#can’t do any life skills despite trying so hard

[thenighttrain]

god i just want 1 win this year just 1 fucking win please 😔

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[seireitonin]

Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??

(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)

Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)

What would it be like dating Toby?

Toby’s life is filled with tragedy

Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman

It’s all bad

So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go

He’ll do anything for you

I mean to the point it’s unhealthy

Because hes obsessed with you

Like really obsessed with you

He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded

That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out

He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings

They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it

Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection

If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering

His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness

Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills

He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too

So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful

And he might try to call you sensitive for it too

“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”

He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions

It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing

He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general

Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip

He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions

He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)

He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile

Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay

He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail

He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute

Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better

Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him

He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that

He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor

He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s

If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them

Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering

Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile

He does it all for you. Everything is for you.

“You know I love you, right?”

He looks at you covered in blood

Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters

He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him

He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession

He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it

He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field

Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack

You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one

Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself

He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did

He’s never letting you go

He didn’t know he could feel love this intense

[adventuringblind]

Mentor Them

Lando Norris x Reader X Carlos Sainz

Genre: Smut

summary: Carlos teaches his teammate some good bedroom skills. feelings come to light in the process.

Warnings: Smut, PinV, porn with plot, oral (m and f receiving), denial, overtimulation, Dom Carlos, Sub reader and Lando, bandage

Notes: You know who you are. You did this to me. I will not be speaking on the subject.

Masterlist

Carlos has taken a liking to his younger teammate. He’s also taken an interest in said teammates relationship.

Lando, in the year and a half Carlos has known him, has kept the same girlfriend. But the thing that fascinates him is how oddly similar they are. The only difference is their energy. Lando is a bit more bouncy and chaotic, whereas she is soft-spoken and shy.

Carlos knows it’s weird. But he’s also not oblivious and incredibly intuitive. He notices the flustered laughs and blushes Lando gets when he’s around. He sees how the female looks at him until he catches her.

He knows both well. Wherever one is you can find the other not to far behind. It’s like they are each others safety blanket.

Is it bad he wants to absolutely ruin both of them? He tries not to think about it to much. They just look so soft together that he can’t help himself.

It’s after a race one afternoon that Carlos realizes he may have his fantasy fulfilled after all.

Lando came knocking on the door of his room in the McLaren motorhome. He was already blushing when Carlos let him inside. For the first time in a long time, there is no female in sight and Carlos thinks something bad may have happened.

“I need to ask you something and you’re not aloud to laugh at me.” The Brit says in an arguably strict tone.

“Anything. I won’t laugh.”

“I need help with, uh, bedroom stuff.” He looks down in shame ad Carlos is quick to stand up and lift Lando’s gaze to meet his.

“There is no shame is asking about that.”

Lando looks like he might go into shock but he manages a simple “Okay.”

~

Carlos goes over everything him and Lando had talked about on his way to their room. The two are trying to experiment but have no idea where to start.

Is he taking advantage of the situation? Probably. But for right now he’s just going to let himself enjoy it. Teach them a few things. Maybe even make a mess of them both in the process.

The one thing he’s mildly concerned about is the female. lando had made it clear that he doesn’t care what happens, but she has a tendency to not speak up if she doesn’t like things because she’s afraid of disappointing. It doesn’t help that she is shy and even struggles talking to Carlos despite having known him for awhile now.

Lando also mentioned her ability to not make any sounds during sex like her life depends on it. Her entire body could be spasming and she could still be silent. Another habit he’s hoping to break tonight.

He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

~

She has no idea what to expect. Lando and her had been thinking about this for some time now, inviting Carlos to join them. She just wasn’t sure what the whole ‘experimenting’ excuse is about. Her and Lando have done plenty of that!

Dynamics are a little funky a times because they’ve both had to learn to be switch’s. They fumbled for a bit, but she thought they’d done plenty of that and that their sexual health is fantastic.

Then he explained that he kind of fibbed because this counts as experimenting, technically speaking. He also said that Carlos didn’t hesitate to say yes and got excited at the proposal. It makes her wonder if Carlos has also thought about them in this way.

Lando sits next to her on the bed. His arms wrapped around her and his head in the crook of her neck. “remember Carlos doesn’t know how to read you like I do. You’ll have to communicate verbally with him.” She just hums. She doesn’t know why she does it, her voice just leaves during sex and it’s so hard for her to speak. “For me, please?”

“I will, for you.”

They don’t get to continue their conversation as they hear a knock at the door. Lando bounds to go and greet their guest and she curls herself into the corner of the bed. Just her and her breaths for a minute.

The curious sound of something hitting the wall fills her ears. Then follows the wet sound of sloppy kisses and a few moans. Finally they come into view and she can see Carlos smothering Lando in a full mouth kiss. She even thinks she can see the swipe of their tongues every now and then.

When Carlos pulls away, he looks between them with hunger. “Why do I feel like you two actually know exactly what you’re doing?”

“Cause I sorta kinda fibbed.”

“I can tell by the way you let me shove my tongue down your throat with ease.”

Lando blushes at the statement. ‘Oops.”

Carlos sits on the end of the bed and swings himself around to face the female. He motions for Lando to join and a small smirk tugs at his lips when he obeys.

“Complete transparency: I have thought about this for awhile now.”

She exchanges a look with the Brit. Turns out he has been thinking about them as well. “So have we.”

“So the experimenting?”

“Technically this is experimenting.”

Carlos just shakes his head. “You could’ve just asked and I would’ve said yes.”

The girl uncurls from herself just a bit. “It’s hard to do when you have a crush on the person you’re asking.” The smile on Carlos’ face is unreal. He looks ecstatic and it makes her feel fuzzy on the inside. “We were going to ask if you wanted to try things with us. Like, in a romantic sense.”

Her and Lando look at him expectantly. The Spaniards smile seems to grow even more. “Yeah, I think I would like to try that. But I have one condition.”

“And what would that be?” Lando’s tone is a bit snarky but she knows what he’s doing. He has a tendency to rile people up quickly. Namely her. In a sexual way.

“I want to take you both apart tonight.”

The stunned silence that falls between them is ridiculous. the fact that she’s not sure what he means by that and the idea of watching that happened seems very appealing. She does not register, however, that Carlos said both of them. She’d already settled for mostly watching the two of them go at it. Not to much involvement on her end.

There are no words exchanged. Just Lando staring at the Spaniard as if waiting for his doom. Not a bad way to go out really.

And just as suspected, when there is even an inkling of confirmation, Carlos is once again choking his tongue down Lando’s throat. The two of them clamber back onto the bed with nothing but clumsy chaos.

The female curls into herself further. She watches in awe. The same feeling of losing her voice during intimate moments comes crashing over her, and she has no clue what she should do.

If she's honest with herself, she would be perfectly content just watching. She lets her mind wander to the future and what their life might look like together. If people found out what they might say.

She doesn't realize she's been spacing out until Lando is calling her name. She must have been gone a while because he and Carlos are both missing their shirts.

She feels clueless.

Carlos, in all of his beauty, gently grabs under her knees and slides her almost fully underneath him.

The hungry stare makes her squeak. It's nothing like she's ever seen before. Lando is usually needy and whiny, but this is nothing but pure untamed lust.

He hovers over her. Hands moving to pin her wrists to the mattress beneath her. He studies her. His eyes move down her body as if calculating how to best attack.

She's panting heavily. A pause. A calm before the storm.

Then something in him snaps.

His belt is off in seconds. Carlos finds Lando's wrists and uses his belt as some sort of makeshift rope. One that he won't be getting out of on his own. Lando won't be doing much touching if his hands are stuck behind him, and she wonders what Carlos is planning.

Carlos is half straddling her now. The other hand of him towering Lando. His hands gripping messy curls. "You said you can't get her to make noise? If that's the case, I feel that you haven't been doing it right." He grabs Lando's chin and directs his haze at her. "You've had such a beautiful girl, compliant even, and you haven't made her cum so hard she's praying your name?"

Carlos clicks his tongue. He strips Lando of the rest of his clothes. Completely bare. Unless you count the belt, keeping his hands from really doing anything.

"We're using colors for safe words. Are you both familiar?" She shakes her head yes in confirmation, and Lando gives a verbal answer. "I need words, princesa."

How is she ever going to get through tonight if he calls her things like that? She breathes and attempts to make her paralyzed vocal chords work. "Yeah..." it's barely even a whisper, but Carlos looks so pleased with himself.

The Spaniard maneuvers Lando back onto the bed on his knees. He grabs his jaw again and looks so stern that she thinks he might actually be upset. "You are not going to finish until you pull a noise out of her. Do you understand?"

A slurred "Yes sir" stumbles out of the Brits mouth. Then Carlos is back over her body. He tugs at the bottom of her shirt. The outer layers are shed so easily. She's not self-consciousness, even quite confident with how Lando compliments her every opportunity he gets. Yet Carlos' hungry eyes make her want to shield herself.

It's overwhelming, a good overwhelming, but still overwhelming.

"Don't hide away from me now. If you do that, I can't teach Lando how to pleasure such a good girl."

Is it possible for a human to melt? Because she is most definitely melting. Putty to be molded as the Spaniard pleases.

He works off her bra with skilled fingers. She goes again to try and close up but Carlos is quick to catch her and pin her hands.

He kisses her neck, her lips, her shoulders, the center of her chest. It's such a contrast to the roughness she saw with Lando. He's being slow and taking his time with her. Lando looks like he is enjoying being punished to an extent (he's always been a bit of a brat for her).

She sucks in a breath when Carlos' tongue and teeth find her nipples. He goes back and forth between both of them. Her breathing is heavier than it was before. More labored from the stimulation.

Still no noise.

He captures her lips again and then trails his lips all the way to the last piece of clothing she has on. Her body shivers in anticapation. He tugs at the elastic and makes eye contact with her. "Can I take these off?"

The nodding her head in response isn't going to work, and she knows that. She steels herself and forces her voice to work even if it's small. "Please." A blink, and you'll miss it type of whisper, but he hears her.

He drags them off. Hands running across her body in an almost desperate motion. He pries her legs apart easily. You'd think she was weightless. Another confidence booster since she's got a 'not a supermodel' kind of body. In her opinion, at least.

Carlos goes back to kissing her. Now, adding small bites as he goes. He's teasing the area around where she would like him to be. Again, not complaining, simply enjoying what he's giving.

He pulls away, and she huffs. He looks satisfied with it. "Maybe if you begged for it, I would keep going." He smirks. Her eyes widen in the realization that he wants to get her as vocal as possible. Not just for Lando, but for himself also.

Carlos manhandles Lando in between her legs. She can feel his warm breath clinging to her body in all the right places.

"Do you want me to just sit here or...?"

A flash of movement and a small amount of force appear out of thin air. Lando's tongue is everywhere she jeeds it to be. Carlos passes her a curious look. "Is he always like this." She shakes her head yes. If only he knew the half of it.

"Remember amour." He whispers into Lando's ear. "You pull a noise out of her, and you can finish." Then he looks at her. Gentle eyes but stern voice. "And you can finish if you want, but do not make a sound if it isn't real. Let him be desperate and learn from this."

And oh how desperate he would become.

Carlos doesn't make it any easier on him. She knew it was going to be torcher for the Brit when Carlos asked if there was lube in close proximity, and the answer was yes.

Hands are everywhere. Touching, feeling, grabbing, spreading. Her nerves are on fire from all the stimulation. Lando whining into her core and Carlos continually shoving the Brit further into her is making her feel all sorts of ways.

Her body spasms without warning. The deep sated pleasure hit her in a wave.

Silence. A little labored breathing. But still no noises pulled from her.

Carlos halts all movment. Lando cries from having no physical contact. Limbs flail like a child whose mother said no to ice cream.

"I guess we'll have to try something different, huh Landito." How Carlos can move people around so effortlessly is beyond her. The positions are reversed now. Though she is sitting more comfortably since she has her hands.

Carlos takes the courtesy of letting his hands free. The Brit immediately runs his hands all over both of them.

Carlos pulls her body into his back. Fingers caress her sides, then grabs her hair. He pulls hard enough so that she can look at him, albeit upside down in a way.

He places a chaste kiss to her nose, causing her to smile a bit. "I want to hear the words. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me you want to be a good girl for me."

It comes so naturally this time. Like begging for him is her first language. It's the only thing she knows. It falls from her lips in the form of a prayer, and Carlos looks satisfied with her for it.

Something happens when he slams into her without warning. Her hands grip onto Lando's thighs, and her mouth falls open.

Something between a shreik and a moan leaves her, and it's shocking. Carlos doesn't stop, but he's reveling in it. "See princesa, you sound so fucking beautiful. Moan for me more. Whine for me with Lando in your throat."

And so she did. Like she found her voice despite it never really being gone. Carlos had unlocked something in her mind that let her get past the mental block.

Lando looks like he might cum just to the sound of her. It's his favorite song on repeat, and every noise makes his eyes roll back further.

Praise. Both are praising her. It only makes her do it more. Her mind is so far gone that it's possible she'll never recover. Lando has gotten her here before, but never this far.

They are both gone. Deep into the glassy eyes and fuzzy headspaces that she doesn't care what happens next.

She's choking off Lando's length, but she can't be bothered to care. His hands fist her hair as he slams his hips into her face. His breathing is labored and mouth open. His words are swimming in her ears as are Carlos'.

