor.

If only they weren’t Wens.

If they were from any other family, Jiang Fengmian would happily protect them for the rest of their lives.

But his son is right.

And his wife is right.

And Wei Wuxian is right.

“We can’t protect you, A-Xian,” Jiang Fengmian says softly, and his voice comes out surprisingly even, even as his heart crumbles in his chest. “Is this really what you choose?”

Wei Wuxian stares at him for a long while before he nods solemnly. A stray tear falls down his face and Jiang Fengmian turns before he sees any more fall.

“Father,” Jiang Cheng calls out desperately, “You can’t let him – father!”

“With this decision, you are no longer part of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect,” Jiang Fengmian says calmly. “You are no longer under our protection and we will no longer claim you.”

He doesn’t know if Wei Wuxian replies or not, because walks away.

Jiang Cheng catches up to him when he’s already more than halfway down the mountain. “Father,” he says desperately, and Jiang Fengmian can already tell by the sound of his voice that his son is crying. “A-Xian – Wei Wuxian, he’s just – he’s just—“

“Hush,” Jiang Fengmian says not slowing down at all. If he stops now. If he stumbles even just one step. He knows that he will run back there and drag Wei Wuxian back to Lotus Pier. He knows this. So he can’t stop.

“Please father,” Jiang Cheng sobs, “You can’t throw A-Xian away like this. Look around you – a person cannot survive here. You’re sentencing him to death. Please—“

“This is Wei Wuxian’s decision!” Jiang Fengmian shouts, his eyes looking forward, his back straight and his steps steady.

“But he’ll die,” Jiang Cheng sobs, “Why won’t you save him? Don’t you care?”

I do love him, Jiang Fengmian thinks numbly. It’s because I love him that I cannot save him.

That boy. That poor boy. He never had a choice anyway.

From the moment Jiang Fengmian found him on the street, Wei Wuxian was destined to ruin himself for him.

He was just like his father after all.

---

His wife is surprisingly furious with him.

“You should have dragged him back here by his hair if you had to,” she seethes, Zidian crackling on her fist.

“He would not leave without the remaining Wens,” Jiang Fengmian explains calmly, “I did as much as I could.”

“Then you should have brought the Wens along as well,” she snaps back.

Her reply shocks him.

“You know as well as I do that bringing them back is not an option,” he says.

She scoffs at his answer. “Why? Are you so afraid of those arrogant old men and their gossip?”

“It’s more than gossip,” he says, “Protecting the Wens would mark us as traitors.”

“Protecting old women and children would mark us traitors?” his wife asks sarcastically. “How cowardly you are.”

“Do you not care of how our sect is spoken about?” he asks, his voice rising with his temper. He had expected this from Jiang Cheng but from his wife? He had secretly thought she would be delighted to finally be rid of Wei Wuxian.

“If I cared how we were spoken about, I would not have let that orphan live with us for so many years,” she yells back.

Her answer silences him. It makes him sit back on his seat and just look at her.

She’s strange, his wife. And just when he thinks he knows her… she…

But then again, Jiang Fengmian has always been a fool.

His problem is that he always thinks he knows.

He sighs deeply and lowers his head in defeat. “I cannot bring him back now,” he says tiredly, “His separation from our sect is already common knowledge.”

“You’re an old fool,” she says, her mouth turning down in disgust. “Without a sect, everyone in the world will be after that talisman of his. With your cowardice, you’ve sentenced all of them to a miserable end.”

“If you’re right, then I’ve just saved our sect from certain annihilation,” he says, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

He’s not sure anymore what the right thing to do was.

He had been sure when he was on Burial Mounds, but now…

“I do not understand you,” she says coldly. “Once you were prepared to jeopardize all of us to save him. Now, you send him off like a sheep for slaughter. Has your sentimental love for his mother finally come to an end?”

Jiang Fengmian stands and walks out of the room, unable to stand his wife’s words any longer.

I just wanted to free him, Jiang Fengmian thinks desperately.

But maybe he’s lying to himself.

Maybe.

Maybe Jiang Fengmian had just wanted to free himself.

---

They call him the Yiling Patriarch.

Wei Wuxian becomes the topic of many fearsome tales. They claim that he is half man and half demon. They say that he can kill a thousand men with one note from his flute. They say he performs dark magic with the Wens on the cursed Burial Mounds.

People speak endlessly about him and Jiang Fengmian finds that he just… misses him.

Not even just his face or the way he reminds him of the man he lost.

Jiang Fengmian finds that he just misses Wei Wuxian.

Time passes and things seemingly start to settle down and Jiang Fengmian begins to think that perhaps his decision to let Wei Wuxian part from his sect wasn’t the death sentence his wife and Jiang Cheng made it up to be.

Maybe… Maybe for once, Jiang Fengmian has made the right choice.

He finds solace in the thought.

He knows Jiang Cheng goes up to the Burial Mounds every so often. He thinks he’s being sneaky about it, but Jiang Cheng is just as subtle as his mother – which is to say not at all.

Jiang Fengmian turns a blind eye to it and comforts himself with the knowledge that if Wei Wuxian were really in trouble, Jiang Cheng would say something to him.

It’s an odd feeling, but he feels that Jiang Cheng has outgrown him somehow.

At one point, he had believed Jiang Cheng to be too much like him. Unable to love correctly and always hurting the person who least deserved it.

Now…

Now Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem to be like him at all.

“He’ll be a much better sect leader than me,” Jiang Fengmian says to his wife.

His wife turns her head to watch Jiang Cheng. He’s training disciples in the main courtyard. “At the very least, he will be more decisive than you,” she says.

Jiang Fengmian watches her watch her son. It’s hard to remember why he always thought her so indifferent. So cold.

He knows now that there is an inferno that she keeps tightly trapped inside.

She loves so fiercely that it scares her to let it out.

He’s sorry that it took him twenty years to realize it.

“I’m glad he is so much like you,” he says softly, and the truth of it weighs heavily on his chest.

She doesn’t react to his words, but she lowers her eyes and he can tell she’s touched.

“Old age has made you soft,” she says after some time.

Maybe before, Jiang Fengmian would hear the coldness in her words, but now all he can hear is the affection.

It’s strange how things change.

---

His daughter gets married.

She’s stunning in her wedding attire and her smile is bright enough to light up all of Lanling.

Jiang Fengmian had been uncertain about her marriage at first – the last thing he wanted to do was curse her to an unhappy marriage – but looking at how Jin Zixuan dotes on her, he feels safe enough to send her to Lanling…

…And after Jiang Cheng’s long ‘talk’ with Jin Zixuan, Jiang Fengmian feels rather confident that Jin Zixuan will not be like his father.

His wife has a rare smile on her lips during the wedding celebrations.

“If you hadn’t stupidly broken up their betrothal, they would have gotten married much sooner and we might be grandparents by now,” she says, but her tone is too happy for her words to have any real sting.

“I think this may have worked out better,” Jiang Fengmian replies easily with a smile of his own. “A little hardship is good fuel for a man’s love.”

His wife rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh. “Perhaps that is where I went wrong,” she says, “I was too easy.”

Her words are a sharp jab at Jiang Fengmian’s heart.

He knows that their marriage has been a cold one. A meeting of two people unwilling to understand one another.

He often thinks that if they had met under different circumstances, they may… well it might have never been love, but they would not have hurt each other as they did.

Because… he understands now that he hurt her too.

He reaches over and puts his hand over hers.

She doesn’t look at him, but he can tell that she’s surprised by the way she freezes.

“The best a parent can hope for is a better life for their children,” he says softly. “You’ve raised her well, and for that she will have a better marriage than ours.”

His wife blinks rapidly and turns her head slowly to look at him. Her eyes are wide and deep and they look surprisingly vulnerable on her stoic face.

He gives her a soft smile. “But I don’t think our marriage is too bad, either,” he says, and he squeezes her hand in his.

She turns her face away quickly and does not reply.

She’s quiet for the rest of the banquet.

But she doesn’t remove her hand from his.

#mdzs #the untamed #jiang fengmian #yu ziyuan #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #sincerely: not enough

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mindofharry · 3 years

Text

Try a little tenderness is on, you’re in a a flowy summer dress and harry is in one of his flowery shirts and plain shorts. you both showered earlier together and then settled down to watch 10 things i hate about you. One of your favourites and one that harry likes too. After that you both decided carbonara was the meal you would make on the first night of your honeymoon.

“you smell good” you sighed snuggling your head into his chest as he moved you both around. “thanks, baby. used your shampoo by the way” he replied making you giggle. “i noticed” you say as he twirled you around. Dreams by fleetwood mac came on making the tempo of your dances change. Your dress twirled around as harry danced around the kitchen with you.

You never wanted this moment to end.

or you and harry have your honeymoon in italy.

The drive to the cottage made you feel car sick. You had begged harry to rent a car and let you drive, but he insisted on driving his new wife to the cottage. You love to drive. One reason why is because you never feel sick in the drivers seat, and because driving is just so relaxing to you.

“you’re not driving” Harry said taking the keys off of you. You pouted and stomped your foot like a two year old. Harry raised his eyebrow and pulled you into a hug. You got married two days ago, staying at a hotel in london before heading off on your romantic voyage. Harry (and you, but mostly harry) has been looking foward to visiting italy again. You’ll even say he was more excited to speak italian than say his vows. You can admit, italy has so much history. you both met here, you staying here for work and harry obviously here for a shoot or something. You bet at a local bar and hit it off straight away.

Harry and you spent the chunk of his trip together. At the beach, his hotel, your apartment, the bar. You thought it would just be a summer fling - but here you are, married and back in italy. Nothing beats it to be honest, you wouldn’t change a thing.

So here you are, in his car that harry loves, trying to keep your lunch in your stomach. Why didn’t you buy a bottle of water? And why didn’t you put your foot down with driving? Your stubborn usually, something harry loves about you. But once harry brings out those green puppy dog eyes and famous pout, there’s no way you can cause a fight over it, and that asswhole knows you can’t say no to the pout and puppy dog eyes.

“you ok baby?” the bastard asked with a smirk. you groaned and opened your window ignoring his question, harry placed his hand on your thigh his cold rings bringing some comfort to you. “we’ll be at the cottage in 5. you can hold onto until then, right”

He asked and you nodded placing a hand on your forehead. “i’m fine, just wished i ignored that pout” you mumbled making harry chuckle. “no one can resist it, honey” he said making you nod. It’s true, you’re not the only one. His mum, for one. The only that gave him those fucking eyes, can’t resist them. When he was a child the minute he didn’t get something - bam, puppy dog eyes and he’d get it straight away. The same with poor jeff. He just can’t say no.

