#avuncular

[overtsexting]

Finally, I have found the Fire Emblem Incest Oasis. Please, tell me your thoughts on Saizo/Kaze and Chrom/Owain.

This post gets a cut!!! I try to remember to do that when I ramble on 😌

While I’m not particularly head empty about saizo/kaze it is lowkey what got me to play fates… my friend sent an image of the hubba tester…

I saw that, got head empty, read all 4 fics in the saizo/kaze tag, discovered someone had modded an s support for them, learnt more about the nohrsibs and the fact that camilleo is semicanon, read all those fics too, and then FINALLY received the new 3ds charger off amazon I was waiting for, so I could play this game. And promptly learnt to mod it. All in the span of like… a week.

Consider, though, a Saizo who does everything he does for Kaze? But can’t articulate that or express it to him? And a Kaze who distrusts him, who thinks that the reason Saizo keeps him in the dark and left in the first place is because he doesn’t care for him at all… who expects Saizo to leave him again.

Needless to say, while they’re not at the forefront of my mind they did kick off the whole fates thing!!!!! I do actually love them a LOT. I just got them married in my BR save. Asugi is green, and got 0 inherited skills he wouldn’t have already had anyway 😌.

Their dynamic is very Good, imo. Every time they interact they seem like they have so much to say, but lack the words to say it. It’s obvious that they love each other a lot but can’t express it, and that creates what appears as a sense of longing, especially on Kaze’s part. He’s clearly so concerned about his brother, and very hurt that his Saizo won’t share his troubles with him—yet struggles to find the words to just ask. There’s SO much tension there and I love it. They’d both benefit from just letting loose and fucking once or twice, I think. As stress relief. I wish I had more thoughts and headcanons about them, because I’d absolutely share them!!

I offer this, if you haven’t read it. It’s really beautifully written, bittersweet, with unrequited feelings from Kaze. The sort of thing where if a tag only has 4 fics…. you don’t expect to find something of this quality.

Side note, I think it’s fun that they’re twins. It’s rare that twins in games look so different from each other.

~

As for Chrom and Owain, mmmmmmm. I haven’t seen any content of them, but I have heard it mentioned once or twice and it’s a VERY good concept. I don’t really like Chrom being incesty actually, for whatever reason, but the idea of Owain having a massive crush on his hot, completely oblivious uncle?? Absolutely yes. Who wouldn’t have a massive crush on Chrom!?!

Especially if in his original timeline, Chrom was just. His cool, fun uncle, who died when Owain was relatively young. But he comes back in time and now Chrom is barely a few years older than him and extremely hot, oh no.

Chrom, happily married, thinking his nephew is a bit odd but fun. While Owain in his tent hopelessly jerks off to one of those posters Frederick made…

[macrocest]

september 18th, 2024 - glory hole

suggested pairing: extended family

Cestember: a month long multifandom shipcest event with daily prompts and weekly suggested pairings hosted by @macrocest

Info & Calendar / AO3 / This time in collaboration with @microcest!

[tenth-sentence]

Capable of being avuncular, and equally able to be ruthless when he chose – he was dubbed 'the smiling piranha' – he had run Boral with an iron fist.

"Westpac: The Bank That Broke the Bank" - Edna Carew

[writers-weekly-words]

Avuncular

//adjective//

Definition:

1. relating to an uncle.

2. kind and friendly toward a younger or less experienced person.

3. relating to the relationship between men and their siblings' children.

[badwaves]

got shifty on da brain tonight (first comic inspired by this post)

[42dabydeen]

#doodle #noodleindoodle #IllustrationMonday #avuncular (at Hillcrest Village) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjiidfXrHz3JtrWDXLew_vnEN1F_MVtWl2UNlc0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thoodleoo]

my 6th grade boys have learned the world "avuncular" and have proceeded to describe every single thing from today's lesson as such

[supreme-leader-stoat]

I like atla character analysis as much as the next guy but I will say, I think a lot of Azula apologism (especially of the "Azula was only a villain because Iroh didn't try to save her the way he did Zuko" variety) conveniently glosses over that she tried to commit fratricide in literally her first episode (not counting cameos). Like that very much was a thing that happened. We can talk about Ozai and Ursa's parenting and Zuko-as-Iroh's-favorite and what if she had been redeemed all day long, but Azula was very much already dashing full-speed for the slippery slope with a sled in her hand by the time we meet her.

[irrigos]

man its weird how little characterization Scathewick gets in Nemesis

i mean, we've all been banging on this "Nemesis doesnt even give you a nemesis" drum for ages but like. hey whats that guys deal?

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[wheucto]

OBJECTOBER 5 - Arts & Crafts

paintbrush is like their auncle (or whatever). also they probably do art together

[overtsexting]

Camilla!Forrest marrying Elise tho

I started answering this a bit ago but I was half asleep and my response must have gotten deleted 😭

That’s fun tho!!!! They actually interact with each other unlike almost every other cross gen combo 😢 at the VERY least they are besties

I can imagine Leo being SO mad tho lol. At Forrest for laying a hand on his baby sister, and at Elise for laying a hand on his son.

