#something something growing older and not being prepared to be an adult

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace-1

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Word count: 2,4k

Masterlist

Part 2

Your feet hurt, throbbing in your worn-out sneakers that you’ve owned since your first day at university. Your legs feel like jelly, and not in the good way, in the way where the back of your knees hurt, and the earth’s gravitational pull seems to be so much stronger. You feel like you’re being cooked like the way you’re preparing your sauce. Boiling, bubbling.  

The sweat gathers at the brim of your chef’s hat and the back of your neck. The head chef is screaming at you, again, like he always does. You swear that he gets some sick thrill out of yelling at one. Forcing you to do 15 tasks all at once, while telling you just how horribly you’re doing all of them. Not only that, but you feel like you must think for the other four cooks you work with. 

How you’re not used to it yet, you’re not sure. Maybe you’re not cut out for the industry, but you refuse to think of it. That would be your life’s dream down the drain. Not only that but, 20 000 euros down the drain. “Y/N, *il nous faut la sauce pour le jarret d'agneau!” Again, that damn head chef calls and you can feel your frustration burning in the back of your eyes. *We need the sauce for the lamb shank! 

“*J'apporte ta foutue sauce maintenant!” You can’t help but let your anger bubble out. You give the sauce for the cook preparing the lamb, ignoring the fiery glare of the head-chef. “**Je prends ma pause.” You say, throwing your hat and apron on my station, once again ignoring your boss’ threats. You throw the door open, sighing in relief at the fresh air. *I'm bringing your damn sauce now **I’m taking my break.  

You sigh, sitting on the dirty alleyway floor, leaning against the old brick wall. You pull out a pack of cigarettes, take one out, light it and take a deep pull. And as you sit, you can’t but groan as you read the invoice for your rent. You’d been so good on your bills, but then you got sick, again, then the bills started piling up.  

“Fucking hell...” You mutter, rubbing your temples in annoyance. You get a message from your mom, asking how you are and when you’re coming to visit. You avoid it, you can’t face her. Your family all believe you to be this fancy five-star-chef, making it big in the capital of France. You don’t have the guts to tell them of your failure. Or the fact that you’re sitting on a dirty floor, after being verbally abused all day.  

When you were little, you imagined being a princess in a big castle. With lots of gowns and jewels and shoes. You’d use your mom’s old dresses and put on a show. Whenever you’d get hand-me-downs or the new outfit once a year you’d put on a whole show. When people would ask what you want to be when you grow up, you’d always say a model.  

When you got older, late teenage years, you, of course, had to think of something more realistic. And with chef-ing having the easiest job to find and the easiest degree to get, you chose it. Now, you regret it more than anything. Your dreams have been sucked dry and aspirations have little left. At home, you spend your time scrolling through the vogue Instagram, dreaming of the day that someone can do all this adulting for you.  

Out of nowhere, a loud scream is heard. You snap your head up to the direction it came from, after watching the newest runway from Versace. Suddenly a man come barrelling down the alleyway. He keeps glancing over his shoulder in panic and almost fear. His skin is a golden tan colour, and his beautiful dark hair flies as he speeds down the alleyway. He looks ready to to climb into a nearby dumpster before he spots you.  

He seems beyond relieved to see you. And then another scream is heard, and his expression becomes one of alarm. “J'ai besoin...uh...help?” His French is sloppy and mixed with English. But his accent is not one of an American. You cross your arms and lift your brow. “Aide?” You translate his words for him. He nods, glancing to the alleyway entrance again. “Si, si-” very much not French. “Now. Uh...” Then another scream and his urgency grows. “I speak English.” 

This news gives him a massive sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Dios.” He mutters and then his relief turns again to imperativeness. “You to hide me. Now. I can’t tell you why. But you need to hide me. Now. Uh-please.” His dark brown eyes seem frantic, and his accent sends shivers down your spine. You’ve never met someone with this accent, in your whole 23 years of life and something about this intrigues you.

“And why should I, for all I know you could’ve just killed someone!” You reply, standing up and stomping your cigarette out. And yet your firm stand buckles when he gives these big brown eyes, which are filled with fear. “I’ll pay.” Your expression changes almost instantly. At this point you’re ready to do just about anything to get the insurance off your back.  

“Yeah? You like that, cosa bonita? How much, pretty girl?” Then he pulls out his wallet and takes out a stack of hundred-euro bills. “You name the price, doll face. Here, two hundred? But please be quick with your decision.” Never before have you had this opportunity to make money this quickly. And you need to money now more than ever. How can you say no? What’s the harm? If he was a criminal, he would’ve hurt you by now, right? You don’t mutter a word.  

Not to mention the way he uses the pet names don’t seem gross. He’s charismatic, so much so that you hope he doesn’t see the blush creeping up your ears. Not only that but his smile seems almost comforting. Like you could trust him with your drink in a busy club. How far are you willing to go to pay your bills? You grab his warm hand, with the money in, and shove the both of you through the back door.  

“*Je suis malade. Je prends le reste de la journée.” You call out, shoving your chef’s jacket and the rest of your work attire into your bag, all with the man still trailing behind you. “I do like it when a pretty girl like you speaks French. I must thank you, not many girls would usually do something like this.” Suddenly his worried nature turns into a more welcoming, flirty one. *I'm sick. I'm taking the rest of the day off. 

It’s rare that you’re called pretty by an utter stranger. Frozen in place as you stare up at the handsome stow-away. “Where is he?” It’s the same girlish voice as before, the slightly above standard’s restaurant doors slam open. “I must say though, my French isn’t very good. I’m sure you noticed. But I do hope you were telling your manager that we are leaving, no?” He asks and this time blush creeps from your cheeks all the way to your ears.  

“Uh- yes- something like that. Come, we’ll hide in the worker’s bathroom.” You stammer your way through your sentence. Though you regret it the moment you close the bathroom stall. It’s small and barely above regulations, this place is cheap on their worker rights. His chest is pressed up right against yours. His body is so warm, like a nice fire in a winter cabin.  

You know if you were cuddle with him in the cold snowy months, you wouldn’t even need a heater or warm socks. Wait, why are you thinking this? You’ve just met the man! Now you’re already thinking of burrowing yourself closer to him. His big hands stabilize themselves on your waist, trying not to topple over you. And you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, hoping the handsome man won’t notice.  

At the same time, you wish your hair isn’t tied up, so that you could hide behind that piercing gaze. Especially now that your bodies are pressed against each other in the small bathroom stall. Your hands grow clammy, and you can feel that his eyes are trying to catch yours. Trying to see more of your face and you’re merely hoping the earth would swallow you whole. Feeling inferior to be admired by a man with such heat.   

“I knew coming to France would be fun, but I didn’t expect being so close to such a pretty girl.” He seems entirely too big for the little stall and now you wish they had aircons that the American’s talk about. You too are forced to also steady yourself on his big, hard chest. Those dark unruly brows furrow. “Why are you so quiet now? Earlier you were quite happy to talk, no?” 

Now you’re really blushing. “I assume when you someone like you, pays someone like me, you expect them to keep quiet.” You say avoiding his gaze, this seems to aggravate him. He takes you by the chin and forces you to look at him. His gaze softens when you look up at him through your lashes. But your legs feel like jelly when staring into those chocolate brown eyes.  

“Someone like you? Someone like me? You should watch what you say.” Those dark golden eyes seem to stare right through your insecurities. “Why is that?” His words cause a spark in your mind, you’ve always been jealous of the rich ones. Not only that but the way they look down on you. This causes a smirk on his face, “So the mouse does speak?” You scoff at his words and start staring him down.  

“The mouse does speak, and she’d love to ask why on earth she’s hiding with you in a bathroom stall?” His jaw snaps at your words and this time he looks away. “If I tell you, you might just be another person I need to hide from.” This time it’s your turn to laugh. “Tell me now, or I’m throwing you to the wolves.” He snaps down to look you in the eyes again. “You wouldn’t dare.” You smirk, “Watch me.”  

His hand snaps up and then falls to his side again. Your heart is racing, it’s unlike you to be so daring or disobedient. But something about him makes you feel bold and confident. “Alright, niñita, tell me do you know about the Tifosi?” He asks, mixing his language in between and you can’t help but want to beg to know what he’s calling you 

You shake your head no. “Alright, what about Formula 1?” Again, you shake my head no. He sighs and rubs his head. “Let’s just say I have a few loco, um, crazy fans.” You laugh, full on head back laughing. “Really? You paid me two-hundred euros to hide with you in a bathroom because you have some passionate fans.” Your eyes are twinkling with delight.  

“No, no, no, niñita, you don’t understand. They had scissors! They wanted a piece of my hair!” This causes a flash of fears in his eyes, and he subconsciously rakes his fingers through his luxurious dark hair. You shrug and lift your hand, wiping a strand from his forehead. “I can see why.” It goes quiet then and the both of you can’t help but notice the screaming has died down.  

“Well, if you’d ever like to know more about someone like me-” He sends you a wink and then grabs your phone from your back pocket. He shows you the lock screen and you roll your eyes but give in and open the phone. He puts in his number, adding a chili next to his name. ‘Carlos Sainz 🌶️’  

 You frown, “What’s the chili stand for?” Once more, he winks. “You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure. And here-” he pulls out his wallet and hands you another hundred, “-for the trouble.” You blush again and shake your head. You hesitate, eyeing the money, biting the inside of your cheek, churning over if you should take it or not.  

It’s been the first time that you’ve laughed in weeks. Not to mention the previous money already helps so much. “Tan testarudo que ya lo puedo ver. Está bien, me gusta un poco de coraje en mi chica.” He scoffs and shoves the bill in the back pocket of your jeans. “I think they’re gone now, I’ve got to go, I’m sure my manager is looking for me.” He says after his rant in the language I don’t understand.  

He unlocks the bathroom stall door, and clatters out, yet somehow makes it look so hot. You escort him out of the restaurant and find yourself staring at him on the sidewalk of Paris. You can’t but remember, when he looks at you like he’s ready to devour you, that this is the city of love. Again, he steps up close, feeling his hot breath on your forehead. He’s six inches taller than you, he’s looming.  

As if thirty minutes ago are happening again. He’s quiet and contemplative. His sweet, cocky attitude turns dark suddenly. His warm, rough hands gently caress your cheek. “I’m only in Paris for one more week, before I’m off to the Netherlands. If you don’t message me, I’ll make sure to see you again.” He looks so serious, so much so that your stomach turns slightly.  

“Wouldn’t that be going a bit fast? Seeing me at my work a week after we met?” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. His eyes turn slightly darker and yet he smirks. “I like a fast pace.” As if he’s a villain in a bond movie, a bright black SUV pulls up next to him. “Don’t tell anyone about this. It’ll be better for the both of us. I don’t want the world to know about you just yet.”  

His wink sends shivers down your spine. He then takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles. “I will see you again, muñequita.” He then slides into the back of the SUV; his gaze makes your core warm. And when he rides away you can’t help but lean against a close-by streetlamp. Your legs feel like Jello.  

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #scuderia ferrari #sugar daddy!Carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

[teyamskxawng]

Rite of Passage

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

The rundown: You and Lo'ak mutually agree to paint each other for your coming of age ceremony. Although you're both growing older, some things never change.

Warnings: language, Reader and Lo'ak being painfully oblivious, Reader swearing up and down that she hates Lo’ak’s hands but she really loves them, just lots of fluff and stupidity, characters are aged up

WC: 5.5k

A/N: This was my attempt at writing a light-hearted lil fic that I don’t feel obligated to stretch out into a series. It's basically word vomit idrk how I feel about it, but anyways!! Another one for the Lo’ak lovers (me) lol <333

The highly anticipated season had finally come around once again—the annual, collective moment in which the entire Omaticaya clan came together to celebrate the time-honored induction of their youth into the world of adulthood. Over the course of several grueling months, the young Na'vi had been put through their paces, overcoming demanding rites of passage and thus earning their coveted standing within the tribe.

The lively and uproarious ceremony was more than just a celebration. It signified a crucial stepping stone in the journey toward becoming accomplished members of the Na'vi society. And this year, Lo’ak found himself among those transitioning from childhood into adulthood, moving one step closer to joining the ranks of his higher-ups.

He’d finally be treated like an adult, he’d finally get to exercise free will outside of his parents' strict and demanding orders. He’d get to celebrate with all of his warrior friends and probably consume way more drinks than he should, but that was all part of the adventure. He’d be a free man, and he couldn’t fucking wait. 

But as thrilling as the entire experience was panning out to be, there was this nagging sensation at the back of his mind—something that clouded his thoughts like a veil of unease.

It was customary for each young Na’vi to be adorned with intricate body paint before attending the celebration—a powerful symbol that represented their transformation from childhood into adulthood. It was akin to casting off one’s previous life and stepping into a new, mature version of themselves.

Each unique design would act as a shroud, allowing the individual to leave behind their former innocence and emerge reborn, strong and prepared for all of life’s challenges.

While most of his peers had already secured mentors, close friends, or even lovers to skillfully adorn their bodies with intricately painted designs for the ceremony weeks before its commencement, Lo’ak had nothing. Despite all his accomplishments thus far, he’d yet to find someone to help him present himself in a manner conducive to the age-old tradition. Which was a big problem.

Lo’ak had been struggling with the idea of asking you to paint him for the upcoming ceremony for weeks on end. It was something that weighed heavily on his mind, but he just couldn’t figure out how to approach such a delicate yet meaningful conversation with you. Embarrassingly, he found himself losing sleep over it all, tossing and turning in his hammock, replaying scenarios in his head, trying to find the right words that didn't seem to exist.

You and Lo’ak shared practically every experience and milestone throughout your lives together. You went through the same rites of passage as Lo’ak to be welcomed into the tribe as warriors. Given your close bond, it was natural that Lo’ak would want to be the one to paint you for the ceremony as well. Unfortunately, just as with asking you, he stumbled when it came to bringing up the actual topic. It was going beyond the casual interaction of friends—this was a formal event, steeped in tradition and significance. The whole situation left him feeling overwhelmed with stress and anxiety. 

But still, Lo’ak understood the weight of the tradition: it was all about deep connections and honoring those who had played an essential role in your life. Last year, he recalled watching Kiri as she painted Neteyam for his coming-of-age ceremony. As per tradition, this year Neteyam painted Kiri, a symbol of their familial bond and reciprocal support. It made sense, but at the same time, there went two of his potential options. Tuk was way too young to know what she was doing, and it’d just be straight-up embarrassing to have to ask either of his parents to do it for him. That would defeat the purpose of the entire ceremony; he was supposed to be an adult now, no longer reliant on his parents.

There was no doubt in Lo’ak’s mind that you’d be the perfect partner for the adornment process. You weren’t just a passing acquaintance; you were one of Lo’ak’s closest friends. Your friendship was strong enough to withstand the toughest storms. But still, Lo'ak couldn't shake the feeling that asking to paint each other would somehow cross a line between friendship and something much more intimate. It’d be embarrassing. And what if you had chosen someone else already? What if it was some other guy? Lo’ak’s stomach dropped at the thought.

And now, as the day of the ceremony had arrived, Lo’ak found that he still hadn’t mustered up the courage to ask you about the painting ritual. His anxiety mounted as time slipped through his fingers like sand. He was so screwed.

As you approached the Sully family’s tent, the faint sound of metal slicing through the air caught your attention. A knot of unease tightened in your chest as you hesitantly pulled back the tent’s entrance, revealing Lo’ak sitting alone in the dimly lit space. He was cross-legged on the ground, wholly engrossed in spinning his dagger in circles on the floor, his quick fingers directing its every move. As used to his stupidly reckless behavior as you were from years of friendship, your eyes still narrowed at the sight. You swore he was two seconds away from slicing his finger off and bleeding out right there in front of you before the ceremony even began.

So much for his adulthood.

Lo’ak’s ears twitched, and his trance-like concentration suddenly broke as he sensed your presence, his focused expression softening as he turned his gaze to meet yours. Momentarily distracted from his dagger, he rose to greet you, meeting your eyes with a look of genuine confusion.

