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artsydragongal · 8 months

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Crucio (Ominis x GN! reader) HURT/COMFORT

Pairing: Ominis x reader

Warnings: whump, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, alcohol

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: When you get trapped in Salazar Slytherin’s room of torture, Ominis is forced to relive past trauma. Not being able to bear hearing the sound of your screams he insists on taking your place.

Authors note: This is the first fic I actually finished, hope you enjoy it. Might be a one shot, but I’m thinking about continuing the story.

Finally, Ominis turned around to face you. His expression softened, his mask melting away, revealing the hurricane of emotions he was struggling to hold back.

“Please let me do it. I’d rather take the pain that hear you scream. Believe me, you’ll never forget these kinds of screams. I can’t take hearing you suffer. Please, „ he pleaded. It was an impossible choice, but when you looked at him you knew what to do.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Not my first time, remember?”

—

“This is where she died. This is where we’ll die! I shouldn’t have listened to either of you!” Ominis cried out, his voice unusually shrill. While you were searching for comforting things to say, Sebastian, who had been studying the door finally broke his silence. “I’m sorry about your aunt, Ominis. But I know how to get us out of here. It’s going to be difficult,” he murmured absentmindedly. Unlike his friend, the tall brunette did not seem to be bothered by the situation at all, which could only mean he had already come up with a plan.

“What do you mean you know how to get us out of here?” you asked.

“Look around. Tortured faces on the door and ‘Crucio’ etched into the stone. My guess is if we cast the Cruciatus curse the door will open. That’s why Noctua died - she had no one to cast the curse on. Ominis has the most experience with this. He should cast it. You seem to be in Ominis’ favor. Will you ask him about this?”

Knowing how insensitive Sebastian could be, you agreed and carefully approached Ominis, who was still anxiously pacing on the other side of the room. Before you could say anything, he blurted out, “I overheard you and Sebastian, and I won’t do it. The Cruciatus curse is pure torture - I would know.”

“Sebastian told me a little of what happened when you were young. It sounded as if you had no choice,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t mind his friend sharing this with you. You still vividly remembered how badly he reacted to finding out you knew about the Undercroft. To your surprise, this time he didn’t even mention it. If anything, he seemed glad that he didn’t have to explain it to you himself.

“One always has a choice. I’m as guilty as the worst of my family. Unforgivable curses won’t work unless you really mean them. I had to want to cause pain and for that I shall never forgive myself. That spell is the reason I have no family left,” he exclaimed frantically.

“You’re not a bad person, Ominis. I know you. You are good. What happened was not your fault, do you hear me? You have to forgive yourself.”

Ominis misty grey eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t make me do it. I can’t. I won’t,” he whimpered and covered his ears with his hands, as if to block out a noise only he could hear. “I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.”

Shocked by his reaction you immediately started apologizing. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t even have asked. We will figure out another way, I promise,” you assured him, softly placing your hand on his arm. Seeing him this upset rattled you, and you wanted nothing more than give him a hug, but he pulled away and sat down on the floor, cradling his head and rocking back and forth. Unsure what to do you looked at Sebastian for help. He gestured with his head to come to him. You felt awful leaving Ominis like this but obeyed his bidding.

“I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’ from Ominis. It’s up to us then. I can teach you Crucio or I can cast it on you.”

“You know how to cast Crucio? Why did you have me ask Ominis in the first place? You know how badly that spell messed him up!” you snapped at him, pointing at his friend who clearly was not doing well.

“I’m not sure I do. But I think I can cast it if I have to. It sure is a better option than dying in here,” Sebastian replied calmly. His composure was truly remarkable, and you were glad that at least one of you was keeping a cool head. Now it was your turn to do your part. You had already made the decision.

“Alright. But you must cast it. I could never bring myself to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Sebastian nodded and you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to brace yourself for what was coming next. When you opened them again the two of you exchanged a solemn look, and he pulled out his wand. Before he could open his mouth, Ominis had crossed the room, moving with the stealth and swiftness of a cat and grabbed Sebastian’s arm, forcing him to lower his wand.

“Cast it on me,” he demanded, his face an impenetrable mask.

“Ominis, no. He’ll cast it on me,” you protested but the blonde ignored you, standing his ground.

“Didn’t know you’re all so eager to be tortured,” Sebastian remarked dryly.

Finally, Ominis turned around to face you. His expression softened, his mask melting away, revealing the hurricane of emotions he was struggling to hold back. “Please let me do it. I’d rather take the pain that hear you scream. Believe me, you’ll never forget these kinds of screams. I can’t take hearing you suffer. Please, „ he pleaded. It was an impossible choice, but when you looked at him you knew what to do.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Not my first time, remember?”

You recalled what Sebastian had told you earlier regarding Ominis’ experience with the curse. The thought of his family torturing him as a child, made your blood boil with anger, and now he had to go through it again. Everything inside of you was screaming to take his place but you knew how stubborn he could be. You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but closed it again when you caught Sebastian quietly shaking his head to signal you that you should leave it alone. This way Ominis at least had some control over the situation. The tall brunette took the lead, by pointing his wand and preparing himself to cast the spell.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at Ominis grimly.

“I’m ready.”

Sebastian took a deep breath and his eyes darkened.

“Crucio.”

