#he's the awkward uncle

[jello-bbq]

Oel Nga'ti Kameie

(Platonic! Tsu'tey x Avatar! Reader) (Platonic! Jake x Avatar! Reader)

Jake is not the only avatar the Omaticaya decide to take a chance on. A failed government experiment must also prove themselves alongside him. Will this prove too much for an already overflowing cup? Will their insanity be cured? Or will they spiral further with Tsu'tey as the one assigned by Mo'at to teach them?

Listen. I know the child as the government experiment with an obviously traumatic backstory who also has frequent nosebleeds is so overused but it had to be done.

Part 2

They had only meant to observe. To watch. To guard Grace and Norm as they took a few samples from the trees. And yet here they were, stuck on top of a tree. How had they gotten there?

Fuck if they know.

Jake had been playing with some plants, motioning them over when he'd seen them watching curiously.

Without hesitation, they followed, barely dipping their hand into the curved divots before the plant shrunk. It had brought out a laugh from both of them. "Fun, right?"

And then it wasn't. The plants reacted in chains, all plunging in a way that had them laugh again. Jake raised his gun, aiming behind them.

When they turned, a large creature stared right at them. They reached for their gun.

"Don't shoot!"

The creature did not break eye contact, and neither did they as Grace continued.

"Trust me marine, you cannot pierce that hide. You'll only piss it off. Don't run either, stand your ground."

They felt it more than heard it. The tension lowering every so slightly as Jake put the gun down. Or at least they hoped he did, because they could only take so much of knowing a gun was at their back.

The creature snorted, swinging its large head and smashing the nearby trees. Cracking sounds filled the air. Wood splintering to fine pieces.

Grace was still talking in a low voice, sharing facts that certainly did not help the threat of being crushed to mush. Or their spine splintering like the trees had.

As they stared they felt something in their gut. Instinct. A feeling telling them to act on it. And so they did, stepping forward and hissing at the large creature, hammerhead tita-something, Grace had said.

The 'angtsik stepped back ever so slightly, letting out an almost relenting snort. Iridescent fans flared out at each side of its large flat head and it bucked forward, showing that it would not give up so easily.

That seemed to spur Jake on. He ran out from behind them, waving his hands in the air and yelling as he did.

That made the 'angtsik halt, fans folding back. It bowed slightly and turned.

Jake laughed, unbelieving that it actually worked. "Yeah, that's right! Who's bad?" He whooped, yelling at the creatures retreating backs. "That's what I'm talking about, bitch!"

They shook their head, smiling. You'd almost believe there were two children on this mission.

The victory was short-lived.

As Jake went to shout more curse words, they felt a prickle at the back of their neck. They ducked. Just in time to catch a glimpse of something black flying over Jake's head.

"What about this one?" Jake rushed, raising his gun again. This time, they followed his lead and raised their own.

The new creature turned to them. This one was smaller, but something about it screamed that it was more dangerous. They say prey should know how to identify a predator. "Run, don't run? What?"

"Run! Definitely run."

And so they did. The palulukan fell behind them, choosing to go after Jake, but they didn't know that. No, every echoing footstep rattled behind them. It was close. It was gaining. Its teeth were just inches from their neck.

Maybe it was the new environment. Or the lab experiments fresh in their mind. Perhaps another defect to add to the list. But they fully believed the palulukan stayed right at their heels.

Instinct took over reason. Screaming that every sound in the forest was the palulukan after them.

Nothing made sense after that. And so, they woke up in a tree. How had they even fallen asleep? Where was the palulukan?

They felt too tired to ask. Cogs in their brain freezing together as their surroundings sunk in.

Pandora. At night.

A beauty they had never seen. Until now.

Bioluminescent moss clung to the branches. When they peered over the edge of the tree, the glow dotted the forest floor below. A constellation shining so brightly it drowned out the sky.

They almost made their way down, startled instead by some small animals huffing around in the undergrowth.

A bit too late, they noticed the lack of a gun. Nothing to defend themselves with but a knife tucked away in their boot. And so they decided not to push their luck. They stayed in the trees. Trying their best to weave through the forest on the branches, but their best clearly could not compare.

As they tried to gather the courage to jump from one branch to another, they didn't hear the rustling in the trees.

"Come on," they muttered, trying not to get distracted by their glowing surroundings. Or else they'd never make it out of the forest. That sounded agreeable still.

A figure in the shadows, cleverly hidden, draws its bow. A clear shot at one of the Sky People that dared to roam in fake forms. There is no hesitation, and his grip almost loosens before a different glow fills the air.

Startled, the figure stares at the atokirina. Seeds of Home Tree. Sacred to Eywa. It flits right over the blade of his arrow, still aimed for the killing shot. It moves up the carved wood and rests in the air in front of him as if making sure it would be seen and understood.

And he has no time to dwell on it as the seed flies away, accompanied by the sounds of what could only be a person falling to the ground.

They had fallen. Slipped on a patch of moss as they ran forward for a headstart. So much for staying off the forest floor. "Fucking hell," they grumbled, wiping a bit of shining moss from their face.

It isn't long before they notice. Figures surrounded them. In the haze, they can hardly tell, but they all hold something sharp-looking and shiny, pointed straight at them.

It is also instinct to raise their hands. A fleeting show of peace as they stand slowly, blinking fast to get the blur out of their sight. Were they crying because the fall hurt? "I'm-" they try, words catching in their throat as one of them moves forward.

Clearly the leader of what appeared to be a hunting party. He sits tall on the direhorse. Imposing. Demanding respect. Arrow drawn directly at their heart.

"Why do you venture into our lands?" He asks, and it shocks them for only a moment that they could understand the words.

"I didn't mean to, I got lost-"

The Na'vi scoffs. "Of course, you are lost." He leans in slightly, if only to dig the tip of the arrow against her collarbone. "You Sky People are in 𝘰𝘶𝘳 home."

They say nothing. For what can you say against the truth? Nothing. So they take a different route. They step forward.

The Na'vi on the direhorses shift, holding their bows tighter, pulling at the strings more. They see it even as they keep their eyes on the one in front of them.

The blade pierces skin and in the light the shade of red is beautiful. However, no one pays attention.

"Kill me then." The words aren't said lightly. They carry a weight that the leader almost reaches to understand. "I am one of the Sky People, shoot me."

Four fingers grip the string tighter. Golden eyes narrow, and again he finds himself nearly releasing the killing blow.

This time, he is not interrupted by one atokirina. This time, they flood into the small clearing.

Their eyes widen in awe. No idea of the situation's weight. Not knowing anything but whispers of prayer, a soft exclamation of wonder. They don't understand why breaths hitch when one touches their hand. Or why the bows drop to their sides when more start to find their way to them.