She fell over a while ago. She's been over the edge for an insane amount of time. Lando spilling down into her throat only pulls her deeper into it.

Carlos is getting sloppy with his relentless thrusts. She feels him stutter and pulse onside of her. His angle hitting her where she wants it.

That small voice in the back of her head is glad Carlos was responsible and put on protection. He doesn't pull out until he's done.

They are all sweaty, but it doesn't matter. She finds herself in Lando's lap. He's buried in her. His hands are tracing the sensitive lines he knows so well. She reciprocated the gentle affection.

Carlos has complete control of the situation. He lays wet kisses to every area of skin he can get to. He praises and degrades in all the correct ways. Guides them through every action. Lando pulling ever sound he'd been longing to hear for over a year from the depths of her soul.

It's bliss. They'd been at it so long that she couldn't control her own body anymore. Gone are coherent thoughts.

Carlos stops them. Gently slowing both down with his hands as guides. "You're both such beautiful creatures."

They fall into a heap. Her and Lando can barely move and settle for holding hands and staring. Sleep because the best idea she has ever had. Her eyes droop.

"No sleep yet. Don't want you getting sick or subdropping on me." Carlos chuckles as he presses cold rags to their skin. "I would have you bathe, but I don't think that would I can manage you both in there."

"Thank you, Carlos, really." Mumbles Lando.

"I should be thanking you two. I've wanted this for so long. It's hard to believe it took us this long." Carlos runs a hand through his hair. "Tommorow I'm taking you two out for a real date."

"I think I speak for both of us when I say that we would love that."

"I seconds that." She mumbles before throwing herself over the boys in a head of bodies and comfort.

[fizzyorange-v2]

just talking to my friend in dms about how at first when q!charlie started calming down from his rampage i was kinda upset cause i WANTED a full villain arc i wanted blood and rage and a massacre but then I kept watching and realised how much of a fucking idiot I was to underestimate charlie slimecicle’s rp skills like that. because charlie isn’t just playing a character hell bent on righteous revenge for his daughter, he’s playing a character actually grieving that daughter.

it’s obvious now that i think about it that the initial revenge plot to kill all the eggs and his repeated self affirmations that juanaflippa isn’t gone and that it can all just be reset are clearly just him entering the denial and anger stages. and that later scenes after the rest of the server finally backed him into a corner and calmed him down and he had that heart wrenching scene looking at juanaflippa’s photo, asking for a literal trial for her life and soul back and then that whooooole bar scene, that he has then entered the bargaining and depression stages.

Because the truth is, q!charlie doesn’t actually want to kill anyone (except Mariana lolll), he especially doesn’t want to kill any of the eggs! All he wanted was to be a good dad. And I think that that’s part of the reason he as a character failed so hard to actually tangibly hurt anyone during this stream. He was a mess, crying screaming yelling clawing trying to do something, anything to save his daughter. Anything to fix it all. That scene of him failing to break into Phil’s house haunts me.

But I think there’s something especially tragic that before Juanaflippa, q!charlie probably was the kind of character to hurt others without caring, he seemed to have no idea about empathy or healthy relationships before her thats for sure. He’s literally already killed TWO eggs before this, so causally and with such ease. But his love for his daughter improved him, and it changed him, and it made him just enough of a better person that when that daughter was taken from him, suddenly even to save her he can’t fucking do it anymore.

I also really appreciate how everyone else on the server reacted to him too. They didn’t at all treat him like some big bad scary villain like I originally would I’ve expected. Sure they were understandably wary and protective, but every single one of them weren’t so much angry at him as… WORRIED for him. And it really helped put it in perspective that this isn’t some guy going on a hashtag villain arc, but immersed me in oh fuck. This is a guy that just lost his daughter. And all his friends and fellow parents know. And they aren’t scared of him, they’re concerned for him. They aren’t full of fear… but pity. Because they know. They know what he’s just lost. And they understand. And they’re trying to be there for him.

And Charlie despite all the grand speeches and diabolical plots and not so carefully placed land mines… doesn’t really care how he gets Juanaflippa back, as long as she’s with him again.

Just man,,,, the way Charlie performed this character’s grief is so fucking stellar and SO fucking excruciating. The part that genuinely broke me was in that photo scene when he said: “i'm sorry flippa... i thought i could change something- i thought i could undo it, thought i could make it right... now i see that there's no way this can be made right...” which already fucking ow ow OW and clearly him finally exiting denial/anger straight into depression but then he whispers THIS FUCKING BIT: “it wasnt even on purpose… i know that... it doesnt make it better… what do i do juanaflippa?” LIKE FUCK!!!! FUCK!!!! OKAY!!!!!

Anyway massive props to everyone for the rp today but ESPECIALLY charlie for this agonisingly accurate and visceral depiction of grief that I somehow was NOT expecting. I thought we were going to get villain arc egg massacre angst and instead we got father mourning his daughter trying futilely to do anything to bring her back angst. I’m never fucking recovering from this one.

[memescomicswriting]

Okay, but here me out … modern!Aegon x reader Casual coded

I know that our Queen Miss Roan did not write this song about a man and the fandom has dubbed it one of the Rhaneyra x Alicent songs. However, as a bi I can attest that this song can apply no matter the team you bat for. It especially applies when the situationship is with someone who’s emotional attachment skills fluctuate whenever the wind blows. So Aegon.

Modern!Aegon, maybe you met in college through overlapping friend groups. He likes to party, your friends like to party. This continues past graduation.

My friends call me a loser/ 'Cause I'm still hanging around

Whether you’re still in uni or not, your friends think it’s time for you to mature and move forward from this cycle you have with Aegon. He’s not good for your health.

I've heard so many rumors/ That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

Your friends fill you in on what’s being said about you as a part of their reasoning.

“See how he talks about you. And you stay?”

I thought you thought of me better/ Someone you couldn't lose/ You said, "We're not together"/ So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

You confront him about what he’s been saying to his mates, but that silver tongue of his can smooth anything over. When you’re alone, he’s so sweet and you’re putty in his hands.

You said, "Baby, no attachment"/ But we're/ Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out

Aegon’s got big Peter Pan energy. He bolts at any form of responsibility and that includes the responsibility of maintaining a relationship. He doesn’t want to grow up, his partying years to end, and to take on the role his parents have carved out for him. He’s afraid that if he commits to you it’s a sign he’s ready to commit to his future.

Is it causal now

He likes you. He wants you. Maybe as close to love as he can get. But he’s Aegon, so he keeps you at arm’s length despite demanding the intimacy.

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

However, you’ve been around long enough that his parents do know you. They’ve seen your face enough. When he has an event that needs a date he always brings you.

I know what you tell your friends/ It's casual

It’s what he tells them when they’re high at 3am and the question comes up again. He can’t bring himself to say it’s anything more.

Then, baby, get me off again/ If it's casual, it's casual now

You always fall back into his bed. He’s addicting. You love the rush and thrill being with him gives you. You crave it despite the burn you receive every time you crash out.

Dumb love, I love being stupid/ Dream of us in a year/ Maybe we'd have an apartment/ And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier

Despite your better judgment, you still go to that delulu headspace. It’s the post orgasm high and he’s being so sweet and gentle. Maybe he’s finally changing.

I know, "Baby, no attachment"

And then his words are bringing you crashing down into the reality of it all.

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out/ Is it casual now?

And yet he gives you these intimate moments. They almost feel sacrosanct. And you’re thrown in the whirlwind of emotions again only to be smacked down.

It's hard being casual/ When my favorite bra lives in your dresser

You’re with him so goddamn often that his neighbors think you share the apartment.

And it's hard being casual/ When I'm on the phone talking down your sister

You’ve been at this for so long. You know him. You know Helena. She treats you as if you’re some pillar, some constant, someone who’s always been in the family.

And I try to be the chill girl/ That holds her tongue and gives you space/ I try to be the chill girl

You try so fucking hard to please him. You’re trying so goddamn hard to suppress all your desires that will scare him off. It’s like he’s given you a 4x4 dimension of space to take up in his life, but you’re a 5x5. You’re tipping over and bleeding out.

But honestly, I'm not

For some unknown reason on some random day, the scale finally tips to far. Like a spring that’s been coiled and tightened as far as it can go, you bounce back with force.

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner/ Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Maybe that was the moment. You’re thinking he’s finally taking this seriously if you’re having a one on one dinner with his family for no special occasion. His parents compliment his growth. You’re more than willing to comply when he drags you off to the bathroom. You think you’re both caught up in the evening. When return is when you realize it was all to antagonize his parents. You go home alone.

Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it/ I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry, dude, you didn't

You confront him the next time you see him. For the first time you actually catch him talking with his friends about you. He’s gotten bold to do it with you around. You nearly blackout while burning with rage. You’re spewing every hurtful thing you’ve ever thought while he’s dragging you into a private space.

“What the hell was that?”

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself/ Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The invisible string that’s connected the two of you, he’s stretched so far that it’s finally snapped. You’re furious but you’re finally free. And you leave him. Not like any other time before, where you were meek and teary eyed. There’s no “I love you, but…” No, you’re red faced, voice hoarse, no decorum letting him have it. Everything.

You leave him a stuttering mess. Nothing left to say. Nothing to go back to. You’re broken but you’re free.

And his pain is just beginning.

[lingeringdesires505]

maybe its for the best

rin itoshi x reader

angst

rin can’t stop blaming himself, he knows hes at fault, that hes the reason the two of you had broken up. rin’s life mainly revolved around soccer, until he met you. all his life, his only goal was to beat his brother, itoshi sae, and show him how he too could be good at soccer. little did he know, he would be so caught up in his obsession with competing against his brother would ruin a relationship he had cherished so much.

28 April, 10.58 p.m.

The night you two broke up, it was after one of his late night trainings. despite being tired and burnt out, he still stayed back after training, pushing himself to his limit, in hopes that his skill would be up to par with his brother’s.

you laid in your shared bed with him, wondering when he would come home. his soccer training should have ended at 9 p.m., yet he was still not home. seeing the clock almost striking 11, you became more and more worried about your lover. you had sent him multiple texts, but none were read.

“he must be staying back after training again,” you thought to yourself. despite the constant reminders not to overexert himself, and that he should rest more, rin never listened to you. he would either brush you off, saying it was no big deal and that he wasnt tired, or just ignore you. you understood that he was feeling lots of stress especially with the upcoming soccer match, but you just couldnt stand there and see him destroy himself like this. it certainly wasnt healthy and beneficial for his physical or mental health.

as you reached the stadium, you saw a familiar figure doing his routines.

“rin! ive been worried about you. its already 11 p.m., you should come home and rest!” you called out to him as you ran towards him.

“ just a few more minutes…im almost done. after im done, we can go home, okay? “ he said without looking back to you.

as much as you wanted to let him finish, you could already tell he was extremely tired. the sweat running down his forehead and muscles, the heavy panting that you knew all to well — he was already pushing his limits, if you were to let him continue, he might over exhaust himself, doing more harm than good to his body.

“ rinnie, please, youre at your limit already, please just stop! youre going to hurt yourself at this rate! “ you begged him to stop, but he wouldnt listen. tears started to well up in your eyes as you grew more and more anxious, why wouldnt he just stop hurting himself like this and listen to you?

it wasnt long before rin snapped.

“do you really think im that weak?! besides, what i do to my own body is none of your business! youre just another obstacle in the way of my success, just leave me alone you lukewarm piece of shit, god damn it!” he shouted, his eyes filled with anger as he finally looked over to you.

that was when he realised he fucked up.

his heart ached as he saw hot tears streaming down your red cheeks. no, wait, he didnt mean it!

“please baby, wait, i didnt mean it. im so sorry i said that, please..” he immediately stopped what he was doing to run towards you, forcefully hugging you, frantically apologising.

you didnt say anything. you couldnt say anything. you were in disbelief — the man that you had loved with all your heart, the man that you cared for so deeply, wanted you to leave him alone? was this truly the way he felt about you? just an obstacle? a lukewarm piece of shit?

“baby please, i didnt mean any of that… its all my fault, i know you want the best for me. forgive me please… please, say something!” this time, rin was the one of the verge of tears.

“so that’s how you feel about me?… you want me to leave you alone?…” you managed to stutter out, trying hard not to start bawling on the spot. how could he say something so hurtful?

“fine. if that’s how you want it, dont contact me ever again rin, it’s over between us.”

you ran back to your car before rin could react and slammed the door shut, driving off to your shared apartment to pack your things and move out. you weren’t just angry, you were upset.

you couldnt believe this was how your relationship with rin was going to end. you always thought of rin as someone you would continue to love and care for, someone you would grow old with.

that night, rin laid on the grass in the stadium, looking up at the night sky, head filled with regrets, heart aching.

present

was it really worth it? rin always asked himself. sure, he managed to show to his brother that his soccer skills were excellent, but that didnt make him happy. in fact, after the two of you had broken up, nothing made him happy. how could he be happy without you? he was struggling to even live a day without you.

rin would spend countless sleepless nights scrolling through his photo gallery, looking at photos you had forced him to take with you. the poor man couldnt even sleep without your scent. he would often try and find old articles of clothing you had left behind around the house — it was the only way he could sleep, with your scent.

he would spend many hours training, even if there wasnt any upcoming matches. he was desperate to find any sort of distraction to distract himself from thinking about you.

some nights after training, he prayed that you would still be there outside the stadium, waiting to drive him home. he prayed that he could see you again, hear your sweet voice and hearty laugh again. he was so desperate to hear your voice again, he didnt care if he had to hear your nagging or your complaints, he just needed to hear you again, to see that pretty face of yours.

rin always thought about how foolish he was. before he met you, he felt that unfortunate things always happened to him. he always thought about how terrible and unlucky his life was. that was until he met you. you were like a blessing from heaven, an angel that came and brightened up his dull, lukewarm life. he wished he had known how to appreciate you earlier. if only he had opened his eyes and see how much you had loved and cared for him.

it feels like torture scrolling through your instagram page, seeing you move in with your new boyfriend, seeing you have dinner dates with him. he knows your new boyfriend treats you way better than he ever did, and he feels happy that your being taken good care of, but deep down, his heart was being ripped into shreds. it felt so wrong, but he couldnt stand the thought of you laughing, or smiling for another man. you were already moving on with life, getting ready to marry your boyfriend, and there was nothing he could do about it.

rin accepted that he could never be at peace with himself, especially since he had fucked up the only good thing in his life. it was too late for regrets, the only thing he could do now was make sure that you were safe and happy from afar.