“you definitely take advantage of us” you say, silently thanking god as you see the cottage just up the road. Harry scoffed putting on the indicator to park the car. “i do not take advantage of people. i just get what i want very quickly” he said making you laugh.

“sure, baby. if that’s what you want to call it”

Unpacking it the most relaxing thing for you and harry to do with each other. You offer to help him when he gets home from tour and trips etc, it’s relaxing and nice to just talk.

“How much did you bring?” Harry asked opening up your suitcase. “the right fucking amount. we’re here for two weeks, har. Not two days” you replied making your husband roll his eyes and open up the drawers.

Your husband.

you’ll never get used to that. Harry styles is your husband. you get to come home to him, have his babies, go to his concerts, paint his nails. You also get to watch endless amount of rom coms without any complaints so that’s definitely a plus.

“Don’t complain, just put away my clothes” you say only getting a kiss on your shoulder in response.

“Hey, why don’t we go out to the pool for a bit. unpack later? want to see my wife in a bikini” Harry said leaning back on the bed, you grinned and picked up one of your favourite pink bikinis.

“you’re desperate to see my tits, aren’t you?” you asked only getting a boyish grin from your husband. “ok fine. i’ll meet you outside then” you say grabbing your bikini and making your way to the bathroom. “hey! i wanted to see those beautiful boobs of yours!” harry yelled as you locked the bathroom door. “too late”

You changed in record time, tying up your hair and putting on some lotion and your sun glasses. Luckily you had waxed and shaved everywhere before coming on the trip. Usually you don’t mind having a little hair, but this time it was a little different. Harry always said he doesn’t care, but you’ve done it now so he better like it. Your bikini was a little small, but that was kind of the point. The last time you wore it was last year in spain - harry and his little (boner) friend liked it very much too.

You stepped out of the bathroom and heard harry jump into the pool outside. Walking outside you grab the attention of harry and unbeknownst to you, the two 14 year old boys next door. All men were gobsmacked and harry couldn’t believe you were all his.

“i’m so glad i put a ring on you” he said getting out of the pool and placing his arms around you, getting you all wet (in more than one way). “hmmm. is it just for my body?” you teased, harry shook his head kissing your neck. “i love you for how smart you are. God, you’re like a dictionary. And how kind and selfless you are, so nice to everyone. And of course your perky little tits”

You rolled your eyes “My perky little tits love you too” you replied moving around him and bending down. Harry god a good look at your ass, hello boner.

You guys stayed in the pool for awhile. Sometimes swimming together other times alone. You even had a little swimming contest that you won - harry said he let you win. But you know when he’s lying and you’re obviously a much better swimmer than him. The pool is refreshing and cool in the scorching heat and you’re sure harry’s going to burn because he hasn’t reapplied any lotion whatsoever.

After getting out of the pool you both lay out on two chair, waters and cokes in between you both. “Harry, let me put lotion on you. you’re as red as a lobster” you plead making him sigh. “fine but only because i want to” he pouted sitting up.

You rubbed the lotion all of his skin, enjoying the little winces he lets out. serves him right for not listening to his wife. You always warn him, but he never listens. One day you’re just going to stop and he’ll have to put his own lotion on.

“i love you”

“i love you too, now massage me”

It was getting dark out once you decided to cook dinner, you were going for dinner tomorrow instead too tired to go out right now. Anyways you love cooking with harry, it’s nice. Have some stevie nicks and otis redding on in the background while talking about different types of food is oddly comforting and such a nice thing to do at the end of the day. And harry doesn’t like to take over either - he does his bit of cooking, you do yours and that’s that. There’s always a dance break too, like right now.

You never wanted this moment to end.

You could see you bringing your children here in a couple years, dancing with them to otis and fleetwood. That would be nice, you thought.

Making dinner was full of smiles, laughing and dancing. Just how you like it.

“This is amazing, baby” Harry said placing a hand on your thigh. “you made it too, har. take some credit” you say sipping at your wine. Harry squeezed your thigh and continued to eat his pasta - adele was currently on in the background, making it as peaceful as ever.

“i’m so glad i’m your husband”

“baby” you pouted pecking his lips. “i’m glad to be your wife” you say pecking his lips again. His lips are soft and something you could addicted to. You could kiss him for hours straight if you could.

“i think we should visit the bar we met in sometime tomorrow” you say, harry nodded in agreement. “yeah, they have nice sangria there too” harry replied making you roll your eyes.

“and a place full of beautiful memories” he added, you laughed nodding “that’s more like it. but yeah, the sangria’s are to die for” you agreed kissing his cheek before standing up and clearing off the table.

“why don’t you pick another movie and i’ll wash up?”

And so harry practically made you go into the living room and pick out a movie. Angus, thongs and perfect snogging - one he also didn’t mind. He really is the perfect husband. He did mind a little when you said the main male character, robbie was your crush when you were younger.

“so you weren’t a directioner?” he asked and you cackled “of course i was! i had multiple crushes baby!” you say trying to justify your crush on the character. Harry gave you the silent treatment for 10 minutes.

“Are you done ignoring me yet?” you asked as georgia the main character, flirted with robbie. harry sighed and pulled you into his chest making you look up at him.

“i guess. maybe you’ll have to kiss it better” he teased making you giggle but place your lips on his.

“i think i’m ready for bed, mr styles”

Harry bit his lip and pulled you off the couch making you squeal and laugh.

“i think so too, Mrs styles”

#short and sweet <3 #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

enough.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: here’s a little thing i put together to fill in some holes. it takes place the first week of aaron’s recovery at home, about halfway through his month-long medical leave following faceless, nameless.

words: 2.5k warnings: description of wound dressing, canon-typical injury, language, brief body image mention (scarring)

summary: “not taking your pain meds doesn’t make you captain america. it just makes you stupid, and in pain.” in other words: healing is annoying and certainly non-linear.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on his door, takeout in your hand. “It’s me!”

After a minute of silence on the other side of the door, you take your keys out of your pocket and start to open the door. “Don’t shoot me. I’m using my keys.” You move to open it, and the chain is in place.

Damn it, Aaron.

Then -

Is he okay?

“Aaron?” You call through the gap in the door. You leave the keys in the knob and pull your phone out of your pocket, hitting the first number on your speed dial.

You hear his phone ring, a smack, and both from down the hallway and through the speaker (with an echo): “Hotchner.”

“I’m here with dinner. Open the door.”

His voice is thick with sleep. “You have a key, right?”

“The chain is on. I’m surprised I didn’t trip the alarm.”

He makes a little dissatisfied noise and hangs up. You can hear him plant his feet and amble down the hallway.

You smile a little at him as he approaches the door, almost looking inconvenienced as he shuts it, removes the chain lock, and opens it again.

“Are you seriously upset that I brought you food?”

He shakes his head and steps back, letting you in before closing it. “No, sorry. I just didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

You take stock of him as he turns his back on you and sits on the couch, settling with a slowness that looks painful. You set the food down and then return to lock the door. It’s easier for him to answer your question when you’re not looking at him.

“How are you feeling?”

A sigh. “Alright.”

You look over your shoulder as you slide the chain lock back into place. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t work.”

His head is in the takeout bag as he answers, still avoiding your eyes. “I’m sore and I can’t sleep at night and everything is healing slower than I want.”

There we go.

You sit beside him. “Do your dressings need to be changed?”

“I got most of them earlier, and Jess came over to help me yesterday, but there are a few that need to wrap around and I can’t -” He stops with a huff. “I can’t reach without -”

You put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I got it.”

His jaw is tight, shaky. “Thanks.”

“First,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes, “food.”

There’s a grateful little pull of his lips as you dig in. The news is on, but you pick up the remote and change it to some ridiculous reality TV program.

“I was watching that.”

“No you weren’t.”

He wasn’t.

You avoid his exasperated eyes as you set the remote on your side of the couch - farther than he can reach without stretching.

You eat together in silence, the trainwreck on the television only marginally holding your attention. When you glance at him, you catch the side of his face twinge when he reaches for his glass of water.

“You know, not taking your pain meds doesn’t make you Captain America. It just makes you stupid, and in pain.”

He levels you with a glare.

+++

“Stop squirming.”

“Sorry.”

With gentle fingers, you tape and tuck gauze around one of the wounds on his ribs. He flinches, a little pained noise leaving his throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Your fingers flutter for a second before setting back to work. Reaching blindly behind you, you grab the roll of gauze wrapping. “Hang on for just a second - this isn’t going to feel good.”

He takes a deep breath (as deep as he can, anyway, considering his injuries), and you begin wrapping the dressing around his ribs, passing the roll from one hand to the other. He grits his teeth whenever it pulls the right amount, and your lower lip disappears between your teeth.

“I’m going to tuck it in front so you can reach it, okay?”

He nods, his eyes closed.

You’re sitting on his desk while he’s perched on the edge of his chair, his arm resting along the back - up and out of the way. This is the only place in the apartment he’s comfortable removing his shirt.

Every other room has a mirror or a big window.

“Okay, one more.”

You’ve saved the hardest one for last, but it has to go in that order. It’s the one just above his collarbone, right off the hollow of his throat, that needs the most attention and frequent changes.

You tip his chin with the tip of your finger, giving you more space to work.

Gingerly pulling at the tape, you remove the soiled dressing. Aaron’s breath comes as deep as he can through his teeth. When it quickens, you stop.

You readjust so he can keep his head where it is and you can sit in his eye line. He meets your eyes with a tight jaw.

“What can I do, Aaron?”

He closes his eyes again and tilts his head further to the side. “Just keep going.”

The tears come unbidden into your eyes as you continue your work, but your hands and breath are steady. You can hear him match his breath to yours and you’re thankful for your relative composure.

The wound still looks wretched - angry and red and black and blue and weeping - but it’s not infected.

You hold a towel up and he gingerly presses it to his chest while you reach for the wound wash, hiding your face from him.

“Thirty seconds, thirty seconds,” you assure him. “Do you want me to count?”

He shakes his head. “Just do it.”

You shoot a gentle stream of the solution across the open tissue, held together by more stitches than you want to count, both internal and external. Anguished noises leave his chest through his teeth and you know he’s trying to suppress them with unsteady breath. His eyes are shut impossibly tight, and you can see unauthorized tears gathering in the corners.