Lo’ak eyed you up and down before stating matter-of-factly, “You’re not painted for the ceremony yet?” He didn’t phrase it like a question—more like an observation. And that was a little unfair, because it wasn’t like he was dressed in his body paint either.

Feeling a tad defensive, you retorted, “Neither are you,” as you made your way deeper into the heart of the tent. As much as his words had sparked annoyance in you, a secret wave of relief washed over you as you realized that Lo’ak wasn’t ready for the ceremony either. That could mean good news: maybe he hadn’t found a partner for the painting ritual yet.

There was still hope.

For days, you’d been meaning to ask Lo’ak about the whole rite of passage painting thing, but every time an opportunity presented itself, you’d back out like a little bitch. You honestly didn’t even know why you hesitated. It shouldn’t have been difficult to approach him about it. Lo’ak had always been your closest friend—you’d trained together, learned to tame your ikran together, and even completed your Uniltaron one after the other. There was no doubt in your mind that he’d agree to be your partner for the significant culmination of everything you’d accomplished together. It was just that the entire ordeal of getting someone—a good friend or otherwise—to meticulously rub paint all over your body felt so… affectionate. You and Lo’ak weren’t affectionate. Just thinking about it made you feel like there was a cascade of woodsprites flurrying around in your stomach.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of those persistent thoughts, when Lo’ak’s voice invaded your musings.

“Yeah, I don’t know who’s gonna paint me. Haven’t had time to ask anyone yet,” he said nonchalantly while reaching down to retrieve and re-stow his dagger.

He was avoiding eye contact, his yellow eyes aimlessly darting around the tent. You found it hard not to roll your eyes at him because it was so obvious he was lying about being too busy. You’d literally just caught him goofing around with an entire weapon moments ago. However, it didn’t really come as a shock that Lo’ak hadn’t approached anyone about it yet. Social graces weren’t his strong suit, and mustering up the courage to ask anyone to play such a role in his rite of passage couldn’t have been easy for him.

But still. Either way, you made up your mind; it was clear that things needed to move forward somehow. Regardless of the situation and awkward challenges it presented, you couldn’t sit idly by anymore; both of you were running out of time, and it’d be stupid to continue dancing around the matter at hand.

Resolutely, you decided it was best just to be upfront about it and get the whole thing settled once and for all—for both of your sakes and for the sake of friendship. Maybe it wouldn’t be as awkward as it seemed.

“Okay. I’ll do you, and then you can do me,” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips without any real finesse. It was as if the sooner you could get those words out, the sooner you could escape the oncoming wave of embarrassment threatening to wash over you.

However, Lo’ak’s reaction caught you off guard.

His eyes widened in surprise and his eyebrows shot upward as he averted his gaze from yours. He couldn’t seem to look at you, his attention inexplicably drawn to an unremarkable spot on the ground near your feet. You scrunched your face up in confusion as you tried to make sense of his bizarre reaction. It wasn’t until you gave yourself a moment to process and then reprocess the words that had spilled from your lips, that you realized how they might have sounded to Lo’ak’s stupid teenage boy brain.

Trying to push away your own mortification and distract the both of you from the burning color that you were sure was spreading across your face, you acted on instinct, reaching over and smacking Lo’ak upside the back of his head. It was a necessary move to kill the dreadful silence that engulfed the tent.

“Ow! The fuck?” Lo’ak screeched, nursing the spot where you struck him as if he had genuinely been injured. He had always been overly dramatic.

“Just sit down,” you told him, trying your best to maintain a casual demeanor.

Despite the twinge of awkwardness still lingering in the air between both of you, you firmly gripped Lo’ak’s arm and pulled him back down into a sitting position on the floor. With Lo’ak seated and somewhat calmer now—even if he was still rubbing at the supposed wound on his head—you made your way deeper into the tent to rummage for the supplies needed for the body paint.

Jake and Neytiri were always well-prepared, making sure they had an ample supply of materials for when the time came to don their traditional war paint. Thanks to the countless hours you spent with the Sully children, navigating their tent was like second nature to you, and locating the necessary items was a breeze.

With a mortar and pestle full of bright white pigment in one hand and a bowl of water in the other, you re-approached Lo’ak, who was sitting patiently, waiting for your return. As you stood there, you studied Lo’ak’s face and allowed your gaze to wander down his frame, trying to visualize the patterns and symbols that’d complement his warrior spirit. Eventually, feeling inspired, you took your place in front of him.

Making yourself comfortable, you positioned yourself on your knees, making use of the extra bit of height, before you reached for the mortar and pestle and meticulously ground the white pigment into a fine powder. You drizzled in a small amount of water to create a smooth paste that would soon adorn Lo’ak’s face and body.

As you mixed the paste, your thoughts began to wander. Despite your focus on the task at hand, you couldn’t ignore Lo’ak’s piercing gaze. It seemed to bore right through you.

It still baffled you just how much Lo’ak had grown in such a short amount of time—it seemed almost sudden. For as long as you could remember, you and Lo’ak had been virtually the same height. There was even a brief period during your early childhood when you stood a bit taller than him, and you never let him forget it, teasing him about it every chance you got. But now? Things were so different.

It was like Lo’ak had shot up overnight. Not only was he growing taller by the day, but he was growing stronger as well. There was no denying the obvious changes in his physique. And it wasn’t like you were trying to notice the changes. It was impossible not to see the way his arms had filled out, the way his shoulders had broadened, the way in which even the slightest movement would cause the muscles in his stomach to ripple.

Just like they were at that very moment, as Lo’ak nervously shifted under your intense scrutiny, self-consciously crossing his arms over his chest.

Right, because you were definitely staring at him. You mentally chided yourself for letting your focus wander so far off course.

Swallowing hard, you turned your focus back to the task at hand. As you stirred the paint, pouring all your effort into getting the consistency just right, you tried to ignore the fact that the once-casual atmosphere between you and Lo’ak was now laced with an undeniable undercurrent of tension.

Out of nowhere, Lo’ak abruptly asked, “Is it gonna be cold?” His question caught your attention, and in a way, you were grateful for the sudden interruption. Your mind had been racing with thoughts of how you’d manage to paint any area below Lo’ak’s shoulders. But you decided to cross that bridge when you reached it.

“You tell me,” you quipped in response, placing the mortar filled with paint on the ground beside you. You dipped each of the fingers on your left hand into the paint, discovering that it was indeed really cold. You did the same with your right hand before lifting both sets of paint-covered fingers toward Lo’ak’s waiting face, wondering how the hell you were supposed to begin.

Truthfully, you hadn’t come up with any elaborate painting patterns or designs in preparation for the moment, which was somewhat concerning. The entire ceremony was meant to be personal and special, something that required contemplation and reflection for at least a few days before actually starting the painting process. Yet there you were, just 30 minutes away from the start of the ceremony, and not a single thought in your brain.

Despite your lack of planning, Lo’ak was calmly sitting right in front of you with his full trust placed squarely in your hands. So, without any further hesitation or delay, you decided to just dive in and let inspiration (and the trust of Eywa) guide your hands.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pressed your fingers to the edges of Lo’ak’s eyebrows before slowly trailing them across his forehead and then swooping them down along the bridge of his nose. You tried very hard not to laugh at the way Lo’ak flinched from the sensation of the cold paint touching his skin.

Momentarily, you took a step back to assess your progress and decided that it didn’t look half bad. The realization fueled your enthusiasm enough to continue painting. Coating your fingers in the paint once more, you continued to glide them confidently over the smooth contours of Lo’ak’s cheeks in swift strokes.

As you neared completion, you observed that all that remained unpainted on his face were his lips. They looked strangely bare. You weren’t really sure whether they were supposed to be painted or not. But the idea of touching Lo’ak’s lips, even just with your fingers, caused your heart to pound erratically within your chest. It was so bad that you were contemplating just backing out and moving on to the next part.

But just when you were about to give up and move on, unintentionally, your eyes met Lo’ak’s. It seemed as though he was reading your mind; he knew exactly what you were thinking as he studied you intently. There was no turning back; he had already noticed your hesitation.

Trying to maintain focus on the art and not let yourself become overwhelmed by how close you were seated across from Lo’ak proved challenging. You could practically feel the soft warmth of his exhaled breaths as they caressed your face. It made your spine tingle and caused goosebumps to rise across your arms.

“Close your mouth,” you ordered firmly, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in the air. He obeyed, immediately pressing his lips together with exaggerated swiftness. With a soft smile, you slowly raised both of your hands to his mouth. You gently placed two painted fingers on his mouth and traced them down his lips. From there, your fingers continued their journey along the curve of his jawline.

Taking another dip in the paint, you allowed your gaze to wander across the entirety of Lo’ak’s unpainted body. With your internal pep talk in place, you decided to just dive in. Maybe if you did it casually enough, everything would be fine. You softly nudged Lo’ak’s crossed arms apart with the backs of your hands. Your fingertips began their descent from the sides of his neck and moved deliberately across the broad expanse of his shoulders.

Silently reassuring yourself that it was nothing more than your overactive imagination when Lo’ak ever-so-slightly shivered under your touch, you diligently tried to make things move along as quickly as possible. Dipping your fingers into the paint once more, you adorned his shoulders with bold, white swirls that seemed to dance and move on their own.

Gradually moving further along his muscular form, you traced delicate lines that wrapped around each sculpted bulge of his biceps and along the contours of his forearms.

As your focus moved even lower, you took note of your favorite part of his body: Lo’ak’s uniquely impressive four-fingered hands. Upon reaching each digit one at a time, you spread long white lines down their length with seemingly natural precision. You let your instincts take over as you continued to create patterns and shapes on his skin, fully immersed in the fluidity of your motions.

You decided to save his chest for the very end, knowing just how awkward that part of the process was going to be—and truth be told, you really wanted to delay the moment for as long as possible. The silence within the tent was almost deafening, and you couldn’t help but send a silent prayer to Eywa, hoping with all your might that your hands would remain steady and not betray your mounting anxiety.

Dipping your fingers into the paint once more, you hesitantly approached Lo’ak’s chest. You were doing everything in your power to avoid making eye contact and ignore how tense his entire body was. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady your nerves, you quickly drew a series of intricate loops across each of his pectorals and then traced symmetrical lines down the center of his chest. Those lines continued, gracefully curving around the sides of his ribcage.

With every passing moment, it felt like the two of you were collectively holding your breath, neither wanting to break the fragile bubble of silence that had formed around you. 

Concerned for both your well-being and your sanity, you decided it’d be best to wrap up that part of the painting process as quickly as possible. It wasn’t until then that you finally allowed yourself to exhale. You exchanged an awkward glance with Lo’ak, silently affirming the palpable tension surrounding you.

“Okay. I’m done,” you announced, gently sliding the container of paint toward Lo’ak. You dipped your fingers into the nearby bowl of water, absentmindedly scrubbing away traces of the drying paint, which turned the water a cloudy shade of white. Your words acted like an instant wake-up call, abruptly jolting Lo’ak back to reality from his trance.

His focus had been so intense while you painted patterns across his chest that he inadvertently stopped breathing altogether. The sudden, sharp inhale that followed the sound of your voice served as evidence of that fact. That realization was enough to make you lose your own composure—just a tad.

You made a half-assed attempt at suppressing the grin that threatened to break past your lips, so you weren’t really surprised when Lo’ak extended his arm and slowly began to tug the bowl of paint toward him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The seemingly innocent yet still very suspicious act instantly put you on high alert. All you could do was watch in horror as Lo’ak suddenly immersed his entire hand into the paint. Your eyes widened in fear as he slowly lifted his paint-covered hand and began to edge closer to you, moving the dripping monstrosity in the direction of your face.

“Wait. Lo’ak, wait!” you warned, frantically shaking your head in an attempt to dissuade him from what you already knew would be an outrageously idiotic plan.

A glob of paint dripped from his saturated hand onto the floor between the two of you. You warily watched its continued pooling descent, leaving a bright splatter of paint on the ground that Neytiri would definitely kill you both for making.

“Just trust me, y/n,” Lo’ak insisted, the stupid grin on his face somehow both charming and alarming at the same time. It was more of the latter. You absolutely didn’t trust him.

“Lo’ak. Don’t you dare...” you began, your voice wavering and your ears flattening against your skull in weary anticipation.

But Lo’ak was undeterred by your protests. They only motivated him further. Barely giving you enough time to shut your eyes and mouth, he guided his entire paint-coated hand onto your face. The combination of the cold paint and the warmth from his hand sent shivers down your spine. Instinctively, you pressed your hands on the ground beside you, every fiber of your being screaming for you to get up and run. Far, far away from him.

However, Lo’ak wasn’t about to let that happen so easily. Somehow anticipating your attempt to recoil away from him, he brought up his other hand to secure the back of your head, making sure that you weren’t going anywhere. You sputtered loudly at the sensation of being literally smothered, and of course, nothing on Pandora could’ve stopped Lo’ak from laughing uproariously at your suffering.

“Stop moving! You’re gonna ruin it,” Lo’ak tried to sternly warn you while unsuccessfully stifling his laughter. He clearly found it all very amusing.

You couldn’t fucking breathe. You tried to communicate as much to Lo’ak, but you were sure your words sounded like nothing more than a strangled garble of sounds.

Eventually, Lo’ak seemed to take pity on you and lifted his paint-covered hand away from your face. You instantly gasped for air, finally unencumbered by his prolonged attempt at suffocating you to death. However, your relief was short-lived as you tasted the bitter, acrid flavor of paint on your tongue.

“You got it in my mouth, dumbass!” You complained with a groan, making sure not to swallow anything. Your disdainful tone only seemed to delight Lo’ak further.

“No one told you to eat it,” Lo’ak retorted with a dismissive snort. He was walking that thin line between playful banter and genuine ire. You could seriously kill him.

You narrowed your eyes at the little shit in front of you and desperately tried to rid yourself of the unpleasant taste by frantically licking at your arm. You probably looked completely unhinged, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Lo’ak made a face at your display, crinkling his nose in disgust.

Left with no other option, you did what any sane person who was minutes away from being welcomed into adulthood would do—stick your now paint-covered and saliva-slicked arm out toward Lo’ak’s incredulous face. His shock and horror at the development were priceless.

Lo’ak barely had time to react as you swiftly thrust your arm toward him, but his lightning-fast reflexes won out in the end. Always one step ahead, Lo’ak knew you and all of your little tricks too well. It was like he could read your mind. In the blink of an eye, he was already crossing half of the tent in a mad dash. He backed away from you with his hands raised defensively in front of him, like someone facing an untamed beast.

“Chill…we don’t have to do this,” Lo’ak cautiously pleaded with a slow shake of his head, his tone dripping in a mix of seriousness and amusement.

But you were undeterred. “Yes we do,” you deadpanned determinedly and slowly continued advancing on Lo’ak, coercing him to move toward the back of the tent. Your eyes never left his, maintaining a fierce stare as the situation continued to escalate.

Without warning, you lunged at him like a predator going for its prey, stretching your arm out in eager anticipation. It was so close—just inches away from Lo’ak’s face—but he was quick to react once more. He grabbed hold of your biceps with an iron grip, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You couldn’t help but hiss at him in frustration, feeling utterly defeated by the massive strength disparity between the two of you.

Lo’ak’s eyes locked onto yours for a split second before focusing on another target: your mouth. His expression changed from one of caution to sheer amusement as he caught sight of something peculiar—and apparently hilarious—about the sight.

His grin stretched ear to ear, nearly swallowing his entire face, as he blurted out, “Oh shit. Your entire tongue is white!”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and your eyes immediately widened with alarm. Because it definitely couldn’t be safe to consume paint. There could’ve been poison coursing through your veins at that very moment, making every passing second one closer to your tragic demise, all thanks to Lo’ak and his stupid hand. 

But despite your mounting panic, Lo'ak remained utterly unfazed. He obviously found the situation amusing, as evidenced by the way he wasn’t even trying to suppress his unbridled laughter.

“One night,” you vowed through gritted teeth, “I swear I’m going to sneak into your tent and cut every single braid off of your head in your sleep.” The more you thought about it, the more serious the idea became in your mind.