[corallapis]

One of the other men laughed gently to himself. His dark hair was swept back, and he had a greying, well-manicured beard. The old man glared in his direction. Greybeard raised an eyebrow in response, still smirking, then winked at Nyssa, who couldn't help but smile back. The old man glared at her as well. The figure closest to the edge of the platform murmured an incantation and raised his arms, the others mirroring the movement. Nyssa followed suit, and for the first time realised that she, too, was wearing a robe. With a growing sense of unease, she also saw that her hands were smaller. Her nails less manicured. Her arms... shorter. “How interesting all this is.” Greybeard's voice sounded vaguely familiar, though Nyssa couldn't quite place it. The old man turned to admonish them once more as Greybeard spoke again. “Now, I wonder if — ah.” The old man froze, as did the other figures, and even the snowflakes — hanging in the air as if they'd been captured in a painting. Only Nyssa and Greybeard remained unfrozen. “It's quite simple once you understand the basic principles, isn't it?” “I'm not sure,” she replied. “Who are these people? And where are we?” “Well, from the look of it, I'd say we're on an observation deck at the edge of Arcadia, and these are some of the more, shall we say... free-thinking members of the Prydonian chapter. I always knew your grandfather was a bit of a rebel, but as for hanging around with this lot of hippies, I must say he's ever so slightly gone up in my estimation. Now then, if I can just get the hang of this time-shift —” Greybeard frowned in concentration. “I still don't understand what's going on here,” Nyssa said haughtily. “Who are you?” Greybeard looked directly into her eyes. “I am a friend of your grandfather,” he purred. His eyes were mesmerising. “And I'm sorry to say that he's gone missing. I'm rather keen to find out exactly where he's run off to.” “Why?” “Because we have... unfinished business.” Nyssa wasn't sure she trusted this man. “What sort of unfinished business?” Then, pointing to the old man frozen like the snow in front of them, she said, “And isn't that my grandfather?” “It was,” Greybeard nodded. “But all this was some time ago. Really, Susan, I expected more of you.” “My name's not Susan!” Nyssa said. “And I'm not even sure that's my grandfather.” “Then who are you?” Greybeard asked, apparently bemused. “And why are you — ? Oh. Oh, I see. Temporal balance cones interfering with the personality interfaces, are they? Fascinating. I wonder who you're seeing. No, you're definitely not Susan, are you? You're another player, aren't you? Yes, from later on in his time stream. Much later on, given the time it took for the interface to stabilise. Who are you, by the way? Another Prydonian? No, you don't look the type at all. I wonder if this delightful little device will give me a little insight into his future — or mine, even.”

— The Toy

[gaysolangelo]

i love when i’m reading a book and i keep having to consult dictionary dot com. like yessss expand my vocabulary <3

[age-of-moonknight]

“Danse Macabre,” Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #25.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Pencilers and Inkers: Alessandro Cappuccio, Alessandro Vitti, and Partha Pratim; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[frodo-with-glasses]

Estel, muddy

It had been a long, long time since the laughter of a child was last heard in Imladris.

How long had it been? Hundreds of years? Thousands? Elrond had quite lost track. Years seemed short to him—insignificant, fleeing, little longer than the space between the rising and setting of the sun—and yet, they seemed to work with alarming speed on the Lady Gilraen’s child, whom they called Estel.

He had now passed his third birthday, and was proving to be quite inquisitive and independent and full of energy, dashing about on his short legs, with a remarkable skill for locating the first thing in sight which he could damage or which could damage him. He was quite a hassle for Gilraen, and Elrond did all he could to assist her, though it continued to surprise him with what speed Estel could work his mischief.

It was the spring. Rains had come heavily upon the valley. Gilraen was taken ill with an intense aching in the head, and aside from a cool cloth on the forehead and a fragrant infusion for the pain, there was little more Elrond could do other than let her rest and allow it to pass.

Estel, by contrast, was quite healthy and ready to explore, and Elrond quickly found the majority of his afternoon occupied by following the child through the Homely House’s many winding corridors.

Estel had been fascinated with the rain. “Ou’side, ou’side!” he’d begged, watching it pattering on the windows of his mother’s room. Now he had made his way to one of the gardens in the interior of the house, and—oblivious to the raindrops that fell and flecked his little coat—was stomping gleefully in the puddles that formed on the stone pathways between the trees.

Elrond watched from the portico. The garden was enclosed, and there was nowhere Estel could run that he would not be seen, and little chance he would injure himself. Besides, he seemed quite pleased with this sudden freedom; and his laughter filled the little garden like sweet music, or the twittering of birds.

He was running on the path when his little foot slipped on a wet stone, and he fell with a high shout.

Elrond flew off the portico and was at his side within seconds. Thankfully, Estel had pitched sideways into a patch of earth about the roots of a young fruit tree, but the landing was not without effect; as it was early spring and had been raining heavily, the grass was not yet grown, and the earth had turned to brown puddles of slurry.

Estel’s clothes, hands, and chin were now much the same color.

He looked up, eyes wide, when Elrond appeared bending over him, as if to see how he should react to his little tumble. Elrond, for his part, could now feel the rain as it rolled off the leaves of the tree onto the back of his robe.

He didn’t much care.

“Come.” He bent down and offered his hand. “Stand up, Estel. You are not injured.”

Having heard this, Estel seemed to believe him, and two sets of muddy, pudgy little fingers grasped Elrond’s hand. “I-I-I fell down!” he exclaimed between excited gulps of air as Elrond helped him to his feet.

“Indeed you did fall. Perhaps it is unwise to run so quickly upon these paths.”

“Fall down!” cried Estel. He plucked a twig off the ground and began to smack the puddle into which he had fallen.

“Your tunic is soiled, Estel,” said Elrond. “This shall only make it more so.”

He did not acknowledge the wisdom of this observation, but continued to smack the puddle as flecks of mud sprayed onto his clothes and face. The giggles resumed.

Elrond sighed. Then, he smiled. There was no harm done here that a bath before supper would not rectify. So he made his way back to the shelter of the portico, and allowed Estel to continue his play.

It was an hour or two later that Elrond carried a muddy, yawning, but very happy lad in his arms into the Homely House.

WORD ASK GAME!