This is always the hardest part, and you’ve never gotten through it without crying. You hate how much he hurts. It’s like you can feel it yourself, the sting, the bone-deep ache, the throbbing.

Tears fall down your cheeks, some landing on your shirt and others wandering down your throat.

Even then, he knows you don’t pity him.

If he thought that, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him.

You wash and dab, wash and dab, until the wound is clean and fluid-free, apologizing the whole time. You throw both the wash and gauze to the side and reach for fresh wrapping while swiping at your eyes.

Fuck.

“Just a second.”

You’ve touched your face, so now you have to wash your hands. Again. You leave him and go into the kitchen, wash and dry your hands, and return to him.

He catches your eyes before you settle back down. There’s something behind his eyes you can’t name, and it sends something flying around your body.

You always feel a little guilty for your tears, but he understands. He thought for a moment, in the beginning, about what he would do if the situation was reversed.

After scant seconds of consideration, he had decided he could never be as composed as you, as vulnerable and open as you. He could never offer to clean and dress your wounds - the thought of causing you pain of any sort, even helpful pain, was unbearable.

Besides that, he would be so angry that you were hurt at all and wouldn’t be able to keep his hands steady.

At the very least, he would probably scare you with the intensity of his fury. Anyone who ever laid a hand on you would be subject to a wrath comparable to that of God.

And Aaron’s mom is Catholic, so he would know.

There is not a moment where he takes your execution of this particular task for granted. He knows how difficult it is. He thinks, perhaps, that this is the bravest act of love he’s ever seen.

But could you love him?

Love?

No.

Too old. Too broken. Too divorced. Too married to work. Too poor a father. Too many other things that make me wholly undeserving.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, subject you to himself.

He’s satisfied loving you in silence. He’d done it for a while now, he realized, after his conversation with Haley.

It would have to be enough.

It would have to be enough to watch you carry on with your joyful, vibrant life.

It would have to be enough to watch your face light up for someone who loves you, who puts a ring on your finger and makes you happy.

It would have to be enough to spoil your children if and when you became a parent, to hold the title ‘Uncle Aaron’ instead of ‘Dad.’

It would have to be enough to know you would outlive him and die loved.

It would have to be enough.

You pick up your tools again, using three fingertips this time to tip his head to the side at the temple. He almost smiles.

“What?”

He shakes his head the barest amount and raises his eyebrows. “Nothing.”

With a roll of your still-watery eyes, you get back to work, folding and pressing the gauze to the wound with a light, even pressure. You try to ignore Aaron’s hiss as the smile dissolves off his face, replaced by restraint and pain.

Holding the pad in place with one hand, you take the tape, hanging the roll on your thumb while you pull with your other hand. You tape all around the perimeter of it, gently warming the adhesive against his skin.

“Alright. Almost done.”

You have him hold the end right under the wound while you stand to better get around him. Once, like a sash, around his shoulder and across his back and under his other arm, once around his ribs, repeat.

Again, you tear and tuck it in front so he can reach, and gently pat it into place.

When it’s low-profile enough to disappear under his shirt -

“Finished.”

You turn and gather everything into the little bin that lives under his bathroom counter before he can say anything. He watches you, and you can feel his eyes at your back.

The first time you came to visit after he got home, he was worried you’d look at him differently, was worried you’d pity him.

He shouldn’t have.

You showed up at the door looking at him just the same way you always did. He wasn’t sure quite what way that was, exactly, but it was the same.

The first time you offered to help him with his dressings, he refused outright. It was only when you saw that a wound on his left side had ripped a little and bled through his shirt that you wrestled him down and took care of it.

Harder still than exposing his pain? Taking off his shirt. You’d reached for the top button the first time and he flinched like he’d been burned.

He refused to meet your eyes.

“What on earth are you so afraid of?”

He opened his mouth as if he was going to raise his voice at you, but then snapped it shut, his jaw working. His eyes were trained on the carpet.

“Hey.”

He looked at you somewhat reluctantly.

“It’s just me.”

I know, he thought, that’s the problem.

“This,” you gesture to his general torso area, “is not going to scare me or freak me out. What does freak me out, however -” You point at him with a packet of sterile gauze. “- is the thought of you trying to do this on your own, ripping your stitches, you not going back to the hospital, getting infected, going septic, and having a generally bad time.”

He finally speaks, the barest bit of sarcasm in his tone. “That’s quite a reach, isn’t it?”

You shoot him a withering look. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me you’d willingly go back to get your stitches fixed every time you ripped them, I’ll leave you alone.”

He won't meet your eyes again, looking like a guilty child as his eyes wander to the corner of the room with a bit of a squint.

You made your point rather elegantly.

You pass him his shirt over your shoulder and he takes it, slipping his arms into the sleeves.

His ridiculous number of button ups were coming in handy, especially considering the increased risk of stains. You’ve soaked more shirts in peroxide in the last week than you care to count.

Occupational hazard, I guess.

You pick up the little bin and take it back into the bathroom, your fingers tracing over the framed photos of Haley and Jack in the hall as you pass.

There’s one of you and Haley, too, at some sort of summer function where you were all together. If you aren’t mistaken, Jess took the photo as you and Haley lounged in lawn chairs, laughing.

Another one of the two of you sits on the dresser in Aaron’s bedroom. You’ve never seen it.

It’s another Jess-capture. Haley has Jack in her arms, kissing him on one cheek with a smile while you press a kiss to the other, eyes shut tight. One of your hands rests lightly on Haley’s arm, the other makes bunny ears over Jack’s head. The boy’s face is all crinkled like he hates it, but Aaron knows that photo was bookended by a screech of laughter and many, many giggles.

+++

You bounce into the office in the morning, looking no worse for wear even after spending the night on Aaron’s couch.

Hey, it’s a comfortable couch.

The pair of you stayed out on the couch watching bad movies far later than you meant to, but it’s alright.

Not the first time that’s happened.

You could neither confirm nor deny that Aaron slept, but you saw, through his open bedroom door, that he was still and quiet for most of the night.

“You look chipper this morning,” Penelope notes.

You shrug. “I slept well last night.”

“How’s Hotch?” Emily asks.

You make a little wavering noise. “About how you’d expect, but alright.”

It’s later in the day when Dave pulls you aside and thanks you, wrapping you in his arms.

You lean into him and you’re almost frustrated, but not surprised, when tears press at your eyes again. It seems you’re made of them, these days.

“We’re so lucky to have you.”

You shake your head, burrowing into his shoulder. “Other way around.”

He pulls back and kisses you on the cheek, patting your other one affectionately before offering his hand to you. “Agree to disagree?”

You roll your eyes and shake on it.

“Sure, Dave. Sure.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #aaron hotchner fanfiction #a joyful future #shut up tali #a joyful future fanfic

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

Take This Road

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For road trip. You've taken an unusual turn in your road trip, and your new passenger is the primary cause.

Warnings: casual discussions of arson and murder

Posted: 07/31/2021

Tags: Jungkook x reader, sort of mafia au? sort of gang au?, road trip au

idk what genre this is: 1,503 words

A/N: This one was really fun

Too many snacks.

You had too many snacks for one person.

So...was it fate that brought your passenger?

Or was it the fact that he shoved someone under your tires as you were driving past?

“So...remind me again where we’re going to dump this body?” You asked.

“He’s not dead.”

“Yet.”

“Yet. If he does die...well, there’s a nice floating bog not too far from where I live that could work. Or I could use him as a decoy body in a housefire.”

“Oooh, I know this one,” You chirped, turning the volume up and singing along with the radio.

Your passenger, the one that wasn’t dying, was soon singing with you.

It did strike you that maybe you shouldn’t be so casual about the fact that you were transporting a dying person with the person who had tried to kill him using your vehicle, but honestly...you kind of were guessing that the guy you ran over may or may not have been abusive and you didn’t really feel like asking.

“Such a good song,” Your passenger sighed. “Oh, I don’t think I told you, but I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Jungkook, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry to change your plans.”

“No problem, really. I was kind of bored. If you want any snacks, feel free to grab any. Any but the chocolate covered pretzels. Those are mine and I will shove you under my tires.”

“Understood. So, should I explain why I tried to kill him?”

“I mean, if you like. Do I need to turn here?”

“No, it’ll be the next one. So, that guy is actually a loan shark. Except, when you can’t pay in cash, he takes people.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah. I was hoping he’d be helpful and tell me where he sent my friends, but...well….” He glanced back as the other man began to groan softly. “Oh. He’s waking up.”

“You tied him up, right?”

“Yeah. I owe you a roll of duct-tape and some zip-ties.”

“Don’t worry about the zip-ties. I’m not really even sure why I had them. Anyway, he took your friends?”

“Yeah. So I’ve been trying to track them down ever since. And then he told me tonight that one of them had died before he even sold them and I guess I saw red.”

“Well, I’d be concerned if you thought my car was purple or green.”

“True,” He tried a few different snacks before settling in with one. “Anyway, if he died, no big. If he lives and tells me what happened to them, awesome. I’ve got enough leads to carry on without him if I have to. What about you? You’re taking all of this surprisingly well.”

“He kind of struck me as an abusive bastard, to be honest. And that’s while looking at him half-dead on the road. But nah, I’m just sort of wandering around. I recently quit my job, and I’ve been on a road trip in the interim before my next job starts.”

“What’s your new job?”

“I’m working for Taiji International. Personal secretary to one of the higher-ups.”

“Isn’t that the one with suspected Mafia affiliations?”

“Possibly. I could probably poke around and see if they have any idea about your friends for you.”

“That’d be cool.” He sighed. “It looks like he might live.”

“Have you ever been to Keirishiro?”

“No. My parents always told me it was full of Mafias and gangs.”

“Exactly. He’s probably affiliated with some group. Which means they’re probably after you.”

“Probably….”

“So, we put him in your place and burn it down. They’ll find out it’s him, no problem, and then there’s just the question of where you went. No one would expect someone so wholly unconnected to you to be hiding you, or helping you.”

“But the fire….”

“Is the easy part. Frito’s bag near some outlet or appliance. Leaves no trace. Set these aside.” You pulled the bag up and tossed it at him.

“What about your road-trip?”

“Oh, I thought we could go to Keirishiro after burning your place down. That’s where my job is. You can stay with me. We’ll work on disguises for you, and I’ll find out if my work is associated with a Mafia or not. Then we can go from there. Hopefully they’re not associated with this piece of work.”