Lo’ak merely tilted his head, and an annoyingly attractive grin stretched across his face. “Oh, yeah?” He taunted, vehemently nodding his head along with what he knew was just another one of your faux threats. “And then what are you gonna do?”

As he spoke, Lo’ak tightened his grip on your arms—a bittersweet reminder that he was well aware you weren’t going to do shit to him in his sleep.

You eyed the unpainted underside of Lo’ak’s forearm, which rested directly in front of your face, and a childishly impulsive urge overwhelmed you. Without giving it much thought, you leaned in and licked a long, wet, white stripe along the length of his arm. The unexpected action elicited a shrieked “Bro!” from Lo’ak, who could only blink at the sight of your tongue, still pressed to his now-slobbery arm, in disbelief. You reveled in his reaction to your sudden move, despite how immature it might’ve been. He deserved it, and you had no regrets.

However, as fate would have it, the impromptu moment coincided precisely with the return of the entire Sully family to their home as they prepared for the upcoming ceremony. Jake and Neytiri led the way in, followed closely by Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk. All of them. The five family members entered the tent one by one, each grinding to a halt as they caught sight of you and Lo’ak’s odd exchange in the far corner.

A few beats passed as everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between you two. The silence was palpable, and the tension continued to rise like an invisible fog that filled every corner of the tent. It finally dawned on you that it'd probably be a good idea to remove your tongue from Lo’ak’s arm.

Taking matters into your own hands—or, more accurately, your tongue—you gingerly began to distance yourself from Lo’ak. You took a cautious step sideways, followed by another one, making sure there was a healthy amount of space between you both. You hoped that would somewhat defuse the situation while also giving off the impression that nothing out of the ordinary had transpired—though it was clear you weren’t fooling anyone present.

The awkwardness still hung heavily in the air as each second felt like an eternity passing by. You could only imagine what thoughts and judgments must be running through everyone’s minds.

The silence in the tent was so profound that you could probably make out the gentle sound of a leaf falling from a tree outside if you really tried. The quiet was unsettling. It made your fingers itch. You found yourself tucking your hair behind your ears, trying to find some purpose for your idle hands instead of having them dangle awkwardly at your sides.

Opposite you, Kiri tried to conceal her knowing grin behind one of her hands. As to what she knew that you didn’t, you were utterly clueless. Regardless, you couldn’t help but feel unnerved by her expression. Similarly, Neteyam chewing on the inside of his cheek in an uncharacteristic effort to maintain his composure did little to alleviate your discomfort.

It wasn’t long before Tuk broke the silence with a question, curiosity twinkling in her eyes. “Is that a handprint on your face?” she innocently asked, pointing a tiny finger at what was definitely a handprint on your face.

Five sets of curious yellow eyes darted back and forth between your face, Lo’ak’s conspicuously stained white hand, and the matching white handprint wrapped entirely around your arm. Feeling their collective gaze upon you, you decided that you weren’t even going to try to talk your way out of the situation. “Yeah. It is.”

Without missing a beat, Neytiri swiftly turned her attention towards her youngest son as she hissed out his name: “Lo’ak.”

And thank Eywa for that. At least somebody had your back.

Lo’ak’s voice tended to reach an almost comical high-pitched tone whenever he was aware that he had done something wrong, and this occasion proved to be no exception. He glanced over at you with equal parts guilt and defensiveness in his wide eyes.

“It looks cool, though!” He insisted, trying to justify his actions. He waved his hand close to your face, as if the gesture held the power to magnify his point and erase any doubt you might have had. You squinted at the offending white hand hovering in front of your face before hastily swatting it away as if it were an annoying little bug.

Lo’ak grinned in delight at your visibly pissed-off demeanor, which only seemed to fuel his determination to get under your skin. He appeared to forget all about the looming presence of his entire family as he defiantly stuck his hand back in front of your face. And you were not about to let that happen again. You were probably going to have nightmares about his hand. Pivoting toward Lo’ak, you shoved him away from you, probably a little harder than necessary, judging by the way he stumbled a few steps to the side from the force of it all. But he was laughing as he re-straightened, not at all deterred by your outward hostility.

It was mostly feigned, anyway.

Neytiri watched the exchange between you two with amused exasperation, her eyes twinkling despite her best efforts to remain stern. She let out a soft ‘tsk’ as she shook her head, unable to fully suppress the tiny smile that crept onto her face. She reached down to gently grasp Tuk’s hand before leading the child further into the tent.

“Jesus,” Jake muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly struggling to maintain what little patience he had left. Jake would always throw that foreign word around whenever you and Lo’ak were together, but you still had no idea what it actually meant. “Just—finish up, alright?” He threw an exasperated look toward you and Lo’ak. “No more shenanigans. We’re leaving in ten.”

“Yes sir,” Lo’ak mumbled, his expression a mixture of mischief and feigned seriousness. He waited until Jake and the rest of his family were out of earshot before turning back to you.

“It looks cool,” he said again, his face breaking into a genuine, broad smile as he stepped back to take in the masterpiece he had just created. He couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the intricate design of his handprint that adorned your face. Giving himself a little nod of satisfaction, he crouched down to pick up the paint once more, eager to continue where he had left off.

You couldn’t see your own face, of course. But secretly, you had to agree that it probably did look kind of cool. You’d never openly admit that to him, though. There was no need to inflate his ego any further. Still, deep down, you knew you'd be proudly sporting your best friend's four-fingered handprint at the coming-of-age ceremony that evening. To you, it symbolized the unbreakable bond you both shared.

From his seated position on the floor, Lo’ak’s eyes rose to your face, a single brow raising in amused confusion at your idle form. Dismissing his reaction with a shake of your head, you couldn't prevent the warm smile from stretching across your lips as you settled back down in front of Lo'ak.

end

#teyamskxawng #teyamskxawng’s fics #lo'ak x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak fluff #lo'ak fluff #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2022 #atwow #lo'ak x y/n #lo’ak x y/n #lo'ak sully #lo’ak #lo'ak fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar

[dbs-scans]

Halloween Event 2023 — The Kamome Monster Nursery Monstagram Account

Hello all! In this post, we've compiled the event hosted on AidaIro's Twitter account in 2023 to celebrate Halloween: a return to the Kamome Monster Nursery!

This time, we take a look at the nursery's new social media account...

🎃Announcement🎃 To all nearby residents: First, allow us to express our gratitude to everyone for always being such good neighbors to our monsters and researchers. Tonight, we have taken it upon ourselves to review a common concern we receive: that our facility seems dangerous and gives people the creeps.

In light of this, we have decided to set up a social media account to allow all of you to see our monsters and researchers in action. By viewing the feats and day-to-day lives of our nursery, we hope it may help you better understand our noble mission. 🎃🎃🎃

—The large-scale social networking service, "Monstagram"... Apparently there's an account on there that posts not just the day-to-day lives of humans, but monsters as well...

What spine-chilling lives could these monsters possibly be leading? With shaky hands, I decided to take a peek at this "Kamome Monster Nursery" account on "Monstagram"...

There are already a few posts here. Now, which one should I view first...?

POLL:

【We're gonna bite'cha!】✅

【The Monster Prodigy】

【Aim to hollow out your opponent, and... Punch!】

【Who's up? ～Whispering Sweet Nothings・For Eternity...～】✅

Alright, let's open up Monstagram...

【Who's up? ～Whispering Sweet Nothings・For Eternity...～】 Oops! I accidentally clicked on a weird video! This man is treating me like a kitten. Is the sexy voice really necessary...? I think I'll go to sleep early tonight...

【We're gonna bite'cha!】 It's a video of three monsters practicing their dance moves. Their footwork's a mess, but you can tell they're giving it their all. I wonder if they're going to put on a show...?

—Setting aside that researcher's cryptic video, it seems to me that the monsters are planning something. What could it be...? Now, which one should I look at tomorrow?

POLL:

【The Monster Prodigy】✅

【Aim to hollow out your opponent, and... Punch!】 

【Outing With the Older Boys】✅

OK, let's open up Monstagram again...

【Outing With the Older Boys】 Three monsters are being lead through town by an adult monster and an adult human male. The monster in front is leading them with a flag. He's so cool and collected... wow... I've decided: in my next life, I want to be reborn as a flag!

【Target Spotted!】 I found the continuation to the last photo. It seems they went to the city to go shopping. The monster is pointing at a hat shop. I guess she found what she was looking for. That's nice.

【The Monster Prodigy】 The three monsters are practicing writing. There are envelopes and stationery nearby. Are they writing a letter to someone...? The one with the best handwriting out of the three of them seems to be the one with all the wings growing out of it. That one's so skilled, I... I can't even read it...

—I feel like I'm beginning to get an idea of what the monsters are planning. I'll take a look at the rest of the posts tomorrow...

I'm going to go on Monstagram today, too!

【Secret Nightly Routine】 I-I didn't know monsters could be this adorable...!! The secret to keeping her tail so fluffy is by brushing it daily and bribing it with cookies, it seems.

【Aim to hollow out your opponent, and... Punch!】 The Three Monsters are training. No way — are they preparing for battle...!? Maybe they're planning on beating somebody up. Monsters are awesome... ...

—Tomorrow it will finally be Halloween. I wonder how they're all going to spend it......

Looks like they didn't post any updates on Monstagram today. The monsters and researchers must be too busy to post anything.

Judging by the posts I saw, those monsters were probably doing all that work in preparation for today. I wonder if the three of them are enjoying Halloween with the researchers right now...? If they come to town, I'll hand out treats to them... ...

🎃 Happy Halloween! 🎃

#toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #tbhk #aidairo #jibaku shounen hanako kun #halloween #jibaku shonen hanako kun #twitter

[southangel]

Heyo!

I don't know if you write about familiar stuff (I guess it counts as a platonic topic), but if you do, can I request the Broship as single fathers and what it would be like to be their kid? How would each of them handle being a single parent?

Cheers!

Main 4 Being their kid

Warnings: mentions of drinking/drugs

Notes: No gender mentioned, so gender-neutral by default. This was a little time-consuming to write, luckily I had a lot of free time today! Ran out of ideas for Cartman though.

Stan Marsh

As we’ve already seen from Post Covid, Stan is in some ways similar and different from his childlike self.

Having a child is stressful enough, but being a single parent on top of it just adds more to the cake.

As much as he cares and wants to raise you correctly, he’s terrified of becoming like his father.

Randy was never a good dad, and it affected Stan mentally where he almost considered never wanting children.

I see Stan as more protective than he was as a kid. He doesn’t want anything harmful to happen to you like what happened to him, so he tries to shield you from it in a way that isn’t incredibly overbearing.

He wants the best for you, and he wants you to be happy in life. Stan often tries to keep a balance when taking care of you, trying to raise you to be respectful and have the best personality in all the right areas.

Stan would be the kind of father to play his guitar for you until you fall asleep, or even introduce and influence you to pick up your own instrument.

Sometimes the stress and negative thoughts catch up with him, he doesn’t feel like he’s a good father and he feels as if he’s slowly becoming Randy.

He turns to his old childlike habits, drinking and mentally losing himself without even noticing, it’s by instinct.

Stan doesn’t want to be like this, and he doesn’t want to you to see him like this, especially when you’re still young.

Once you get older, it’s when you see Stan like this that you realize maybe he’s the one needing comfort.

Stan doesn’t necessarily ever want you to meet his friends, Kyle is an exception.

He thinks their bad influences, and he only wants the best for you! Besides, if Kyle has a kid as well, then maybe you could both hangout together.

He tries to let you be as carefree as possible, letting you do as you wish as you grow older.

Stan doesn’t want to seem like a typical adult once you start considering love interests, but he just doesn’t want you to get your heart broken.

It’s happened to him, multiple times.

He just wants to prepare you and make sure that you’re absolutely sure on what you’re doing in this stage of your life.

You’re the reason Stan keeps going, and he wants to be the best dad he ever can.

“Oh, what happened to your Grandpa? Let’s talk about something else..”

Kyle Broflovski

Kyle is definitely a hot topic, as I personally see him as the best dad out of the Main 4, single or not.

I see him as very fatherly, or more family oriented than the rest. It makes sense when you see how he takes care of Ike.

Kyle has never really been one with romantic luck, and I guess it carried on in his adulthood since now he’s a single father with you as his child.

The first thing that i’ll say is that Kyle wants the best for you. His parents wanted the best for him, and look where he is now.

He wants you to be the best, getting top scores and grades on all your assignments and work.

At some point it feels overbearing even.. Constant pushing and pressuring to be the best, how long until you can’t handle it.

Eventually Kyle tries to let you be, but reassures you that he’s only like this because he wants the best for you, you’re his kid!

You know he wants the best for you, and that he only means well..

I see Kyle as the most protective out of the Main 4, but that doesn’t mean he’s intense with it.

He just wants to make sure you aren’t in any trouble or harm, and he wants to help you if you are.

Kyle wants to support you in all of your hobbies and dreams, no matter what they are.

Even after countless years, Kyle still has dreams or thoughts of Cartman coming back to somehow screw with him again, this time being with you.

Part of this is why he never wants to introduce you to his friends just like Stan, but he is partially open to Stan..

Since it was confirmed in Post Covid that Kyle became a counselor, I believe that he would be perfect at comforting you with any troubles or worries you could have ever had.

If you ever have problems or troubles, who else can you really tell other than him? He’s your dad after all, he understands.

Once you start exploring and finding love interests, he wants to support you with it as much as he possibly can.

Kyle never had much luck in romance his entire life, so he wants you to have a different fate.

He hopes you can be happy in life, all he wants is to satisfy you in this lifetime.

Even with all this, Kyle genuinely really cares about you, and he’ll always love you no matter what you decide to do with your life.

“What’s wrong? You know you can always talk to me.”

Kenny Mccormick

Personally, I also see Kenny as a good dad as well.

Kenny as really been through a lot, and he doesn’t want you to experience what he did as a child.

His childhood was incredibly rough, poor lifestyle in an abusive and unstable household that was the worst combination for him.

Even though Kenny has been through so much, he still manages to attempt and cheer up his family like Karen, and I see the same for you.

Even though now as an adult he’s doing much better, he still carries on to the caring and compassionate traits.

Kenny wants to spoil and get you all the things he could never have as a kid, but still wants to make sure you aren’t spoilt.

I think he would be okay with you meeting his friends, not Cartman though.

Kenny has been shown to do numerous things for money in the past, and I feel like he would do the same for you.

Instead of money as a reward, his reward would be having you happy and content.

He’s used to amounts of crying in his childhood, but it still hurts when he sees you cry.

Kenny feels as if he’s done something wrong, and similar to Stan, he doesn’t know what to do and feels lost.

He is more mentally stable than Stan though, he pushed through it and still takes care of you as best as he ever will.

Kenny has had multiple love interests throughout his lifetime, but never really found that perfect one.

Once you start growing up and gaining crushes, he would support you in finding love like Kyle, but he would be more weary about it.

He just wants to make sure that you’re okay and safe when finding the right person, your safety and happiness means the most to him.

Let’s not forget about his death curse..

Unfortunately, Kenny’s curse of always dying as a kid carries on to his adulthood, constantly killing him.

He remembers how you would cry every time and get traumatized by his death, but then suddenly forgetting about it the next morning.

Kenny eventually discovered that he had a less chance of dying once wearing less of the color orange.

He wants you to make the most of your life, exploring and experimenting with possibilities.

Kenny would be the type of dad to try finding hobbies that you like. One time he tried baking with you, it was pretty fun for the most part! The house almost burnt down.

With all this, Kenny would be a pretty good father, single or not. He cares about you with his life, and that’s all that matters.

“What do you think about pets? A cat maybe?”

Eric Cartman

Cartman is a huge handful, and he can be difficult in so many ways.

It’s not a surprise that he’s the worst dad here, but makes you the worst kid as well.

I genuinely don’t see him as a good dad, unless we’re talking about Post Covid before that future was replaced.

Cartman might make some effort to care, but it definitely won’t be a lot. He either does nothing or something, no in between.

He is not the protective type, possibly the exact opposite on the scale when he feels like it. Though there are times he shows care for you, it’s rare though.