———————————————————————————

thank you for reading!

word count: 1.2k

feel free to request!

please dont steal

@lingeringdesires505 2024

[late-to-the-party-81]

Love, Lies & Electricity

AN: Hi all - here is my entry for week 5 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer. This time it’s a Bucky x Reader fic. Thanks to all who voted in my poll a few weeks ago to decide who this reader should be.

Additional thanks and kisses to @drabbles-mc for beta-ing this.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, click here.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, Reblogs are golden.

Master List | HBS Master List

Challenges and Bingos: HBS week 5 - We’re Exes

Summary: After Bucky Barnes broke your heart several months ago you never wanted to see him again. However, when he turns up and asks you to help him, Sam and Torres bring down a HYDRA base you can’t refuse as it will mean a chance to get payback on those who hurt you worse than he did.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

CW: Angst, Revenge, Sexual Content

There was a reason why you’d taken solace on the rooftop of an abandoned building in DUMBO - you wanted to be alone. You’d hoped that the omnipresent drizzle would have deterred most of those who might wish to contact you, even if they did manage to work out where you were. Despite this, you weren’t surprised in the least when Bucky appeared. 

Even with your back to him and your gaze unwaveringly fixated on the view before you, you knew he was there. He had an energy about him - probably something to do with the circuitry to his arm - that you’d found easy to pick up on when you’d first met him, let alone after you’d become attuned to it. 

“I told you not to bother me ever again, Barnes,” you stated in a flat tone, still avoiding looking at him.

There was a moment of silence, probably so he could consider his response, although you’d be surprised if he wasn’t expecting this type of reception.

“I know,” he acknowledged, “but I - we - need you.”

Your lips twitched wryly. You should have known he wouldn’t be here of his own accord. You hadn’t had any contact from him since that day three months ago when you’d screamed and shouted and… he’d just stood there. Accepting your vitriol before turning and walking out of your life. The wound still felt raw. 

When you’d first met him, you’d fallen hard and fast. Bucky just seemed to get you - understand you like no-one else, and you thought that you’d known him too. The nights you’d spent together, just holding each other and talking about what you’d gone through in your lives - finding comfort and companionship that transcended the physical connection that you had. However, like every other good thing in your life, it had come crashing down around your ears, but unlike other times, you hadn’t seen it - the hurt and the betrayal - coming.

Bucky hadn’t gotten involved with you because of who you were - he’d approached you because of what you could do - what you could bring to a new team of Avengers. Someone else who saw your value in connection to your freakish abilities. He breached your walls, then shattered them from the inside. You were still rebuilding them.

“What’s the job?” you queried, knowing that if you dismissed him out of hand he’d probably just push harder and you’d end up screaming at him.

“There’s a pocket of Hydra holdouts in a bunker in Massachusetts,” he rumbled and you closed your eyes, trying to control your physical reaction to his presence. “We can’t find a way in, and need the element of surprise. You’ve got the skills we need.”

You snorted. Of course it was all about your powers.

“Who’s asking? The White Wolf or Bucky Barnes?” You couldn’t keep the sneer from your voice.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t rise to it, instead asking, “Would it make a difference?”

A loud sigh left your throat. “I suppose you’re right. You knew I was in from the word ‘HYDRA’.”

You pushed yourself up from the roof ledge and finally turned to face him. The rain had plastered his dark brown hair to his face, making it look black. Droplets of water ran down the divot in his chin, before dripping off the end. Why did he have to be so beautiful? If you were that sodden you’d just look like a drowned rat, so you gave a quick thanks to the small electrical field you’d generated around you that stopped the rain from making contact.

“Let’s get this over with then.” Your voice - and heart - was already weary. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to never seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t answer, instead just giving you a look you couldn’t interpret before turning and walking towards the stairwell. You followed in his wake.

The journey upstate to the compound hadn’t been too arduous. Both you and Bucky had ridden your bikes, which had the dual advantage of making it easy to slip through the traffic and also negated the need for small talk. You hadn’t actually said a word to him since leaving the rooftop and you were totally fine with that.

You’d greeted Sam with a clipped ‘Hello’ and just stared through Torres when he’d shyly raised a hand in your direction. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them, you just didn’t know them.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Bucky had let out a small cough and suggested that you all go through to the briefing room and you’d nodded your assent. Now the four of you were gathered around the holographic blueprints.

“Our main issues,” said Sam, “are these gun turrets.” He pointed out the towers at each corner of the building. “Our intel says they are energy-based, which means if they can get disabled from inside the three of us should be able to get in easier.”

“That’s what we’re hoping you can do,” added Torres, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. It almost made you smile. Almost.

Sam continued. “Once we’re in, we aren’t expecting you to hang around. We know you aren’t a big fan of working with us.”

That was an understatement if ever you’d heard one, but there were bigger motivational factors involved. “You really think I’m gonna turn tail and not take the opportunity to get some payback?” you asked with a raised brow. “You don’t know me at all, Sam.”

A look of sympathy immediately took over his face. “I understand why you feel this way, but this isn’t what this mission is about. We need to shut them down and extract all the data.”

You frowned. You don’t know why you expected a different response from the new Captain America. “But you know that if we don’t stop them - neutralise every single one of them - then they’ll just regroup. Reform. We’ll - You’ll - be no better off than you were before and you’ll just have to hunt them down again another day.” The words came out sharply as your frustration grew.

“We’re not going there with the express intent of murdering people.” Sam bit back. “I’m a realist - I understand that there will be deaths - but I’m not going out of my way to create the highest body count possible.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “You’re a bleeding heart, Wilson. No mercy should be shown to HYDRA because they sure as hell won’t show you any.”

You turned on your heel and stalked from the room, walking along the corridor until you reached one of the glass walls that allowed you to look out over the forest surrounding the semi-secret base. You weren’t even there a minute before you felt a prickle up your spine. Your hands, that had been resting on your ribs where your arms were crossed, curled into fists.

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you ground out between gritted teeth. He moved to stand beside you, leaning on the railing, and you could see him out of your peripheral vision.

“He’s a good man, you know. It’s why Steve gave him the shield and not me. He knew that for the mantle of Captain America you have to have some level of optimism.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “But it just seems so pointless.”

“You know I get it. We have a different outlook, you and I. As much as Sam can empathise with what we went through, try his best to understand, he will never get it. Much the same way that I can’t ever fully understand what it was like for him, being who he is, to grow up in this America. We just have to stick to our truths, and bend once in a while when it’s prudent to do so.” He turned towards you then, flashing a wry grin and you couldn’t help but turn your head as well. “And besides, what Wilson doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Bucky pushed away from the railing and started to walk back towards the conference room. Part way along he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “You coming? We’ve got some HYDRA ass to kick. And by kick, I mean shoot in the head.”

Large hands spanned your waist, gripping firmly but not cruelly. Your legs were hooked over the arms connected to them, holding you wide open. Your eyes, only open a crack, could see the way his dark hair flopped down in front of his face, could see the way his body glistened with sweat as he pumped in and out of you. His muscles strained and his jaw was set.

“Fuck, honey,” Bucky exclaimed. “Feels so fucking good.” Your only reply was a whine as you dropped a hand down between you to strum at your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good. Wanna feel you come.” If you’d been capable of giggling at his statement you would have, because you’d come twice already - once on his face and once on his fingers. The man was insatiable for your pleasure. You weren’t gonna complain about it.

“Bucky!” you breathed out, not sure what you were actually trying to say, but hoping he could pick up on the tone. The air crackled, its molecules excited by your semi-conscious manipulation of the electric field around you. You could feel yourself rushing towards that peak, your core clenching - pulsing - around where Bucky was filling you with each delicious thrust.

He dropped his head, taking one of your pebbled nipples in his mouth and sucked on it. The sensation pulled tightly on the invisible thread that ran through your body to where the pair of you were joined. Tighter. Firmer. Higher…

You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright as you gulped in lungful after lungful of air. Your hands shook and your skin was sweaty and you silently cursed Bucky Barnes as you flopped back down and pressed one of the pillows over your face. You hadn’t had a sex dream about him in weeks, but it stood to reason that as he was back disrupting your waking hours he’d do the same to your sleep as well.

Frustration welled up inside of you, and with a grunt you threw the pillow across the room, hearing it thud against the generic dresser. You were in one of the ‘guest’ rooms at the compound. White walls. White furniture. Grey bedding, curtains and carpet. It was fucking depressing. You were just glad that you weren’t going to be here for long. Just a few more days of going through the reconnaissance intel and running some training drills in the state of the art suite downstairs and then you’d be on the mission for real. Then, when it was over, you were going to leave - leave New York. Leave the state. Heck, you might even leave the country. 

You flipped over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to go back to sleep in, but every time you closed your eyes your mind conjured the image of Bucky looking at you as if you were the only thing in his world that had meaning. Sleep was a long time coming.

Three mornings later and you were up early, just finishing getting dressed where there was a knock on your bedroom door. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know who it was. Lightly slapping your hands against your legs, you strode over and opened the door. Bucky stood there, his fingers all twisted around each other until he seemed to jump at the realisation of what he was doing and put them both behind his back. A smile played at the corners of your mouth. The highlight of the last few days had been the discovery that Bucky was as discombobulated by your presence as you were by his. The only difference was that you seemed to be able to hide it better. That knowledge had allowed you to sleep better the last few nights - the schadenfreude was delicious. And if you’d then played up to it - accidentally rubbed past him in small spaces, or laugh and flirt with a sweetly awkward Joaquin? Well it was exactly what Bucky deserved in your opinion.

You looked up at him with a raised brow and leant against the door, arms folded across your breasts, and you noted the minute flicker of his gaze down and then back up. “Can I help you, Buck?” 

He scowled as you over-pronounced the start and end of his nickname. “I came to see if you were ready. We need to leave in twenty.”

“It’s not my first rodeo, Sargent, a fact you well know. As you can see,” you gestured down the length of your body with your hand, “I managed to get dressed all on my own. I can manage to achieve a surprising amount of things without your help.”

You pushed away from the door and snagged your go back from the floor. It didn’t have a lot in it because unlike the others you only relied on your abilities for both offence and defence. No guns, knives, vibranium arms, shields or wings.

Bucky didn’t move away as you exited your room, causing you to brush against him to get by. As you did so, pointedly not looking at him, his right hand shot out and snagged your upper arm. “Honey, please can we t-”

You shook your arm free angrily. “You don’t get to call me that,” you hissed. “You lost that right months ago. And no, we’re not gonna talk. I said it before, and I’ll say it again. After this mission we never see each other again.” With that, you turned your back on him and stalked in the direction of the hanger. He didn’t try to stop you and you wondered why you felt a lump in the pit of your stomach about it.

Chapter 2

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318

[lovemyavatar]

Irreplaceable

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

based on this request

Warnings: angst, mild descriptions of injuries, fluff

Your eyes flutter open, squinting against the harsh morning light as it flickers into the tent.

Out of habit, you turn over, arms outstretched, reaching for the warmth of your mate. When they come up empty, your brow pinches in confusion, bleary eyes scanning his unoccupied side of the bed.

You’re alone…again.

A rough sigh falls from your lips. Disappointment weighs heavily in your heart, chest tightening with the twinge of loneliness you’ve gotten used to over the last several weeks. Your legs swing off the side of the woven bed frame, a new determination powering your steps as you get ready for the day.

Your gaze flicks over the bustling center of Home Tree as you emerge from your tent, searching the crowd. You don’t stop looking, not until he’s found on one of the upper levels of the massive structure. His attention is firmly locked on the task at hand, as he circles a group of young warriors.

They’re practicing archery skills, the long line of men and women pulling their bow strings back, then releasing them rhythmically as Neteyam’s laser focus dissects every movement.

“Yawne (beloved)!” You call lightly, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

Despite the less than ideal state of your relationship, you’ll always be happy to see him. You can’t help the way your heart skips a beat at the simple mention of his name, the way your stomach flutters as you watch him help teach the clan.

His eyes cut to you for only a brief moment, hands falling to his hips in irritation as he corrects one of the warrior’s postures. You walk right up to him, fingertips brushing along his arm when he doesn’t stop to look at you.

“Ma ‘Teyam—”

“Not now, Y/N.” He says curtly, before walking away without so much as a glance.