“You grew up in the Mafia, didn’t you?”

“Nah. I just spent way too much time working customer service.”

“Oh, I love this song,” He turned the radio up again, jamming to the song on the radio.

You thought the trip ahead of you would be quite pleasant with Jungkook for company.

“We’re going to pretend we’re dating, right?”

You hummed. “Actually, we might need to pretend we’re married. I sort of lied and said I was getting ready to be married which was why I wanted so much time before I started this job.” You rolled your eyes. “I was just going to say, ‘oh, it fell through and I was so heartbroken’ but a fake marriage would suffice.”

“Okay. Sounds good to me. With any luck, even if people know about me they may not know what I look like, so I might be able to pass as someone else. Then I’ll be sure to sell the part. And when the time comes, we split amicably.”

“Works for me. Go fifty-fifty on chores?”

“Mmmm, sixty-forty, I might not be able to swing as much for rent as you.”

“Ah. Between jobs?”

“Kind of. Something about endangering coworkers.”

“Oof. Yeah. We’ll see if we can find someone to forge an identity for you, that way you can get a job if it’s safe to show your face.”

“I might know a place. Got any CD’s?”

“CD player is broken and the last CD put in was a kids CD. Don’t touch the CD player. On the one hand, I know twenty children's songs. On the other hand, I would like to throttle whoever broke the CD player because I know twenty children’s songs.”

“Got any drinks?”

“In the cooler, behind your seat.”

“Ah!” He unbuckled and reached around, getting drinks for both of you. “I’m thinking: maybe instead of burning my place we just clean it out and dump him in the bog, whether dead or alive. That way we don’t draw unnecessary attention to me.”

“Fair. Okay. Then where am I going?”

“Stay on this road for another...five miles?”

“Map in the glove-box.”

He pulled it out, unfolding it and taking a few moments to gather his bearings. “Yeah, about five miles, I think. It’ll be the third road on the left.”

“Okay. Feel free to mess with the temp controls, I tend to keep things cooler than they need to be.”

“I’m good. Might channel surf, though,” He said, waiting until you had nodded to start trying other stations on the radio.

“You have a license?”

“Definitely.”

“Great. We can take turns driving, then.”

“Works for me.”

“Uuaaaghhhh...wh--what?”

You glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Oh dear.”

Jungkook quickly got up to deal with the passenger. “Didn’t expect him to wake up.”

You sighed. “Poor soul, he just didn’t know what hit him.”

“Better than he deserves,” Jungkook muttered, holding up a notebook. “I forgot to mention, I got his ledger from him. There are lots of names in here.”

“Ugh. A bog is almost too good for him.”

“Almost,” Jungkook agreed, sliding back into his seat. “You understand the danger we’re getting into, right?”

“Yeah. I do.” You gestured to your backpack. “Front pocket, there’s a bag with some jewelry in it. There should be two rings. They were my parents. But they’ll do.”

He followed your instructions, pulling them out. He slipped your father’s onto his ring finger. “Fits well. Here you are, my wife.”

“Why, thank you, husband,” You said, taking your mother’s ring and slipping it onto your ring finger.

“So...what happened to them?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, they’re fine, but my father can’t wear rings because they make his fingers swell and my mom broke her ring finger so her ring didn’t fit anymore. They tattooed rings on their fingers instead.”

“Ah. So...your family is alive...and you’re still okay with this?”

You considered what to tell him. “My parents are private investigators.”

“So, this is….”

“Definitely not something they would want me doing. They’ve never been a fan of me sticking my nose into dangerous situations. But...you know. When both of your parents are private investigators….”

“It’s in your blood. Cool. I’ll follow your lead then.” He smiled, kind of peeking down at the ring. “I’ll be a supportive husband.”

“And I will be a loving wife,” You answered, sharing a smile with him. “This could be a lot of fun.”

“It really could.” Jungkook grinned and leaned back in his seat, staring at the road ahead. “Next road.”

“Right.”

You looked forward to where this journey led you.

#btswritingbingo #jungkook x reader #road trip au #jungkook #jeon jungkook

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Text

The Grass is Greener pt.2/3

CW: Still shitty parents being shitty.

Jaskier was pacing around the living room. If the carpet was any good he probably would have been wearing a hole in it, as it was the carpet was coarse and worn down already. He was practicing his guitar fingering on his thighs, a nervous habit he’d picked up years ago and had never managed to shake.

Geralt, lovely, gorgeous, ever patient, Geralt was sitting on the sofa with Ciri babbling away in his arms, watching Jaskier have a little bit of a breakdown.

“What’s the time?” Jaskier asked for the thousandth time.

“Approximately three minutes after the last time you asked.” Geralt chuckled and bounced Ciri on his knee.

Jaskier turned to glare at his new pretend boyfriend, and maybe hopefully future real boyfriend. Well, he meant to glare. What actually happened was that he got lost in Geralt’s stunning amber eyes that were looking at him with such affection and amusement…

It was going to be hard to forget that they weren’t actually dating if Geralt kept looking at him like that, but Jaskier reminded himself that Geralt was just getting into character already. Jaskier supposed he should do the same.

“How long have we got?” He asked.

“She’s due at four?”

Jaskier nodded and chewed on his lip.

“About twenty minutes.” Geralt grunted. “Sit down, Jaskier.”

Geralt’s voice left no room for argument so he did. He plopped himself down cross-legged on the carpet where he was standing.

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. “On the sofa.”

Jaskier blushed. “Right, yes. Of course.” He scrambled up to join Geralt on the sofa, keeping a safe distance away from him.

He didn’t want to assume anything just because they were fake dating.

Geralt hummed. “I don’t bite.”

“Pity.” Jaskier heard himself saying before he could stop himself. “I didn’t mean that!” He buried his head in his hands.

Geralt just laughed. “I don’t bite unless you ask nicely.”

Jaskier wanted to die.

He was pretty sure this was how he was going to die.

He groaned and hide behind a pillow. “Geralt!”

“What? You’re my boyfriend. I’m allowed to say things like that.”

Jaskier’s heart felt like it was going to explode. “Geralt!” He whined.

“You started it.” Geralt reminded him.

“Yeah well, I didn’t mean to.” He snapped. “Oh god, how are we going to convince my mother this is real?”

Geralt hummed. “Hold Ciri?”

“What?” Jaskier stared at his new friend, and yes they were using friend now. Only a friend would agree to this nonsense.

“When your mother arrives.” Geralt added. “And you’ll probably have to kiss me.”

Jaskier’s brain drifted as he pictured that. He had imagined kissing Geralt far too often and now the man was sitting in his house, on his sofa, and talking so frankly about them kissing as if it were the normal thing to do. God he wished it were their normal.

“We should practise!” He blurted out.

Geralt scoffed. “Practise?”

“Yes! It makes sense!” He grinned at Geralt and waved his hands at Ciri. “Go put her in her cot or something.”

“Shouldn’t we work on a backstory?” Geralt asked not moving.

“We’ve been dating for six months. You asked me out when you gave me a lift to work that time and we went to an open mic night for our first date. At the end of the night you kissed me and I’ve been in love with you ever since.” Jaskier explained hurriedly. “Now kiss me!”

Geralt still didn’t move. He stared at Jaskier with narrow eyes, his gaze so intense that Jaskier felt like all the air was being sucked out of the room. He licked his lips and tilted his head at Geralt. “What?”

“You’ve thought about it.” Geralt stated.

Fuck.

He supposed he had come up with that rather quickly. Luckily he was used to making up shit for his songs and poems.

“Geralt,” He sighed and patted the mechanic on the shoulder that Ciri wasn’t resting on. “I’m an artist! Stories are my trade, I simply just muddled the truth around. Easy as pie!”

Geralt hummed and stood up.

Jaskier leaned to watch Geralt as he moved over to Ciri’s cot, Jaskier’s mouth suddenly felt dry and he was fairly certain he was about to have a heart attack. “Geralt? Where are you going?”

Geralt didn’t answer. Instead he gently put Ciri down in the travel cot that he’d brought over. She squealed a little as he attached the rattle toys on the bar across her lap but settled down quickly.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked again, more quietly this time as Geralt stalked back across the room, never taking his eyes away from Jaskier.

Jaskier’s heart was racing, he was almost sure that Geralt must be able to hear it. He could feel it in his chest, right down to the tips of his fingers. His tongue flicked out between his lips in anticipation and he smirked when he noticed Geralt’s gaze drop down to his lips. God, this was actually going to happen. Geralt was going to kiss him. He shuffled forward so he was on the edge of his seat. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the air crackle between them and Geralt leant down to kiss him.

Jaskier kissed back with as much passion as he could muster. This may just be the only chance he would have to kiss Geralt and he was not going to waste a single second. He gripped onto Geralt’s t-shirt, hoping to prolong the moment for as long as he possibly could.The kiss deepened, Jaskier parting his lips instinctively to let Geralt’s tongue explore his mouth. Geralt tasted like sweet coffee and there was a small part of Jaskier’s mind that panicked. Should he have brushed his teeth first? or had a mint, that was what people did he films right?

But Geralt’s hands were in his hair and all doubts left him. Their noses bumped slightly as Geralt moved closer to him. Jaskier couldn’t help the moan that escape his lips. Geralt pulled away with one last bite to Jaskier’s lower lip that made him feel weak at the knees.

“Practice enough for you?” Geralt smirked as he brushed his thumb along Jaskier’s cheek.

Jaskier was breathless, not to mention speechless. He nodded, blinking up at Geralt and wondering what the fuck had happened to his life?

This was probably all some ridiculously realistic dream, right?

Geralt rolled his eyes and went back over to pick Ciri up.

Jaskier shamelessly let his gaze drop to watch Geralt’s arse as he walked away, like the man had said they were boyfriends now, he was allowed to do that.

He swallowed as the power of speech came flying back to him. “Well, I think that went rather well, don’t you think?” He raised an eyebrow at Geralt and flashed what he hoped was his most charming smile. Geralt hummed, which Jaskier took for agreement. “At least we don’t have to worry about chemistry.” He mused.

Geralt didn’t reply. He just handed Ciri to Jaskier. Jaskier squeaked but took the baby in his arms. She was still babbling away and reached out to Geralt with tiny little hands. Jaskier peered down at the tiny human and chewed his lip. God, she was so fragile, so tiny. She watched the world around her with an intelligence in her eyes that surprised him. He’d not spent much time around children before, he’d just assumed babies were just, well, a bit useless? And it had been a few weeks since he’d seen Ciri, she hadn’t been nearly as alert before.