Cartman is known to be manipulative, and he will guilt trip you in any way once you’ve gotten on his nerves, mostly talking about how hard it is being a dad and trying to connect with you.

When you were a child, you accidentally crashed into Kyle’s car with Cartman’s, he was actually proud of you.

I see Cartman as the type of dad to ask you to pass the remote while he’s sitting arm length away from it, purposely knowing you’re in the other room.

He wouldn’t necessarily care to have you meet his friends, the only benefit he really sees is rubbing it in Kyle’s face that he has a kid while he doesn’t.

Even thought Cartman isn’t a good father or person in general, there are times where he genuinely feels a want to take his role seriously and raise you properly.

It’s not like he neglects you, it’s just that he doesn’t really care or feel the need to always associate you with him.

Maybe if you could take after him, he would like you more, or maybe he would just dislike you even more..

Part of you wants to have a good relationship with your own parent, but Cartman doesn’t seem to really care much.

There are times where he might actually start taking care of you, but it’s slim.

Once you start getting crushes and falling in love, Cartman tells you about his old relationship with Heidi, and obviously twists the story..

He doesn’t care about who you date much, but you don’t understand the reason why he’s adamant and strict about who you can and can’t go for.

“Don’t you understand how hard it is taking care of you? Give me some space..”

#stan marsh x reader #eric cartman x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny x reader #south park x y/n #south park #south park x reader #kenny mccormick #stan x reader #kyle x reader #south park kyle #stan marsh #eric cartman #eric

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑏𝑜𝑟

A/N: My ass couldn't wait to publish this work even though I wanted to wait a few days but the feedback was amazing... So HERE IS YOUR MEAL GALS!

Taglist: @lol-im-done @lu002 @keepingitlokiii

Series Masterlist

It had been a long day of studying and working for you, being able to return back home in the middle of the night, very later than you normally came, and there was nothing more you wanted than sleeping the rest of the night away. Getting to hear your teachers in college scold everyone and anything, while thinking of a way to reach your work place on time and planning what to cook for your sisters...

Life was hard, but yours was more like a death penalty.

Thankfully, the Adlers from the next house was kind enough to let you, more like make you, leave them in their care while you went to college and then work, helping in any way they can. You felt bad for the elder woman, thinking that you were being a liability when she hit your head hard, saying that your sisters alongside with her grandchildren lifted her energy up.

And now, even though you were tired and ready to explode on someone, you knew that your sisters needed their older sister more. “Hey, you said you didn’t understand something about your homeworks, right? Let me help you while we eat some junk food, okay?”

The happy squeals they let out made you coo after them sweetly, getting to the kitchen to prepare a hot drink and some chips and dried fruits. You were at ease knowing that what they were about to bring wouldn’t be so bad...

They were 11 year-olds in middle school, how bad could it be?            

“You guys see this in school?! That was in my highschool!”

“Yeah, sis we told you! We complained the stupidity of the government but you said it couldn’t be that bad!” you grumbled under your breath, not really having something to say to that while erasing what you had written.

“Okay, smart ass, I was wrong! Now, here is an easy way to solv-“

All three of you winced when an ear-piercing baby crying was heard from the next door house, you looking at the door with an agitated look. Breathing through your nose, you dropped the pen and gripped your hairs thightly, hoping that the voice would cut and the silence of the night would engulf the peaceful street...

But it was only for a brief second when a louder one reached the every house around.

“I think they’re having troubles with the baby...”

“Yeah, heard some of the ladies’ pitying eyes and talk of how they had to raise a newborn baby alone...” your sisters mumbled between each other, looking at the door worriedly and you raised a brow curiously at seeing a clear worry on their faces. For the most part, you were aware that you didn’t have the chance to meet with your neighbors except Miss Adlers and you swore you weren’t all that interested in whoever there was in the house next to yours but...

“What do you mean? Do you eavesdrop now?”

“No, we swear we don’t! But you know we’re tiny,”

“And we’re mostly thought to be stupid that we can’t understand adult talks... Which makes bringing tea easier.” They laughed in delight and high-fived, proud of themselves for outsmarting you while your eyes welled with slight tears.

When did they grow up so much?

“Okay, you little gossippers. Now tell me what you know too.”

“Ohhh~ Are you interested in the young dad next door?”

You flushed at her teasing smirk and pushed her away from your face to grab a jacket to see if there was anything you could help with the baby while listening to the cocky siblings you had. “Well, his name is Joel Miller, 20 year old male living with his brother who likes to get in jail. Married for a short amount of times but the mother left them, reason: unknown. He likes to play guitar, has the cow eyes and as the ladies call ‘is a sight for sore eyes’.”

You looked at her confused, and horrified, since they knew -possibly- everything about a human being that someone could know, while laying on the ground and posing, looking at their nails as if it was the strangest thing in the world. “Ho-How do you know all of these?!” you exclaimed angrily while getting the keys and walking up to the door, trying not to feel ashamed at learning such things about a man you didn’t even know up until just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t forget to tell Tommy that using a baby to lure women to himself is lame!”

“And we learnt them all because people in this street are noisy!” they waved you out while relaxing on the couch, and you shivered at the chill night breeze. These were the last things you heard before you threw yourself out, swearing to never let the others gossip with them in the same room. All the things they said was interesting, a man being left with a kid when it was usually the other way around nowadays. You were impressed that he was a hands-on father, trying his best while he probably didn’t know a thing about looking after a baby by the increasing wailing of the baby.

You let out an angry scowl at the irritating high-pitched cry, ready to just bang the door for ruining the silence you needed so badly after hours of working and that was what you were about to do before a thought crossed your mind, which made you frown to yourself in disappointment.

That was the same reaction you got when you were a young kid, taking care of your little siblings when your parents were off working, not caring much about their children.                                        

You also felt helpless as they screamed their hearts out, trying and failing to understand what was wrong with them or what they needed. How you felt angry, irritated tears came to your eyes, how you felt ashamed at the many stares you got as if you were the one who was supposed to care for little babies as if you birthed them...

You wouldn’t make the same mistake.

Knocking on the door with a soft sigh, you heard a panicked shit coming from inside and came a black haired man who looked very much so miserable with sweat running down his forehead, He wasn’t able to look at you throughly because of the worry that they were irritating people and he imediately started spit apologies. “I’m sorry for causing so much discomfort, I swear we are-“

“Hey,hey,hey! It’s okay, I’m not here to complain like an old woman...” he sighed in relief and slumped over the door, your heart breaking for their obvious misery while you held the tired and exhausted man up by his shoulders when probably-no scratch that- the most handsome and cute guy you had ever seen in your goddamn life came in your view with a cute, yet wailing, baby in his arms.

“Tommy, I swear if it’s another woman when I’m dying over here-“ Joel’s cursing was cut in the middle when he saw a woman he usually saw coming and getting out of the house next door at ungodly hours. Many times, he wanted to meet you, and many times he failed in that.

Not because he was nervous, but his life was breaking apart with the responsibility of the fatherhood.

He loved his daughter, his precious Sarah, but right now he really felt useless while his baby was still crying in his embrace, face now red like a tomato and discomfort written all over her face. He felt a tear run down his cheek, overwhelmed by the cries and hastily wiped it so that you wouldn’t see…

And maybe it was because of the “mother senses” you got through years of taking care of your sisters but that little baby’s squishable face made you coo at her sweetly. And, like a miracle, she stopped crying for a second and rather sniffled when her eyes turned to you.

Leaving both men in shock.

“How the- Are you a baby whisperer or something?!” yelled Tommy in excitement, the loud voice causing Sarah to start crying again and ending up with you slapping his chest while Joel bounced the little girl, hoping it would bring comfort to her. Though it seemed that her uncle being hit in front of her was enough to make Sarah stop once again.

“Stop screaming, dumbass! Baby ears are sensitive!” you whisper yelled, Joel snorting amusedly at his brother’s misery when a voice he never liked- the voice of a woman who always thought he knew the best- reached the three of you, causing you to turn sharply and look around the corner of the still-open door with flaming eyes.

“Oh God, young people and them making babies at such young ages when they can barely take care of themselves... That’s why we can’t live in peace-“

“Maybe, the reason why you can’t bear the cries of a baby- when that’s the most natural thing- is because of your old fruitlets, you bonker!” you yelled over the door, angry at witnessing yet another “Karen” when the said woman got embrassed, a few other people looking out and having sympathetic eyes turned to you three, and got inside her house, probably cursing at you but you didn’t care.

They weren’t the ones trying to be best here.

It really was nothing, in your eyes. People always loved to judge a mother/father, always ready to act like they were born with the ways of taking care of a baby, and even going as far as humilating the parent by telling them they couldn’t take care of their own baby.

And you couldn’t stop them all maybe, but you wouldn’t let anyone pull that shit in your presence.

And as someone who wasn’t used to having the kindness of people, real kindness, Joel was left amazed at how quick you were to defend them and how you defended them as if they were your family.

Maybe, you weren’t that bad and even came here with worry obviously.

But seeing your doe eyes turning to his hazel, tired ones with the softest look given to him and then the baby in his embrace... He thought he could trust someone again.

“I know that as her dad, you would be the best one to know her but... By the looks of you two, she is giving you a hard time and everyone needs some help at one point... So, would you like me to help?”

And the answer to that innocent question was one that would change everything for everyone at that moment.

And little Sarah, without knowing, brought two people that would care for each other and her the most by choosing to be calm and cute in your presence.

“I wouldn’ wanna make you uncomfortable-“

“Nonsense, I think this little lady over here,” you brought a finger close to her tummy and slightly tickled her, causing her to erupt in giggles which made the man holding her look at you as if you were the center of his world while the girl took a hold of your hand to chew. “Had already chosen me to be here... I swear I’m not some dangerous woman, only one that wants to help.”

And when Joel let you inside with a relaxed sigh after hours of crying, Tommy saw that his brother smiled for the first time over a year.

“I swear you are a baby whisperer, how did you manage to calm her down and then manage to play with her?” you laughed at the astonished looks the two brothers were giving you, sitting on the ground with Sarah over your lap, rubbing her back to get the gas out of her while she laid against you like a sack of patato with a happy smile over her chubby face.

“No, I’m not. I’m just someone who had to take care of two babies.” They both grimaced softly, impressed that you took care of two when they were barely able to take care of one. Joel watched you slowly pat the soft curls on his daughter’s head with a serene look, as if that was what you were born to do. He looked at the happy smile on her lips, how thight she was holding onto you as if you’d disappear when she bit and cried bloody murder whenever a woman would come close to him and her. It was almost like she felt their bad aura, trying to protect her dad from them even when she was a tiny baby but the same gremlin-like kid was now a putty, sleeping on you like an angel.

He wondered what was different with you, that made you kind enough and brave enough to come and help two men in the middle of the night...

He wondered what it was that different with you from the woman he once called his wife, that made it so easy for you to stay for her.

He came back from his dreaming when Tommy sat next to you to watch you softly caress Sarah’s little back, noting how you did to ease her, chuckling when her cheeks and lips squished together on your shoulder while she started to sleep peacefully. “I think we’re good for the rest of the night...”

“Hmm, can’t believe a baby could be that sweet yet also scaring... She’s a sweetheart though.” Joel smiled at you kindly when your eyes found his and he got up to take the baby from you, your hands slowly finding her armpits to raise her off of your chest to not wake her...

Which failed when she started to whimper at the loss of warmth.

“Oh, someone chose her favourite person, it seems~” Tommy whistled at you two, making you flush under Joel’s intense look while your heart beated hard under your clothes at how Sarah was just so comfortable with you. Most of the times, it would be like this. Just a few minutes in their presence, and they would slither close to you.

I guess this is God’s way of telling me I should become a mother but...

After much working, and failing, you looked at Joel for help when he smiled to you and pointed to her crib across the bedroom, eyes softly looking at the image of you holding Sarah. “You can put her in her crib, if you wan’ it. It’s fine...”

You nodded at his words, getting up with the help of Tommy and going to the crib and lowering your upper body to lay the girl softly on her bed and giving her a plushie to hug. For a few seconds, you just stood there, absentmindedly caressing her cheeks while you watched her sleep. For some strange reasons, you couldn’t leave her. It felt strange, how she suddenly took a hold of your heart and you already loved her when she grabbed your finger.

If you only knew how important she would become to you.

While you were deep in your thoughts, Joel stood at the door when you didn’t come back after 5 minutes, worried that something happened but was pleasantly surprised at seeing you so soft with Sarah, leaning over with his hands crossed on his chest and watched with love-filled eyes at his daughter’s happiness. It had been a hard day for him, with both working and looking after his daughter. It had been a while that all three of them were that happy and peaceful and to think that it was all thanks to the magical touch of a woman next door...

He thought you would be a good mother one day, watching how you interacted with a baby that had nothing to do with you and how loving you were to your sisters even if they annoyed you.

It’s a family thing I guess, he thought sadly. Why couldn’t I get that? Haven’t I already given enough..?

“I'm sorry I made you leave your kids alone, you can go if you want...” he said after pulling himself together, with a shy look at you when he saw the moonlight light up your tired features. You were surprised at hearing his voice so suddenly, even if that was his house, and you realized that he had talked to you and waited for you to say something while smirking amused at your startled face.

“ Wait, wait... Ah, they’re not my kids. I know it seems like that, with those two being glued to my legs, and they could be considered I guess since I’ve been taking care of them my whole life but... They’re my sisters.” You explained, rambling hurriedly, watching the shock on his face at the revelation and you chuckled at the cute look he had before getting out of the room, checking Sarah if everything was fine with her one least time when he spoke hurriedly after you, trying to apologize while thinking he had offended you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-“ he held his neck awkwardly, not knowing how to act before a woman after a year of living isolated. Seeing him trully sorry, thinking you were offended, you gave a genuine smile to him and took a hold of his arm, rubbing it softly and Joel understood why Sarah became a jello under your embrace.

If that same feeling were to engulf him too, he would also slump against you.

“Calm down... Joel, right? It’s okay, it’s mostly the look I get whenever I explain it. I’m used to it by now and to be honest you were the most normal reaction I ever got.” He sighed in relief and looked at you as if there was something he wanted to say, and for the most part he did.

He really wanted to talk to you, have you a bit longer here so that he could experience the comfort and light you emitted.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee, maybe? For the help you have given us?” he mumbled anxiously, palms sweating tons when you stopped mid-action, jacket still in your hands and you gave a small smile to him. You really wanted to, it has been a long time since you relaxed after all. It wasn’t every day that you had a guy offering something, and though it wasn’t a date...

You wanted to consider some sort of that.

“I would like it very much, if that’s not a problem?” you dropped the jacket and sat down while he gave you a small smile before disappearing in the kitchen.

“Never, wait here and get comfy.” Joel immediately set off to impress you, the instinct to do so being foreign to him, It wasn’t like you were his girlfriend, or someone he dated or cared, this was the first time he saw you but it almost felt like he knew you for a long time.

As if you two spent your lives together. And though he didn’t ask for your favourite coffee, a gut feeling in him somehow told him to go with it and bring the coffee to you with shaky hands.

You who had been looking at the many pictures on the wall silently, with a soft smile. Upon seeing him and his shaky smile, you took the cup from him thankfully and your mouth went dry when your fingers touched each other, twitching to hold onto more. You thought he would maket he coffee as he wanted, not really knowing how you liked the hot drink since he didn’t ask you.

But accepting that drink was the best decision you have ever made. This, this masterpiece of a coffee was the best one you ever had. ”You are a God-sent, Joel. This is the best coffee I’ve ever drank!” he chuckled at your enthusiatic voice, butterflies erupting in him after a long time, making a flustered smile sit on his handsome face when he plopped down next to you, but still putting some space just in case.

“I’m glad, you seemed like you needed that.”

“Oh, yeah. Taking care of two rascals while studying and working is hard really.”

“You go to college? What do you study?” he straightened up slightly and leaned over, trully excited and curious of what you do. And though you normally wouldn’t do this, you trusted him and his stupid, flustered smile.

“Psychology, and though it’s what I always wanted to do... It’s a pain in my ass.” You responded with an equally happy smile, Joel returning it enthusiasticly, wanting to learn more about what you learn since he never got to go college.