You force down a thick swallow, embarrassment darkening your cheeks. You feel the glances, the judgement of the warriors as they watch him practically ignore you. Your stomach dips at his dismissal, but you press on, plastering another smile on your face as you follow his quick strides.

“I was just checking on you, Ma ‘Teyam. You did not say goodbye again.” Your voice quivers a bit with the effort of keeping it lighthearted despite the way his treatment splinters your heart.

“I am very busy.” His arms cross over his broad chest, tongue clicking disapprovingly at one of the warriors as they fumble their arrow.

He walks away from you again, correcting their stance with firm hands. All you can do is stare at his retreating back, heartache settling like heavy stones. Your gaze falls, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

You’re quick to make your exit, as it’s clear he doesn’t have time for you right now. He doesn’t have time for you at all, it seems as of late. Aside from waking up alone more often than not, he barely pays you any mind throughout the day either.

You know he has a lot on his plate. As the future Olo’eyktan, he has many duties around the clan. Especially as tensions—and his father’s expectations—only rise with each passing day. You try not to take it personally, try so hard to remember the version of Neteyam you fell in love with all those years ago.

But your loving, attentive, thoughtful Neteyam has been gone for weeks now. Replaced with this rigid, strict leader in training. He seems to have one goal as the sky people continue to threaten your home: protect The People at any cost.

Even if that means losing you.

Several hours later, you haven’t seen so much as a shadow of him. Dinner has long passed, the plate you made for him now ice cold. Only a sliver of the sun pokes from behind the moon, twilight bringing the world around you to life while you feel another part of yourself crumble.

You remain in the gathering area, stuck in place for many hours until he strides from the tree line, looking every bit as exhausted as you feel. His eyelids are heavy, face sunken with the effects of not caring for himself the way he should.

Within seconds you reach him. Your hands find his shoulders, palms soothing down his arms to slow his rushed pace. He stops, although begrudgingly, a rough sigh leaving his lips as his distracted gaze flicks toward yours.

“Sorry, baby girl. I’m headed straight to see my father.” His tone is dismissive, and he’s already trying to walk away, but you’re quick to block the path.

“Neteyam.” The way you say his name is firm, a pointed warning that he’s taking this too far. “At least sit and eat something. You are overworking yourself.”

“I can’t.” At this point, you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the moment his eyes soften, the tiniest hint of remorse darkening the usual bright yellow. “We have a big raid tomorrow, remember? There is much planning to do.”

One of his hands cradles the back of your head, guiding it forward to place a chaste kiss along your temple. You jerk back as his hold slips away, moisture blurring your vision. You’re left watching his retreating back once again.

Your jaw clenches, chest tightening with bitterness. Shaky fingers roughly clear the stream of tears coating your cheeks as you stomp toward the place you’d been sitting all night. Sitting and waiting for someone who clearly couldn’t care less.

You tremble with pent up anger and frustration as you grab the plate of food you’d stupidly kept for him, a quiet shout leaving your lips as you throw it into the embers of the evening’s fire. You practically run home, back to the tent you know will remain empty for many hours.

When morning comes, you're alone again, but this time, it’s expected. Jake and the rest of the warriors have been planning this raid for weeks. You were prepared for them to depart long before the sun broke free of the moon's shadow, in hopes of catching the humans off-guard.

You're awake for no more than a few minutes when Kiri comes barreling through the entrance of your tent. She's frantic, eyes wide with panic as they search for you. She runs to your side, fingers curling around your arms tightly.

“Y/N, we need to go.” She jerks you toward the door, causing your legs your stumble as you try keeping up with her rushed pace.

“Whoa, Kiri. Wait a second. What—”

“My dad called over comms. They need help. Now.” She doesn't stop, tugging you out into the main area of Home Tree.

Breath catches in your throat, heart rate doubling at her words. That's never happened before. There's never been a mission that wasn't successful, that didn't go off without a hitch. Fear licks down your spine, a tremble of unease wracking your entire body.

Now matter how difficult or perilous the mission, Neteyam has always come home to you. The mere whisper of danger, of something going wrong, has you reeling. Your mind races, thoughts of him in trouble, injured—or worse—cloud your judgement.

In an instant, you don't have a single care about your own safety, the need to aid him, to make sure he comes home, overwhelming. You jump into action beside Kiri, mounting your Ikran as she does hers, soaring into the sky without hesitation.

The second you arrive on the scene, it's clear the clan is outmatched, and outnumbered. You guide your Ikran upward, hovering over the action while Kiri dives right in. Your eyes rapidly flick over every Na'vi in sight, heart leaping in your chest when they land on Neteyam and his Ikran in the distance.

In a flash, you're weaving through the chaos, trying to reach him as quickly as possible. Breath lodges in your throat, stomach dipping with panic when you see a helicopter swing around the perimeter, humans with huge guns perched at the open doors.

And they’re pointed right at him.

“Neteyam!” Your voice is hoarse with anxiety as you yell his name as loudly as your lungs will allow, hands waving wildly.

His head instantly jerks to the side, brow furrowing in confusion and alarm when he sees you.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing?” His heart is already slamming between his ribs at the mere sight of you among the bloodshed. “Get out of here!”

One of the only things that helps him focus during missions is the knowledge that you’re home safe. It pushes him, reminds him to act carefully. Knowing you’re protected within the layers of Home Tree keeps him sane, allows him to devote all his attention to defending the clan.

He isn't paying attention, hasn't noticed the weapon aimed in his direction. Your mind is moving too fast, thoughts too jumbled from blind panic to see any other option but to put yourself in the way. Without hesitation, you swoop down, forcing Neteyam to jolt to the side.

You block the onslaught of bullets as they rain down from the helicopter. White hot pain sears through your middle, one of your hands leaving your Ikran to cradle your side. Your fingers tremble as they pull back, crimson smeared over dark blue.

“Y/N!” Neteyam cries, eyes popping wide as he can do nothing but watch you sway before tumbling to the ground.

Your face scrunches with another intense wave of agony, stomach flipping as your Ikran calls out and nosedives from the sky. Darkness dots your vision, eyelids growing heavy. Nausea curls in your gut, heart slamming between your ribs harshly.

Neteyam races after you, but he’s a second too late, only catching up just after you crash into the unforgiving earth. He leaps from his Ikran instantly, clambering toward you hastily. He kneels next to your broken body as you lay in a heap on the dirt.

Panic cinches his heart, makes his breath stutter as he forces it from quivering lungs. Shaky hands grip your shoulders, turning your upper body gently to assess the damage.

“Nete…I-I think— ” A pained groan leaves your lips, moisture blurring your vision as you blink up at him.

“No, don’t talk, baby girl.” The words rush from his mouth in one quick exhale. His palms fan over you, as if unsure what to do.

Sharp pain radiates from your side, and suddenly, it’s just too much. Your breath slows, chest rising shallowly as your racing heart settles.

“I’m going to get you help. Okay, baby?” You don’t see the tears rolling down his face, don’t register the turmoil he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to.

When you don’t respond, his head jerks up, eyes widening at your unconscious state.

“No! Y/N? Ma muntxa (mate)?” His hands find your shoulders again, shaking you roughly. He feels the ground shift beneath him, resolve crumbling when you remain limp in his hold.

One of his arms slips under your knees, the other supporting your head as he lifts you from the ground. All thoughts of the mission are long gone as he mounts his Ikran, racing back to Home Tree.

Erratic sobs jostle your body in his tight hold as his chest trembles from the force of rising grief. He’s flying blind, tears clouding his vision as he counts on muscle memory to get him back safely.

The moment he touches down, he’s sprinting toward the Tsahik tent, silently praying to Eywa that it’s not too late.

Neteyam’s head lurches to the side at the sound of quiet shuffling on the other side of the room.

His heart leaps in his chest, not fully believing the sight of your eyes fluttering open. He crosses the distance in a few long strides, kneeling beside the bed that’s been your home for the last three days.

He hasn’t left the Tsahik tent. Not to eat, to sleep, not even when his father tried demanding his help with another raid. He wouldn’t—couldn’t leave you. Not even for a second.

He’s had little else to do but mull over how he’s treated you the last several weeks. His chest hurts, stomach rolling each time he replays the times he ignored or dismissed you.

He’s tried, desperately tried, to remember the last thing you said to him. And he can’t. No matter how long he stares at the wall, willing his brain to recall the information, he just can’t. Each lapse in memory tears at his soul, rips another hole in his battered heart.

He’s gone through endless scenarios, imaging all the terrible ways his life would collapse without you in it. He’s beat himself up, called himself every name under the sun. But nothing will give him that time back. The time he wasted prioritizing everything but what actually matters.

A low groan falls from your dry lips, pain emanating from your ribs at the slightest movement. Your face tightens, and another piece of Neteyam’s heart breaks. His hands clasp yours tenderly, thumbs smoothing over your skin.

“Mawey (calm), sweetheart.” He coos, releasing his hold to swipe a stray braid from your forehead.

You blink rapidly, clearing days of built up moisture to see him clearly. Slowly, you come to, surroundings gradually focusing until you realize you’re in the Tsahik tent. At once, the events just before you passed out flash in your mind, making you wince once again.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” Your gaze finds his, chest tightening at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes. He’s quick to swipe away the tears as they slip down his cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Your brow furrows with confusion, unsure why he’d be apologizing. If anyone is to blame for your condition, it’s you. You put yourself in harms way, and he had no control over that. Your mouth has barely part in protest before he shushes you, fingertips pressing into your lips gently.

“I’ve been a terrible mate, Y/N. But that stops now. Okay?” His voice is full of conviction, expression hard with determination. “I would give anything to take back those days I dismissed you. But I can’t, so I will spend every day moving forward making up for it.”

Warmth blooms in your chest, a wobbly smile splitting your face. Though you never would’ve chosen such drastic measures to make him aware of the way he’s been treating you, gratitude overrides your previous animosity at the words you’ve been aching to hear for weeks.

His lips caress the backs of your hands, planting sweet kisses against your skin before he stands suddenly.

“What do you need, sevin (pretty)? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I will get anything you want. I can even go—”

“Oh, Nete. I-I just need you…” The words are a mere whisper, your voice hoarse from lack of use.

“I’m right here, baby girl. But you need to eat. I bet you’re starving. Let me go get—” Your hands find his arm, latching on tightly to keep him from walking away.

“Please, don’t go, Nete. Lay with me?” Moisture blurs your vision instantly at the thought of him leaving you alone.

A soft breath falls from his lips, shoulders dropping in defeat. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but right now, he can’t deny you anything. Especially not with that wounded look on your face.

“Okay, okay. Don’t cry, honey.” He shushes you gently, lifting the blanket covering your body so he can nestle against your side.

He gingerly drapes one arm over your hips, the other snaking beneath your neck. You settle into the familiar embrace, tense muscles unwinding for the first time in weeks. A contented sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed as a wave of exhaustion washes over you.

“I will give you one hour, and then you’re eating something. Understood?” Neteyam gently pulls you closer, lips trailing against the column of your neck as he murmurs softly.

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your chest as you send him a little mock salute.

He rumbles against you, pressing his face into your skin to hide the way his lips stretch into a grin at your teasing. You succumb to sleep quickly, at last finding peaceful rest within his protective hold.

@fanboyluvr @minjix @daeneeryss @aonungsmate

[littleguypumpkinsheep]

In retaliation let’s do some sweet and lovey-dovey hc’s.

Engineer- You’re already an old married couple on the first date. It’s that kind of domestic, easygoing bonded-for-life kind of love. He may not be particularly flashy about his romance, but damn if he doesn’t make you feel like the most loved and adored person on the planet. Loves to explain his projects with you and enjoys having your company in the garage. Cooks a MEAN breakfast, I just know it.

Scout- He’d absolutely adore you! Helplessly in love immediately. He’s not very experienced and Little dumb about the whole thing, but he’s trying his absolute best. He’d be so devoted to making sure you’re happy and comfortable. Terrible at cooking but would try anyway just for you. He’d like taking you out, even if it’s just to a fast food restaurant. He’d follow you around everywhere like a dog. Terrible at flirting but somehow they work anyways.

Sniper- Not great with words but would definitely show his affection for you physically. I have the feeling he’d prefer softer, more domestic kinds of bonding and dates, like cuddling by the fire or dancing to the music on the radio in the kitchen. He’s kind of clumsy and not well aquatinted with having someone else in his life, but he’d also try his best to make you feel loved. Likes to show off his skills in an attempt to impress you.

Demoman- The most loyal partner you’d ever have. He’d be such a sweetheart, always telling you how grateful he is to have someone like you. Definitely uses cheesy pickup-lines because he thinks it’s the pinnacle of romance. He’s the kind of guy to wear a suit when meeting your parents for the first time. And even though he can’t stop drinking or else he’ll literally Die, I think he’d try and cut back on it a little to spend more time sober with you. Would also def teach you how to make bombs.

Heavy- Just So emotionally intelligent. He’d be the most attentive partner on the PLANET. A great listener, would always make time for you if you were struggling or needed something, it wouldn’t matter what he was doing. Despite his tremendous strength he’d be so gentle and kind with you, he’d love carrying you around and cuddling. A great cook, always loves to make dinner with you. If it was cold outside you wouldn’t EVER leave the house without a jacket; he’d be horrified if you ever got sick! He’d make you feel safe in any situation.

Soldier- Everything he did for Zhanna he’d do for you. Devoted and so in love it makes him look stupid. Would pull the dandelions from someone’s yard to give to you as a bouquet.