One hovers over the wound on their chest, still dribbling crimson. It hovers as if in disapproval, then moves to fly in front of the Na'vi whose arrow made the cut. Hugf

They stand painfully still, afraid to move and scare them away. Though they still did not know what they were. Or why they were here.

The moment is beautiful while it lasts, but eventually one starts on its way, and they all do. They leave behind nothing. Nothing but the memory of their feather-like touches.

Only then do they notice how much the air has changed. There is still the tension, now more of a background note as confusion takes the lead. "What?"

Something is said in Na'vi, a quick beat of words. An order.

The words prick at their brain. A feeling all too familiar. But they have no time to dwell on it as arms grasp them and they are hoisted up onto a direhorse.

It is instinct again that has them wrap their arms around the one in front of them, who they recognize immediately by the way he grunts.

When they deign to pull away and take their chances, the Na'vi speaks. "Do not move unless you want to fall off."

And with that, the direhorse is rushing through the trees.

Their hands tighten at the sudden movement, a leaf slapping them in the face. A slight rumble felt in their fingers has them sure that was intentional. Though there is no time to hold a grudge.

The forest whips past them, a blur of color that has their head spinning in the best way. It isn't long before the gallop slows to a casual trot and the blurs turn into figures. Plants, trees, large arches of roots. A soft stream here and there.

The beauty isn't lost on them, their head swiveling to try and take it all in. Hair flies everywhere. The Na'vi they cling onto grunts again and despite wanting to mouth off, they shut up and move slower.

They'd love it if the plants were the last things they would ever see, and they were sure they would be.

The hunters were taking them somewhere a body could be disposed of easily. And that body would be theirs.

Pain courses through their shoulder. A flash of color accompanies it, a moment of red. The feeling is so clear that they flinch, turning sharply.

"Stop that," commands the Na'vi in front of him, "𝘴𝘬𝘹𝘢𝘸𝘯𝘨." The last part is added under his breath.

Briefly, they wonder if the Na'vi had hit them. But their shoulder remains untouched. No sign of crimson, not even of the pain they'd felt just a moment before.

No, they knew what it was. The ever so present hauntings of her past.

To some people, the past haunts through unrelenting memories. You see something, anything, and are somehow reminded of the past.

To them, memories had nothing. The past haunted them with aches. By brushes of searing pain, echoing all that they had ever felt before. And their life had plenty of pain to portray.

A cry signals their arrival. Drums follow, welcoming the hunting party back. The sound brings them back, and the pain is almost completely forgotten as they stare.

Roots so tall they resembled mountains. Sheets of glowing moss coating everything in soft light.

Hometree, standing tall and proud. Crafted so beautifully by Eywa. The love of the people almost tangibly flowing through it. If there were words to describe the sheer awe in face of it, they had yet to learn to them.

The same people gather, sneering as they realize meat isn't the only thing the hunters have brought back. And the avatar is reminded it is not their place to be in awe.

"Demon," some of them hiss, making sure to say it in English.

They realize they still hold tight against the Na'vi, and releases their grip. The horse moves slowly enough that they do not fall off.

The crowd follows, even as they dismount and weave through them, pulled along to the Olo'eyktan.

When they reach the front they meet the eye of Jake, who mirrors the look of confusion. Jake is being pulled through the crowd as well, and the crowd reacts similarly.

"𝘖𝘦𝘭 𝘕𝘨𝘢'𝘵𝘪 𝘒𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘪𝘦, 𝘖𝘭𝘰'𝘦𝘺𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘯."

Their attention turns back to the conversation happening beside them. They know the greeting but hold off, thinking they would not take kindly to it seeing as they were a demon.

"𝘖𝘦𝘭 𝘕𝘨𝘢'𝘵𝘪 𝘒𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘪𝘦, 𝘛𝘴𝘶'𝘵𝘦𝘺."

The foreign language itches at their brain. They try to fight the feeling, knowing what is next, hoping that they can hold it off.

Jake is pushed alongside them as the greeting is returned. They spot the Na'vi who had been pulling him. For a moment the itch stops. She had moved to stand a bit farther away, which piqued their interest.

Especially as the other Na'vi, Tsu'tey, keeps his grip on their forearm firm. His other hand held a spear as if ready to plunge it into their chest at a moment's notice.

"𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴?"

The words are forcing their way in. Squirming as the itch intensifies. And their efforts at repression are futile. Their eyes clamp shut. Information floods the front of her mind. Phrases. Words. Infixes. Crowding their thoughts and drowning them out.

Only Jake seems to notice, trying to hide his concern. "You okay?"

It lasts a second but feels longer. Like time had slowed and each millisecond brought more pain. And then they understand, but the pain doesn't go away. Like needles piercing through bone.

They understand the previous words now, even with the fog of pain.

"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦." The words are solid, unmoving. Tsu'tey clearly thinks the same as he struggles to spit out words to say otherwise.

They were curious too. They had almost accepted that they were to be shot and thrown off a cliff far away. Instead, they were here. At the very heart of the Omaticaya.

"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘌𝘺𝘸𝘢." It is the other Na'vi that speaks up.

"𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦! 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦!"

Absentmindedly, they sniff the air. This does not go unnoticed by Tsu'tey, whose glare and grip become firmer.

"𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘛𝘴𝘶'𝘵𝘦𝘺."

"What's going on?"

For a moment, the English sounds foreign. Their brain falters, like it has been worked to overdrive and is sputtering to cool down. Which, they suppose, is exactly what it is.

The pain starts to subside, slowly, as if it doesn't want to leave. And they are reminded of what comes next. The blood. This time, they know they have to hide it. They sniff.

"My father is deciding whether to kill you."

The blood begins to drip.

"Your father?" Jake moves from their side. "Nice to meet you sir-" Instantly he is surrounded. Spears surround him, the hunters hissing as the blades glint.

Tsu'tey is among those that stepped forward to threaten his life.

They sniff again. The blood drips.

"𝘌𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩!" A voice rings out. "𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘴."

Everyone turns, and the distraction is enough for them to wipe at their nose, their hand coming back with a smudge of crimson. No one notices, hopefully.

The pain has dulled enough that they can look up and see the one approaching them. Her gaze is severe.

"That is Mother. She is Tsahik- the one who interprets the will of Eywa." The Na'vi speaks softly, bending down as if worshiping the ground to be walked on when the Tsahik draws near.

"Who's Eywa?"

They tap at Jake's hand, shaking their head lightly without looking at him. How was he so stupid?

The Tsahik stops in front of them, looking at them in disdain. "What are you called?"

"Jake Sully."

An expectant look is thrown their way and they almost ask why before Jake says their name for them.