She had more personality now. She clearly loved her father and she was not best pleased to be dumped in Jaskier’s arms and started to whine, not quite a cry but definitely not happy baby noises. Jaskier cooed at her and caught her little fingers in his hands. She gripped onto his finger and stared up at him with the most adorable pout.

“She’s amazing.” He whispered as he stared back.

Geralt hummed. He was watching them both with a peculiar expression.

“Yeah.” He grunted.

Jaskier laughed. How was it that the man could go from unbearably charming one moment to completely ineloquent the next? And why did Jaskier find it so endearing?

He opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by the door bell ringing.

“Oh shit!”

He ran to the door, balancing Ciri awkwardly in his arms. “Geralt can you make sure there’s wine in the fridge?” He called back as he reached the door.

“What kind?”

“Any!” He groaned and then plastered a faker-than-his-boyfriend smile on his face. “Mother!” He greeted the woman the door.

She scowled at him, then at baby Ciri, which was just rude, and swept into the house like the hurricane that she was. “Julian, why are you holding a baby? Babysitting, I assume. I always knew that you weren’t cut out to be a musician.”

“Mother!” He pouted. “This is Ciri. I’m not babysitting, actually there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh Julian, you didn’t get a poor girl pregnant? I assume you asked her to marry you. Where is she?” She asked sharply and Jaskier was approximately ten seconds away from matricide when Geralt came out of the kitchen.

His long hair was still tied up in a bun, but now he had a tea towel draped over his shoulder and he looked suspiciously like he’d been doing washing up… but Jaskier was certain he’d finished all of that before they’d started on the garden. Still it all felt so domestic all of a sudden, like Geralt was meant to be in his house, in his life, doing the washing up to help clear up before meeting his mother.

He smiled soppily at his not boyfriend and then turned back to his mother feeling a lot more chipper than he had before.

He really just needed to focus on not getting his heart broken. He was pretty certain that it was already too late for that.

God, Geralt was just so handsome and now he was kind as well. It was quite frankly, not fair!

“Mrs Pankratz?” Geralt asked with a half smile.

Wait. Since when did Geralt know his surname? When had he told him that? God it must have been when they moved into the house over a year ago!

His mother looked stunned and nodded. “And you are?”

“Geralt Rivia. Jaskier’s boyfriend.” Geralt reached out to shake her hand.

Ciri squealed in Jaskier’s arm. “Oh hey now, buttercup. It’s just my mother.” He cooed. “Did you want to go back to your dad?”

Ciri cried again and gripped onto his shirt.

“Alrighty, not just yet then.” He laughed and grinned up at Geralt.

Geralt walked over, gently stroked the fine blonde hair on Ciri’s hair and then kissed Jaskier’s cheek. His heart flipped in his chest and he leant into Geralt’s side. “Geralt.” He whined with a pout and buried his face against Geralt’s shoulder. “Not in front of my mother.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him.

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” His mother peered at him with sharp blue eyes that were so similar to his yet full of ice and steel.

Geralt growled. “Clearly, he does.”

“Julian would never keep it from me.” His mother’s voice had risen to a shrill squeak and Ciri began to cry.

Jaskier panicked and began to sing, rocking the girl in his arms. Ciri’s cries settled into more of a distressed whine but it was a start.

“And yet, here I am.” Geralt stared down at his mother with a fierce expression. “I wondered why he didn’t want me to meet you. It’s starting to become clear.”

“Ah Geralt, let’s not cause a fuss.” Jaskier hummed. “Dinner! I was thinking we could order in. I know you’ve never really liked my cooking, Mother.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t make an effort for your mother.” She spat back and stalked out the room, probably to go and inspect the rest of the house.

Geralt stared at the door after her with a thunderous expression. “What the fuck, Jaskier?”

“Geralt Rivia. Meet my mother!” He announced with a wave of one arm, he was getting the hang of this carrying a baby lark.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that.” Geralt growled.

Jaskier nodded with a sigh, bouncing Ciri in his arms and she started to giggle again. “She’s my mother.”

Geralt scowled. “You were going to do this alone?”

Jaskier nodded. “I didn’t think I had a choice, but I’m glad you’re here. You didn’t have to do this, any of this. We barely know each other.”

Geralt’s scowl was now ever-present. “I wanted to. You’re… a good neighbour.”

Jaskier sighed.

A good neighbour. Not even a friend.

He’d promised Geralt he wouldn’t fall in love with him, which he guessed he wasn’t technically breaking seeing as he’d sort of maybe been in love with him for months already.

“Come on then.” He took Geralt’s hand as if they were the partners that they were pretending to be. “Let’s go charm my mother.”

Geralt grunted, clearly not convinced. Jaskier just laughed.

“This was your idea, Geralt. No backsies!”

“Fuck.”

_____

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #jaskier pankratz #jaskier #fake dating #geralt/jaskier #jaskier x geralt #the grass is greener #wolfie's witcher writing #I tried to tag people that asked for part 2 #but i wasn't able to tag everyone

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mondayrobot · 3 years

Text

Year-End Fanfiction List (M)

This year has opened me to so many fan-fictions. Here are the list of EM fan-fictions that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this year.

Warning: The contents contain adult themes.

Rating: Mature

a royal weakness ( liquorisce ) @liquorisce

In everyone else’s eyes, she was just his Commander, the Silver Lady, the first woman to take control over the entire King’s fleet. But to him she was so much more, the girl who’d been by his side for the longest time, his most trusted companion… His lover.

Abditive ( Blanca21 )

It was a countless time he heard them calling her cold-blooded and heartless.In his mind, she was anything except those words.

All I need ( liquorisce ) @liquorisce

This fic features long time lovers Eren and Mikasa, their bid to make their own family, and in that process discovering what family really means.

and i am a smiling woman ( orphan_account )

and they have longed for each other; mourned for each other.

Big Bad World ( MyTARDISsenseIsTingling ) @my-tardis-sense-is-tingling

What if Eren hadn't gotten there to rescue Mikasa in time?

Broken Down ( miikasaa )

It's in the dead of night, with innumerable regrets and dead faces haunting them, that Eren and Mikasa use each other's bodies to chase away the horrors of a failed mission. It never works, they know this all too well, but it doesn't stop them from trying.

Come to Me, My Sweetest Friend ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in an Alternative Modern Day Universe where Mikasa and Eren grew up as neighbors with both their parents still alive.

Degrees of Sleeplessness ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

“To share in the night’s quiet loneliness, a companion for the vast hours of sleeplessness, is, perhaps, all they’ve ever wanted.” Two teachers at the local high school, Eren and Mikasa, in the midst of work and home-life, find themselves indubitably and inescapably drawn to one another.

Elysian ( miikasaa )

Collection of works showing Eren and Mikasa's relationship in canon, post-canon, and modern settings.

Feels Like Home ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

Even when their homes were a thing of the long past, they always found a home in the comfort of each other.

Games ( miikasaa )

Restless after beginning their days as trainees, the 104th decide to relax a bit by playing strip poker. It goes about as well as anyone can imagine.

Girls and Boys ( Lindsey (Lipstick) )

A collection of one-shots depicting the relationship between Eren and Mikasa in various ways.

Happy Anniversary ( blehbleehhhh )

It's Eren and MIkasa's second anniversary. Things get kinky after returning home from dinner.

How to Coexist ( spoilerarlert ) @spoilerarlert

Rent in NYC is ridiculous, but by a stroke of luck, Mikasa manages to snag an apartment for mindblowingly cheap rates. However, upon moving in, she discovers, to her horror, that her roommate Eren was a past one-night stand. In which two twenty-somethings struggle to shrug aside their misgivings, not to mention diffuse a helluva lotta sexual tension—for the sake of affordable rent.

I Bet My Life For You ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in the canon universe within the story line, or were predictions for future chapters at the time, focusing on Eren and Mikasa.

I'll Take You Back Where You Belong ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in an Alternative Modern Day Universe where Eren saved Mikasa as children from a home invasion that killed her parents and caused her to live with her much older brother Levi.

I'm Gonna Be the Man Whose Coming Home to You ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

Still determined to keep things normal after a twist in their relationship, Eren and Mikasa still go through with their plans to take a road trip to the the Jaeger's beach house with Armin, Connie, Sasha, and Jean their summer after their first year of college. Their friends are weary of everyone being crammed in a car with them at close proximity, but they soon learn not all is as it seems (and that there are far more awkward things to deal with in close spaces).

Kaleidoscopes ( Kaekiro ) @kaekiro

A collection of stories that will follow Eren and Mikasa through various AUs.

Keeping Warm ( lionhart )

Eren and Mikasa’s first time.

king, lover, hold me tight ( artsycat )

Mikasa, as one of the heroes that single-handedly ensured the victory of Eldia against Marley during the war, must now use her newfound status to marry Eren, judged as a traitor in the eyes of Eldia, in order to ensure his protection.

Kiss With a Fist ( DenDenSushi, Lyssala ) @lyssala

It's always a normal day at school when an Apocalypse decides to descend. One minute Eren is trying to pass his chemistry class & the next he's wielding a baseball bat against bodies trying to bite him. Along with Mikasa & Armin, they are forced into a world where all it takes is one bite & you're dead.

Lawless ( kuchenackerman ) @kuchenackerman

Despite his youth, Eren Jaeger is one of the best and most required doctors of the Kingdom. Among those interested on his services is included a recognized criminal clan, which does not hesitate to use the youngest of the Ackerman as bait. Eren never imagined that this "harmless" girl in red dress would get him into so much trouble.

Lullabies in the Night ( happymikasa ) @happymikasa

People's voices sound quite beautiful when they sing, hum, or tweet. Mikasa discovered that after the defeat of the Titans.

Eren's voice is the most powerful though. Especially when he takes her to bed at night.

Lulls in the Sea ( dialectus ) @dialectus

"Lull: a temporary interval of quiet or lack of activity."

milk and honey ( bbyunnie ) @moonguks

a series of oneshots centered around eren and mikasa, across variant universes and situations.

OFFSIDE ( La_Ultima_00 )

Eren returns home and meets someone unexpected. After so long, his poor heart has not forgotten her.

Peace time ( almost_certain )

Eren and Mikasa haven't spoken since the last battle. Perhaps they can be civil long enough for their friends to tie the knot.