And though you were tired before coming here, both he and Sarah had that strange way to make you energetic and alive that you two now standing before each other whole you explained one of the theories you learnt today. And maybe, Joel didn’t understand a thing but seeing you so happy to talk to him out of everyone made him realize that he’s also a 20 year old just like you.

And that Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs was an interesting one.            

And it was also interesting to you... which made you trip over a toy mid-explaining, ready to humilate yourself in front a guy...

Good thing, it didn’t happen... Bad thing? You were nose to nose with a guy you had just met with blown eyes.

Joel reacted fast, knowing how much those toys hurted, and leaped up to hold your waist to stop you from falling that essentially ended with you two nose to nose, his arms holding onto your waist thight while your hand bunched the shirt he wore, the scene looking as if it was out of a romance movie.

You both blushed, hollow breaths leaving your mouths harshly and you could smell the cologne he wore, how his arms felt like holding onto you, holding you to his chest. You got lost in the hazel of his eyes, feeling the same pull you did when you were looking at Sarah...

As if you had been waiting for them.

In the middle of your internal freaking out, Joel, unknown to you, also felt the same pull. He couldn’t lie, even when he was with Sarah’s mother, he never felt trully whole. As if he had found his true happiness...

As if he found a reason.

And looking at you, all kind and soft, helping and everything good, Joel couldn’t stay as a stranger to the beating of his heart. He got lost in your eyes, wondering what it would be like to hang out with you more...

You were definetly a beauty. A beauty that wouldn’t look for a man with a kid.

But your eyes almost invited him in, lips plush and waiting while he felt your fingers slowly caress his cheek. Was that how heaven felt-

“Sis, come here! She is finally getting a guy!”

“Damn, I didn’t think It would be that fast!”

You both widened your eyes and looked at the window, only to see your two sisters in front of their open windows, eating some chips while watching you two as if it was the most interesting thing for them.

You immediately pulled away from Joel, both sides missing the other’s warmth and scent, and ran to the open window to yell at them angrily while your cheeks felt hot even with the chill air.

For both ruining the moment, and also still being awake.

“What are you two bugs doing awake at this hour? You two have school tomorrow!” you exclaimed while Joel laughed behind you, the sound of it setting your heart aflame while one of your sisters waved to him, Joel doing the same when two angel-looking kids turned to you with mischievous looks

And it amused Joel so much so that he just leaned his hip to the side and watched you two roast the other.

“We know but just wanted to make sure that we’re still gonna watch that movie before sleeping...”

“ All you think is movies... Yeah, we are gonna watch it.” you looked at them to finally go and sleep, but the more timid one out of the two looked up shyly.

“Can... Can the baby come too? If her dad allows?” your worried eyes turned to Joel, who didn’t expect them to invite him and his daughter. He didn’t have many friends and this time was the first time he interacted with someone more than a few minutes.

And you could see that he liked his peace, by the way how you didn’t realize there were people living next to you.

“You don’t have to accept, if you don’t want to. I’ll talk to them-“ you offered him, not wanting to be here and let your sisters make you feel flustered anymore when a gentle hand caught your wrist to stop you, and gave you the most loving and happy grin he ever did. “We would be happy, as long as the movie is not bad.”

“It’s nothing bad, we swear! We’re gonna watch Barbie the Nutcracker and Barbie as Rapunzel!”

“How the hell can you hear us from there?!” your sister let out a huge laugh at that, while you grumbled under your breath to get out and show them a funny shit, and Joel looked between you two confused, being not well-versed into the many movies you had been watching because of those kids.

“What the hell are those?”

“trust me, you will know them better than your own name when Sarah grows up...” you groaned even more when he chuckled and the most breathtaking smile overtook his face, which made you smile even brighter and let out a shy chuckle.

But obviously, it was a disgusting sight for the eleven years olds.

“It ain’t my fault you don’t know the legendary movie of the century sir, seriously I don’t wanna be an adult... Anyways we’re goin’ sleeping!” they groaned at the love-sick smiles you two were giving to each other, silently betting when you would get together with him.

“You better, kids. I’m not taking your asses out that bed tomorrow!” and that was their final warning before they scurried of to their beds which made you sigh and dart out of the door,remembering all the things you had to write.

But you didn’t forget to turn back and give Joel a thumbs up. “The movie night starts at 8 p.m tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you.”

And only thing Joel could do, was to make a thumbs up back, and even when he laid down on the bed next to his daughter’s crib, he couldn’t stop the excited beating of his heart. He turned to look at her sweet face with a hand over his heart and chuckled into the deep silence of the night.

“You showed off your picking the right person talents huh, kid?”

#joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou x reader #tlou series #tlou imagine #tlou x you #tlou hbo #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine

[sadlybeans]

No More Batman AU Part 2: Robin Lives.

(Part 1)

The light rain turned into a downpour that clouded the entire city. From the porch of the manor you couldn’t even see the gate at the end of the driveway, and the wind was so strong that Damian was already soaked to the bones where he sat on the steps that led to the huge double doors. If someone was home, they mustn’t have heard the taxi through the rumble of thunder above their heads, and so nobody had bothered him in the two hours he had spent there.

Damian wasn’t a stupid child, he never even had the slightest chance of being naive and innocent, but he still sat there looking out towards the faraway gate he could barely make out, waiting for someone to come pick him up. Someone who was never coming back.

The door opened and someone audibly tripped over the boxes and suitcases lined right in front of it.

“Fuck! What the….?”

The dark sky was momentarily lit up by lightning.

“… Hello?”

Time had run out, they had finally noticed he was here, and there were still no headlights coming in the distance.

“Hey, are you alright? Can you hear me?”

Damian slowly untangled his cramped limbs and stood up, turning around to find himself face to face with the vaguely familiar face of a man around Jason’s age. His first instinct was to want to lie, to say he had been left there by mistake, that he needed a ride back to the city. He wanted to ask for a phone so he could call his mother to get him, or to mark a number that was already deactivated.

“M-My name is Damian Al-Ghul” he stuttered against his will, trembling so much he couldn’t keep his voice steady. His tone was still quiet and mostly emotionless despite that, and through his half blurry vision he could tell the man was shocked by his answer. Well, he would get another bomb dropped on him. “Bruce Wayne is my biological father”

He could have screamed and raged, maybe try to get his hands on something sharp and attempt patricide despite the low chance of success. He could have also shown his disdain towards all of Wayne’s charity cases, or snapped at Wayne himself for treating him like a child. He could have smashed every single stupid decorative vase in his room out of spite and then escape through the window for good measure… but for once in his life, Damian Al-Ghul was too exhausted to throw a tantrum.

His heart had been ripped out of his chest and all that was left was a far away numb pain, and his mind kept telling him ‘It’s alright, see? It doesn’t hurt that much’. But with every second and every breath that tiny scratch became a festering wound that kept growing larger and larger— his eyes hurt but they were dry, because not even his tears could bring any relief, they just made it all the more real.

His mother had prepared him since he was a little boy to one day say goodbye, he had always known that one day he would he in this manor, in this room, and she would be somewhere far away and out of his reach. He had always expected it, and he had always known that she would be there whenever he came back to her.

Jason Todd was, and would always be, the worst thing to ever happen to him.

When he had first met him, undead and full of too much rage, he had been an annoyance. He tolerated him because mother asked him to, because he wasn’t half as useless in some ways and he could teach him about things that his mother either couldn’t or wouldn’t. Jason was a thread connecting him to his father and nothing more, a nuisance, an aggravating asshole that found too much pleasure in making Damian lose his cool.

And then, as months blended out into years he learnt to tolerate him and appreciate that, maybe, he hadn’t been so right in his initial assessment on Jason’s capabilities. As he grew older he began to realise that he preferred his company to that of his grandfather’s assassins because unlike so many of the adults around him, Jason listened. Damian had never treated him too kindly and yet he was patient and he stuck to his side no matter what.

That fool had worn down his walls until he could break through, and it was so confusing and so infuriating to feel warm when he was there, a feeling that only one other person in this Earth was worthy of.

He had let down his guard, let Jason hold his heart in his hands, and all he got in turn was this.

Damian had never truly meant anything to him, when he had meant everything to Damian.

“…mian? Damian, are you listening?”

He finally looked up and fixed his passive stare on Richard Grayson, pointedly avoiding to look at Wayne.

“Yes”

Grayson looked concerned and Damian wanted to punch him or stab him for it. Who did he think he was? Why did he believe he could do anything to make it hurt any less? He didn’t know anything of his pain.

“I was saying… we know this is going to be a bit of a tough adjustment for everyone, but we’ll do our best to make you feel welcome, ok? This is your house now and- and you can ask for whatever you need”

For a second his eyes flickered around at the sober decorations and soft lighting of the room that made it seem welcoming, and he hated that it felt much warmer than his grandfather’s palace.

“I don’t want to”

Grayson blinked.

“You don’t want to… ask for anything?” he dumbly guessed.

Damian pursed his lips.

“I don’t want to stay here” he stated clearly this time “I don’t care about him“ he vaguely and sharply gestured towards Wayne “or about his house. If mother wants me to live in Gotham for a time I will, but I don’t want to be here, I won’t. I refuse”

He crossed his arms over his chest in what could’ve been an attempt at seeming more serious, but was actually a shield between them. The silence that followed was long and tense.

“Listen, I know that I have not been a father to you, and I don’t expect that you would think of me as one” Wayne finally spoke, slowly and calmly as to not set him off, and that was even more irritating than if he wasn’t trying to be understanding “If you don’t want me to ever be your father then- that’s your choice. But for now, being here is safest for you”

Safe… what did it matter if it was safe or not? He had grown old enough to take care of himself with tooth and nail if he had to, he wasn’t some innocent sheep— he was a trained assassin, skilled and sharp, and even if he didn’t look the part his hands were already drenched in blood.

“I want to go home” he spat out, lowering his gaze again.

“Well why don’t you give it a chance?” Grayson tried to lighten the mood that was quickly falling “Just for a couple weeks, and if you don’t like it then you can leave”

“I want to go home”

The stubbornness in his voice was one hair away of turning into desperation, and that open hole in his chest was burning so intensely he could feel it physically now, barely short of interfering with his breathing.

“Thalia wants you to stay for a while but you will go back eventually” Wayne tried to say that because of course he did, of course he would use his mother to get him to stand down.

“I don’t want to be here, not with you!” the hurt and the anger were finally spreading to his lungs and his throat, demanding to be let out “This is all your fault!”

Grayson seemed about to pipe in but Wayne put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I understand” no he didn’t “I don’t want to force you to stay, Damian. But Thalia sent you here, she is asking me to look after you, so I have to try”

“I don’t want you, I want to go home!”

“This is going to be home for now”

“NO!” the last string holding him together snapped and he finally screamed because no matter how hard he tried, nobody listened unless he made himself heard “THIS ISN’T HOME, YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER!”

Damian hadn’t carried any weapons on his person since they moved and he deeply regretted that choice at the moment, so he picked up a paperweight from the desk and threw it at Wayne, grabbing for anything else that was within reach in a frenzy. Pens, glass trinkets, a lamp, a phone, a sand clock— they all landed where he intended and Wayne took it, stunned at his outburst. Grayson scrambled to try and catch the projectiles, which meant he couldn’t stop him from grabbing more.

“I hate you, I don’t want to be in your stupid house!” he grabbed a book and it slipped past Grayson’s fingers, one of the hardcover corners hitting Wayne on the forehead hard enough to leave a bleeding scratch “I want my baba, I want to go home with baba!”

There was a beat of silence, and then nothing.

It had just… come out.

When Damian turned nine he had finally stopped saying ‘Todd’ and had moved onto ‘Jason’. When he turned eleven he sometimes threw in ‘ahki’, but when he turned thirteen he stopped any of those altogether and never once adressed Jason directly again. Mother always knew why, because of course she did, but she never tried to pressure him into voicing it… Jason on the other hand, never noticed how Damian never called for him even when they were in opposite sides of their apartment and instead chose to walk directly into his line of vision whenever he wanted something, never noticed how he pointedly avoided answering people when they asked what they were to each other.

At first he didn’t really know how to say it… and at the end, he had realised that he couldn’t say it because it wouldn’t matter any longer.

So here he was, standing in front of complete strangers that he was supposed to accept as family, calling for a man who didn’t even know he held such title.

The study was a mess of broken things and tense silence, but there was no more screaming. He turned around, scarily silent and with complete blankness covering his features once more. He opened the door and let his feet bring him back to the impersonal room where his things were piled up on.

Baba isn’t coming back.

Bruce couldn’t be the only one who saw it, the only one whose blood ran cold every time the shadow of his recently found fifteen year old son passed by a hallway, and every day that passed the other members of the family started to see it too, even though they hadn’t known the person he was eerily similar to. A swear jar that hadn’t been used in years rested upon the kitchen mantle with a good few bills and coins inside, books that were rarely ever touched pulled from the shelves of the library, the echoes of loud music coming from the always shut door of a teenage boy… it was all like they were living with a ghost.

And the more he thought about it the more he saw it and the more painful it became; Damian was so much like Jason. From the way his eyebrows dipped in a frown to his cat like walk— how he held his fork at dinner and how he passive aggressively reorganised everything to his liking, how he muttered curses under his breath and how he dressed. His sweet tooth, his distrustful demeanour, his speech patterns…

It hurt.

Not a day had passed in the last ten years that he didn’t think of his little boy and the agonising pain of losing him, not one. When he woke up every morning he did it with the foolish hope that it had all been a nightmare and that he would find all his children downstairs having breakfast, when he returned home from work he still expected to be ambushed at the door by Robin trying to take Batman by surprise, and when he laid down in bed for the night a part of him still said; “It’s alright, he will be here tomorrow”.

He was everywhere, in every TV commercial about cereal (“That’s just fake advertisement, /this one/ is clearly superior”), in every child that ran past him in the streets (“Hurry up! If you don’t move the tickets will sell out and it’s a limited time exhibit!”), in every flash of superhero merchandise (“Oh my god B, look! It’s me! It’s my Robin! I have to buy one for Big Bird!”), in every scholarship signed by his hand (“You can’t throw this away, one day when I become a famous author you can have interviews and say it was your genius son’s first story”).

Buses (“You need to know how to use public transport, you’re an embarrassment”).

Cars (“I did steal all four tires, you just lie every time you tell the story”).

Loud punk songs on the radio (“You wouldn’t get it, you’re old”).

Laughter echoing in the distance (happy, he had been so happy, he had believed in him and trusted him).

… The news.

(Agonising screams and blood, oh so much blood, all over concrete and dust and bright yellow fabric, a small broken body held in too rough hands- you did this, it was your fault, he would still be alive if you had been a good father, you never deserved him, you don’t deserve any of them)

Jason was everywhere, and yet nothing could ever fill the gaping wound that his absence had made, none of those fragmented memories could ever be enough…. and now he was there in that manor, in the shape of a boy that hated Bruce’s guts, of someone so familiar and so alien at the same time.

“I’m fine”

Bruce dared lift his head to stare at Damian, who tensely stood in the study as he held the phone to his ear, his mother at the other end of the line.

He was slender like any other boy his age, and the oversized hoodies he wore every single day didn’t help in analysing him further but Bruce wasn’t naive enough to believe Thalia hadn’t trained him throughly…. he was grandson to the Demon’s Head, after all. His hair was silky straight much like Bruce’s, but completely pitch black like Thalia’s, and he too shared her bronze skin tone and the shape of his nose. His sharp eyes and eyebrows were all Bruce however, even the small and barely visible moles under his left eye and right side of his chin. His eyes though… they weren’t like either of them. Thalia’s eyes were green but they weren’t as green as Damian’s were, unnervingly bright as if… as if the Lazarus Pit itself resided in them. If Thalia was to be believed, he had never been put inside it so it was indeed simply a little disturbing.

Whatever Thalia said on the other end frustrated Damian, who frowned and interrupted; “When is baba picking me up?” he demanded “I want to go home”.

Silence, and then Bruce heard her faint voice.