"Do you not speak?" The following gase seems even harsher. Or do you not wish to?

She moves to them first, procuring a long thorn and noting the wound tracing just below their collarbone. They don't flinch as the thick edge of the thorn comes up to trace it. Quickly, harshly.

Their blood is tasted, and she moves on to Jake, striking his chest with a flourish. The sharp end is brought to her lips this time, and his blood is tasted as well.

He hopes Jake is smart enough not to comment.

"Why have you come to us?"

They decide to leave the talking to Jake. He was better at that. Besides, they were fighting the next drop of blood slowly making its way down their nostril.

"We came to learn."

"We have tried to teach other Skypeople. It is hard to fill a cup which is already full."

They almost react at that. Their captors had certainly tried. And succeeded, his mind reminded him.

"My cup is empty, trust me. Ask Dr. Augustine, hell, ask them. I'm no scientist."

"What are you?"

They brush a finger under their nose, hoping to play it off as natural.

"I don't know," he faltered. "I was a Marine- a uh, a warrior. Of the Jarhead clan."

That almost has them snort. Tsu'tey laughs outright. "𝘈 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳! 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺!"

"And you?" All reaction ceases as the Na'vi look to them.

"I was-" they clear their throat. "I am also a warrior." An oversimplification, sure. But they did not feel like baring all the nuances of what they were.

More reactions. Jeering. Laughing. "𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘴!"

"𝘕𝘰!" That one word is enough to silence all reactions. The Olo'eyktan speaks again. "𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯. And the first child. 𝘞𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦."

"What's going on?"

"𝘋𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘛𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰."

She goes to retort but the Tsahik turns to Tsu'tey, effectively cutting her off.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸." She turns back to her daughter, conveying the same message.

They feel Tsu'tey would argue if he could. But instead, his gaze hardens, not even trying to plead like the other.

Finally, she turns to them. They almost don't notice, another drop of blood slowly creeping down. "You will be taught the ways of the people."

The sound fades momentarily, as if someone's turned down the volume. Thankfully, she is talking to Jake and when she speaks again, the words are clear. "Tsu'tey will teach you. Learn well. We will see if your insanity can be cured." She gives them both a final look before turning away.

Staring at her retreating back, they wipe at their nose again. More crimson.

[lala-blahblah]

I get why people headcanon that Trucy would call Edgeworth "Uncle Miles" because it represents how close he is to Nick and Trucy and how he's basically part of the family etc. HOWEVER I cannot help but imagine the shock and horror of passersby who hear Trucy call one man "uncle" and one "daddy" as they watch Nick and Miles interact lovingly in public and come to the conclusion that Nick is openly cheating on his spouse with his spouse's brother.

[compaculaaa]

Ok... but does that make the high guard a group of emotionally dense family members?

yes

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [19]

A couple days ago, or maybe it’s been a week now, there had been a horrid storm.

It had been bad enough on the surface but underwater it had caused extremely powerful currents that have dragged a very young Garth away and into the unknown.

He really should have listened to Atlan and stayed put…

Lost and alone, a Little Garth has found himself a lot closer to the surface than usual, the sea currents are still churning pretty bad and he simply can’t navigate his way back to anything remotely familiar.

At this point he’s quite hungry and tired, and he’s found that catching something is somewhat easier nearer to the surface.

However, now something entirely different has caught his attention.

still safely tucked away under the waves. Garth is watching two surface dwellers. judging by size they should be even younger than Garth is, which probably means their caretaker(s) are nearby.

Garth is about to leave them to it and go his own way when he catches on to the erratic kicking movements of the smallest one.

oh, he’s pretty sure surface dwellers aren’t supposed to stay underwater that long, that is if Atlan’s stories are correct.

And even though he’s somewhat terrified, he finds he can’t just… though he probably should…

Well, he ends up saving Danny from drowning.

Jazz and Danny’s parents are busy with a supposed haunted shipwreck and not paying attention.

But by saving Danny Garth found by Maddie and Jack. Who are worried that Garth is there all alone which is like... kinda hypocritical but whatever.

No ghost, but they got a sea boy!

and that quickly has them reassessing their disappointing conclusion that the wreck isn’t haunted, clearly the ghosts are somewhere underwater! After all, the ship was lost at sea and simply washed ashore.

Garth can’t really communicate that great with the Fenton’s. He doesn’t know english, and they do not have telepathy, the only thing he can catch from them is impressions of their emotions, which does make figuring out “yes” and “no” a bit easier.

At first he decides to accept their offer of shelter and food simply because he’s tired and hungry, and they seem like good people even if they are from the surface.

Then Garth makes the mistake of getting attached. All of a sudden he’s put in a eldest brother role. Jazz is determined to teach him english with her kid books and Danny has been attached to him like a barnacle ever since Garth got him out of the water.

And Garth’s needs aren’t even remotely treated as some sort of annoyance, they make note of his need for lots of water and adapt easily.

Everything is extremely overwhelming but thankfully for Garth they don't make the offer to take him with them to Amity Park right away.

They are on a family trip so they stick to the sea for another week and a half or so. After that they ask if he wants to just come with, Danny basically begs him, having an older brother seems like the best thing ever to him.

And Garth ends up taking the offer cause the last week was better than most of his lonely life so far, even if everything is weird and difficult and he can't communicate right.

[deckoftrickcards]

WAIT WHY IS HE FUN TO DRAW HELP (notice the gay earring plz)

[moodlemcdoodle]

After a year of doing art in secret (and forgetting to post anything… I’m sorry I will have my backlog queued up soon!) I have finally accumulated enough power… to revive my ancient human superhero Sonic AU and make it actually good! Here’s a bunch of my sketches, mainly of Sonic and Tails but also of a bit of lore… More to come later!

[roominthecastle]

[logansgaar]

one of my favorite headcanons is that Steve is Awkward Uncle Shaped and Bucky is Dad Shaped.

Steve's not that great with kids, like at all. He cares about them and thinks they're delightful but he has no idea how to actually interact with them. Things like talking to them, going along with their imaginary games, knowing when to play around and when things are getting out of hand, knowing when to and how to discipline them depending on the situations, panics and over thinks when he has to hold babies (why do they always cry!? is he evil!? what did he do, help??) or knowing what to do when they cry, he finds he can't quite get the maturity right so he ends up talking down to older kids or talking too advanced for really little kids, and also isn't great at telling ages in general (he swears he really did think Wanda&Pietro were a lot younger than they were, and then Peter he thought was older, he knew he was a kid but like 19y. kid not 14y. kid ya know? He got muddled okay, give him a break the kid had a mask on). He's so, so SO sweet with them and wants to be good with them, it's why he agreed to do those PSA's, but he's mostly kind of hopeless with them and best with them at an arms length.