Reason for Dreaming ( mikasuhdude ) @mikasuhdude

Mikasa and Armin have known each other for the past three years, having the same college major and all. It's traditional of them to study in Mikasa's dorm with her stoner roommate, Sasha. One afternoon, they opt to study in Armin's apartment, and that's where she meets his roommate. He's a fiery guy, interrupting their study session by loudly cursing over a mustard-stained shirt and a family-owned restaurant.

Reckless Roses ( mikasuhdude ) @mikasuhdude

Not every couple is blessed with fertility.

Ruins In Bloom ( miikasaa )

Three years after the eradication of the Titans, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and a few other survivors are ready to settle down in the free world. Finished with their travels and free from the oppression of the Titans, they're ready to begin their new lives. However, as each of the veterans knows, somethings are impossible to bury completely in the past. Scars will never completely heal, and sometimes, leaving behind a lifetime of warfare is unattainable.

Mikasa wishes for the domestic life she's always craved, and with Armin and Eren by her side, she thinks she'll finally get it. But the sudden change proves to be too much for Eren, and to her horror, he leaves. He leaves her behind, leaves everyone behind, and leaves her to deal with a change in her life she never wanted to experience on her own.

Say You'll Stay With Me ( miikasaa )

Sometimes it was enough simply to be with Mikasa, to hold her close, to hear her heart and know that they'd survived one more day together. And sometimes, she needed to be closer, to let him help her to forget the terror they witness every day.

Seasons of the Sea ( Lindsey (Lipstick) )

At the age of twenty-three, Mikasa gives birth to their first child – a small, tiny little girl – in their home by the sea, built after the defeat of the titans. An hour later, Eren disappears for three days, only a kiss on her forehead prior to signal his departure.

set in stone ( Beatingheartanthem )

Eren is jostled around by time, experiencing and re-experiencing different moments with Mikasa. Some choices made are the same. Some choices made are different. He knows he's going to die, but he'd like a moment of peace before he does.

So, then— ( Beatingheartanthem )

Over the past two years, Mikasa and Armin have grown estranged from their childhood friend. With a new girlfriend, new friends, Eren Jaeger is a person they don't quite know. Senior year: With graduation around the corner, Eren disappears forever. Now Mikasa wonders if things could've been different. In every version of history, in every universe, every path taken, is his fate set in stone?

the rivers song ( artsycat )

Mikasa has always dreamt about life afterwards.

Under the brine ( milkywaywide ) @milkywaywide

But Eren is still in her. And she can’t shake the utter alienation she feels, so bad it almost feels like an out of body experience, like a weird dream, like she’s drowning.

vermillion ( sionnacha )

Eren’s mouth tastes of blood—like putrid liquefied iron, and still, she cannot stop herself from diving in for more. Even though the earth around them is scorched, even though there is rubble and ash everywhere she looks, all she wants his him.

Washed-Up and Rundown ( spoilerarlert ) @spoilerarlert

Levi, a washed-up ex-journalist working a dead-end custodian job, finds himself transplanted into a suburban neighborhood, serving as the legal guardian of his sixteen-year-old second cousin, twice removed, Mikasa. There, he struggles to navigate the dynamic of this two-person household and in the midst locks horns with the local pain-in-the-ass: a teenager a few houses down the street by the name of Eren Jaeger.

We'll Go Home and Start Again ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in Alternative Universes of many varieties featuring Eren and Mikasa.

When You Break ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

"And when he kisses her, she can immediately tell that tonight is no different than the others." Eren and Mikasa seek shelter from the memories that haunt them in each other's arms. Mikasa comes to realize that you can't always kiss away the pain.

With You, I Am Home ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

A collection of drabbles following Eren and Mikasa's relationship through various scenarios.

#eremika #tbd #fanfiction #writing

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llendrinall · 3 years

Note

Here's a prompt for you.

Draco and Harry are dating and taking it slow (no one is aware & they started dating after the both of them had begun to go to therapy and heal a bit) and while they've together for a year (now its not somethin that either of them hide but they also dont go out and pronounce anything) they find an orphanage in the muggle world and they hang out with the kids and end up falling inlove with between 1-4 of the kids over time and both the Weasley's and Malfoy's find out about their relationship when they show up with their newly adopted child/ren.

"I thought you knew we were together"

"We thought you were becoming friends Harry!"

Draco saw the kid first. Not that it matters, but Harry claims that it was all his idea when, in truth, Draco saw the kid first and immediately knew what was going to happen. This is Harry, after all. Draco could have distracted Harry, insist they took the other exit of the restaurant, anything. But he did none of that because (don’t tell anyone this) Draco Malfoy might have a heart of his own and he was curious about the kid sitting under a lamppost with a book.

His names is Liam and he was doing homework. There is a lounge in the orphanage where, theoretically, children can do their homework. But the place is very noisy and there are some older kids who pick on Liam. Unless it’s raining heavily, Liam prefers to be outside where he can have some peace. He could go to the library and he usually takes refuge there, but it closes early on Fridays.

They had just had dinner, but they go back to the restaurant so Liam can work at a table where is warm and well lighted. The waitress gets Liam extra bacon in his sandwich and doesn’t charge them for it.

Harry surprises Draco because he doesn’t immediately take Liam with him, even though it’s clear that’s what he wants to do. He does say he would like to visit Roberta Clark’s Children Home and looks softly pleased when Draco says he will go with him.

They have been together for almost a year now, soft and tentative and careful because they both want this and are afraid to ruin it with a false step. They have just started to talk about living arrangements, although in a very vague way. Tonight, however, Draco begins a ruthless campaign against Harry’s house which is well located in London, yes, but it doesn’t have a garden unlike Draco’s house in Virginia Water, and it has one less room than Draco’s (not accounting for the music room), and it’s very dark. Draco can’t imagine children growing up happy here. Poor Sirius. And poor Regulus.

Harry is pissed, which is further proof that he needs Draco in his life because, Morgana, is he easy to read and manipulate.

That Thursday the two of them visit Roberta Clark’s Children Home where they are welcomed by the rudest social worker to ever plague the Earth. The deputy Director isn’t much better. She doesn’t like it when Harry points they have mold on the walls, all twenty-three times.

(This is one of the many reasons Draco loves him. For a hero of the light, Harry is a terror).

Draco walked in there knowing fully well they were going to adopt Liam, hence his campaign for the Virginia Water’s house because no child of his will grow up in Grimmauld Place. Children who grow up in Grimmauld Place become unhappy adults who die before their time. Draco thought that maaaaybe Harry still believed he was only going to show an interest in the institution and hand them money to improve the living conditions; but Draco knew there was no way Harry would leave Liam in there. The kid is eleven! An orphan! Harry can lie to himself all he wants. He will be Liam’s legal father inside a month.

What Draco didn’t expect was to get a child of his own.

Her name is Jamie, JamieTheGirl. There is a boy named Jamie and simply Jamie, not JamieTheBoy, because Jamie is a boy’s name. This is explained to Draco in a rush, with a mixture of pain and bratty attitude that speaks to him directly. JamieTheGirl hates her name, her haircut, the horrible dress she is forced to wear and Mister Gladwell, who is the rude social worker. JamieTheGirl wanted to know if Liam is lying, because Liam said he knew them (them being Draco and Harry) but Liam is eleven and everybody knows that nobody wants kids older than ten. Seven is best. JamietheGirl is nine so she could still be adopted, but she has been informed by multiple sources that nobody will ever want her because a) she has a bad attitude, b) she has a boy’s name and c) she is not cute enough.

“My name is Draco,” is all Draco can say. He is already vowing to hunt down those multiple sources who told Jamie she was less than perfect. “It’s not a bad name but it’s not a good one either.”

JamieTheGirl agrees.

Now that they are going to adopt two children it’s all the more reason to live in the Virginia Water’s house, which has more room and a very nice garden. They can always apparate the kids to their school in London. If Harry refuses to apparate (sometimes Harry exhibits some very weird ideas about magic and luxury) Draco will get a car. Not even a magical car, and actual muggle car. He will buy one and take the kids to school. Actually, they should go tomorrow to check the house and start the arrangements.

Harry stares at Draco. He is sitting on the kitchen counter in his stupid house in Grimmauld Place, eating Chinese food from the box as if he weren’t a filthy rich man, hero of the wizarding world. Draco loves him so much.

“What do you mean adopt?” Harry says.

“Oh, like this was going to go any other way.” Draco says, rolling his eyes. If the place had merely been overcrowded and noisy Harry would have contented himself to play the benefactor role and pay for renovations. But there was mold in twenty-three spots, the social worker made Snape look charming and evidently none of the adults in charge had any idea of what the children were going through and, even worse, what they were getting up to.

Draco knows Harry. It is a mere question of how quickly they can get the paperwork ready.

“I’m still going to do something about the place.” Harry argues, of course he does. He won’t simply take a kid and forget about the rest. But he is already thinking of all the wonderful things he will teach Liam. Draco can see it in his eyes.

They get married two weeks later, for the paperwork, but in essence they got married that night when Draco laid the rest of their lives before them and Harry realized that Draco knew him better than himself and that he still wanted to be with him.

They move to the Virginia Water’s house in early January. Liam can’t believe that he has been adopted, so he takes the fact that they are both wizards in stride. The adoption is much harder to believe than the fact that people can do actual magic. Also, he has his own room. His. With a door that he can close. The fact that he doesn’t have to hide his books so they won’t be stolen takes enough of Liam’s attention that he can’t worry about such unimportant things as magic.

JamieTheGirl is both easier and harder. She is easier because she desperately wanted to be out of the Children’s Home, and harder because she is naturally distrustful and very intelligent. Not to say that Liam is not distrustful or smart, but he is old enough to be jaded. Liam expects something bad to happen and he is willing to take it. He, like Harry, is stupid enough to believe that he can take new abuse if he also gets some comfort in exchange.

(note: Draco is going to piss on Dumbledore’s grave).

The first month is difficult, but once both Liam and JamieTheGirl act out and see there are no bad consequences, that they are not beaten or returned to the Children’s Home, they settle happily. JamieTheGirl asks to have her name changed, please, she will take a constellation name if they want to, just let her have a different name. They are enrolled in a new school and Draco buys a car and hires a chauffeur who happens to be a squib and there is no need for Harry to look at him that way.

Things are good.

It’s cold outside, the garden is dry and ugly, it rains nonstop for two weeks… but everything is good and nice. If Sean were here he would have something interesting to say about it. Everything in Sean is ugly, but he knows how to take the painful things and make them sweet, and he would know how to put into words that the world outside the house is ugly right now, but it’s also nice.

