#parental relationship

[cottonlamby]

I LOVE HIM I LOVE THEM. BRING THEM BACK!!

His head feels funny

I read someone said Kinger says he “killed Caine” and not “deleted Caine” because he sees him as a sentient being. MY SWEET POOR BABY HHHHHH

— ☁️ — ☁️ — ☁️ —

[witchofthesouls]

Sari Sumdac in Bayverse is so funny to me because not only would she definitely be a weird lab-derived baby from Megatron's matter and Dr. Sumdac's DNA, but Bayverse Megatron and Optimus are split-spark brothers with Sentinel 'we were gods once' Prime as their father.

Ohhhh, to be a fly on the wall when Sentinel wakes up from his super long nap to find out he has a malnourished hybrid granddchild and his sons are deadbeat dads.

[aventurineswife]

Pls I need something parental with Aventurine, Jing yuan and Ratio+ any character of your choice (can't help it you write it so well)

Moments in the Quiet

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Parental/Guardian Relationship, Mentorship, Comforting, Emotional Support, Character Growth, Gentle/Soft Dynamics, Affectionate/Protective Behavior, Platonic Relationship, Wholesome/Heartwarming, Character Development, Lighthearted, Caring/Protective Themes

Warnings: Mild Emotional Tension, Mentorship Dynamics, Emotional Vulnerability.

A/N: hehe thank you 🤧💖🤭

Tagslist: @themiddletenmasibling

The dim lights of the room cast long shadows, and the quiet hum of the city outside was the only sound accompanying the soft clink of a glass. Aventurine sat across from you, his ever-present smile softer tonight, his usual bravado replaced by something quieter, more reflective.

"You know," he mused, his fingers twirling a playing card between his fingers, "life's a game of chance, but having you here... it's the one bet I wouldn't change." He leaned back, his eyes still fixed on the card in his hand but his gaze distant, as if lost in thought.

You couldn't help but notice the faint strain in his voice, something you had never heard before. The man who gambled with the very fabric of his life, who thrived on risks, seemed hesitant. It was almost as if, in this moment, he was more vulnerable than he'd ever let on.

"Do you ever wonder what it's all for?" he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious. He was asking you, yes, but there was more in those words than just curiosity. It was as if he needed an answer, a response that would somehow make the pieces of his chaotic past fall into place.

You hesitated, then answered softly, "For them. For family. For the ones we protect."

Aventurine chuckled softly, but the sound lacked its usual charm. His eyes, sharp and calculating, softened as he met your gaze.

"You're right, of course," he said, setting the card down with a deliberate motion. "But I never realized until now how much of a gamble it truly is. Parenthood. The stakes are higher than any game of chance I’ve ever played. Every decision... a risk."

You reached out, placing your hand over his, offering a silent gesture of support. He flinched for a second, before relaxing under your touch, his smile returning—if only just a little.

"You've already won," you said quietly.

Aventurine looked at you, and for a split second, the mask he wore slipped away. There was something profoundly human beneath all the layers of charm and strategy. A man who had gambled away so much, yet still had the capacity for love and tenderness.

"I suppose, for once, the odds are in my favor," he whispered, his fingers brushing yours in a quiet affirmation. "But I need you to be there. For the moments where the game feels like it’s slipping through my fingers."

The Xianzhou Luofu was peaceful, bathed in the quiet serenity of the stars. Jing Yuan stood on the balcony, looking out over the vast expanse of space, his eyes scanning the horizon. His usual calm demeanor had softened even further in the company of your presence, his shoulders relaxed, the weight of centuries of leadership momentarily forgotten.

"Do you ever feel like everything is too calm?" you asked, standing beside him, your gaze following his as you took in the view.

Jing Yuan smiled, a small, knowing curve of his lips that seemed to carry a deep wisdom. "Peace often feels like an illusion," he said, his voice low, but filled with warmth. "But I prefer it this way. The quiet before the storm is where I thrive."

You chuckled softly, glancing up at him. "The storm of life, you mean."

"Yes," he said, turning his sharp eyes toward you, his expression softening. "The storm of everything—time, battles, responsibilities." He paused, his gaze lingering on you, something almost paternal in the way he looked at you. "But it's moments like these that remind me... we still have control. Even if it’s just for a fleeting second."

You could feel the weight of his words, the gravity of his position in the Xianzhou Alliance, and the toll it must take on him. But in that moment, standing together in the quiet, you realized how much he cherished these peaceful moments, these fragments of normalcy.