On the flip side, Bucky was basically a third parent to his sisters, he half raised them and is still to this day a natural with children. Even in his Winter Soldier state he was known to botch shots because children got in the way (he was even really good with the Widows in his WS state, and if asked he'd say having to train the Widows is the hands down the most painful thing he's had to do...) He's the kind of good with kids where he's happy to entertain them but he can also do all the responsible stuff and is the guy who calls it when other adults get too silly and dangerous/irresponsible with play time. Can also recognize ages pretty well, including by the voice and has really strict opinions about when it's appropriate to talk to children aka never without their guardian present unless they're in clear distress or danger (such as in airports, he'll fight the kid but he's not talking to him, okay, leave him with his strange logic, or in the middle of the street singing a creepy ass lullaby whether you need to find info out for a mission or not glaring daggers at Zemo). He's fucking shit at talking to adults these days though and has pretty much accepted that his social butterfly days are dead and gone in the 40s.

[buster-loves-pr]

I think Ziggy are the twins second favorite person beside Dr K. (Well for Gemma maybe third. after Flynn. You know I realize I hate the RPM canon ships) Rewatching RPM bc.. I’m too tired from a 10 hour job to sleep. He’s like the only one who doesn’t really get annoyed at them and tries to understand and do stuff with them.

[voiider]

I think mayhaps that Batman should exclusively be a member of the Justice League Dark. He doesn't really like working with people but also sometimes John Constantine is like "You know Batsy, If you help me save the world by proxy it saves Gotham" So he does begrudgingly. But only sometimes when they need help with some things because he's like a very good detective and sometimes you need that! But also mostly I just want the rest of the Justice League to not believe that The Batman is real??

There's an issue that they need dealt with and they think it's a demon so they call Constantine and he's like "nah mate, this is just weird ritualistic sacrifices, I got a call to B-man on this one"

And Superman is like "haha The Batman isn't real... Right?" And then they meet him and he is very much real.

And Diana is all like "Oh Clark you silly, obviously The Batman is real" But internally she's like "holy shit The Batman is real???"

Green Arrow still doesn't believe it because he keeps missing any mission that The Batman happens to go on and he's like "If The Batman was real my best friend Brucie Wayne would have told me so. Brucey said that the Batman is just a scare tactic created by the Gotham Police department" So he's pretty sure that the rest of the Justice League is just playing a long practical joke against him specifically

[sugar-soda]

Kids Shouldn't be Here: Paladin Danse

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

A/N: This is NOT romantic at all! This is all platonic relationships that explore how the Fallout 4 companions and game would change if the Sole Survivor was a young child. Any romantic suggestions or reblogs will be blocked.

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Combat was no place for a child.

That's why the Brotherhood of Steel rarely let squires out on the field. Even reconnaissance missions could go quickly sideways if hostiles are spotted. So children were kept on base for their safety. On the rare occasions they are allowed outside, it was often in groups and they were to be escorted by at least an equal number of knights. In the event they are attacked, they were given strict instructions to retreat or find cover if retreat was impossible.

Despite this, training for all brotherhood squires started very young. At age 7, basic defense maneuvers were taught and simple training regimens would be implemented into a squire’s daily schedule, increasing in difficulty as they aged. By starting at a early age, they would be fully prepared for any situation when they were allowed to go off base.

The Brotherhood took great pride in their defense of their young members, which led to many adults feeling safe enough to have a few little ones themselves, if they are able.

Not everyone did, of course. Some were just unable to reproduce, others had no desire for children, and the rest felt like it was unfair to have a kid if they were constantly out in the field, finding the likelihood of their death way too high.

____________________________________________________________

Paladin Danse, for one, just never had the thought of having his own kids. He was too busy with his duties as a Paladin and never desired to cultivate a relationship, much less one that would lead to fatherhood. So, the idea simply never crossed his mind. 

Now, he didn't hate children. He just never had much of a chance to interact with them. On a few occasions he had assisted with class training and demonstrations, but those were few and far between. He was also never assigned to escort any groups of them as a knight, which he is thankful for. The children's lack of discipline and excitement for potential danger would likely drive him up the wall, and he couldn't scold a kid for having fun. At least when helping with a class, their teacher would be there to reign their youthful energy into something productive.

Right now, the Paladin could use some of that energy. The attacking ghouls seemed never ending. 

Ever since they first stepped into the Commonwealth, Recon Squad Gladius had taken loss after loss. Knight Brach, Knight Worwick, Knight-Sergeant Dawes, all dead to this god forsaken place. 

Now they lost Knight Keane.

Danse would never admit it, but he believed that there was a high chance of all of them dying. With Knight Keane dead and Knight Rhys injured, it left only him to fight off the ghouls attacking the Cambridge Police Station. Scribe Haylen was assisting the best she could, but was currently using one hand to shoot, and the other to put pressure on Knight Rhys’s injury, so her aim was inaccurate at best.

Danse prided himself on his skills in combat, but his lack of sleep and pounding headache had left his own aim absolutely abysmal. He had seen civilian children with better aim, he swore.

One ghoul got much too close to him. If he wasn’t in his power armor, he would have been cut by its long, infected, clawed nails. Danse blocked the thrashing feral with his arm and shoved back, knocking it off its feet long enough to pull the trigger. God, how many of these things were there?

“DUCK AND COVER!”

A young voice screamed out from…above? The situation only was made more chaotic by the explosion of a molotov cocktail thrown over the defensive wall. Multiple of the ghouls fell to the fire, dead on impact as more mindlessly ran through the flames. Two additional lasers shot past him, and a gunshot cracked in his ears. Danse quickly recovered and fired at the closest feral. He could ask questions later, right now he had to insure the survival of what was left of his squad. Even if that meant accepting backup from unknown forces.

“Civilians in the area! Check your fire!”

The fire had considerably weakened the attacking ghouls. Now, they were falling in one or two shots. The final feral threw itself at Danse, only for a bullet to rip through its neck before making contact.

Danse kept his guard up and scanned the perimeter for additional threats. Nothing. No more ghouls at the moment. Excellent. He turned to look at where the additional shots came from and assessed if they could be threats.

A man and a Mr. Handy, and if the shouted warning, the explosion, and the sound of bullets ringing in his ears was any indication, there was an additional person, though he assumed they weren’t as young as their voice sounded like. His guess was a sniper of some sort, which is how they were able to throw the cocktail so far. He wasn’t sure where they were shooting from, but there were enough structurally sound buildings around that any of them could have had a fire escape that could be climbed.

The Mr. Handy looked standard enough. Nothing to indicate it was  different from its more violent counterparts, except maybe a cleaner finish. It was clearly well taken care of. Maybe that’s why it didn’t appear hostile toward anyone, now that the ghouls were cleared. In the event it did turn violent, Danse was confident he could take it.