Medic- Oh he’d love you so much. Constant praise and affection, he’s so proud and supportive of anything you do. If he got busy with work and couldn’t spend time with you he’d absolutely make it up to you later, a dinner date, just spending time to cuddle, whatever. He’d do anything. Would use the fact that doves bond for life as an allusion to your relationship. If you somehow got sick around him, he’d never leave your bedside. He’d constantly check in on you and do everything he could to make you feel better. Not the greatest with words when it comes to dealing with someone who’s sad, but he’d try so, so hard for you. Excellent to hug. Spy- He’d dote on your every second you were with him. So loving, so kind, so attentive, he’d do absolutely anything to make sure you were happy. Absolutely knows how to make you feel special and sweep you off your feet. Slow dancing, dinner dates at a fancy restaurant, candles and rose petals, flowers, the whole nine yards. If you were on a date together you’d be his sole priority, he’d devote the whole night to you. Very sappy, would definitely use petnames for you. If you were insecure about yourself he’d let you know what he loves about every single part of you. Compliments and sweet gestures galore.

[chubs-deuce]

Hi!! Love your artwork and your Charlastor AU with Dawn!!

I was wondering if you think Alastor would make any dawn-themed dad jokes and puns in your AU, and if he does, what would Dawn and Charlie think of them? I can’t really think of any off the top of my head right now, but I know ‘a brand new dawn’ is a phrase he could maybe use!

Again, love your art!!! If you don’t mind answering questions about it, do you have any advice for artists who want to improve their drawing or any practices that have helped you develop your skills? And are there any particular artists that really inspire you?

You’re one of my favorite artists and I don’t know how to explain it but your drawings have so much life in them!! 🌟

sdlksdflkj thank you so much omg!!!

I'm so glad you're enjoying them ;W;

And he would be insufferable with them lmfaoo, especially because I'm sure Charlie would hop in on a few of them and add to the pile as well xD

One more I can think of rn is "Oh, I was wondering where the sun went!" whenever Dawn enters a room, because the implied punchline is "but then it Dawned on me" or something? XD idk I'm not good with puns sadly

Now regarding the art advice!! This one got HELLA long so I'll hide it under a cut for everyone's comfort lmao

I know it sounds shallow and like worthless advice, but a huge huuuuge part of getting better at art is to just... make art! Practice makes perfect - it develops your motor skills, gives you somewhat of a muscle memory for certain basic shapes that are a necessity to have a good feel of for good foundation sketching.

Practice also develops your eye for compositing and for how color theory actually applies in practice, it basically helps you develop a more consistent grasp on art as a whole :D

There are some things I've learned over time that definitely helped speed things up though xD

here's some rough sketches I did just to demonstrate what my rougher drawings can look like - also a little diagram (on the right side of the image) of things I keep in mind for the average proportions of a human body!

I tend to sketch very loosely and try to capture the overall vibe and silhouette/rough shapes first before I even think about adding details - there's a certain flow, squish and stretch to everything that's just much easier for me to get a good feel for when I use quick, loose brush strokes and as few lines as possible to convey a concept.

Repeatedly sketching humanoid characters of various shapes, builds and sizes for years genuinely helped enormously in getting not only faster but also more consistent with it!

I'm fairly well practiced with hands and expressions especially at this point since I like to focus on those in my art often, so those come fairly easily to me as well now!

Something I learned along the way about keeping a certain liveliness to my artworks is that sometimes you have to forego anatomical correctness a bit if you want to fully express specific emotions - if you try too hard to keep everything perfectly proportional and realistic, it can make the outcome look stiffer than you might've aimed for - this is something I actually struggle with in my cleaner artworks :'D The ones I do proper lineart for, since a lot of the flow of the original sketch gets lost in the process haha

As for artists/artstyles that inspire me...

There's @/southpauz for example!

Her artstyle is unbelievably expressive and her eye for compositing and her use of shapes is SUBLIME - it inspired me to let loose more with my expressions, exaggerate features a bit more and to push the way I try to vary facial features :D

Then, back when I had that massive Rise of the TMNT phase, the artstyle of it has actually greatly influenced how I draw today!

It manages to be detailed and highly recognizable despite its deceivingly simple style - it exaggerates shapes and uses it to communicate personalities, emotions and action super effectively and taught me a lot about utilizing those more efficiently myself :D

And last but not least Ishida Sui - the mangaka behind Tokyo Ghoul (which used to be a highschool obsession of mine)

His striking use of colors, textures in abstract, yet symbolically heavy ways and his courage to be rough and expressive rather than looking polished, yet also having such a solid understanding of realism blew me the fuck away as a teen and still does now!!!

His art may have less of an influence on my style today than it used to back then, but I think in my more exagerrated, more horror-esque drawings you can kind of see it still :'D Either way I greatly admire him as both a writer and artist.

-----

I'm genuinely so so flattered that you enjoy what I do enough to give me such high praise, thank you so much for writing me such a wonderful ask <3 I'm glad I got to gush about some of my favorite artists/artstyles for a bit haha

If you have any more specific (digital) art related questions don't hesitate to reach out!! I love giving pointers about a subject I'm so passionate about, we don't gatekeep helpful information in this house!!! <3<3<3

[imagionationstation]

Wha…?

Holy… Holy mother of mutations, that is a lot. This… Is a lot.

I don’t even know where to start? I was just told a bunch of aggressive facts, but none of them are followed with proof or logic. They were just… said…

@thatturtlemenece is clearly very passionate though, so I’ll do my best to clear things up. 💚💚

“Splinter should not have kids be around kids”? I would like clarification on what this means before I touch on it.

I am so, so sorry to hear that you have gone through abuse, and that it’s hurt you in such a way that you see it in other places. But as someone who has a similar family dynamic to the turtles and can honestly say that I bear no ill will to either of my parents, and would choose my siblings over anyone else in a heartbeat… 

Nothing about this is abuse.

See it from his POV. You grew up as a human. You know exactly what the government could do to creatures they don’t understand, and that if anyone were to see your baby boys, that would be the last time you ever saw them again. The government would take them, experiment on them, hurt them- these defenseless creatures that you have been caring for are now in the hands of scientists from the horror movies who couldn’t care less if they live or die. 

Imagine having that in the back of your mind for years. Imagine looking at your baby boys for years, watching them laugh and mature and grow up, imagine having that weight of responsibility on your chest- that the very second any of them have been spotted, you will lose your babies to a cruel world that could never understand that they are just as much people as every human out there. 

Wouldn’t you want to do anything in your power to protect them? 

But he won’t be there forever. He could go out one night for food and something could happen to him. He could die. He could be captured. And his little boys would be scared and all alone and journey to the dangerous, chaotic, unforgiving and unpredictable surface world totally defenseless. 

You can’t prevent your death, but you can try to prevent theirs.

You grew up as a ninja. You grew up with the honor of your clan. If you train them, if you help them prepare for the world ahead- they won’t have to be defenseless. They don’t have to be in danger, or at risk. They will be able to protect them selves and grow up and maybe even be happy despite being the freaks the world sees them as. They could survive another day, even without you there to help. 

Are you really telling me that you would chose not to train them? That would leave their hands to fate and just hope that nothing ever happens to you? That these precious little mutants that you’ve fed and named and protected at the risk of your life- you’d neglect the training given to you by your father and hope for the best?

Choosing between their innocence and their lives could seem like a hard choice. But in his own words, “As a leader, you will learn there is no right or wrong. Only choices.”

So he trains them. Not because he’s abusive or hateful or wants to carry on some legacy, not because he is selfish above all else- but because he needs them to be safe and to live their lives without having to fear. His most selfish part in this is needing his boys to be safe at the cost of their childhood, and keeping them down in the sewers despite their yearning to see the rest of the world. 

Unlike what RISE portrays, ninja skills can’t be learned in a day. Or two. Or five. They take a lifetime of training. And he needs his sons to be ready for when the cruelties of the world reach past the safe bubble he’s kept them in. He doesn’t know when that could be, so he started when they are old enough to learn.

He has to. It doesn’t matter what he wants. It matters what they need. 

And they need a fighting chance to live. 

Okay. Now that I’ve laid that all out…

I don’t understand what comparison is being made here. I think you’re saying 18, 12, and 03 should have Child Services called? 

I am inclined to agrees on 18, but I’m sure not everyone would agree with me. I can’t completely vouch for 03, but I think(?) I disagree.

As for 2012- what the hacking shell? Why?

Because you think he doesn’t properly feed his kids? Because they are turtles and eat algae and worms?

Donnie, the genius of his brothers, grows it in his lab. His brothers help him to collect it, as it’s stated in Metalhead Rewired. I’m pretty sure that eating worms and alegra is like eating spinach for me. I hate the stuff. It’s disgusting and tastes like crisp paper. I can’t eat it without gagging half the time. 

But it’s good for me, so I have to eat it sometimes. That’s possibly what alega is for the turtles. They eat alega for dinner because it’s a safe, nursing food that Donnie cares for and grows in his lab. They have an endless supply of it, and for all you know, on their mutation day, they had a low supply of human food.

They can’t go to a store. They can’t have it shipped to their home. The boys are not allowed out of the safety of their home, period. Which means Splinter is the only one that can collect food. Collecting food for four growing boys while avoiding stealing as much as he can must take hours. He’s also shown to be an old rat, as he gets taken down hard whenever he battles anyone, often needing to heal for weaks at a time. 

Maybe they were being good sports about the alega and worms because they now how hard it is for him. My parents had weeks where we made the best with whatever we had simply because they hadn’t ran out to the store yet. Not because they were abusive and hated us. Simply because things came up or they felt unwell or they simply hadn’t yet. 

Maybe Mikey was trying to make the best of things with that cake (which I will note was completely Mikey’s idea). 

Maybe he’s not lazy. Maybe he’s just not as young as he used to be. 

Now this is all purely hypothetical, of course. We never see them eating it again, but a lot happens off screen that we don’t see. Donnie still has his alega pools in the second season, so perhaps they are eating it off screen. We see them drinking milk, having soda, and eating Roman- Splinter even has cheesecycles- when they aren’t eating pizza, and it’s never once said that April or even the boys get the groceries. 

My bet is that this is simply one of the things Splinter does when we don’t see him. 

Nobody is being high and lazy. I have never considered my mother high and lazy for making me eat a salad when I wanted a burger. As a human, salads was good for me, so I’ve eaten it. As turtle mutants, this is perfectly natural and healthy for them, so they eat it. Like a salad, but possibly not as tasty with ranch. 

Honestly, I find it beyond sweet that he’s willing to sit down and eat this with them. I doubt that’s necessary for his health, but he’s probably doing it for their sake. In this together. 💚🤎

“Have Raph deal with his mental health using CULT torture-“ 

HE DOES WHAT?! 

Okay, I have no idea what that means but my level of concern here is absolutely through the roof- where on earth is this coming from?? Ep name please??? 

“He is never supervising his kids not because he suffering from mental health but because as he has stated he is not there father and not there parent he is there teacher and that is ALL the responsibility that he holds meaning.” 

He said this?! Once again- ep name please??

I don’t understand. He says “my sons” in practically every sentence when he talks to them! I’ve heard plenty of people have this opinion and I just can’t understand it. I mean- yes, his sons call him sensei, because he is their sensei. When he was dying, they didn’t call him sensei, they called him “papa” and “father” because that’s who they all knew he was all along. 

We already established how he could see the world, and why he would start training his little boys in the ways of the ninja up above, so I won’t get into that again. (This is already super long…) 

He was their teacher, and as my parents have been my teachers in the ways of the world, I don’t see what’s so wrong with them calling him that. His biggest fears was that when his sons outgrew him, he wouldn’t be needed anymore.

A big part of his life was ninjitsu, as it is a big part of theirs, and losing that- losing them, terrified him to the point that he lost his control, and the Rat King was able to take over.

He is their sensei. And he is their father. Why is it horrible for him to be both? 

(Thanks for staying with me this far! I really hope you’ve been keeping an open mind. Much appreciated. Now, just a little more to go!) 

“There is not parental guidance when they see and hear something on the TV hence I’m not surprised Leo is into KARAI or Leo donnie and raph abuse mikey.”

No one abuses Mikey. There is no abuse here. At all. EVER. 

I can totally get into this later if anyone cares about my opinion on this matter (I know it’s going to be unpopular, but I do have reasons), but now is about Splinter. 

Teens watch inappropriate shows. That doesn’t necessarily mean the parents are to blame. Teens fall in love with bad people. That doesn’t necessarily mean the parents are to blame. (My parents raised us with high virtues and self-respect, and my older brother still chased after girls that were not good for him.) 

You can fall in love with a bad person who seems cute/flirty/nice. It happens no matter what shows you watch. 

Perhaps that could be considered a bad on Splinter. I’ll consent to that. But that doesn’t make him a horrible dad. 

“Splinter literally gave karai’s weapon away to April even thigh he KNEW where she was and never BOTHERED to try and get her back! Instead he LEFT her there to be abused and manipulated! And when she comes home he never hugs her or acts like a normal father that has a missing daughter!”

The amount of times this man stared despondently at this photo, visibly hurting and sorrowful because of the family he’ll never truly get back… How does that say doesn’t act like a father mourning his wife and daughter? He looks at it at some points specifically when thinking about Karai.

Also.