“… He’s not here, dear. You know the deal, I don’t know where he is anymore”Damian’s knuckles became white as his grip on the phone tightened. “I’m sorry my love, I know you miss him but he will find a way to contact you eventually, and then you can tell him all about staying with your father”

“…”

“I know this is strange but you will be fine, your father is a good man and he will look after you, even if it’s not like home. I’m sure he could even train you if you ask”

“…”

“You need to give yourself time, hmm? I promise it will become easier if—“

“Why did he abandon me?”

Bruce inhaled softly and Thalia shut up entirely. Not unlike the first time he had seen his son, he looked utterly devastated and wrecked while still managing to keep his body upright and his expression vacant. His green eyes however, they were tainted with unshed tears.

“He didn’t abandon you, my love…”

“I know he doesn’t want me anymore” he interrupted again “I just. I… I want my baba”

Finally a couple tears made it past his eyelashes and left their mark as they soon vanished into the collar of his hoodie.

“Why am I not enough?” he choked out, sniffing and blinking as if to try and stop the torrent “What did I do wrong?”

“That’s not it, baby, he loves you, this is probably hurting him as much as it is you—“

Damian seemed like he wanted to lash out and scream, but instead he suddenly hung up the phone and set it down harshly atop the desk, furiously wiping his tears away.

You have to be careful, Dick had warned him after that explosive first impression, you’re his biological father but you’re not his dad, and you can’t pretend you are. If you try and take that place he will resent you.

“Damian, wait—“

The boy froze just before he left the studio and Bruce walked to catch up, taking a deep breath.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but just— listen, alright?” Those bright death-lit green eyes glared daggers at him but he didn’t run off just yet. “This is being hard for all of us, and I would love to get to know you and spend time with you… but!” he quickly intercepted him from leaving again “I don’t want to disrespect you, and if you feel like you don’t need me… I can’t stop you from feeling that way. You want to go home and that’s fair, so how about we compromise?”

Damian remained silence for a long moment, and then finally made a small subtle head gesture as if to tell him to go on. Bruce almost let out a sigh of relief.

“You stay here for a while and we try to be civil to each other to make your mother happy. In the meantime you can look for your, uh, baba, and once you’re ready you can leave”

Hopefully, with just the tiniest chance, Damian might find him tolerable, or he would stay long enough for Bruce to know him. When he left he would’ve lost another son, but at least he would know he’d be safe and happy with the person he actually considered a father… with his real family.

“… You won’t tell me what to do”

“If it’s within reason then— yes, I suppose”

He could almost see the gears turning as the boy quickly analysed every possibility and how each choice could affect the outcome. Was it worth it? Had he offered enough?

“I want something, only one thing” the boy said slowly, quietly but surely.

“What is it?” he asked, eager to know and grant it.

Damian looked at him and his eyes were burning.

Gotham nights were cold and quiet, as far as anyone is concerned to measure in a Gotham scale. For the past decade Batman had been little more than a myth, refusing to entertain the rogues any longer and doing his work in the shadows. Blurry sightings and vague stories was all that remained of The Bat, and only occasionally you would see one of his batlings soar through the skies.

Gotham nights were cold and quiet and nothing ever disturbed them anymore.

At least not until a blur of colour is seen again.

#batman #batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #jason todd raised damian wayne #no batman au #fanfic #batfamily fanfic #angst #angst with a happy ending #family feels #wip

[olderthannetfic]

please, send help. i (23y/o) think i am getting to a stage where I need to be a Cool Aunt TM for my niece (13y/o). She's been a bit too online since she had to move around a lot. She had a bit of antis mentality, but i'm trying to pull her away from it slowly. At the same time, she's been around the internet, reading 18+ yaois and shit. I did the same at her age, so I can’t say I don't understand her. But as an adult idk how to talk about this 18+ healthily with her? or do I even need to? should I leave her on her own devices? I didn't have an adult to talk about these things with growing up so idk how you're supposed to do this.

There is not way to say how my parents or sibling (her mom) would react if I drop this on them, could be +/- , but it's a bit of a lottery depending on the most recent online articles they read lately. lol. They're open to convos, but a bit religious.

I'm taking suggestions if anybody would like to give some.

P.S. I am also not a cool person, i'm pretty much a lame homebody so… i also don’t know how to be cool lol.

im so sorry idk who else to ask.

--

Ahaha. Well, don't try too hard to be ~cool~. Nothing could be more offensive to the sensibilities of a 13-year-old.

A well delivered "Oh, come on, no one really thinks that" and eye-roll in response to the more delusional anti stuff has a wonderful effect if you're offline and the person respects you. Humans in general and 13-year-olds in particular are hypersensitive about fitting in. A boring and serious lecture from an older person will set off every melodramatic "The old people don't understaaaand!" instinct, but a well-timed "LOL, WTF" causes internal panic that one has missed something. If she wants the serious and nuanced explanation, she can ask for it, but I wouldn't start there.

As for how you talk about raunchy art... it really depends on the person. If she realizes you like the same stuff, she may bring it up. I think recs are fine, and so is euphemistic "I liked the ship dynamic in this one". "I got off to this" is TMI on your part. (Well, it's TMI on her part too, but be prepared for TMI if you become the confidant of a 13-year-old.)

Honestly, as long as she's directing the conversation and you aren't sharing details of your masturbation habits, I think you'll be fine. 13-year-olds aren't babies. If they're old enough to read porny doujinshi, they're old enough to talk to a trusted adult about them.

My teen tastes were weird art films full of sex. 13 is pretty young, but within a couple of years, she'll be the age I was when I was trying to see shit like Crash. She could be anywhere from self-assured in her tastes and interested in discussing her favorite media to easily-influenced to paralyzed by guilt. Creepy grooming shit comes from groomers choosing to groom, not from the topic of sexuality being in the air. If she's reading something with even a shred of plot or romance, you can talk about that without the actual conversation being X-rated. My main concern would be to avoid her trying to impress you by consuming media she finds uncomfortable or talking about things she doesn't actually want to share. You can really only judge that by body language and tone of voice in the moment.

I mean... does "18+ yaois" mean actual BL series here that have a few sex scenes or doujinshi that are entirely porn? ('Yaoi' basically means 'PWP' and is not exactly complimentary, after all.) It's somewhat harder to talk about the latter. But I liked some pretty out-there shit as a teen and did talk to adults about it. They just let me do most of the talking.

Probably the easiest way to broach the topic is to catch her reading something and go "Oh, I read that one" or "I liked [name of BL]".

[local-lamppost]

Utena’s Caged Intelligence

Something of a continuation of this.

TL;DR Ohtori, like pretty much every school, was not designed for those with developing intelligence (like middle schoolers) to be able to grow and flourish.

So I’ve gone over a little bit of the initial curiosity of Utena and how that diminished, but I wanted to address some topics I might have missed because I mainly focused on Utena’s logic.

When I say logic, I mean her matter of fact/overtly blunt manner of problem solving. She forces her way through problems headstrong, making her solutions equate to the dumb joke stereotype. She sees things in a straight line in a world that is determined to pave only curved roads. Her logic makes her the biggest moron in a world of the illogical. This can actually be seen in Miki as well. Miki is an artist at heart, but doesn’t think he can express himself that way because of the “feminine” nature he’s been taught the language of art is. Miki tries to translate his artistic thoughts into logical dialog, and because of his inability to correlate his mind and voice it makes him one of the easiest characters to manipulate; he’ll mimic what those around him says-especially after an emotional moment-because that must be how a regular “logical” speaker would act.

Utena is similar to a degree, she’s just in no way self aware. Less frantic than Miki, but easier to condition once you can tug Utena’s logic away from her own and onto someone else’s (Akio’s).

Utena is not allowed to come to her own conclusions. Akio or Anthy or whatever student council member has been enlisted are all quick to put her in situations that derive her of exploring other options. It becomes that the best way to solve her problems is to go along with the duels (to the point that she challenges Touga to a duel purely for herself and her own issues, because that’s how problems are solved at Ohtori).

I think the best way to dumb this thought process down is to think that everyone is playing a game. Utena plays by the book and is a naturally very skilled player, others will have mind games or better items to try to gain an upper hand; but then there are players like Touga, Akio, and Anthy who have cheats enabled, but Utena is unable to realize this.

Lastly, the point that can slip people’s mind is that Utena is 14 and the people pulling the strings are all older than her/more experienced. Akio is in his twenties or thirties(not even counting that he might be a magical immortal deity), Touga is both an upper classmen but someone who appears to be living the most ‘adult’ lifestyle of all the underage duelists (the mindest for them is very much sex=maturity/power), and Anthy’s bread and butter is preparing sacrifices for her brother(as well as being a maybe immortal witch).

Her age is Utena’s greatest detriment in the game she’s playing. The only characters that get manipulated as much as she does are Miki and Nanami (Nanami especially) and they are the youngest of the duelists. Yet there are the scant few times it gives her strength, such as her duel with Wakaba (but even then, this duel gave Akio that firm line in the sand he would need to eliminate to further bring Utena under his control).

A school is supposed to be where you go to grow your logical intelligence, while being placed in an environment meant to grow your social intelligence. Ohtori, under Akio’s direction, does not comply to this standard: they value the independence of the students. Something that sounds good, until you remember that these are kids still in need of support, support Akio is glad to provide as he frames himself as the only truly mature and reliable presence in these children’s lives.

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena #utena #anthy #the rose bride #akio ohtori #touga kiryuu #miki kaoru #ohtori academy #it phsysically makes me ill to talk about Akio #i hate him so much he's that well written #i want to write something about him but my disgust for that insect makes it difficult #ride your stupid carousel while utena helps anthy to save herself #no other character illicits such contempt and loathing from me

[666writingcafe]

Sibling Bonding

Luke

I'm scared.

The look on Simeon's face...that's going to be in my nightmares, no doubt about it.

This room is only a temporary sanctuary--and not a very good one at that--but it's the best I have at the moment.

Someone knocks on the door.

"Go away!" I yell. I don't want to see Simeon right now.

"Luke, it's okay. It's just me." Oh. It's MC. The one person that can comfort me right now.

I get off the bed and sheepishly open the door, allowing them to enter. They sit down at the desk, leaving me to return to my position on the bed.

"Are you okay?" Three simple words, and yet they're enough to make me tear up. I was trying to keep my composure in the dining car, since I knew Mammon would tease me for crying.

Speaking of which, why was he picking on me? I mean, we're far from being best friends, but as we were preparing for the trip, we both were really excited about it. He even helped me pack some of my things. So, I don't understand the sudden switch.

Unless somehow merely mentioning Michael triggered something in him, and I just happened to be the closest thing he could lash out against. But that wouldn't make much sense, either; Michael's not a bad person.

"I-I'm sorry for behaving like that in the dining car." I choke up as the tears begin rolling down my face. "I k-know I embarrassed you b-back there." MC leans forward and grabs both of my hands.

"You were reacting to someone bullying you. Perhaps you could have handled that better than you did, but you're still growing. I don't expect you to have the emotional maturity of an adult, angel or otherwise." It's strange, hearing those words. Everyone else expects me to act older and tease me if I don't, and yet they talk to me like I'm a little kid.

Not MC. Not even once.

"If anything, I ought to be apologizing to you." Huh?

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong." MC smiles slightly, gently squeezing my hands.

"Not intentionally, but nevertheless I am partially to blame for Simeon's outburst." They clearly see the confused look on my face, for they add,

"When I saw Simeon start to become irritated, I grabbed his hand to try to soothe him."

"Like you are right now with me?" They nod.

"Part of my power comes from the pacts I have with the seven Avatars of Sin. The physical connection of our hands caused that power to meet up with Simeon's frustration and give it more energy. By the time we realized what was happening, the connection became too strong for us to break it ourselves. The energy had to release itself on its own."

"Kinda like a circuit."

"Exactly."

"I didn't know you could even do that!"

"Neither did I." I don't like seeing MC sad. I know that they can't be happy all the time, but I want them to experience more good than bad. They deserve it.

Besides, how can they know something they weren't taught?

MC lets go of my hands, gets up, and starts walking towards the door.

"Wait!" They stop and turn towards me.

"Yes, Luke?" I'm not even sure if I should bring this up. It's the type of thing most people would tell me I'm too young to understand before changing the subject to something more "appropriate". It's rather annoying, actually. I hate being underestimated simply because of my age. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm stupid.

"There's something I've been wondering for a while now.

"Which is?" Well, here goes nothing.

"Why does Michael still care about Mammon and his brothers? I mean, they may have been angels once upon a time, but not anymore. They're demons now. They did something awful enough to warrant being cast out of the Celestial Realm."

MC's initial hesitation worries me. Are they finally going to dismiss me the way everyone else has?

"Relax, Luke. I'm not ignoring you. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to answer your question."

"Really?" MC nods.

"I may not be able to tell you everything, but that doesn't mean I can't give you some information. I mean, you're not a little kid anymore; you're old enough to know about certain things." An idea must have come to MC in that moment, for they walk back over to the desk and start rummaging through its drawers until they find a piece of paper and a pencil.

"Come on over, Luke," they instruct, sitting down. Once I'm standing next to them, they turn the paper horizontally and draw two dots on either side of it.

"Let's say that these dots represent the pinnacle of good and evil." MC writes the two words down underneath the dots. "Do you see all this empty space?"

"Yes."

"That represents all the different combinations of good and evil. Some things are easier to contribute to one or the other." MC draws some smaller dots around the two original dots. "But most things in life exist in this space in between. Am I making sense so far?" I nod my head, allowing them to continue.

"Now, there are many factors that make deciding if something is good or bad rather complicated. I think the one that's pertinent to your question is this one." MC writes down the word "love" on the paper. "As you've stated, the brothers were once angels. Would you say that the residents of the Celestial Realm act like one big family?"

"Yeah."

"Then it would make sense for Michael to feel that way about the brothers. It's hard to cut ties with people you hold near and dear to your heart, even if they've hurt you in some way."

"Then why cast them out of the Celestial Realm to begin with?" The question slips out of my mouth before I can stop myself. "I mean, if Michael loved them so much, then he should've just forgiven them." That prompts MC to write down the word "politics".

"Michael's kind of like the Vice President of the Celestial Realm, right?"

"I mean, I suppose so. I hadn't thought about it like that before."

"But you understand why I made that comparison, right?" MC looks at me expectantly, and I realize that they want me to actually explain why. They're quizzing me, in a way.

"Well, a Vice President has a lot of power, but they still have to answer to the President. The Vice President can't just do whatever they want." They smile at me.

"Very good. Now, obviously I wasn't there at the time, but I can guess that God issued the order to Michael to cast the brothers out to the Celestial Realm. If he failed to do so, then he would face punishment of some kind. Perhaps he'd be kicked out as well, or worse. Whatever it was, it was severe enough for him to decide it was better to follow orders than it was to push back against them."

"Even if he didn't want to see the brothers leave?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Love sometimes has to bow down to politics. It sucks, but life isn't always fair. It can be awfully cruel at times."

"Do you think the brothers hate angels? If so, then all of Michael's love is in vain. They'll never love him back." MC grabs my hands again.

"I think that deep down, they miss the Celestial Realm and the people in it. It's just that the love they may still have towards that place often gets clouded by other emotions."

Oh no. I'm going to be in so much trouble. I can't start second-guessing Michael's judgement. That's totally not okay.

"Luke, look at me." MC can sense that I'm freaking out. "Despite of what people tell you, you are allowed to question why things are the way they are. It's part of learning. Don't ever let anyone take your curiosity away from you."

"O-okay."

"If they have a problem with it, they'll have to go through me." They pause. "I will do everything in my power to protect you, Luke."

"Why?"

"Because you're part of my family." I let go of MC's hands, only to hug them seconds later.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"You're welcome." When we separate, I notice something on their hand that wasn't there before.

The Star of Generosity.

It suits them.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me luke #obey me michael #i give you a pallet cleanser in the form of wholesome content #it's necessary before the next course

[lets-try-some-writing]

Hi! I was looking through the Transformers Prime tag and came across your blog! I kinda like your au where Jack, Raf and Miko became sparklings! If you have the energy for it, maybe could you write them growing up? If not maybe a drabble where Cliffjumper was able to hold his own against the vehicons until backup arrived?