The man may be a more difficult threat. He seemed well-built and he appeared unphased by the ghoul attack, holding himself similar to Danse wished more knights would. Stern, straight backed, and collected while holding his laser musket at the ready. This man clearly had training in combat. Still, Danse was sure his power armor gave him more than enough of an advantage should the need arise. He opened his mouth to thank the man, but was cut off by him looking up and yelling.

“Sunny! Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mr. Preston, I’m fine! They didn’t even get close to the fire escape.”

The clattering of a rusted, metal ladder was heard, followed by quick footsteps as the previously unseen sniper rushed past the wall.

Oh. So he was incorrect. The sniper was as young as her voice sounded. Danse frowned. The rifle on her back clearly registered her as the sniper, but he had difficulty believing someone so young would be able to handle such a powerful weapon. The recoil alone should damage her shoulder, not to mention the weight of the weapon. 

Such questions were not important at the present moment, however. More pressing matters needed their attention. These civilians may not be completely benevolent in their assistance. With the squad's weakened state, it would be easy for a well armed group to overtake them. He was confident he could take on each of the three individually, he wasn’t sure he could take on the man if the girl and Mr. Handy was giving him backup. His power armor was strong, but enough damage could cause it to break and leave them vulnerable.

“We appreciate the assistance, civilians,” Danse said, addressing the man. “But what’s your business here?”

The man moved himself, so he was in front of the girl. “We were on our way to Diamond City when we got your distress signal. It sounded like you needed a hand, so we came.”

The girl held up her wrist, showing off a Pipboy attached to it. “I picked it up on my Pipboy!”

The Commonwealth must have more operational vaults than the Wasteland. She said it so casually and without concern, despite the rarity of the device. She must have been from a Vault herself, as Danse could see now that she wore a vault suit under her duster and sparse leather armor. Though it didn’t explain her presence here and not underground.

“You know, when you first meet someone for the first time, it’s typical to introduce yourself. Not interrogate them,” the man said, almost sounding as if he was teasing. Danse knew that dealing with civilians should be dealt with more gently, as they couldn’t be expected to have the same discipline as a Brotherhood soldier. The death of his comrades have left him wary, however, believing caution to be the best way to move forward.

“Apologies. If I appear suspicious, it’s because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we’ve been constantly under fire,” He apologized. If the man was willing to help, it would be unwise to anger him. “I’m Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side.”

Danse held out his hand in a gesture of goodwill, which the man shook. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. This is Sunny Roberts, I’m escorting her to Diamond City.” Danse had heard very little of the Minutemen. Any data on the cause was collected before his squad was sent out. Trained troops of volunteers would travel the Commonwealth responding to settlements in need of defense when called. A noble and honorable cause no doubt, but overly charitable and unfocused, with no stated way of collecting needed resources for their men. So he had to assume a single civilian being escorted by one was standard procedure.

Roberts pulled one of the arms of the Mr. Handy as she introduced the robot. “And this is Codsworth!” 

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, good sir!” it said, waving a claw in greeting. Danse really didn’t want to interact with it more than he had to, so he was relieved when Garvey continued speaking.

“I’m a little surprised to see Brotherhood all the way out here. I heard a little about you guys back in the day, but I thought you guys were all based in the west.”

“Affirmative, we are generally located toward the west coast. However, we have been sent out on recon duty, but I am down a man and supplies are running low. I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak to reach them.”

Haylen finished stimpaking Rhys and spoke up, “Sir, if I may?”

“Proceed, Haylen.”

“I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but i’m afraid it just isn’t enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal.”

“Our target is ArcJet Systems, and it contains the technology we need…the Deep Range Transmitter,” Danse told Garvey. “We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter, and bring it back here. So what do you say? You willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?”

Garvey looked apprehensive, but Roberts nudged him. “Mr. Preston, they need help. That man clearly needs more than a stimpak and I think I saw Haylen run out of those anyway.”

Danse suppressed a frown. Roberts was perceptive. While that wasn’t the last of their stimpaks, it was the last Scribe Haylen had in her first aid kit. There were two, maybe three, at best inside. The last of the Radaway had been used two days ago during a radstorm. Not nearly enough if they wanted to survive any future attacks.

Garvey, luckily, seemed to cave to the light pressure. “Yes, we’ll help you, but we will need more ammo and supplies if we want to get to ArcJet Systems. The last I heard, their security system was still operational.”

“I can assure you that I wouldn’t undertake this mission unless I had confidence in your abilities,” Danse assured. He turned and went toward Knight Rhys, who was only now starting to sit up with Scribe Haylen’s assistance. “Haylen, take Rhys inside and bind his wounds. That stimpak won’t be able to heal the more superficial wounds and we don’t want them getting infected and becoming a bigger problem. Rhys, once you're on your feet, I want you to make certain that the perimeter is secure.”

Once he heard their confirmations, he turned back toward Garvey. “Resupply yourself inside the police station, then let me know when you are ready to begin.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roberts had shot past Danse and Garvey, the Mr. Handy following fretfully behind. By the time the rest of them had filed in, he could already hear her rifling through ammo cases in one of the side rooms. He restocked his own supply of power cells at the front desk before allowing Garvey to grab his own. Danse watched as Sunny emerged from the side room and sat down on the floor near the door with a magazine and Nuka-Cola, using her duffle bag as a seat. The Mr. Handy started undoing and then redoing her braids, earning a quiet “Thanks, Codsworth” in return.

“Your charge seems awfully…attached to your robot.” Danse told Garvey. While he was aware of Mr. Handys being used for childcare before the war, and therefore likely used the same in vaults, seeing it do so was still unnerving.

Garvey looked up from counting his ammo and looked at the duo, unfazed by their strange display. “You mean Sunny? Yeah she’s pretty close to him, but I don’t blame her. He’s kinda all she has left.” Preston lowered his voice and said, “Both of her parents were murdered and the man who did it kidnapped her brother. That’s why I’m escorting her to Diamond City, to try and find leads on where he is now.”

Danse frowned, sympathetic to the girl, but still confused. “Surely there were more capable residents of the vault than a child. Despite her impressive abilities, she is still a prime target for hostiles.”

“There are no other residents,” Garvey stressed, now continuing with filling his ammo belt. “According to Sunny, none of the other residents' pods would open, and the terminals said their life support got cut off. She’s the sole survivor of that place”

Now he was more confused, “Life support pods? Were the residents quarantined due to disease? Is it wise to allow a potential carrier out in the open?”