Splinter ‘never bothered’ to get Karai because he feared losing his sons in the process. This horrible father who only wanted soldiers (as some people tend to gossip) actually just wanted to do everything in his power to keep his little boys safe. Karai was raised by Shredder. She hated Hamato Yoshi with every inch of her being because he killed her mother. Karai might even kill the sons he spent fifteen years raising and teaching without a second thought.

He doesn’t know her like the viewers do. To him, she’s dangerous and unpredictable. He’s not going to chase down a child, even one with his blood, if it means he will lose his current family. 

Once again, a choice had to be made, and he made one. Maybe it wasn’t the right one, but no choice is inherently perfect. He chose to protect his family. He told them explicitly to stay away to keep them safe. He loves his boys, and won’t risk them for a girl who isn’t Miwa anymore.

To add onto that- Miwa is dead. Miwa died that night with his wife, the same way that Spike died the night he came in contact with mutagen. There is only Slash and Karai now, and they have paved their own paths. The child that he wanted to raise to use this tesson is gone no matter what he does. Karai fights with a wakizashi blade. 

She is her own person, raised in a time that he will never get to be a part of.

But he can train April. He can help protect their new addition to their family. He can offer this honorary Hamato sister the weapon that was meant to go to his Miwa. He has two daughters now, and neither of them are one that he raised. But he chooses to accept them as they are now. 

He lets her take the fan, and lets a new daughter into his heart.

As for never hugging her or acting as a father….

Just because he doesn’t act as you believe he should act, doesn’t mean he isn’t showing fatherly love and compassion- possibly the same way his father did. He loves her, and he is going to show it as only Hamato Yoshi can. 

….With tea parties, apparently 🤣

Again, Mikey is not abused. You can disagree. I don’t mind. I know it’s not a fan-favorite opinion, and I’ll just have to live with that. I don’t mind the hate (okay, maybe it hurts a little 😔) because I truly believe I am correct. 

If you’re willing to hear me out, let me know. I’d love to lay it out for anyone who’s willing to listen! 

[cupcakeslushie]

Time for some Leo centered asks!!!!! Everyone seems to have a lot of questions about our blue boy!

@livsinpjs Daily life for Leo was pretty much zero fun allowed. Wake up at the crack of dawn and train, then studies, then missions or more specialized training with Saki, then sleep. His schedule while in the foot clan was pretty repetitive and boring, with missions being the only time he ever got to have any excitement. Shredder didn’t try to be a father to Leo, but he did warp himself into being Leo’s whole world. This leads to Leo trusting Shredder’s orders near implicitly and pushing himself to his limits to show that Saki wasn’t wrong in making Leo his second. The only time in which canon, smart-ass Leo leaks through is when he has to work missions with (🤐), cause Leo loves the fact that despite his young age, he’s technically higher ranked than (🤐). Despite the older mutant’s years working with Saki—he was still just a part-time member of the Foot until only recently, which Leo throws in his face whenever he can. Regardless, the two mutants are the Shredder’s most trusted and strong Commanders, so they work together well when they need to. There’s even been one or two times (🤐) has shown a very microscopic, teeneey tiny soft spot for Leo, but they’d both rather lose an arm than admit to that 😜.

Kitsune is another constant presence in Leo’s life. One he’s always despised for a reason he’s foggy on. He doesn’t really remember her role in his kidnapping, he’s just always hated her, but he keeps his hatred of her a secret, solely because she’s Master Shredder’s strongest source of mystic power and Saki holds her skills in very high regard. He’s pretty sure she knows anyway, it’s like the witch can see right into his soul—it sets his teeth on edge.

It doesn’t help that a few times a week Leo is required to report to her for what Shredder calls “meditation” sessions, and though he does leave them feeling more calm and centered than before, he konks out as soon as he gets back to his room from how much energy they seem to drain from him. At the same time though, it’s almost as if he’s…dependent on these sessions—if he goes too long without sitting through all her waving hands and chanting, he starts to feel antsy, and irritated, and his thoughts begin to fall out of the neat order they’re usually kept in.

Leo is not great with new people. He’s used to viewing everyone as part of a hierarchy, and either ordering them around, or being ordered around, but when his older memories begin to come back to him, logically he knows that his family doesn’t work like that, it’s just so hard to not slot every person into the roles he’s familiar with.

Raph is the oldest, and the one who Splinter trusts to lead them, but Raph will sometimes request their input and clearly doesn’t take the same kind of pride in his own high rank that Leo used to. April is a total unknown to him, but Raph and Mikey treat her like she’s family (it’s like a knife in his back when he realizes that his brothers appear to trust her more than him but he ignoreignoreignores that feeling). He ignores her for the most part, but eventually sees her as a solid combatant in battle, then shockingly—an emotional confidant when he’s struggling, to eventually a friend, and finally a big sister who he can unwind with.

Splinter seems lost with the way Leo treats him. From the get go, Leo’s trying daily to shift through the lies that Shredder filled his head with, and works hard to treat Splinter with the respect that he’s owed as the head of the Hamato Clan. But Leo’s beyond confused that, this only seems to upset Splinter, which frustrates him to no end, because he’s trying to be as affable as possible, but he just can’t treat Splinter like Mikey, Raph, and April do. Leo can’t magically force those feelings to develop after spending so long hating him. Yes, there’s a part of his brain that knows Hamato Yoshi is his father, and had no say in Leo being taken, but there’s a bigger part that’s been conditioned for years by the Shredder—that’s screaming every time he sees the rat, that Splinter deserves a slow and painful death. But at least Leo’s self-aware enough that he won’t trust himself to be alone with Splinter until he can silence that voice for good. It might break his father’s heart to be kept at a distance and referred to as ‘Master Splinter’ in such a dead tone, but Leo knows it would hurt him worse to know what Leo’s struggling with.

Leo is softest with Mikey because he’s so protective of him, but Leo can be kinda low on everyone’s list, except for where Donnie is concerned, mostly because of his sharp temper. Which Donnie could care less about, because the boy has zero self-preservation.

While Donnie deals with his haywire emotions with a kind of anxiously sad/manically happy mixtured response, and Mikey always tries a positive approach—Leo’s trouble is he can’t really control himself when he gets frustrated. Not without some kind of hard and fast explosion eventually getting out. He’ll go from feeling no emotion and calm, to growling and spitting in an instant. It’s usually only over things like Splinter trying his best to reach out and help him in his own awkwardly painful way, or any time Raph ‘babies’ Leo on accident, or if Donnie’s just invading his space too much. His flare ups are pretty unpredictable for months until he gets a handle on them, and so the others often feel it’s best to leave him to work through his anger in his own various ways. Whether that be storming off for a few hours or destroying a dummy in the dojo.

I think Donnie would’ve been over the moon, but probably not really changed much in the way he approached Leo. He might not have gone so hard in getting Leo’s attention, but would’ve talked just as much and invaded his personal space the same amount!

@uniqueness351217 Hmmmmm interesting….also 2007 TMNT my love. Like, maybe after Leo finally connects with his ninpo, but in order to truly embrace the connection and make it stronger, Splinter suggests he goes on a vision quest for a few months! I think Raph would step up again as full time leader, or maybe April would act as temporary co-leader until Leo returned. Mikey would be sad to see him go, but if Leo was okay with leaving, and promised he’d be back, I think Mikey would put on a brave face and try to keep busy to make the time go by faster (lol I’m not evil enough to make him into a party clown. Shame on those writers—poor 2007 Mikey. Even if it was hilarious. He didn’t deserve those nightmares) Donnie would probably lock himself in his lab for a week and be super dramatic about missing his twin, but he’d work on his tech and maybe refurbish stuff from the scrap yard to sell, for lack of anything better to do.

I imagine if Leo was sent on a mission is take place in between them finally taking down Shredder, so they’ve all earned a well deserved break, but Leo would return quickly when a few months in, the Kraang attack and derail everyone’s vacation.

(I’m still working out the exact details of how the Kraang would fit into this AU, just in case we ever make it up to the point of the movie. I know a lot of y’all have been asking, and I’m hoping we make it that far ;D)

Draxum was furious, but also confused. From what he’d seen of Two, he’d been hoping that with a slow, delicate approach he could get him on his side, but then the child had just up and deserted the Shredder out of no-where? It made no sense from what he’d seen of the boy’s loyalties. Later when he sees him with his brothers though, he understands what’s happened. After all, he’d ordered Three to subtlety exploit their brotherly bond during his meetings with Shredder, but he’d put too much faith in that idea. It seems like Three wasn’t as good at convincing Two as Draxum had hoped. Just another failure on Three’s part to follow any one of his directions.

If Leo had tried the hug back when he was still getting a handle on his temper he very likely would have, but for the most part and especially later on, Leo can reign it in, especially when Mikey and Donnie are concerned. Although he did step on Donnie’s foot pretty hard, both out of shock, and to get him to let go. Also he complained for the entire time it healed.

Leo looking in a pocket mirror he got just to be dramatic: All these years and never once have I managed to marr this beautiful mug! You better hope this doesn’t scar, Don!!

Donnie embarrassed beyond belief but so over apologizing: YOU SURPRISED ME! You gotta warn someone before you just throw yourself at them—!

The entire family turns to give Donnie the most looking, look to ever look.

Donnie: (´∀｀;;;; ) Y-yeah. Point taken.

[elfinbloodbag]

Just a Token

Pairing: Astarion x Áradíhena (f!Tav)

Summary: Light fluff, light longing, just a glimpse into a moment of their journey.

Word Count: 2,309

Warnings: I think this should be very safe, but mentions of blood, mentions of battle consistent with BG3.

A/N: I totally understand there is very little desire to read about original characters, this is mainly just my obligatory once every 3 years one-shot fic with whoever is my current OC. But, if you do read it thank you, and any (gentle) constructive feedback is really welcome as I am hoping to do something with an actual plot at some point!

Gravel crunches rhythmically under Áradíhena’s feet. Under all eight pairs of the rag-tag group’s feet. Leather creaks, metal clinks, and the gravel keeps on crunching. It was pleasant at first; a familiar pentameter for the elf to set her stride by. But after a few days of walking with blood and sweat and grime from their battle with Ketheric still rubbing sores under her clothes, it has become more like the sound of a mill, grinding her ability to think into the very finest of flours.  

As a group they had agreed the best course was to keep moving, to keep pushing forward to Baldur’s Gate. Individually, she thinks they really all would rather take a moment to rest. To really rest. To bathe and feel at least partly fresh and new again. Certainly Lae’zel would never say so, but perhaps if someone else were to speak up, and she could be the last to acquiesce... The terracotta haze across the sky starts dull and become grey around the edges of Áradíhena’s vision as the sun begins its descent into evening.  

After the lifetime spent in the Shadowfell every moment of sunlight, of life and of warmth, feels like a gift, and despite her weariness she can feel warmth seeping back into her bones. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Astarion has his face turned to the sun with his own eyes half closed - the hint of a smile playing about his lips. For a rare moment nothing about his behaviour is performative. He is simply basking in the light that he spent so long without. The warmth of that sight fills her as well. Truly it was a gift. 

Her toe catches on a rock and she stumbles slightly, kicking up more pebbles as she half-jogs forward, trying to use the momentum to catch herself. Lae’zel scoffs, Karlach guffaws, and Astarion chuckles through his words. 

“Careful there My Sweet, no need to fall for me twice.” The vampire’s hand catches her elbow, steadying her more effectively than she was able to do herself. It’s a tender gesture that she is still getting used to. His words carry their usual flirtation and teasing, his eyes are heavy-lidded - but his slender fingertips cupped around her arm, and the quickness with which he stepped forward to catch her can’t be entirely disguised.   

Áradíhena takes a moment to straighten herself up, brushing her hand over his with a light squeeze of thanks and trying to catch his eye. But he is in another world, watching that same hand he lowers his side as if it were the setting sun he had basked in moments before. 

“Time to get some rest I think, before our gracious leader here does herself a mischief.” Gale pipes up after a moment, and Ára hardly contains her sigh of relief. 

“Thank the gods you said it first!” She smiles warmly at him, “I’ve been thinking that for the past, oh, three days, give or take.” 

*** 

The group sits peacefully around the blazing fire, and Áradíhena shuffles her feet, bumping her knee against Astarion’s. On the other side of the fire Karlach elbows Wyll, perhaps a little too hard, in the ribs, saying something about how light on his feet he was as he practically danced to the fire after raising his tent. Halsin whittles a piece of birch he has been carrying for days, and Lae’zel bickers with Shadowheart about preferred weaponry, each firmly planting on opposite sides despite both being skilled with the other’s choice. Gale fusses over the fire, stirring the rich stew and occasionally flitting to his pack to add volcanic salt, or a small amount of dried plum, or some other herb he assures will transform the flavour. She has no doubt it will be delicious, and her stomach grumbles along with the stew. The smell of woodsmoke seeps into her still-damp hair - almost auburn in the orange light of the fire – but it’s better than the acrid smell of sweat that was there a few hours ago. 

She folds forward, laying her chin on her knees and dropping her hands to the floor, causing a series of clicks and snaps along her back. Cold fingertips graze the sliver of exposed skin on her spine, brushing lightly over where the tension has just released. A shiver runs through her and immediately the contact is gone. She begins to reach for Astarion, going to squeeze his knee, to find a way to tell him without words that the shiver was nothing to do with the cold, but drops her hands back to the ground. Instead of saying anything, she rakes her fingers through the fire-warmed earth, searching for something to distract her from the feeling. From the way the firelight seems to put life back into Astarion’s veins where they cord under the rolled sleeve of his shirt.