"You’ve been leading for so long," you said quietly. "What do you do when you need rest?"

Jing Yuan’s eyes softened. "I rely on those around me. Those who remind me of the simpler things." He placed a hand on your shoulder, a rare display of affection from the usually reserved General. "You, more than anyone, give me the strength to keep going."

The softness in his gaze spoke volumes, and you felt a deep sense of gratitude. Jing Yuan had led with wisdom and foresight for so long, but now, in this peaceful moment, it was your turn to provide him with the comfort and peace he so often gave to others.

Dr. Ratio stood in front of the chalkboard, his eyes gleaming with determination as he lectured you on the nuances of intellect and creativity. His voice, while confident, held a certain warmth that belied the sharpness of his intellect.

"Knowledge is a tool," he explained, his gaze steady as he observed your every reaction. "But it’s the application of that knowledge that separates the merely learned from the truly wise."

You nodded, absorbing every word, knowing that behind his seemingly austere exterior was a man who deeply cared about nurturing your potential. Ratio’s belief in the power of education was as much a part of him as his brilliant mind.

"Your potential is vast," he continued, his tone softer now. "But it takes patience, discipline, and an openness to learning from even the most unexpected sources."

You felt a sense of reassurance in his words. Despite his blunt, sometimes intimidating demeanor, Ratio had a rare ability to make you feel valued and capable. He believed in your potential, and that belief pushed you to aim higher.

"Remember," he said, pausing to look at you with an intense, yet kind gaze, "true wisdom comes not just from knowing things, but from understanding them in ways that others cannot."

With that, he gave a rare, approving smile. You knew that Ratio’s heart was wrapped in his pursuit of knowledge, but beneath his sharp exterior was a mentor who had invested in your growth, both as a student and a person.

"You're doing well," he said, his usual dismissiveness replaced with genuine approval. "Just keep challenging yourself. That is the key to unlocking the future."

[lurkinginnernarrator]

A thought I had, (this isn't a fully thought out meta, just an impression of sorts.)

Something about Wei Wuxian's inherited vengeance.

Where did Wei Wuxian get that vengeance from? Mild-mannered Jiang Fengmian? Benevolent and kind Jiang Yanli? Cangse Sanren, who Wei Wuxian remembers saying something along the lines of remember the good things people do for you not the bad? Wei Changze?

The child of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze would've likely done something along the lines of protecting the common people and fighting for justice during the Sunshot campaign, but did Wei Wuxian do that?

No, I tell you truly, Wei Wuxian is also the child of Yu Ziyuan. Did they have anything resembling a healthy relationship? No. But the child of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze wouldn't slaughter thousands in unholy vengeance. Wouldn't extract oceans of blood for every drop stolen.

But the child of Yu Ziyuan would.

That isn't to say, he's only the child of Yu Ziyuan, no, we see glimpses of the influences of his other parental figures throughout the story.

Look at how he doesn't flinch from leaving the proverbial (paradise) mountain to save the wen remnants (CSSR), look at his compassion for the common people (Jiang Yanli); His sense of loyalty (Wei Changze), level headedness (Jiang Fengmian).

Something about how conscious he is of debt. Does that stem from his inherent preference of righteous action? His desire to do right? Yes. But I wouldn't discount his awareness of debt also coming from a quasi-maternal figure like Yu Ziyuan. Now there is a woman aware of debt, what she owes and what is owed to her.

Everyone is shaped by the adult figures in their life, and we inherit many things from them, such as traumas, perspectives and traits.

I posit Wei Wuxian is no different. But, just like Wei Wuxian, we aren't defined by our parental figures.

[rsdradio]

I’m grateful you’re my daughter/father ❤️

[tabby2344]

[redwayfarers]

out of my depth

wayfarer. mc & amali sero, set post prologue and pre ep 1. gen, 927 words. on importance and access to choices. divider credit

“We can cut it, if you’d like,” Sero suggests. The room is warm; there’s a fireplace and cups of hot tea on Sero’s desk. Yet, the boy sits in one of the grand chairs for guests covered in furs to his chin. They almost miss his response, a slight lifting of his head. “Your hair, Cassander. Have you always worn your hair long?” 