Well I have already written something similar, so how about the little ones getting just a tiny bit older and reaching some milestones?

Milestones

Back during the age of evolution, sparklings were feral monstrosities that grew to their adult frames within a vorn and were mentally able to operate at the capacity of a grown bot, albeit with emotional stunting to deal with. But ever since Cybertron became more civilized, sparklings stopped emerging so wild. Their survival instincts were replaced with higher cognitive functions and more complex frame types that required longer to develop. This in turn meant that as a general rule, sparklings took vorns upon vorns to reach full size and maturity. But due to this slow development, changes were sometimes hard for guardians to see, so milestones were observed, documented, and served as a celebration not too dissimilar from human birthdays.

It was always a joyous occasion when a sparkling reached a milestone simply because it took them so long to grow in any capacity. So when the sparklings began showing signs shortly after their growth spurts and the acquisition of their Decepticon secondary Caretakers, everyone was ecstatic. Even June and Fowler found themselves somewhat giddy and were brought in to watch the sparklings begin testing the limits of their frames despite the overall distaste toward them ever since the incident.

To the surprise of the team, it was not Jack or Miko who showed signs of reaching a milestone first, no, it was Rafael. The team were waiting on a baited breath for days as they kept as close an optic on the little ones as possible. They had each been outfitted with recording devices and their optics had been looped back to the base's database just in case they couldn't snap a picture in time. Milestones were nothing to be taken lightly, so even Soundwave and Starscream agreed to being temporarily hooked up, although Soundwave was put in a private channel to keep him from messing with anything important. So when Rafael began shifting around and making noise, every bot was ready, with even the human adults prepared with their own devices.

Rafael had been on the ground playing in the evening one day, and shortly after Soundwave arrived at base, the minicon sparkling's plating had begun to shift. In response the entire base fell silent, every bot and human present with their optics and eyes glued to the scene as Rafael's face scrunched up in concentration. Not a spark so much as twitched as Rafael's armor made an alarming pop before two small cables not too dissimilar from Soundwave's but definably not meant for combat wormed their way out from underneath his plating. The cables were pale, still very fragile, and covered in a protective jell that shimmered as they were exposed to the light. Immediately thousands upon thousands of individual snapshots were taken as Rafael flailed his newfound appendages in interest.

June and Fowler looked ever so slightly disgusted but overall happy at the development. They had both seen far worse in their respective fields of work. And while the bots were too busy cooing over the scene, June hopped down and began wiping off the sticky fluid covering Rafael's cables. The sparkling in turn giggled and unknowingly began wrapping his cables around June in a hug of sorts. She was swiftly covered in the fluid and gave up halfway through trying to clean it, much to the bots amusement.

Rafael was swiftly swooped up and tended to by Optimus who only managed to get there a second before Soundwave could. The Prime gave every other bot in base a look that screamed "I won", before sauntering toward the medical bay to clean Rafael off and then prepare for a little celebration. Once the sparkling was clean, he was showered with affection and passed around like the greatest treasure in the world. Every bot, Autobot and Decepticon, were left in awe as Rafael's new cables wrapped around the arm of whoever was holding him. It was the sweetest thing for the Cybertronians present, like a baby saying their first words or taking their first steps, the grown bots were swooning over the adorableness. Then once everyone had their chance to hold Rafael, the sparkling was sat down with an energon goodie as a reward while the team continued to coo over him.

It was a good day.

From that point on Rafael used his newfound cables for everything even when he didn't need to. If he wanted attention he would flail them in the air, the stark pale coloration of them causing them to stick out in the relative darkness of the base. When he was crawling around on the ground he would use them to attempt to reach up and grab things, more often than not knocking smaller things over as his cables were too weak to do much. Ratchet got freaked out every single time Rafael was allowed to roam and the little one proceeded to knock some of his things onto the ground with a startling clank. Rafael also began attempting to hook his cables into every nook and cranny he could squeeze them into, hence everything human sized being sparkling proofed for everyone's sanity.

Then once again to the surprise of everyone, it was not Miko who reached a milestone next, but Jack. The team had anticipated it after Rafael's milestone. Sparklings with siblings tended to reach milestones together as a way of making sure all sparklings in the group stayed on track. So it was not unreasonable for the team to be ready and on edge, prepared to see what milestone Jack would reach. At his age and with his frame type there were multiple milestones he could reach ranging from weapons specs or mods to alt-mode capabilities, so the team had to expect any possibility. Wheeljack even set up barriers around some corners just in case Jack developed something out of the ordinary like canons or some form of incredibly destructive weaponry. But thankfully for the entire base, no such destruction happened.

Jack had been quietly fiddling with his toy medical kit when he suddenly stopped, froze, and his plating began making clicking sounds. In response the bots once again stopped dead in their tracks, that is save for Wheeljack who dived behind cover. After a moment Jack's plating shifted and before anyone really understood what was going on, the sparkling had transformed into the simplest of alt-modes that was gifted to all sparklings. He had transformed into a small vehicle with no real distinguishing features aside from color and sped around the base before promptly crashing into a wall, forcing him to return to root mode.

Jack of course cried and was rather scared of his new skill for a while, but with the team cooing over him and telling him all about how amazing he was, he slowly became more open to the idea after a week or so. Optimus looked like the proudest dad in the world as he gave Jack some energon goodies in congratulations, took a few extra pictures, and then set him up with Bumblebee and Smokescreen to learn how to control his alt-mode. The sparkling's two elder brother were more than pleased to take Jack out into an uninhabited bit of flatland and work with Jack, slowly helping him get used to transforming and driving around in small circles. Ratchet was always kept on standby as more than once Jack drove right into a rock, tree, pond, or some other obstacle.

By the time Jack figured out how to use his newfound abilities, he quickly came to use it to his advantage. Whenever one of his siblings wandered off, he would transform and herd them back toward adults like some sort of mechanical sheep dog. He also got his alt-mode fitted with some sirens by Wheeljack (who certainly didn't do it to cause chaos while he flew off to who knows where), and whenever he wanted someone to come in for a "checkup" he would blare his sirens and drive around the pedes of the bot in question. It caused more than a few helm aches, especially when Smokescreen made the incredibly poor decision to teach Jack how to make donuts. But still the team found Jack adorable as he sped around base in his tiny alt-mode which was hardly the size of an adult human. June certainly found it amusing and had fun cleaning Jack up after his little drives.

Good times.

Then after nearly a month when the team were starting to get worried, Miko finally showed signs of reaching a milestone. Her previously inactive thrusters began showing sings of coming online, prompting the team to try and sparkling proof the base as much as possible. But after a week of her thrusters not activating, Starscream got irritated and so did the most seeker like thing the team has ever or will ever witness. He climbed up into the rafters as he would normally with Miko, and then without any warning he threw her and watched her fall apathetically. The team literally dived to catch her, with Ratchet skidding and sliding across the floor, Bumblebee and Smokescreen running into each other, Bulkhead and Wheeljack being too stunned to move, Arcee just looking on in horror, and Optimus making a mad dash to get her in time.

Thankfully for Starscream's health and safety, Miko's thrusters came on just in time for her to glide down into Optimus's waiting arms. And while Starscream was banned from base for a week afterwards, he was swiftly brought back when Miko began abusing her newfound abilities to fly where no one could reach her to avoid activities she didn't like. Before long, Starscream became a much needed necessity to get Miko to do just about anything as she would simply fly off, albeit clumsily. He had to teach her to fly safely since no one else could, and he had to fetch her whenever she decided she didn't want to do whatever was required of her.

Eventually Miko's thrusters were disabled medically when she flew directly into a wall and busted an optic. It was for the best, even though Starscream fought against the idea for a long while, proclaiming the need for seekers to fly. His argument was shut up when Optimus pointed out that none of the Autobots could fly and that her being able to get around when Starscream is not there is foolishness. Hence Miko was only permitted to fly whenever Starscream came around, not that it stopped the team from thinking her adorable.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #tfp kids as sparklings #team prime #starscream #optimus prime #not my best work #but I am tired and didn't have a ton of inspiration for this #sorry if its garbage

[honey-minded-hivemind]

OH I really like the idea of reader with an animalistic mutation! It could be something monster/werewolf-like, or possibly a different animal like a BEAR or some kind of big cat.

They'd have to be scared out of their wits, not able to rely on their powers and their enhanced senses doing nothing to help them out of this mess, because the pain they're in is blinding. Besides that they're caught up in freaking out at how their alive, despite all the gore and the wounds they're too scared to look at, they aren't dead, which makes no sense, and they want explanations that no one can give them.

On related note, If the kids did manage to slip away, somehow hiding under the radar for a few days even, I picture some sort of emergency forcing them to seek better refuge or certain supplies, and that's when their parents would catch up with them.

Lamb Anon

Ooooooo, that's good, thats good! I'm liking these asks, 🐑 Anon! I myself am always partial to a animal/feral mutation for Reader. And to top this situation off for you, and for everyone else? Imagine if Reader actually IS the blood child or relative of one the adults platonic yans. Maybe Reader was a child they gave up who only later wander back into their lives, only to later be ripped away by what had happened. Perhaps Reader was a mystery child they knew nothing about until after the event, and the guilt eats at them for never knowing their kid really WAS their kid by blood, too. Either way, it would only add fuel to the already massive fire that is the train wreck the kids are in. On a separate note, yes, the kids are also handling their own trauma due to dying? or almost dying, only to end up back in a world that they can't explain the changes of, but it's going rather poorly, not to mention they now have this to add to their growing trauma. It shouldn't be different, right, they couldn't have been down for long, the >,">#÷,/ only just happened, it's been at best maybe a day since what was done-

It hasn't been a day. It's not even the same year.

And they have no explanation why.

On a separate separate note, if the teens did escape the first encounter with their older, more grim and harrowing friends and family... They know they aren't out of the blue, not even close. They're dealing with people who know what they know, every plan and preparation and procedure for what to do if something goes wrong, how to track people, how to survive, places that are safe-

It's endless, how much they're out of their depth. They weren't sure they'd planned for this. That this was even a possibility. Sure, sure, they'd made a few safety precautions incase one or two of the teams' members went off the deep end or was mind controlled or possessed. They had never accounted for everyone being turned against them. And while yes, the four of them have powers and know how to use them, their powers (except possibly Reader's) aren't offensive. One of them can run really fast, faster than light if they want; one of them can walk through walls, doors, floors, anything; one of them can teleport anywhere within reason and within a two mile radius; and one of them has something that isn't any of that. Except they're all wounded, hurting, and traumatized. Fast guy can't run, phaser can't phase, teleporter can't teleport, and even though they could possibly afford to use their powers once or twice before complete collapse... they can't do so without leaving the others behind. And they don't want to leave anyone behind. So all they can do is stick together and hold out until they can make a better move. If only they have enough time to do so...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #platonic yandere xmen evolution au #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #🖤dark au

[coraniaid]

To the ever growing list of dead adult women in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Catherine Madison, Jenny Calendar, and Joyce’s friend Pat so far, with at least three more significant names to come over the next three years) we can now add Faith’s first Watcher.  This character never officially gets a name, but she’s called Diana Dormer in the Go Ask Malice tie-in novel and I’ll use that name too just to avoid typing out “Faith’s first Watcher” repeatedly.  ‘Diana’ has zero lines of dialogue and appears on screen for zero minutes (which is pretty bad even by the standards of this show) and after this episode she will never be mentioned by anyone again, but nonetheless I think she’s a very interesting character.

Even if Faith’s arc in Season 3 wasn’t fully planned out from the start, Faith, Hope & Trick establishes quite a lot of what her character will look like going forward.  In particular, we see signs of what she’ll later self-diagnose as a “problem with authority figures” in her initial enthusiasm about the possibility for “having fun” now that she’s “Watcherless and fancy-free”, and in the first of a handful of hints about the circumstances of her pre-Slaying life (“my dead mother hit harder than that”, she tells a vampire mid-fight).  

And we also see, at the end of the episode, that this posture of tough self-sufficiency that Faith assumes is something of an act: that her Watcher’s death has actually had a huge impact on her, one which she’s been trying and failing to suppress since before she arrived in Sunnydale.  It’s surely not a coincidence that we have a scene of Faith hurriedly packing and preparing to flee town this episode which mirrors the scene of Buffy doing the same thing just last episode.  After all, there was a part of the quote from Revelations I omitted earlier: the problem Faith has with authority figures is that “they end up kind of dead”.

What was Faith’s Watcher actually like?  The show doesn’t think to tell us; the writers simply don’t care. All we know about her from this episode, other than that she’s dead, is the vaguest of suggestions that she was older than Giles (since, on seeing Giles, Faith comments that she hadn’t “known they came that young and cute”) and perhaps that she was in rather better standing with the Watcher’s Council (Diana, after all, probably was invited to the retreat, or how else would Faith have known about it?).  We also know that Faith blames herself for not being able to protect Diana from Kakistos (“I was there […] I saw what he did to her [...] I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t.  And I ran.”).  

I think those scraps – a dead, possibly abusive mother who, we’ll learn later, spent a lot of time “enjoying the drinking and passing out parts of life”, and a dead Watcher she wasn’t able to save – explain a lot about how quick Faith is to bond with practically every adult who spends even five minutes making the effort.  From Joyce in this very episode (“your Mom’s really cool, huh?” she tells Buffy within minutes of meeting her, her loyalty bought by a plate of food and the promise of a second soft drink), to Gwendolyn Post in just a few episodes’ time, to the Mayor himself in the second half of this season. Faith has a problem with authority figures, in that she really desperately wants one in her life.

One last thought. 

Something I hadn’t really considered before – and which I’m not sure the writers thought through either – is that Faith knowing about the Watcher’s retreat (and assuming Giles would be at it) means her Watcher must have told her she was going to the retreat herself, presumably sometime shortly before she died.  And at this point, even assuming she was Called soon after Kendra died, Faith can only have known Diana for a couple of months.

So at some point soon after meeting her, and only shortly after finding out about being a Slayer, Faith’s Watcher must have had to sit her down and tell her that she’d be leaving the country for a bit, to go and hobnob and kayak and socialize with the other Watchers in England, and that Faith would have to look after herself again for a little while.  I can imagine Faith playing it tough, like it was no big deal.  Other kids might be scared, but not her.  She can take care of herself, after all, can’t she?

And then her Watcher died, right in front of her eyes, and it turned out that she couldn’t.

Still, this episode at least ends on a positive note.  “The Council has approved our request,” Giles tells Buffy at the end of the episode.  “Faith is to stay here indefinitely.  I’m to look after you both until a new Watcher is assigned.”  Things have been tough – as Buffy notes, Faith had “a lot to deal with” – but she’s got somebody else to look after her now, so everything’s going to be fine forever.

… right?

#btvs #buffy rewatch 2023

[dbs-scans]

Halloween Event 2023 — The Kamome Monster Nursery Monstagram Account (OLD)

Hello all! In this post, we've compiled the event hosted on AidaIro's Twitter account in 2023 to celebrate Halloween: a return to the Kamome Monster Nursery!

This time, we take a look at the nursery's new social media account...

This post is broken when viewed on our tumblr desktop theme! Check out the new version of the post by clicking here!

If you're on mobile, you should be fine. Go ahead and continue reading!

🎃Announcement🎃 To all nearby residents: First, allow us to express our gratitude to everyone for always being such good neighbors to our monsters and researchers. Tonight, we have taken it upon ourselves to review a common concern we receive: that our facility seems dangerous and gives people the creeps.

In light of this, we have decided to set up a social media account to allow all of you to see our monsters and researchers in action. By viewing the feats and day-to-day lives of our nursery, we hope it may help you better understand our noble mission. 🎃🎃🎃

—The large-scale social networking service, "Monstagram"... Apparently there's an account on there that posts not just the day-to-day lives of humans, but monsters as well...

What spine-chilling lives could these monsters possibly be leading? With shaky hands, I decided to take a peek at this "Kamome Monster Nursery" account on "Monstagram"...

There are already a few posts here. Now, which one should I view first...?