Garvey shook his head, “No, she’s perfectly healthy as far as I can tell. At least physically.” He checked on her again. Now she insisted on the Mr. Handy lowering itself on the ground, to have it read along with her. If it wasn’t for its creepy eyes appearing to scan the page, Danse would have assumed it had powered down. Garvey lowered his voice again all the way down to a whisper, “The reason she was in there was she’s pre-war.”

Danse flicked his gaze back to her. She was snuggled up the best she could to the Mr. Handy, pressing a cheek to the cool metal as she scanned the magazine's pages, her knees propped up. Danse would admit he had difficulty telling a child’s age, but there was no way she was a teenager. Her height and awkward limbs suggested she was about to hit puberty, but her chubby cheeks and higher pitched voice showed it may still be awhile.

“I find that very difficult to believe.”

Garvey finished filling his ammo belt, and put it on. “Believe it or not, it’s true. The vault froze the original residents as soon as the bombs dropped. Nonconsensually. Apparently, they were told the pods were for decontamination. Sunny said one moment her father was telling her it would be alright, the next? Everyone’s dead. She’s only been out for a few days”

Dear God. Danse couldn’t keep the shock off his face. It was appalling how this happened. Vault-Tec had the technology. They could have kept the residents and their descendants alive for centuries, he knew they could. It was well known that the legendary Lone Wanderer was from a vault. But instead they committed atrocity after atrocity. There was a reason most vaults sat rotting, with all residents dead. Except it didn’t kill this one, just left her as a child out of place and out of time. 

“She…seems to be handling it well?” he started uneasily. It was hard connecting an orphan left in the vault to the child chugging the last of her Nuka-Cola. 

“Most of the time, she seems fine,” Garvey started, “ but if you remind her of what happened to her parents or what happened in the vault, she starts to break down. Happened when I first met her. She was fine until I asked her where her parents were. So it's best to avoid the topic.” The Minuteman straightened up and readied his musket. “Ready to go?”

“Affirmative. Follow my lead.”

Danse didn’t realize a third member had joined them until they were going down the steps of the station. “Roberts, return to the station. Haylen and Rhys are fully capable of watching you until Garvey’s return.”

She continued walking even as he addressed her, Codsworth following behind. “No, I’m going.”

Danse had to remind himself that she was not technically under his command, and pushed away the feeling of disrespect he was just hit with. Grabbing her by the shoulder, he contined, “I can not allow a civilian minor to accompany us on a potentially hazardous assignment. We will return shortly.”

“Arcjet worked with the military, so they had to have a great security system.  You'll need someone hack into terminals and shut it down. I know you can't, Mr. Preston, and judging by the locked terminals in the station, I'm betting you can't either, Paladin.”

Garvey, luckily, seemed to be on his side. “I know you wanna help, Sunny, but you're going to be vulnerable if we get in a fight inside the building. Codsworth can only lay so much cover fire, and Paladin Danse and I won't be able to protect you.”

Roberts shrugged off his hand and adjusted her duffle bag to reach inside. “ I know I can’t fight if someone gets close. There’s a reason I use a sniper rifle. That's why I grabbed this at the station.”

A Stealth-boy was pulled out of her bag and held up triumphantly. “I can cloak myself so no one can see me, and uncloak when I need to use a terminal, or pick a lock, or something.”

“The lockpicking I'm sure won't be necessary, Miss Sunny,” the Mr. Handy cut in. He sounded a little put off, but Danse was sure that was his imagination.

Sunny rolled her eyes good naturedly, and zipped her bag back up. She clipped the Stealth-boy onto her duster for easy access before continuing forward. “Besides,” She added, “that Rhys guy looked like he wanted to shoot me in the back. I'm not going back in there with him.”

That made too much sense, unfortunately. Danse knew that Rhys took great pride as Brotherhood knight and had a poor temper with it. Having your superior protect you during combat was nothing to be a ashamed of, but needing assistance from two civilians and a machine was probably where Rhys drew the line. His ego was bruised and Robert's unusual attachment to the Mr.Handy drew a larger target for his ire. 

In the Brotherhood, everyone should be treated with decency. Civilans should be treated with caution, as they were outsiders, so it would understandable to appear cold but it was still a soldier's duty to protect them and show they were not a threat until threatened. Superiors should be treated with the most respect, those of the same rank all held the same duties and should understand each other, and subordinates should be led by a firm but fair hand. Rhys’ temper often kept him from that. He had already received multiple dressing downs for aggressiveness toward fellow knights, insubordination toward superior officers, and mistreatment of scribes and initiates, which is why he was unable to climb the ranks any higher.

If he contined his behavior, he would recieve another for his attempts of intimidating a child, of all things.

Danse sighed and relinquished the argument. Mostly to avoid further headaches. “Very well. But I expect you to listen to every command Garvey and myself give you until we return,” he stated. 

Roberts smiled. “ Yes sir, Mr. Paladin!”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So what exactly is the Brotherhood of Steel? Like, what do you guys do?”

After Danse had given explanation on what had happened to lead his squad to such dire straits in the Commonwealth, silence had fallen over the group as they jogged toward their destination. While the power armor lengthened his strides, each step was slower, so Garvey was able to keep up easily. Roberts’ shorter legs made the trek more difficult for her, as she was practically running compared to them. Despite this, she was able to break the silence about 10 minutes afterwards without sounding out of breath. Must have been all that youthful energy.

The question was reasonable, he supposed. The Brotherhood of Steel formed after the bombs fell, and haven't been in the Commonwealth ever. So they wouldn't be spoken about often enough for someone who's only been out for a few days to know about them. Danse racked his head for the recruiting methods he learned as an initiate. 

“Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology. It's power. It's meaning to us as humans. And we fight to secure that power from those that would abuse it,” He stated. It wasn't the exact wording, but it was close enough he thinks.

“What do you mean by ‘abuse’?”

“Before the Great War, science and technology became more of a burden than a benefit. The atom bomb, bi-engineered plagues, and FEV are clear examples of the horrors technological advancement had wrought. We are here to make sure that doesn't happen.”

Roberts stayed silent for a bit, mulling the words over in her head. Danse was sure she would agree. She saw first hand how much was lost in the Great War. How technology in the wrong hands could rip apart families and kill entire nations. 

“So what do you do when they do?” she asked, “Who decides who should and shouldn’t have certain things. Like, I get raiders and killers shouldn’t get, like, an atom bomb, but what if a small town has one or even just a lot of advanced weapons? What do you do then?”

Danse couldn’t help but be reminded of the story of the Lone Wanderer finding a small town built around an atom bomb, funnily enough. Apparently she had shut it off, but he questioned the validity of the story. “If the town is willing, we would temporarily relocate the citizens and send in a squad to disarm the bomb, dismantle it, and take the individual pieces to a secure location. In the case of the weapons, the same procedure is followed or they are to be put under the protection and control of the Brotherhood,” he said.