Sometimes, they don’t know what to talk about with him. They can feel him watching and measuring their every word and motion. He probably knows they like to press their cuticles when they’re idle and that they like their meals slightly oversalted. There’s an intelligence behind his red eyes, bright and open and radiant, and they’re certain the kid knows way more than he lets on. 

If he ever does, in reality. Most of the time, Cassander doesn’t speak much. He seems to take forever to answer a question, if only because he’s measuring something in that overfilled brain of his. It’s unsettling, and if Sero was being honest with themself, it makes them question whether he’s a right fit for their apprentice sometimes. 

They’d never say it, though. They’re oddly attached to the unsettling, scrawny elf Cenric dragged from Vodena. Life hasn’t been kind to him there, Cenric said. Be patient with him, Cenric said. And Sero’s heart cracked a little from that walk in the snow, from watching an obviously terrified kid try and put on a brave face for survival, and their mind was made up. 

No kid asks to be hurt by adults. Sero’s doubts shame them. They feel Cassander’s eyes sliding over him, and they ask, gentler, “Have you always had your hair long?” 

“Yes,” he says. He tries to sound as neutral as possible. “For ease of styling.” 

“Ease of styling? From what I’ve seen of Vestra, your hairstyles are anything but easy to do.” Sero reaches out to one of the cups and drinks a sip. “Spire must be a downgrade in that regard.” 

“It is easy to style long hair,” Cassander says. He squirms on his seat. A halo of warm, red curls flies about his face, framed by the fire. Sero imagines they were more defined before winter took its toll on them. “Everyone has long hair.” 

“Not here, though. Some Wayfarers keep it short for practicality. We’re of a wandering sort and hair gets in the way sometimes. That’s why I asked if you would like to wear it short for a while.” 

Cassander shoots his head up and sits a little straighter. Sero almost regrets it; it’s rare to see him relaxed, but this time around, Sero notices, it’s less defensive, held back composure and more curiosity. Like a cat, they think. He schools his face to be neutral but it’s a struggle. His mouth is slightly open, as if to ask something, but he seems to decide against it. His hands grip the big fur coat. 

“It is up to you,” they say. Their heart tightens a little. Their nails click against the clay cup. “I’m not trying to force anything, Cassander. If you want it, it can happen. But if you don’t, there’s no harm done.” 

“That’s possible?” Cassander says, all too quiet, like he’s asking for some sort of permission. Sero is suddenly hit with a gods-awful reminder how young he is; Cenric’s asked around and the kid is ten. Ten years old, on the cusp of eleven, and they’ve seen many ten year olds running around and grabbing the world by the throat. Sero suddenly stands up, like something physically pushes them upward, leaves their cup on the table and walks over to Cassander, mindful of their step. 

Like approaching a spooked cat. 

“Can I hug you?” Sero asks. Their voice feels heavy in their throat. Cassander looks up. There are freckles on his nose and on his neck, faint in the winter. A moment passes, and Sero is just ready to step away, give him space, when he says a small, barely there yes. 

So they kneel a little to be on his eye level and wrap their arms around his small shoulders. He burrows his face against their neck and they feel his breath hitch and then even out. His hands grab Sero’s shirt and he holds tight, as if he wants to get under their skin. And Sero would let him. Part of them wants to card their fingers through his curls. 

“Has your hair ever been your choice?” Sero asks quietly. 

“No,” Cassander responds. 

“From now on, it is,” Sero says with determination. “I can teach you to take care of it. I can teach you to style it. But it is on you how you want to wear it. It’s on your head. The look of your hair is not that big to me as it is for you to become a good Wayfarer.” 

Cassander swallows, thickly. “I–” 

“There’s no need to make your choice now. Think about it. Should you come to any decision, let me know.” 

He simply nods and furrows back into Sero’s embrace. Sero has little heart to let him go just yet. Fire cracks behind them as the wind blows harshly outside. It doesn’t matter though, does it? Sero feels awfully out of their depth, but they know that this kid is theirs. 

Oh how Cenric would laugh if he saw them. Laugh, yes, but also hide a happy little smile that one unfortunate magiani child has found a home in their Order. 

Sero can’t fault him one bit. 

[court-of-secrets]

trying to show something to a friend here

how is your relationship with your parents?

they’re some of my best friends

closer than average

so-so / average

a little distant

strained

bad

no contact / very bad

Voting ended onJul 13, 2025

if you could rb to get this out that would be amazing! you can delete the post after the poll times out :)