A small pebble catches on her nail and she rolls it between her fingers for a moment, feeling the sharp edges, the small crags in its shape, and lifts it into the light. It glows a soft, rosy-pink, casting a dull rainbow in a million directions as the light refracts on its unpolished surface. As she sits back up, she holds onto the little piece of beauty from the earth, digging it into her calloused palm and smiling through the instinctive wince. She is still soft compared to the rock. 

*** 

Each member of the party has lips stained red, and Ára adds another layer of colour as she takes a long swig of wine before passing the bottle left to Halsin. With a bust of laughter she almost spits it all back out when Karlach dips Wyll so low to the floor in their dance that his horns graze the floor and he squirms, unused to the sensation. She lifts him back to standing and then falls forward in a fit of laughter herself, slapping her knees so hard that Áradíhena is sure own would buckle with the force. There is an underlying understanding that they may not have long to enjoy these moments of levity and relative freedom, so they share in every piece of joy to be had. 

Áradíhena nudges Astarion with her elbow lightly, and with a rumbling ‘hmm?’ he tilts his head towards her, still watching the dancers with an almost fond expression. His white curls tickle the tip of Ára’s ear.  

“No Astarion, you have to look!” She unfurls her hand in her lap, rolling the rose quartz around her palm so it can catch the light for him to see.  

“What am I looking at?” 

“I found this in the dust. It feels like so long since we’ve had anything beautiful.” She lifts it higher, willing him to see what she sees, to share in this piece of joy with her. 

He leans in a little, and as he catches sight of it a sneer twists his lips, although he very quickly wipes it away and meets her bright gaze through lowered lashes. “Oh look,” he straightens back up and his breath flutters against the hot skin in the crook of her neck as he drops his voice to a whisper, “it matches you perfectly, Pet.” 

Heat spreads across her face and a vibration somewhere between a laugh and a purr runs through Astarion, adding fuel to her flush. One steadying breath later she takes his hand, unfurls his fingers, and drops the small stone into his palm. “Then I suppose it must be yours.” 

His head jerks back and he stares down at the stone, eyebrow cocked and lip curled, “Ára, you found this on the ground!” His voice is comically aghast, “Who knows where it’s been, what in the hells makes you think I want it? It’s not even precious!” 

Fine then. He would not be sharing in this with her. Trying to combat the overwhelming feeling of smallness that overcomes her, Áradíhena rolls her eyes and stands to walk away before she can watch him toss it to the ground as she is sure he will. Companionable and compassionate as ever, Halsin grumbles along and follows her to the stream where they wash up their wooden bowls in a comfortable if slightly solomn silence. 

*** 

The first light of the sun seeps languidly through the window, past the curtain, and casts a syrupy glow over Ára’s face. She’s in a bed. A REAL bed for the first time in gods knows how long, and yet the new day has found a way to rouse her from this small comfort rather earlier than necessary. She stretches out, kicking the sheet off her legs and touching her toes to the wooden bed posts. It was a blessing to find Elfsong Tavern when they arrived yesterday, and entirely worth the minor scuffle over who had first access to the bath. 

All around the room are sounds of sleep. The light snuffling from Scratch and the Owlbear cub could almost lull her back into her trance, if it weren’t for Gale’s muttering and what she assumes to be Halsin’s snores. She sits up, eyes drawn immediately to the opposite side of the room where Astarion normally rests. But instead of seeing the pale elf laying motionless, death-like, on his back when she glances around there are neatly laid sheets free of any sign of rest, and his shirt sits perfectly folded atop his pillow.  

For all his complaints about camping, Astarion hasn’t made best use of their temporary homestead. But, Áradíhena thinks suddenly feeling a weight on her chest, he has the hardest time with rest, with stillness and certainly with finding peace. She hopes that soon they will reclaim that for him. For now, his fearful habits remain. They had spoken alone very little since the quartz incident two days ago, and when they had his growing tension about returning to the city had been evident.  

Although not long ago Astarion had confessed the depth and reality of his feelings to her, she felt more distant than ever. On the verge of losing him to the Rite of Ascension, to an attempt to kill Cazador, to the Elder Brain, or to any one of the myriad of barriers in their path.  

She quickly shrugs on her own loose shirt and begins to stoke the fire, busying herself to distract from the fear, and then from the guilt at her selfishness. Gale and Shadowheart would be glad of coffee when they wake, and she can lay still no longer. 

*** 

“I’m really not sure where to go from here, it feels as though there are one hundred and one things we need to do in the city, all equally important. I’m lost.” Áradíhena hands Gale the steaming coffee, perhaps unceremoniously. She had hardly given him time to dress before seeking counsel, or comfort, or something like either. 

“You know we will all – correction, most of us will – follow your lead here. You haven’t taken us astray this far Áradíhena, I trust you’ll make the right choice on what lead to follow first.” 

“You’re not helping Gale! Everyone wants something different, everyone will be frustrated no matter what I chose–“ 

“You know that I wo-“ he interrupts, trying to reassure her. 

“And don’t think I’m not including you in this!” 

“Then you’ll need to put up with some frustrations. You can’t make everyone happy at all times you know…” Gale smiles a little sadly at her, but his tone is soft.  

Áradíhena heaves her shoulders and rolls her head back with a dramatic sigh, but before she can bounce back with a laugh, Gale claps his hand onto her shoulder, and she knows he isn’t fooled.  

There’s a slight nudge at her wrist, bringing her back to the present. Scratch must have noticed the two of them as the first to be up and about and doubtless wanted to be free of the coup. Odd that she didn’t hear him padding over to them, but she has so much on her mind... “Just a minute, Scratch.” She feels another tug and wafts her hand slightly to temporarily shoo him away. 

She looks back to Gale, saying brightly “How about a morning wa-” but stops short as she sees him smirking, brows raised a little in incredulity. “What?” 

Gale just chuckles and nods towards her hand. 

There, pinned to her cuff with the most delicate golden clasp, is a gleaming red teardrop. A highly polished, beautifully cut ruby in the richest shade of blood.  

“I... how..?” She casts her eyes about the room, slightly slack jawed and looking, she is quite sure, like a fool. In the opposite corner Astarion lounges back on his bed, a carefully curated air of nonchalance all about him as he runs one long finger delicately down the pages of his book and with the slightest flick turns the page.  

The corner of his lip curls into the hint of a smile as he feels her eyes scanning him with less subtlety than she should, and the glint in his eye perfectly matches the ruby. “Now that we’re back in the civilisation, Darling, I thought you really ought to know what a stone of value looks like.” 

“It’s beautiful Astarion, thank you.” She beams and her chest swells, even as she worries about him sneaking out to steal from merchants without her to act as a distraction. 

“Pffft, it’s nothing, just a token. Don’t mention it.” He is blasé, looking back to his book with an air of finality.  He raises his hand to wave her off and brush away the sentiment, and she barely catches the flash of pink inside his sleeve, where he has carefully sewn her rose quartz into the lining.  

[writing-ca-ira]

QUICK! DISTRACTION!

YJ Tim Drake + Reader x Dick Grayson

The mission goes slightly awry, and as a senior member, it’s up to you to keep Tim calm with a distraction… which kinda comes at the expense of Dick’s pride.

I’ve been thinking of starting a strictly platonic relationship blog. Let me know if you’re interested.

The reader is gender neutral.

Contains: landslide, Jaime gets concussed, getting stuck in a cave, anxious Tim, lowkey autism-coded Tim, Dick shows up at the end, it’s up to you if Dick and the reader are romantically involved, senior member reader, Tim and Jaime are basically reader’s children.

Tim was always hard on himself. Whether it was his training as Robin (Batman’s sidekick), his tiring life as Timothy Drake (the heir of Drake Industries), or even his downtime with friends as just plain Tim (a socially awkward teenager), he always found some way to critique himself; to tear himself down by over-analyzing all his mistakes — no matter how big or small — and replay them in his mind over and over and over again. He’d always promise himself that he’d do better, despite the fact that “better” usually meant a flawlessly inhuman performance with no mistakes whatsoever.

So, you knew better than to hope Tim wasn’t mentally beating himself over the head because of your current situation.

Sometimes, the bad guys can be unpredictable (an unfortunate fact you learned quite quickly on this team). They can throw in a wild card that not even your most skilled strategist could’ve factored in before the mission, which changes everyone’s plan of action completely. And, on this mission, no one could’ve foreseen the well-hidden pressure plate in the dark and vast cave’s muddy ground, or the explosion system rigged up to it, or the landslide from the big boom that blocked off the cave’s entrance. It’s illogical to think this could’ve been predicted, or even avoided.

Of course, Tim thought otherwise. As he paced back and forth in front of where you were you with Jaime’s unconscious body, you unhappily wondered what he could possibly be blaming himself for. Maybe that he didn’t magically see the disguised explosives attached to the high cave walls, or the pressure plate that was basically invisible no matter how long you stared at it, or that he couldn’t warn you guys about the explosion 10 seconds before it even happened? All ridiculous thoughts, but the boy had a knack for making his very logical brain conjure up very illogical things.

Doesn’t help that Blue got completely KO’ed, you mentally noted, sparing a glance at the unconscious hero, whose head was gently propped against your thigh. Physically, he was probably unscathed; that beetle armor could take hits from a Kryptonian without cracking. But armor can’t exactly prevent your brain from hitting against your skull, which is what you deduced happened to Jaime after pulling him out from under a giant chunk of debris. The scarab de-armored, much to your unease, and you found yourself hoping it was the scarab’s way of letting you two check its host over (maybe the scarab isn’t as uncaring as Blue makes it out to be). At least you felt better when you saw that Jaime was, in fact, unscathed.

After examining Jaime, you tried your best to comfort Tim, saying that Blue would bounce back with only a minor concussion when this is all over; a mistake on your part. You should’ve known that mentioning a concussion would make your poor baby bird go pale, his hands trembling at his sides as he started to mumble incoherent things to himself. Any thought to backtrack was halted as he started to pace, and you decided it was best to leave him alone for a couple of minutes just so he could calm down.

Well, it’s been 10 minutes. And he didn’t look any calmer. Without the ability to radio Dick, you realized you would have to be Sibling-wing.

“Tim,” you softly called, trying your best not to spook the boy. A grimace tugged at the corners of your mouth when his shoulders jolted at your voice, but it quickly disappeared as soon as he hesitantly turned his head in your general direction. He was avoiding your eyes… not a good sign…

You tried your best to make your tone sound light, with a hint of jovial teasing, despite the situation you two were in. “Why don’t you sit down for a bit? You’re gonna pace a trench in the ground if you keep at that.”

The whites of Tim’s mask widened as he looked at the ground beneath his now stationary feet. Before you could worry that you made another mistake, he seemed to understand that you were just exaggerating, a long yet shaky breath escaping from his lips. All he did was mumble out a small sorry, and you had to fight the urge to frown; if he saw any hint of negativity on your face, he would probably break down entirely, and that’s the last thing you want.

“Here.” You patted the vacant spot next to you (the one obviously not occupied by Jaime). He owlishly blinked at the area before looking you in the eyes for the first time since the explosion. Progress was being made, but you weren’t too keen on the unsure look he was giving you, so you continued. “Sit next to me, Timmers. I need some company.” A pause. “But only if you feel comfortable. I don’t want to force you, bud.”

For a few moments, he stood completely still in his spot. Hope of him accepting your offer was quickly leaving your body, replaced with the nervous feeling that you may have overstepped some boundaries, but your worries were over when he finally shuffled over towards you. Tim was a small thing — probably smaller than what he should be as a teenage boy — so he took up little to no space next to your side. It might’ve been cute to see him curled up against you, his knees tightly held against his chest and his cape swaddled around him, if he didn’t look so close to having a meltdown over everything.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly squeaked out, and you thought you imagined it before he continued. “I’m sorry about all of this. I… I knew it was a bad thing that there were no guards—!!”

“Timmy,” you began, soft so he knew you weren’t mad yet firm enough that he would stop his rambling, “you have nothing to be sorry for. These things happen all the time on missions. No one could’ve seen this coming.”

Tim looked down at his knees. “… I could’ve—”

“No.” You gently wrapped an arm around his shoulder (something you noticed Dick does when he’s comforting the baby bird) and gently rubbed his upper arm. “From the moment we dispatched to the moment we got here, you did everything perfectly.”

You decided to gauge his reaction before saying anything further. He seemed lost in thought again, though you knew he was listening from the way he spared you a quick glance. His fingers were rhythmically strumming against his leg as he chewed the inside of his cheek. Still nervous, but at least he seemed to be considering your words.

“Supes and Dick will come get us in a little while,” you reassured him, pulling him closer into your side to accentuate your statement. “As soon as it’s past 10, they’ll come by in the Bioship and see we’re a bit stuck, and we’ll be out in no time, and Blue’ll get help.”

Mentioning Jaime was a bad idea. The tension that was slowly leaving Tim’s shoulders returned with a vengeance, and while he anxiously stared at his teammate, you bit back the urge to curse. Not good, you groaned in your mind, wanting to kick yourself in the teeth for yet another mistake. But you couldn’t spend too much time thinking about it. Not with Tim’s breaths picking up.

After doing a quick scan on Jaime (thankfully still breathing, so there’s the Are-My-Kids-Okay bare minimum), you playfully nudged at the Boy Wonder’s side to get him to look at you. “Y’know why I know help will be on the way?”