“And if they aren’t?” Roberts pressed. “I mean, I can’t imagine why a town would want a bomb, but the town could have those weapons for defense, not to hurt anyone.”

Danse swallowed, and continued, aware that the answer would sound wrong to someone so young, though maybe not so naive. “If a town is unwilling, they are put under control by force.”

Sunny didn’t ask any more questions.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roberts kept her promise in Arcjet Systems and stayed out of the way. When the synths first showed up, Danse was concerned when he immediately lost sight of her. Then she faded back into sight and he remembered the Stealth-boy she had. On occasion, he swore he saw a tire iron swing down on a synth across the room, but that was it.

“Damn it, a dead end! See if you can get the door open.”

“Got it!”

Roberts kneeled down in front of the door and carefully placed a bobby pin and screwdriver inside. Carefully turning the lock slowly and looking for the sweet spot. The Mr. Handy spoke for the first time since they left the station.

“Must you use such a criminal skill, Miss Sunny? Even hacking the terminal would be preferable.”

“Locking picking is faster. I promise you can lecture me later, Codsworth.”

Garvey leaned curiously over to observe her work. “Where did you even learn to do that? I didn't think schools before the Great War taught how to pick a lock.”

She was silent for a moment before answering. “ They didn't. I learned from a magazine and practiced on Mom and Dad's safe until I got it right.” a light blush bloomed on Roberts’ face. “I thought the cover looked cool.”

The Mr. Handy sighed, “ Sadly, I didn't find out about this terrible exercise until she had already cracked the safe open and had moved onto Mum's jewelry box.” the robot gave a simulated sigh. “ After that, I insisted we switch the liquor cabinet over to a five digit combination lock.”

“I wasn't going to go through the liquor cabinet,” Roberts pouted, but made no further argument. She replaced the bobby pin with another before attempting the other direction.

Danse leaned closer alongside Garvey. Roberts showed much potential for her age. Already well versed in combat, and possessed other skills to further the mission. If a few rougher edges could be smoothed out, she could become a very successful Brotherhood member in the future.

“ Roberts, have your Stealth-boy ready. There are more synths on the other side of door.”

“Got it.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once they had gotten to the engine core, it seemed like the synths had multiplied. Roberts had disappeared as she should, but Danse hoped they didn't accidentally leave her behind above them. As they reached the bottom, the lights turned on. Excellent. Roberts must have gotten ahead and restored the auxiliary power. 

Danse backed up against the glass of a window so none of the synths could attack from behind. The Mr. Handy had set up in front of the stairs, blocking any more approaching synths with a well placed shot.

Garvey kept moving around the room, as the slow reload of his laser musket left him open for a melee attack if he didn't stay out of arms reach.

“Paladin Danse!” Roberts pressed her face up against the glass from the other side. “I can turn on the engine from in here and take out all the synths but everyone needs to get in here!”

Adjusting his footing to back up toward the door, Danse yelled out to the two others. “Everyone inside the engine room now!”

Garvey and the Mr. Handy retreated into the the room, Danse bringing up the rear. His armor acted as an effective shield for the two as an automated voice started a count down. By the time it called out three, the Mr. Handy closed the door and Danse and Garvey pressed against it to keep the synths from getting in.

A scorching wave of heat hit the door as the engine roared to life. Garvey jumped back away from the red hot door, but Danse stayed against the door. His power armor was made to handle extreme temperatures such as this. While he wouldn't take unnecessary risk like standing in the flames, the heat off the door was negligible at worst.

As the engine sputtered off, Roberts ran down the hallway towards them. “ Is everyone alright?”, she asked, “That engine is way more powerful than I thought. It didn't just fry the synths like I thought it would, it turned them to ash!”

Danse made a mental note to inform his superiors of the deadly engine. While he had no idea how someone without the Brotherhood resources would move the giant thing, but it would be better to deal with it soon rather than find out who. Danse looked down at Roberts. She had dirt on her face from the window and her braids were once again a mess but she appeared relatively unharmed as she looked  up at him.

“Great job,” Garvey praised, “ Sorry that I doubted you.” He affectionately ruffled her hair, causing more of it to fall out of her braids.

“Excellent work, Roberts.” Danse added. “With the power on and the way cleared, we should be able to locate the Deep Range Transmitter.”

Roberts grinned. “You're welcome, Paladin Danse. But you can just call me ‘Sunny’. ‘Roberts’ makes you sound like my old principal.” 

Not knowing exactly what a principal was, Danse agreed to the small request.

“Very well, Sunny. Let's move.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my gosh, the sun's too bright now! I think I spent too long in there!”

Danse had to agree with Sunny as he squinted against the harsh light in his eyes when they exited Arcjet Systems. The Deep Range Transmitter was secured and the whole building cleared for another squad to later survey for other resources.

Danse turned and faced the group. “ Thank you both for your assistance with securing the Deep Range Transmitter.” He focused on Garvey. “ If you are interested, I'm sure the Brotherhood of Steel would be proud to have you join our cause.”

“The offer is appreciated,” Garvey smiled, “ but I'll have to decline. Just make sure the Brotherhood knows to leave the settlements alone.”

“As long as they cause us no problems, that should not be an issue,” Danse agreed before turning to Sunny. “As a token of appreciation, take this,” he handed her his spare rifle, “ it's a standard issue energy rifle with a few modifications. The lack of recoil and shorter range will be more suitable for defense in closed areas.”

Sunny took it gratefully, “Thanks! I already live with a semi-permanently bruised shoulder. All this leather armor can only do so much. I don't think I can live with my wrist being like that, too.”

Danse felt a little smug. He knew she couldn’t use that rifle without repercussions.  “The offer stands for you as well. It's not every day we have a squire so far ahead of their peers. You could become one of the youngest knights we ever had with more proper training.”

“Oh! Well, thank you for the offer,” Sunny hesitated, clearly unsure on what to do. “ but I don't think I'll have time for training. You see, I'm looking for someone and I have to follow my leads. So I can't stay at your Brotherhood base.”

“Accommodations can be made for your…unique circumstances, I’m sure once I explain the situation to Elder Maxson, he would sign off on it himself” Danse pushed, as Sunny awkwardly shifted her feet. “ and the Brotherhood resources could be used in your search. To my knowledge, you are looking for your younger brother, correct?” 

Sunny sent a quick glare to Garvey, who looked unrepentant. Then she looked back at Danse, “Yes, I’m looking for my brother. His name is Shawn. The man who killed my parents took him, and I’m going to find him."