Draco feels Harry go rigid at the same time as him. “Who?” Draco says calmly just as Harry asks “What?”.

Sean is an ugly case. He was adopted when he was eight but he was returned a few months later. Nobody knows why although there is a lot of speculation. He often got himself beaten in school and once by Mister Murphy (“Who?”, “It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t work there anymore”, “Give me a detailed description of Mister Murphy, please”.) He is fifteen now so nobody will adopt him and Mister Gladwell says he will amount to nothing. Despite what Mrs Oxley says (Mrs Oxley is the deputy Director) Sean is not a criminal. He goes with bad people, sure, but he never stole Liam’s books and he even showed him a couple of hiding places. He is not bad at all.

On Friday they welcome Sean home. Just at the same time Mr Gladwell, Mrs Oxley, Mr Murphy and a criminal gang from the South Bank all suffer completely coincidental and unrelated accidents.

Sean is a young criminal. He is tough and hard, actively cultivating a mean strike and horrifyingly traumatized.

He is also deeply protective of Liam and Jamie. It’s heartbreaking.

Fortunately, Harry was also deeply traumatized at his age. It’s a horrible thought to have, but for once Harry is grateful for all that pain because he knows how Sean feels, he understands, and he can help.

No, Sean can’t have a wand or try magic. Yes, he still has to go to school. No, he can’t take the car. No, no smoking and no drinking either. Come along, you are going to take fighting classes.

Which might seem counter-productive. Do not teach the young delinquent to fight, yadda, yadda. Harry spent all of his fifteen year wanting to punch someone and Sean has this freaked-out look in the eyes that says he doesn’t trust Harry or Draco and that he wants to protect Jamie and Liam. The fighting classes make him feel more in control and they mellow him. Also, by the third time Draco has a tiff and demands to talk to the headmaster about Liam’s class placement, his math grades, Jamie’s English grades, and just-what-did-that-woman-insinuate-I-swear; something visibly relaxes in Sean.

(Not even Liam knows what his Biology teacher said that upset Draco. The next week they have the lovely Miss Quintrell instead and the whole class is happy so Liam doesn’t question it).

And suddenly it’s March and Ron’s birthday and there is a celebration at the Burrow. Harry arrives with his family and a well-structured explanation of how he is now the legal father of Sean, Liam and Possibly-Berenice (they are still trying names). He is really good at it. He gives a simple step by step account of the process, with helpful asides and clarifying details, everything. There is just this one thing. A small detail, really. An assumption that is not supported by reality.

“Mate, I’m very happy for you,” Ron says. “We all are. But, you never mentioned you were dating Malfoy and I believe I speak for everyone when I say it’s a shock.”

And, to be fair, nobody can say they are actually surprised that Harry showed up with three orphans. But Malfoy, well… Malfoy is something else. They thought Harry was merely befriending him, or possibly adopting him like he tried to do with Neville. The dating thing is a big mental shift.

“We are married,” Draco says, and then, at their stares, more quietly, “it was more convenient? For the paperwork?”.

There is a lot of “Harry Potter you did not get married without telling us” and “Harry Potter how could you just get married without a ceremony” and “you know we have been developing these party fireworks how could you do this to us” and Molly red-faced, waving a finger, “did you tell your parents, young man?” and it takes everyone, everyone, thirty seconds to realize she is not addressing Harry, but Draco, and Merlin’s pants, he did not, he didn’t tell them. Draco married Harry, moved with him and adopted three kids and his father doesn’t know, which goes a long way to ingratiate Draco with everyone, because Lucius Malfoy has not heard of this.

It also has the unexpected but very welcome benefit of making Sean laugh. Liam says Sean hasn’t laughed in years.

(And of course less than a month later the three kids have a hand-knit sweater, of course they do. Possibly-Berenice’s has a pattern of stars, pending her choosing a permanent name).

#asks #harry potter #draco malfoy #verse: Harry adopting left and right #Anonymous #textpost

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Note

Would you please write a fic about alex and jo help their daughter with her homework, they would be kinds cute help them study

cross my heart, hope to die, please stick this pencil in my eye

there’s a reason this took me forever. reason number one, two, and three; proofs. i was unable to write this because of proofs. i got this ask and LIKE A CHILD decided that i wanted to make my fictional characters suffer as much as i did. so once i was done with proofs, i had to write something about proofs, which made me exhausted because i hate even talking about proofs

that made no sense, but here’s this thing that i made. lots of it was my real life monologue, screaming at my computer bc of fucking proofs. enjoy. (also, let’s appreciate the fact that i updated three whole days in a row)

(also, another installment of the “payton loves evan peters too much” series, where i name jolex babies after his AHS characters)

Alex Karev sat in the drivers side of his SUV, making a right onto the upcoming street as he listened to the song playing on the radio. He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel absentmindedly, pulling up to the curbside of James Madison Middle School, waiting patiently in his seat until he heard the five minute warning bell ring.

When the loud bell goes off, he exits the car and makes his way to the other side, learning against the door so his kids would know it was him. Too many parent’s owned black range rovers, and the last thing Alex needed was for either one of his kids to climb into the back seat of some stranger's car.

He didn’t need to wait long for children to start piling out of the school in large crowds. Middle school was so different from elementary, for his kids at least. He remembers when they would come sprinting out of the building as if their lives depended on it, but now they just casually strolled, no matter how much they liked or disliked school.

A few minutes later he catches sight of his daughter, who’s eyes light up when she sees him. He wasn’t supposed to pick them up today, the nanny was. But he had gotten off of work early and had insisted with Jo that he be the one to pick up the kids. It was a task he wished he got to do more often.

“Hey.” his daughter greets him with a smile on her face. He steps aside and lets her enter the side door, where she flops her black backpack on the floor and settles into the seat, pulling out her phone and begins to start scrolling through it.

“Dad!” he hears another voice exclaim, quickly tracing it to his son, who was currently running to the car, backpack bouncing up and down behind him. The sixth grader moved across the property quickly, greeting his dad with a fist bump before sliding into the back seat.

He closes both of his kids doors before making his way into the driver's side, revving up the car’s engine before he drives down the long block, whatever music his daughter decided on playing through the radio.

Alex winces when the music begins to blare through the car, “Brynn, turn that crap down would you?”

Brynn’s face looks scandalized. “It’s not crap. It’s art.” she emphasizes, turning it up even louder and screaming the words. (Poor Brynn couldn’t sing, and she knew it)

“I came in like a wreeckingggg ballll I never hit so harddd in loveeee all i wanted was to break your walls all you ever did wre-e-e-ck meee.” she yells, using her phone as a microphone, hair flying around wildly as she moved up and down, side to side in her seat.

Alex rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his lips. His wife and daughter were too much alike sometimes. He turns the knob himself, sending his daughter a look, silently telling her not to do it again.

“I think it’s crap. Just like how I think you sound like a dying cat whenever you sing.” his son pipes in from the back, a signature Karev smirk plastered on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on his phone.

“Shut up Rory,” she sneers, “Nobody likes you.”

Rory fakes a laugh, looking back to his phone, and then to the scenery outside his window. They passed house after house until they finally reached their destination, John Quincy Adams Elementary School.

“Wait here,” Alex instructs the two kids, who murmurs their we know’s, more focused on the devices in their hand to the words coming out of his mouth.

He makes his way to the ‘log cabin’ that sat at the front of the school, giving a friendly smile to the woman sitting at the sign out table, a crappy fold out plastic table that had definitely seen better days. “Faye and Bridgette Karev.”

The woman slides the forms across the table, handing him a pen. “Sign here and here. I’ll go get them right now.” She stands up from her seat and heads inside to tell the two girls that their father had arrived.

Alex sprawls his messy signature onto the page, huffing before leaning up against the gate. His girls could take anywhere from thirty seconds to five minutes to pack up their things. Luckily today didn’t seem to be the latter, because before he knew it, the two youngest Karev’s came bouncing towards him.

“Daddy!” “Daddy!”

The seven year olds gave him a large hug, showing him matching toothless smiles. When Jo and him found out that she was pregnant for a third time, they were overjoyed. They had always wanted more than two kids, but hadn’t really been actively trying. They were excited to expand their family of four into a family of five. When they discovered that she was not carrying not one, but two babies, they were shocked. Jo wasn’t expecting to get pregnant at thirty-nine, much less with twins. Brynn was seven at the time, and Rory was five, so they were worried about how their kids would react when they found out two new babies would be joining the Karev household.

Rory --surprisingly-- took the news really well. He was excited with the fact that he could have baby brothers. (Oh well. Alex Karev only seemed to make girls, Rory being the one exception.)

Brynn was a bit more reluctant. She had heard from her friends at school how much babies cried and stole all the attention. She loved both her parent’s equally, but she was a Daddy’s girl through and through. The thought of losing both of her parent’s focus was terrifying. What if her Daddy called her new siblings names like Bug or Princess? Those were her names, and her names only. She couldn’t let the new babies steal her names.

It took a while, but after multiple long talks and countless acts of reassurance, but Brynn eventually came around to the idea. Before they knew it, Brynn was just as excited for the upcoming babies as they were. Jo was worried throughout her whole pregnancy. Since she was almost forty, she was now considered to have a geriatric pregnancy. Just the word ‘geriatric’ did nothing to soothe any woman’s nerves, but add that to the fact that Jo was a surgeon and knew all the risks of pregnancy, and she was practically a mess the first few months. As it turned out, the twins ended up being her easiest pregnancy, since Brynn decided to make her entrance into the world four weeks early and while she was carrying Rory she had the occasional spotting that terrified her to her core every time, worried that she was miscarrying.

The twins ended up being born at thirty-five weeks, perfectly healthy. The only thing that gave Jo any trouble at all was the severe morning sickness, which turned out to be all day sickness.

But in the end it was way more than worth it. Faye was pretty much Jo reincarnated, just like Brynn. Every aspect about her was exactly like her mom. Her hair, her eyes, her face shape, chin. The only thing that she inherited was the Karev crooked grin, which all of their children had. (She didn’t even have a big Karev head when she was born!)

Bridgette on the other hand, was all Alex, except for the eye color. Between her potty mouth, sassy attitude, and overall appearance, she was the female mini evil-spawn.

The Evil Spawn Jr, title belonged to Rory, who was basically the male version of Bridgette. Same spunk, same mischievous smirk. Jo was always telling him that she didn’t know what she did to deserve three devil’s in her house. Alex always found that one really funny.