Tim quirked an unsure brow.

Guess he thought it was rhetorical, you noted mentally. Not exactly a bad thing; you could work with this. “Because you were the one who said to rendezvous at 10,” you answered, an encouraging smile on your lips.

At this, Tim seemed to relax a bit. He didn’t look any happier than before, but even the smallest victory was a victory nonetheless. The moment was almost ruined when he quietly responded with, “it’s just basic mission protocol...”

“Not all the time,” you countered. “The thought of a rendezvous didn’t cross any of our minds until you brought it up.” You made sure that he could see your proud smile. “And it was a good idea Timmy. A good idea that you came up with. We could be stuck here for an indefinite amount of time if it wasn’t for you.”

Though he sheepishly looked at the ground, you could tell he felt much better than before. The strumming of his fingers against his leg was slowing down, and he stopped chewing the inside of his cheek entirely. You could even see how his body language loosened up. All good signs, but you didn’t know how long this small moment of tranquility would last; you could see the gears turning in Tim’s head, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he found something to chastise himself with.

Luckily, a brilliant idea came to you in the form of a distant memory (a voice that sounded awfully familiar to Wally’s when Kaldur almost walked into his surprise party before everyone was done decorating The Cave);

Quick! Distraction!

“Dick once threw gasoline at a fire thinking it was water,” you unceremoniously blurted out.

Whatever thoughts that were running through Tim’s head came to a complete halt. His mouth parted to say something, but then sealed shut, and then his hand stilled against his leg. Then, after a long stretch of silence, he finally came up with a response.

“… What?”

“It was in Tuvalu,” you continued to explain. “Back when he was still Robin. Some grass was on fire after a fight with Red Volcano, so he decided to put it out. But he picked up a bucket of gasoline by accident and made it worse.” A fond smile found purchase on your face as you recalled the memory. “Never seen him drop a bucket so fast. Or heard him yelp that loud.”

Tim didn’t seem to know what to say for a couple of seconds. “Wha… how do you mistake gasoline for water…?”

“It was just a bucket,” you shrugged. “Of gasoline. To be fair, that’s kinda weird.”

“… Yeah,” he agreed. “I guess it is.”

Before a thick blanket of silence could settle between the two of you again, you decided to keep going with the steam you had. “He also once punched himself in the face.”

Tim sputtered. “How?!”

You chuckled at the younger hero’s incredulous state. “He had his fist up like he was gonna fake punch me, then Superboy jumped out of the Bioship and scared him. Probably the highlight of that mission, honestly. It was a slow night.”

“Didn’t know it was possible to scare him,” Tim mused to himself with slight disbelief.

“Oh, it definitely is.” You found yourself subconsciously pulling Tim closer while carding your fingers through Jaime’s hair. “I’ve managed to sneak up on him so many times. Back when he was Robin and present day. See, the trick is to take advantage of his extremely short attention span.”

“So…” he hesitated, “you’ve noticed it, too?”

Another chuckle left your lips, this time louder and more heartier than the last. “I’ve been stuck with that jerk since I joined this team. Of course I’ve noticed. Can’t focus on one thing for more than a minute to save his life.” Another delightful memory resurfaced, and you could feel your face light up. “Oh! Which reminds me of the time he burnt my birthday breakfast because he was too busy trying to copy that one dance from a Chicken Whizee commercial.”

You could hear the slightest giggle come from Tim. “He doesn’t even like Chicken Whizee’s!”

“Yeah, but he liked the dance,” was your reply. “Didn’t like it when the smoke detector started going off, though. By the time I was in the kitchen, he was scraping unidentifiable scraps of charcoal into the trash with the saddest expression. I decided to take pity on him and take him out for breakfast instead.” You paused for a moment. “Wanna know where we went?”

Tim offered a giant grin. “Chicken Whizee’s?”

“No wonder Dick calls you the Brainiac Boy Wonder,” you cooed while ruffling his hair.

“He totally does not!”

It was hard to say how long you guys were talking for; you always lost track of time when you told stories of Dick to other people. But it must’ve been a good amount of time, because around halfway through the story of how Dick crashed the Batmobile for the first time, Jaime began to stir on your lap, weakly fluttering his eyes open and closed. You both were relieved to see your teammate conscious again (despite giving him a check-up and realizing that he did, indeed, have a concussion), but your relief was fleeting when Tim started to explain what happened. His shoulders hitched upwards, his hands fiddled with each other from anxiety, his body curled into itself more and more… the cure of his Tim-is-the-worst-according-to-Tim episode was starting to wear off… not good…

So, in the wise words of Wally West;

Quick! Distraction!

“He crashed it a second time, too.”

Tim and Jaime looked up at you with curious looks. Jaime’s was less curiousness and more confusion (though you couldn’t tell if it’s from confusion of not being there for the previous conversation or general concussion confusion), and he groggily let out a small, “who?”

“Di—aAAat dude, Nightwing.” Before Tim could even process your small fumble, you quickly continued. “He crashed the Batmobile. Twice.” You then stuck up three fingers. “Three times, actually. Though the third time wasn’t his fault.”

Jaime carefully quirked his head to the side. “Nightwing crashed the Batmobile…?”

After letting Tim recount the first time Dick took the Batmobile out for a joyride (just to catch Jaime up), you continued on with the second time it happened, then finished off with the third (you left the part out where it was technically your fault). Tim let out a real, genuine laugh about 4 times (yes, you kept count), while Jaime found himself growing more and more shocked at each detail. Poor guy couldn’t process that Nightwing — the intimidating and mature leader — was actually just a giant loser. The trilogy of Batmobile stories evolved into the thrilling saga that was Dick’s fridge issues (which you solved by finding out the fridge was unplugged), then into the time he got stuck in the ventilation system of S.T.A.R.R. Labs (you remember his explanation being, “I fitted last time,” despite the “last time” being 3 years prior).

Unfortunately, before you could tell the story of Dick breaking Wally’s souvenir shelf, the sounds of rocks being pulled away from the cave’s entrance made you all flinch.

“Oh, yeah,” you simply said. “I totally forgot about the mission.”

“And the rendezvous time,” Tim admitted as he pulled away from your side.

“And my concussion,” Jaime groaned as he rested his head against your arm.

Enough rocks were moved that you could see Dick and Connor working together to free you guys. As comfortable as you were with your junior members, you practically lost all feeling in your legs, and it was definitely a good idea to get out of this cave. Tim stood up first to offer Jaime a hand. You spotted the concussed kid as he shakily got to his feet with Tim’s help, then stood up right after him. By the time Dick and Connor completely cleared the way (Connor doing most of the muscle work), all three of you were waiting patiently.

“Hey,” Tim casually chirped.

Dick, however, seemed to completely ignore the greeting. “Are you guys alright?! When you didn’t show up at the rendezvous, we thought something bad happened…!”

“We’re good,” you answered, a hand behind Jaime’s back to keep in steady. Well, speaking of Jaime… “Blue got a concussion, but other than that, we’re good.”

“A concussion,” Connor echoed, brows furrowed. “Is that why you’re de-armored?”

“Yeah.” Jaime’s tone didn’t sound all that pleased. “Scarab said that… in the event that I were to be deceased… it wants to be ready to find the nearest candidate to be its host.”

… Guess that scarab really IS cold-hearted.

Getting Jaime settled into the Bioship was easy enough. Connor gave him one last concussion test before talking about his own concussion experiences, and you soon recognized it as a tactic to keep Jaime awake. Meanwhile, Tim’s cheeks were a blotchy pink from Dick’s kind praises, his older brother gushing over how well Tim did this mission (and everything that was said was true; Tim was the MVP in your eyes). As a hug was shared between the two, Dick offered you a soft smile, which you gladly returned. Thank you, he mouthed, and you couldn’t help but let your smile grow at that.

Just as you were about to join Dick’s side, however, Tim shot his brother a questioning look. “You tried to put out a fire with gasoline?”

The smile on your face dropped, with Dick’s face seemed mirroring yours. The only difference was that, while his eyes squinted in confusion, yours widened in realization. A quizzical hum left Dick’s lips, and before you could scramble to interject, Tim continued. “And you punched yourself? Oh, also, do you still remember that Chicken Whizee’s dance? I wanna see it.”

You felt your heart drop in your chest as Dick slowly looked back up at you. It didn’t take long for him to put together the pieces, a deadly glare being shot your way. All you could do was helplessly look away, hoping that maybe Jaime or Connor would come to your rescue.

Well, it became evident that your hero wasn’t going to be Jaime. “We heard you crashed the Batmobile three times,” he called out, soft enough that it wouldn’t hurt his head but loud enough that Dick would hear it.

Connor’s brow raised in interest at this comment (so he also wasn’t going to be your hero). “Three times?”

“Two times,” Dick bitterly corrected, his gaze still on you. “I don’t think our dear friend (H/N) told the story right.” His face then broke out in a wicked grin. “Well, good thing I’m willing to set the record straight. Right, (H/N)?”

… Now would be a really good time for a distraction, wouldn’t it?

[aethersea]

📓!

There’s an atla au of star wars that I have tried so hard to bend into a shape that I can actually write, but alas, all I have are ideas. This is the one that’s in the wips folder as Everything Changed when the Clones Attacked, which is ironic bc I cannot for the life of me figure out what to do with the clones. Maybe they’re being brainwashed at Lake Laogai? Or something???

Anyway. The story has two parts, prequels and sequels. Details under the cut, because this got a bit long.

In the prequels, the elderly Master Yoda of the airbenders is Avatar, and in his old age he’s stopped traveling the world and instead dispenses his wisdom from one of the great Air Nomad temples, nestled deep in the mountains where only Air Nomads can reach. He’s unofficial leader of the council of Air Nomad elders, which is….not great, really, not how things should be, but it’s mostly been okay. He’s been a good avatar overall, and it’s only in later years that he’s leaned so heavily toward the Air Nomads, and really none of this is enough to push the four peoples truly out of balance. 

Our story starts with Qui-gon Jinn, an airbending master traveling with his apprentice, helping a besieged queen from a minor Earth Kingdom escape her city. (I saw a post once asserting that the Earth Kingdom is actually a collection of largely autonomous kingdoms that all loosely recognize the authority of the Earth King in Ba Sing Se, and I like that a lot, so that’s the worldbuilding I’m going with here.) Qui-gon agrees to take Queen Amidala to the Avatar’s council to beg their aid. 

Along the way, they encounter a young boy living with his mother. The boy can do a bit of earthbending—and also a bit of waterbending, and a bit of airbending, and a bit of firebending. Which is impossible, because Avatar Yoda isn’t dead, but there he is, bending all the elements anyway.

I don’t think there’s slavery in the atla universe, but we could probably get away with indentured servitude of some kind, and Qui-gon acquires Ani in much the same way as he does in canon. He takes him to Avatar Yoda—and Yoda rejects him. Says, essentially, “This is weird as hell but it’s also not my problem.” (Frankly I can’t come up with an actual good reason for Yoda to do that, but just go with me here.) So Qui-gon angrily responds that if the Avatar won’t take responsibility, he will, and then gets himself enmeshed in Amidala’s political problems to boot. 

And then he dies.

Something something evil emperor, yadda yadda you know the drill. (Though I think the empire isn’t going to be the Fire Nation, despite the thematic appropriateness of fire spreading unchecked to consume all in its path. Palpatine is gonna usurp the Earth King, I think, and I do feel the prequels’ themes around entrenched systems with deep flaws, which are too big to fight as individuals and too implacable to change, will fit well with atla themes around earth.)

The sequels portion of things is even less plotted out. All I know is that Luke grows up in the same nameless patch of Earth territory his father grew up in, and he doesn’t actually discover he can waterbend until he’s practically an adult. It’s a shock to everyone—except, somehow, weird Old Ben who lives in the desert, who tells him that the next Avatar is supposed to be a waterbender, and won’t explain why he’s so convinced Luke is that Avatar given that he’s pretty emphatically not from the Water Tribes. 

Luke is finally convinced when he manages to airbend, under Old Ben’s suspiciously skilled tutelage. He can’t pull off any other elements, though, so they go off on a road trip to that swamp where you see spirits, to try to reach the past Avatars and get some guidance.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to both of them, Leia has grown up knowing she can firebend. This is kind of an alarming skill for the princess of an Earth Kingdom to have, and even more alarming given that she’s already an earthbender. So she’s kept it secret, and no one but her parents has ever known.

They can meet in some way analogous to the Death Star raid in A New Hope, idk I have zero plot in mind here. The point, as far as I’m concerned, is that the Skywalkers have fundamentally broken the Avatar cycle. Anakin shouldn’t exist, and yet he does, and he was born while Yoda was still alive. If he hadn’t existed, the next Avatar would be a waterbender, and that’s Luke—except he’s from the Earth Kingdom. If Anakin is a true Avatar, then the next one would be an earthbender, and that’s Leia—only then she shouldn’t have been born until after Anakin’s death. Nothing makes sense! Even Yoda and all the other past Avatars together have no goddamn clue what is going on!

Imagine their consternation when they discover that neither Luke nor Leia is the Avatar: it’s actually both of them together. Luke has air and water, Leia has earth and fire; Luke can visit the spirit world and be the bridge between humans and spirits, and Leia can speak to kings and maintain the balance between the four nations. The two of them, together, can defeat their father, defeat the emperor, and restore harmony to the world.