“I understand,” Danse comforted. “I also understand you need all the help you can get. While you would be expected to uphold Brotherhood values and rules, you would be under our protection. Since you are also under the Minutemen, your presence will serve to prevent hostilities between the groups.”

“But I’m not part of the Minutemen, Mr. Preston is just escorting me.”

That caught Garvey’s attention and he raised an eyebrow. “Sunny, you’ve been an honorary Minuteman since you helped at Concord.”

Her head whipped around in shock and her eyes grew bigger. “Really?”, she asked excitedly.

“Yes,” laughed Garvey good-naturedly, “just don’t expect me to give you assignments. Not until you're older. The word ‘honorary’ is there for a reason.”

Sunny whipped around once again to face Danse again, grinning widely and holding her hand out. “Okay, Paladin Danse, if you can convince your boss to let me continue to live outside your base, I’ll join the Brotherhood of Steel. Don’t make me regret it!” She pointed a finger at him.

Despite himself, Danse smiled lightly. “Excellent! Glad to have you, Squire Sunny.”

[lucky-clover-gazette]

just spent three hours verbally outlining a revised star wars sequel trilogy with several nerd friends and i love our version of ben solo that doesn’t exist

[calypsolemon]

If i am totally honest I kind of don't like how harsh some of the fandom is at Greg sometimes for being literally homeless and having a magical gem son at the same time. For sure there are places where Greg actually messed up but I feel like in the case of Steven partially growing up in a van and not really having access to medical care and lacking structure because of it is like. Homeless and poor people have kids and its not a moral failing on their part for our society not helping them meet their needs, yknow?

[thrumbolt]

Maybe Tamlin was pissed about Feyre's pregnancy because no one came to ask him if he couldn't just drop by for 5 seconds and shapeshift the babies wings away for the birth.

Like, it's his power. He's a high lord. He could easily change the appearance of that child in her womb for a few hours.

But nah, they rather risk her dying.

[innytoes]

Happy birthday @jatp-spinsb!

"I don't think this is a good idea," Ray said, twisting the leash between his nervous hands.

"Come on, Dad, it's too late to back out now," Julie cajoled him. "You said you wanted to help Flynn and I with our charity project."

And Ray had. He thought it was great that the school had this program. It helped teach kids planning, coordination, they did a lot of writing for the advertising. He just... hadn't expected Julie and Flynn to go this hard.

"I thought you meant with photography or setting up or something," he said. "What happened to a good old fashioned bake sale, anyway?"

"Everyone does a bake sale," Carlos rolled his eyes. Carlos was also helping, but mostly in corralling dogs behind the scenes. "Besides, this way they raise money for the shelter, and they might adopt out a few cute dogs! It's a double whammy."

"It'll look really good on our college applications," Julie said, giving him the best puppy dog eyes in the room. Which, considering the amount of puppy dogs back stage was saying something.

On stage, Flynn was talking up a storm, raising the price of 'Eligible Bachelor Number Three And Muffin The ChiWeenie' steadily. It helped that Eligible Bachelor Number Three, also known as Flynn's Uncle Todd, was a bodybuilder and about twenty years younger than Ray. Sure, officially people were bidding on a date with the dog and the 'bachelor' was just a 'chaperone', but Ray didn't think the two ladies in a bidding war cared much about the dachshund-chihuahua mix in his arms.

"Sold to the lady in the red dress for two hundred dollars!" Flynn said, cheerfully. Todd happily coaxed Muffin down the stage.

"Come on, dad, you can do this," Julie said, squeezing his shoulders. He tried not to think of the fact that she'd made him swap his shirt out this morning for a tighter one. "Besides, Donut is a really cute dog. Don't you want her to get adopted?"

He gave her a Look, but before he could say anything, Flynn called him up on stage. With a sigh, he went. "Our next bachelor is chaperoning Donut! Donut loves long walks on the beach, belly rubs, and discussing whether or not Han Shot First."

Ray tried his best to smile, walking Donut up and down the stage once and showing how well behaved she was, sitting on command (with a treat for enticement, of course).

The bidding started at fifty dollars, and for a moment Ray's heart seized. What if nobody bid at all? What if Flynn had to lower the price? What if-

"Fifty dollars!"

And then the bidding was off. Someone else bid sixty, and he showed off how Donut knew how to high five, scratching her ears fondly when she did. "You're a good dog," he told her, because it was way easier to focus on her trusting, sweet face than on the sea of people staring at him like a piece of meat. From behind the stage, Julie motioned at him to stand up again, and Carlos made some flexing motions.

He chose to ignore his son, but he did stand up and smile at the crowd.

Seventy, eighty. The bidding got slower, as Flynn rattled off true facts (Donut was great with children) and less true facts (Donut's favourite art movement was Dadaism).

And okay, maybe he flexed just a little. Subtly.

Then...

"Three hundred!" Someone from the back called. Which, considering they'd only just reached ninety, was a bit of a shock. He tried to look into the crowd, but he couldn't really see who was bidding. It was a male voice, though. There was some murmuring, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the ridiculous price hike, or because of who bid on him. Well, Donut.

"Do I hear three-ten?" Flynn tried, but nobody raised their hand. "Sold for three hundred to the enthusiastic gentleman in the back!"

"Whoo!" came the answer, and Ray laughed a little as he and Donut went back down the steps of the stage on the other side. He followed the little arrows Julie and Flynn had put on the floor in tape, and then he was at the meeting point.

He crouched down again, telling Donut what a good girl she was, laughing as she flopped over on her side so he could give her belly rubs. He was so busy loving on her, that he almost didn't realise someone came up to them.

"Oh wow, she really does love belly rubs," he said, and Ray looked up, smiling.

And then froze.

Because that was Reggie Peters, the bassist of Sunset Curve.

Reggie Peters had paid three hundred dollars to go on a date with him.

No, pull yourself together Ray, he told himself. He paid three hundred dollars to help charity and meet a cute dog. "She does," he agreed. "She also really does like long walks and the beach. And she's very cute." Donut gave a happy little doggy pant in agreement.

"Yeah well so's her chaperone," Reggie Peters, the bassist of Sunset Curve said.

Oh.

Oh.

[cometblaster2070]

all these people asking for an easy mode a spectator mode or a dating sim in elden ring meanwhile I have the superior idea that there should be some sort of reality tv show sort of nonsense like keeping up with the kardashians/the real housewives of beverly hills where the tarnished gets stuck between the drama of the lands between's messiest family.

i would KILL for the drama like can you just imagine seeing all this shit go down in real time? (i bet you at least once an episode there'd be either a murder or arson attempt)

stay tuned for a separate spin-off focusing solely on the antics occurring in volcano manor. and while we're at it maybe a mini-series revolving around miquella and malenia; something like "miquella and malenia take on the consecrated snowfield!"