“You guys got everything?” he questions the two, who nod their heads up and down enthusiastically, skipping to the car and greeting their siblings.

He drives the twenty-five minutes back to his house, the twins chattering about in the back seat.

“And then Julie showed her her math problems, and I tried to tell her they were wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen!”

“Tommy was sooo annoying. I kept telling him to stop making noises with his pencil, but he just rolled it back and forth so many times!”

Alex laughs under his breath, listening partially to the twins’s conversation. They sounded exactly like how Cristina and Mer used to rant about completely different things to each other, so it never failed to make him think back to the ‘olden days’ as he and Meredith liked to call them.

If someone were to tell cocky, intern Alex that he would be happily married to the love of his life for (legally) fifteen years, father of four kids, and lived in a house that literally had a white picket fence on the outside of it, he would’ve sent them to a long term psychiatric care facility, because there was no way he would ever have that life. (A life he always secretly wanted, tucked into the very tiniest corner of his brain so it could never venture farther than a fleeting thought here or there).

“--We’re here,” he calls out, shutting off the engine as he parks in the driveway, the kids unbuckling their seatbelts and scrambling out of the car, eager to escape the confines of the vehicle and enjoy the peace of their rooms.

Once all five were inside, he watched as the four children parted ways. “Faye, Bridge, you have thirty minutes of reading down here. Ror, you have that history test you need to study for, and Brynn, you know what you need to do.” he says, his two oldest tromping up the stairs as the twins take their place in the living room on separate seats, already engrossed in the books they needed to read as part of their daily homework assignments.

Alex lets out a tired sigh as he flops onto the couch, more than tempted to grab the remote from the side table and flick on ESPN, but knew that he couldn’t. As much as the girls loved reading, they got distracted from books really easily. Loud horns, cheers, and buzzers wouldn’t be the way to go if he wanted any work to get done. Instead, he plucks the iPad from the coffee table, picking up where he left off that morning with an online medical article.

Before he knew it, Faye and Bridgette’s timer had rung out and they started on their math homework on the kitchen island, something that they finished with ease. Another trait Alex was grateful the children inherited from Jo, her smarts. (Specifically in math)

“Ugh!” he hears a loud exclaim from upstairs, causing him to look up from the device in his hands and glance towards the steps, half expecting an angry looking Brynn to come storming out at any moment. He huffs, focusing his attention back to the iPad in hand when no mini Jo comes down.

“No! There are no other ways!”

Another loud groan of frustration.

“Son of a butthead! There are NO more ways! None! I don't know how the frick to prove that the freakin angle is congruent!”

Alex debates ignoring it and letting his daughter figure it out on his own, that is until he hears something hit a wall. He quickly makes his way up the stairs and to Brynn’s bedroom, standing in the doorway for a few seconds, trying to observe the scene.

Brynn’s normally pristine room had books scattered on the ground, blankets thrown to the side, and an open notebooks posed at an awkward angle on the floor.

Well, at least he knew what hit the wall.

Brynn sat on her bed, literally glaring at her computer screen, partially debating whether or not to throw the expensive device across the room. She didn’t break eye contact, as if she was in a staring contest. Alex wanted to laugh, but he knew a deathly glare would be sent his way if he did.

He knocks on the wood door, sending a questioning glance Brynn’s way as she finally breaks her stare with the inanimate object. “Everything okay?”

The brunette huffs loudly, bouncing back onto the bed as she lets out a groan.

“I hate proofs.” she turns her head to look at her dad, Jo’s signature puppy dog face plastered on her features. He couldn’t help but chuckle. It was crazy how much Brynn looked like Jo. Add that onto the fact that she too shared a love for flannels and jeans, she was pretty much what he imagined a fourteen year old Jo to look like. When he first found out that Brynn was going to be a girl, he said to Jo, ‘I’m gonna need a gun.’

Luckily, that never happened, partially because of the fact that Alex hated guns and Brynn had yet to have a boyfriend. He was more than thankful for that. Especially since he’d seen couples at Brynn’s school canoodling in what they thought was private, even though they were in full view of everyone. He’d be fine with his not-so-little little girl dating when she was twenty-five, no earlier. Any man before that would not be very fortunate.

“I’ll help,” Alex says, taking a spot next to her and Brynn begins to show he dad the problems on her screen, going on about how she was struggling to figure it out.

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

____

Jo Karev was thrilled when Bailey offered to take over her service for the rest of the day. Her husband had gotten off early, and Bailey knew how much of a struggle it was to spend quality time with family as a surgeon.

She thanked Bailey so many times she lost count, all while boasting a large smile. She couldn’t remember the last time both she and Alex had been home before five o’clock. All she wanted was to go home, snuggle with her babies, and spend time with her husband. Well, her babies weren’t technically babies anymore, Brynn was fourteen, Rory was nearly twelve, and the twins were seven, but nevertheless, they would always be her babies. (Who cared if Rory was five foot three and already almost as tall as her? He was still such a mommy’s boy.)

She drove home with a smile on her face, humming along to the songs on the radio. She was so happy. She wanted to take her kids in her arms, and watch action movies on the couch while they pigged out on pizza together.

When she pulls up in the drive she practically bounces up the steps to the house, swinging open the door and dropping her coat carelessly onto the rack. She hadn’t texted Alex to let him know she was coming home early, in hopes to make it a joyful surprise.

Her heart stopped momentarily at the sound of yelling coming from upstairs. Arguments between Brynn and Alex were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were nasty. Alex always felt like crap for days afterward and Brynn stayed quiet, both at home and at school.

“Do the reflexive property again!”

“Dad we already did that!”

“Well do it again!”

“Why?!”

“Do you see any other way to do it?”

“How is that going to help!”

“It just is!”

“Dad, we've done the reflexive property five times now!”

“You think I don’t know that!”

“Say that segment DA is congruent to AD.”

“But-”

“There are literally no other fucking ways to do it! It’s fucking shit! Thats what it is!”

“You act as if I didn’t already freakin know that!”

A loud groan.

“What the fuck even is this one! We’ve managed to do three of them already. Try proving the triangles congruent now. Push random ones, like Side-Angle-Side.”

“This is crap! ‘You don’t have enough proof to show that the blah blah blah.’ Stupid freaking thing! Freaking worthless!”

Jo is unable to suppress her giggle, clasping a hand over her mouth, trying not to make too much noise. It was a relief to know that the current screaming match going on wasn’t an argument.

“They’ve been at that for an hour and a half now.” she hears her son pipe in, drawing her attention to where he sat on the couch.

Jo sets her bag down on the table, greeting her son with a large hug, “Hi bubs.” she mumbles into his hair, feeling his arms wrap back around her. In private, Rory was the biggest cuddler, touchy-feely person you’d ever met, but in front of his friends he tried way too hard to show he was ‘too cool’ for hugging his mom, so Jo took in these moments and held them close to her heart.

“An hour and a half huh?” she chuckles, running a hand through her son’s gelled hair.

Rory snickers, hazel eyes shining with mischief, “Yeah, dad won’t stop cursing and Tissy just keeps screaming alongside him,” he sits back onto the couch. “I’m surprised neither one of them had lost their voice yet.” he smirks his crooked Karev smirk, focusing his attention on the TV where he had opened up netflix, where he was currently binging Bates Motel. The name ‘Tissy’ came from when he was younger and couldn’t for the life of him say either Brynn nor Sissy. It seemed to have stuck all these years, and he was the only one who ever called his older sister that, even ten years later.

She sees him cringe, “I never called you mother right?” he asks, eyes not leaving the screen, where a certain Norman Bates is practically spooning his own mother in the bed, claiming that he couldn’t sleep.

Jo snorts, ruffling his hair fondly, “Definitely not. And if you ever do, you’re dead Ror, hear me?”

Rory rolls his eyes playfully, giving his mom a grin. “I won’t. Promise.”

Jo heads up the stairs, the loud yells continuing to echo through the halls, which she chooses to ignore.

“Dad for the fiftieth freaking time-”

“--What’s going on here?” Jo questions, causing both her husband and daughter to break away their concentration from the computer screen.

Brynn’s face lights up at the sight of her mom standing in the doorway, more than thankful to have someone who actually knew stuff help her with her math. “Mom!” she exclaims, getting up from her place on the bed to give her mother a hug.

“Hey baby. Care to explain to me why the second I walk through the door I'm greeted with screaming?” She questions, eyebrows raised as she sees Alex sheepishly avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the pictures that hung on the wall very interesting.

Brynn smirks, “Well, Dad sucks at math so-”

“--Hey!” Alex interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t done this crap in like thirty years!” He defends himself.

Jo rolls her eyes and smiles of her own gracing her lips as she reaches the bed and takes a look at the problems on the computer. “Proofs?” she asks from confirmation, earning a nod from her husband and daughter.

She hums, “Given: segment CA bisects angle BAD and segment CA bisects BCD. Prove: triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC.” she murmurs to herself.

The brunette laughs when she sees the fact that the pair had put down some form of the ‘reflexive property’ not one, not two, but seven times.

She grins triumphantly as she remembers how to do the problem, the skills seemingly coming back to her after years of them being dormant. “Next statement is angle BCA is congruent to DCA because…” she scrolls through the possible options the box provided, smirking when she found the right one. “An angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”

She watches as an angle pops up on the screen, only encouraging her to continue, “Then… angle DAC is congruent to angle BAC because an angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”

Another angle comes up.

“Finally,” she smirks, glancing to the side of for a brief second to take in the draw dropped stares of the two behind her. Brynn was a whiz at math like her mom, but proofs was something she’d been struggling with since they’d started learning them yesterday. Geometry was no joke. Her and her dad had already gotten almost all of the problems done, but it had taken so long to do a few measly problems that they’d lost track of just how long they'd been sitting in the room, arguing back and forth over different possibilities to try.

“Triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC, reason being Angle-Side-Angle.”

She grins, wiping her hands together as she hits the submit button, a large green check with a correct! floating on the screen, going over the ways to solve the problem.

Alex glares at her. He’d been working on these fucking proofs for so long now, and Jo just comes in and completes it in less than a minute?

“I hate you.” he gruffs, still glaring at both his wife and the computer.

Jo giggles, leaning over and pecking her husband’s lips. “Love you too.”

She begins to walk out of the room, stopping and calling out over her shoulder as she reaches the doorway, “Now you just need to make sure the twins did their homework!”

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