POLL:

【We're gonna bite'cha!】✅

【The Monster Prodigy】

【Aim to hollow out your opponent, and... Punch!】

【Who's up? ～Whispering Sweet Nothings・For Eternity...～】✅

Alright, let's open up Monstagram...

【Who's up? ～Whispering Sweet Nothings・For Eternity...～】 Oops! I accidentally clicked on a weird video! This man is treating me like a kitten. Is the sexy voice really necessary...? I think I'll go to sleep early tonight...

【We're gonna bite'cha!】 It's a video of three monsters practicing their dance moves. Their footwork's a mess, but you can tell they're giving it their all. I wonder if they're going to put on a show...?

—Setting aside that researcher's cryptic video, it seems to me that the monsters are planning something. What could it be...? Now, which one should I look at tomorrow?

POLL:

【The Monster Prodigy】✅ 【Aim to hollow out your opponent, and... Punch!】 【Outing With the Older Boys】✅

OK, let's open up Monstagram again...

【Outing With the Older Boys】 Three monsters are being lead through town by an adult monster and an adult human male. The monster in front is leading them with a flag. He's so cool and collected... wow... I've decided: in my next life, I want to be reborn as a flag!

【Target Spotted!】 I found the continuation to the last photo. It seems they went to the city to go shopping. The monster is pointing at a hat shop. I guess she found what she was looking for. That's nice.

【The Monster Prodigy】 The three monsters are practicing writing. There are envelopes and stationery nearby. Are they writing a letter to someone...? The one with the best handwriting out of the three of them seems to be the one with all the wings growing out of it. That one's so skilled, I... I can't even read it...

—I feel like I'm beginning to get an idea of what the monsters are planning. I'll take a look at the rest of the posts tomorrow...

I'm going to go on Monstagram today, too!

【Secret Nightly Routine】 I-I didn't know monsters could be this adorable...!! The secret to keeping her tail so fluffy is by brushing it daily and bribing it with cookies, it seems.

【Aim to hollow out your opponent, and... Punch!】 The Three Monsters are training. No way — are they preparing for battle...!? Maybe they're planning on beating somebody up. Monsters are awesome... ...

—Tomorrow it will finally be Halloween. I wonder how they're all going to spend it......

Looks like they didn't post any updates on Monstagram today. The monsters and researchers must be too busy to post anything.

Judging by the posts I saw, those monsters were probably doing all that work in preparation for today. I wonder if the three of them are enjoying Halloween with the researchers right now...? If they come to town, I'll hand out treats to them. ...

🎃 Happy Halloween! 🎃

#jshk #aidairo #twitter #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jibaku shonen hanako kun #halloween

[autisticlifelessons]

Tips for helping your autistic child thrive at home

So, I'm not a parent myself, but I did grow up in a household where both myself and my sibling (both AFAB) had undiagnosed autism, and we're pretty sure our father is autistic, too. I've also got some teaching experience where I supported neurodivergent children and their families. Based on this experience and my own research, here are some tips you can use at home to help your autistic child thrive. These are biased towards my particular experience and may not apply to your own child, but they should give you an idea of the sorts of things you can do.

Give lots of emotional reassurance - the world is seriously overwhelming for an autistic child. Children's brains are still developing, and the younger they are or the greater their needs are the more help they will need with co-regulation of their emotions. Bear in mind that, especially for AFAB children, they may mask heavily at school and present absolutely no behavoural problems only to come home and explode. This is because home is their safe place where they can show more authentically how they are really feeling.

Be led by your child's needs and interests, and be prepared for these to change over time - many autistic people develop intense interests in specific things, which are known as 'special interests'. The stereotypical special interests most people have heard of are things like trains, but be aware that some girls who are really, REALLY into ponies are actually expressing neurodivergent traits. Showing your support for exploring these interests is hugely beneficial (and makes present buying a breeze lol). Of course, autism is a spectrum and presents differently in different autistic people. Many like the structure of a routine, for example, but don't force a visual timetable on your child if this is clearly something that isn't helping them. As your child gets older, their interests and needs will change with them, so be prepared to adapt and keep the lines of communication open.

Be prepared to give your child extra support navigating friendships and social situations - for many autistic people, social situations are highly stressful for lots of different reasons, and for children who are still learning how to navigate in the world this is doubly true. Encourage your child to develop friendships with others who respect them, but accept that they may not always communicate in ways that are socially expected (eg they may prefer parallel play). Autistic children can sometimes be more vulnerable to bullying or being taken advantage of, so ensure your child knows how to communicate boundaries and what to do if another child (or adult) is causing problems. In more general social situations such as going to the doctor or on holiday, your child may be more anxious and unsure of what is expected of them. Practicing these situations before hand through 'make believe' play is a great way of giving them a chance to develop the appropriate social scripts and feel more at ease.

Be aware that co-morbid conditions are often present alongside autism - it is very common that autistic children will have at least one other physical or mental co-morbid condition (basically means it occurs alongside). My sibling, for example, also has ADHD, PTSD, BPD, anorexia, dyscalculia, anxiety, depression, IBS, anaemia, eczema and insomnia (and yes I DID get permission to share that, it's all in their insta bio anyway). Be on the lookout for other symptoms not necessarily covered by autism and advocate for your child to get the support they need. Another thing to bear in mind is that autism often runs in families - if you or your child's other biological parent recognise traits either in yourselves or in family members, there's probably a reason why.

I really hope my tips were useful to you. As I mentioned already, your child may have very different support needs from me. You know them best.

Follow me for more tips - both for autistic adults and teenagers and parents of autistic children.

#autism #autistic tips #actually autistic #autistic #autistic child #parenting #children #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #neurodiverse #special education #autistic parenting #education #families #audhd

[imagineitcreateit]

This is Not a Squad (Sully Family)

Mostly Jake x Neytiri x Reader but slight Lo’ak x Mother reader completely platonic.

Summary: You, Jake, and Neytiri have been mated since the first movie. Jake and you were always happy when Neytiri revealed that another kid was going to join the family. However, as the kids began to grow up, and the sky people returned, you began to notice Neytiri and Jake being more strict with the kids, specifically Lo'ak. 

(This takes place at the beginning of the movie when Jake and the family return from the train raid.)

I laughed a little to myself as I overheard Kiri and Spider's conversation. The boy going on about how blue war paint made him feel closer to the world around him. The conversation only became more funny as Kiri made witty remarks back at him. Today has been a nice day so far. We all woke up early to prepare for the raid today. The kids had run around and grabbed their gear. Neteyam and Lo'ak both being the most excited, it was their first raid with the adults, and even though they were both just scouts, they acted like it was the highest honor. Jake and Neytiri were the ones that went on raids, while you stayed back, typically with the kids, and although you missed Lo'ak and his brother, it was nice to not have two teens complaining about not getting to go and begging for you to talk to Jake about it. Kiri was thankfully a calm girl. Much more interested in healing and the world around her rather than shooting loud machines, Tuk was as always energetic, and although you could tell she missed using her brothers as playmates, she was satisfied with Spider and Kiri. Speaking of the rather excited child, as you mixed more war paint you looked over just in time to see her running towards your small group. "The war parties back cmon cmon" the little girl could barely keep herself from running off without you it seemed, to excited to see her other parents. Not that you could blame her, you were also just as excited. It was always exciting to know they had returned, though at times it could be stressful. You never knew who all was going to return. Tuk got ahead of you, and you watched in the distance as she hugged Neytiri. Behind them followed Jake, landing Bob ever so gracefully, Lo'ak and Neteyam following behind. You felt yourself smile at the sight of your family, however, that smile faded as soon as you saw your boys' faces. "Oh no" you whispered to yourself. You knew that down turned heads, the tensing of Jake's body, something had happened, something you knew would result in a strict talking to, and in the worst situation yell. you loved Jake, truly, that goofey warrior who had came to the clan with Neytiri all those years ago. You loved the man who played with your children in the river, that smile on his face as he chased the kids around. However, as the sky people returned and the raids became more frequent, as well as the boys getting older, that man had went from smiling all the time, to a strict father.  He no longer chased the boys around, not just because they were to old, but also because he had began to expect so much from them, specifically Neteyam. Lo'ak on the other hand, while Jake didn't expect as much from him, he still expected perfection. You knew Jake was only worried, over the years you've lost so many, starting with Neytiri's sister. Jake worried that fate would befall your children, and while you understood, you also didn't. The kids were exactly that, kids, children, expectations of perfection shouldn't have fallen on them yet or even to begin with in your opinion. As you got closer you watched as Jake began to yell at the boys, and the boys just took it, they kept their heads down in shame, and let their father tear into them. What else could they do? You frowned as you approached and began to hear bits of the conversation, "-you spot boogies and you call them in! FROM A DISTANCE!" Jake growled the last part "Does any of this sound familiar. Get here!" The boys continued to look down, Lo'ak only looking up for a second before he hung his head again. "Jesus I let you two fly a mission and you disobey direct orders!" At this point Kiri had reached the family, you following behind her. You watched as she walked around Neteyam, and it was than you noticed that he had been hurt. Worry overcame you, as you silently than Eywa that it seemed to be a scrape, likely from a fall. "Kiri will you go help your grandmother with the wounded, please?" It was clear Jake didn't want the girls around for this conversation, and although you didn't either, you knew neither of them would willing leave, they were stubborn like that. "My brother is wounded" Kiri snipped back as you walked back closer to Jake, "Kiri please, Tuk! Go with her! Go!" You put your hand on his shoulder, and saw him glace at you from the corner of his eyes. You lowered your head at him, a silent message, to let the boy go get help. Jake however, didn't seem to agree. Before you could verbally say something, Neteyam spoke up "Sir I take full responsibility--" "Ya you do, that's right cause your the older brother, you gotta act like it" Jake interrupted. You sighed as you looked at the boys, Lo'aks head was down and so were his ears, Neteyam was no better. Than Neytiri spoke up "Ma Jake, your son is actually bleeding", giving him the same silent look you had earlier, and this time he seemed to think about it. "It's fine" Neteyam mumbled, it was clear he was hurt, not just physically but emotionally. It seemed Jake had seen this to, as he relented. "Go on and get patched up, go on dismissed", and with that Neytiri and Neteyam were walking away. Although you wanted to follow, you still had one other son to look after. You watched as Jake turned his full body to him, "you do understand that you almost got your brother killed?..." "yes sir" was Lo'aks solemn reply, eyes downcast, ears downcast, head downcast. A boy that had so much personality now reduced to nothing by his fathers words. "Your ground no flying for a month. Tend to the Ikran, All of them!" Jake spoke, his words strict. "And get that crap off your face!" With that the conversation was over, nothing left to say. Jake looked at you, clearly still angry, and walked away. You turned as you hear Lo'ak sigh, before turning towards the Ikran. "Hey..." You slowly walked over to him, his eyes telling everything, a slight gloss to them. Putting your hand on his shoulder you turned him towards you, pulling him in for a hug. "You know he only wants the best for you right" you whispered. You however didn't receive a response, rather he just buried himself into your figure, like he was trying to escape the outside world. Knowing you would get nothing out of him, you simply hugged him tighter, what else could you do?

Later that night you approached Jake with Neytiri, having helped her wash away her war paint. Neytiri walked towards the tent, the kids all inside, helping patch up Neteyam. As she watched, you sat down beside Jake. He was fiddling with one of the guns. He looked over at you, and than to Neytiri. "What?" He asked, "Neteyam and Lo'ak try to live up to you, it is very hard on them." She said, her thick accent conveying her strong emotions. You couldn't help but almost sigh. You knew your opinion was shared with Neytiri, but bringing it up to Jake was more her thing than yours. "I know" Jake replied, his voice stern, not in the way it was with the boys, but rather in a different way. "You are very hard on them"  You finished her sentence as she crouching down beside you two. You looked at Jake, but he refused to look back at you, rather focusing on his gun, clicking something into place. "I'm my father that's my job" he finally looked up, over at Neytiri and than to you. "This is not a squad, it is a family" Neytiri said, her face show casing everything. Jake looked over at you, clearly looking for support, however, he got nothing, as you raised your eyes at him. A silent message. That was your role, the silent messenger. Finally Jake took a deep breath before finally putting his gun down. His eyes glazed over as tears began to build. "I thought we had lost him" he finally whispered, looking towards Neytiri. Her face softened, and you decided to once again step in. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you looked him deep in the eyes. You understood his panic, you all had been through it before, with the boys, and with other members of the clan. With no words to say, finally you just hugged him, let him recollect himself. Much like with Lo'ak, there was nothing that could be said. Only comfort. Neytiri moved closer, joining in on the hug, her face soft now.

#atwow x reader #atwow #avatar loak #loak x reader #jake x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #avatar the way of water

[sarabwawahm]

"The longer you live, the more you forget."

Summary: Marceline is still haunted by glimpses of her past.

Time heals. An undeniable truth, despite her wanting to scream and holler about it being wrong. They still hurted, all those discarded scars of heartbreak, but they were scars nevertheless.

Time certainly heals, and Marceline had all the eternity.

The tales of her long, long life distracted her, and she went on endless adventures just to keep it this way. She discovered new people in a new world, became so invested in it that sometimes she even wondered if her past was real, if it wasn't a prolonged dream she had while sleeping in Tree Trunks' field, if her life hadn't always been a happy mingle of fun and occasional reminiscence. She had no proof, after all, that it indeed happened. Her supposed Simon, the formerly genius scientist, had became a madman. She lost Hambo due to her bastard of a boyfriend..and her..

No. She was no illusion. Her voice would come to her in daydreams and nightmares. It was a memory, a memory she cherished and forever will. The loving voice would utter a sweet Linlin and the mighty Vampire Queen would gasp in pain. She no longer denied her loss, nor was she always mourning, but she had yet to accept. She very likely wouldn't. Not when her name was in the back of her throat, ready to call for her younger-big sister whenever something was too much to handle. Not when ocean eyes would stare back into her own in the soft blue flames of her stove before they turned red. Not when her ghost phantomed her thoughts if she lets them wander, omnipresent in the back of her mind and constantly prepared to resurface.

Marceline walked down the nighty beach, unbothered by the loud cries of the waves as she dragged her toes in the sand. For such a nocturnal hour, the place was pretty lively, a strangely familiar crowd formed to celebrate as if conflicts never existed. In contrast, Marceline felt a gloom growing within her, as if she slowly approached a cursed fate by her aimless stroll. She didn't bother, her emotions taking the little reason she had left and letting her feet lead her to a wooden house planted far away from the commotion. She frowned slightly, feeling a sudden urge to enter it. Never one to hesitate, she did, stepping in and forcing her eyes to get used to this random, complete, change of scenery. She wasn't surprised. This was Ooo, anyway, a land of abnormalities.

What shocked her, though, was the odd nostalgic feeling this space gave her.

A foggy weather. Fallen buildings. Eerily empty streets. A post-apocalyptic air.

Infantile giggles, and three figures could be distinguished amongst the chaos.

-"Sing it, Tricy! One more time!", the black haired little girl spoke.

-"Oh, Linlin, don't you think we sang it plenty of times?"

Marceline's breath hitched, and she instinctively inched closer to the trio. Simon's soft expression gleamed in the campfire, his aspect holding remains of sanity and his hair barely having strands of white. He stared fondly at the two girls, amused and warmed by the joy of his proteges.

-"Please, My Sister!", little Marceline extended the plea, using the name she knew the older girl loved.

Beatrice looked at the girl in her lap with breaf awe, before she hid it behind layer of playfullness, chuckling at her sister's innocent insistance.

-"Alright, alright. One last time!" Little Linlin cheered at that, then snuggled her head in the Beatrice's neck. It felt like home.

The voice started singing, and the adult vampire, standing a tad nearer to the group than she was previously, watched longingly as the melody she knew by heart was murmured again.

'Thank you, i'll say goodbye soon.'

As the continuous loop of words emerged her.

'Though it's the end of the world, don't blame your self now.'

As a buried hope stired up within her.

'And if it's true, i will surround you..'

As the bittersweet dream filled her with an unbearable comfort.

'And give life to a world'

As she craved what the verses promised.

'That's our own.'

#adventure time x reader #adventure time oc #character x oc #marceline #ice king #platonic!reader #adventure time