The second the spell hit him, Ominis groaned and doubled over in pain, his body twitching involuntarily as the curse shot through him in a bolt of cackling red light. The door seemed to feed off his pain, absorbing every single drop of it. You watched with tears in your eyes as he fell to his knees screaming out in agony. Ominis had been right. This was awful. The sounds he made vibrated through your entire body, making the hair on your neck stand up in terror. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop it, Sebastian.” you screamed hysterically, your voice breaking but he shook his head again. The door was not open yet. Not knowing what to do you threw yourself on the floor next to Ominis and took his hand, hoping it would give him some sort of comfort. His screaming had died down to a mere whimpering, which for some reason was even worse. You fought the urge to hold your ears to block out the awful sounds coming from the boy on the ground and held his hand even tighter. At last, the door started to melt away, giving way to the room behind it and Sebastian stopped the spell.

Ominis was on his side, his misty eyes staring into nothingness. “Ominis?” you asked carefully but he didn’t react. Sebastian joined you and kneeled next to his other side, checking on his friend. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?” When this too was met with silence you exchanged a worried look with Sebastian. You had both heard the horror stories of people being driven mad by the curse. “Ominis. Say something.” After another 30 seconds that felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth and whispered, “I’m fine.” Slowly, he sat up and a small sob escaped your lips. He was a mess. His face was wet with tears, his hair disheveled and robes covered in dirt. “Don’t scare us like that,” Sebastian grumbled and roughly patted his friend’s shoulder, before getting up and glancing through the doorway. “You have to see this! We made it. We found Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium.”

Still in shock, you watched Sebastian disappear into the other room, leaving you alone with Ominis. For a moment, you sat in silence, both trying to process what just happened. “Are you really alright?” you asked, even though you could already guess the answer. He most definitely did not look okay. In fact, you had never seen him in such a state before. He was there but not really present. The confident, sassy Slytherin you had gotten to know and love was gone, his body an empty shell. It was like he was trapped in his own dimension of hell, having to relive the torture he went through as a child. He flinched when your question brought him back to reality, then slowly turned his head to face you, “Not really. You?” “Not really.”

You fell into each other’s arms, desperately holding on to each other, trying to find comfort in the warmth of the embrace. You felt his body relax against yours and leaned into him, even more. A stifled sob escaped his mouth, and he buried his head in your shoulder. Following his example, you let your tears flow freely. The sound of his screams still rang in your ears. The sheer agony in his voice was the worst thing you’ve ever heard, and you couldn’t stop replaying it in your head. You needed him as much as he needed you. His arms wrapped around you, holding on to you as if you were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

You let your fingers run through his hair and pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo. Your touch seemed to have a calming effect on him, his breathing slowed down and his grip on you weakened. “You’re okay,” you murmured over and over again, like a mantra, unsure if you were saying this to soothe him or yourself. Slowly, the chaos in your head started to ebb down. It was impossible to tell if you stayed like this for minutes or hours but neither of you was ready to let go. Finally, Ominis tightened his grip on you once more before breaking away.

For a moment you looked at each other in awkward silence, both unsure what to say after the intimate moment you had just shared. “Ominis…” you started but he interrupted you. “I don’t want to talk about it. For now, let’s focus on getting out of here.”

With one swift movement he got up and elegantly offered you his hand. A gentleman as always. Glad, that he seemed to be back to his old self again, you let him help you up. After dusting himself off, he took the lead and walked towards the entrance of the scriptorium, with you following close behind. All of a sudden, your gaze fell on the pile of bones in the corner, and you froze. “What’s wrong?” Ominis asked, his voice full of concern. “Your aunt. Her…remains are right behind you.” “Oh.” You guided his hand towards the spot so that he could see it with his wand, watching his face closely for his reaction but he remained expressionless. Then he quietly asked, “Would you mind giving me a minute alone?” It broke your heart how much pain he had to endure in one single night, and you squeezed his arm reassuringly before stepping through the doorway.

When you entered the scriptorium, you were greeted by Sebastian, who seemed to be completely oblivious to what just happened. “What is taking you guys so long? Come take a look at what I found. Slytherin’s spell book. I have only browsed but it looks promising. I think this could be the key to curing Anne.” His eyes sparkled with excitement when he showed you the old dusty tome with Slytherin’s initials on the front.

“That’s great news Sebastian,” you replied, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Of course, you were happy that there was new hope for curing Anne, but the price for this book had been high and Ominis was the one who had had to pay it. Sebastian didn’t notice and enthusiastically continued talking while he showed you around the scriptorium.

“This room is amazing. I could spend hours and hours rummaging through all of these books.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s with the sour face? Ominis is fine, isn’t he?” he grumpily asked, as he turned around to look for his friend, who was nowhere to be seen.

“No. And neither am I. I want to leave. You got what you came here for.” It wasn’t your way to be so cross with him, but you were still on edge and desperately wanted to get away from this place, that was practically vibrating with dark magic.

Sebastian looked at you with a mixture of confusion and defiance. “You can’t be serious? There is still so much to explore.” You let out a deep sigh and prepared to argue, when Ominis appeared at the foot of the stairs, joining in on the conversation. “I agree. Let’s get out of here.” His voice was calm and authoritative, leaving no room for debate. In one hand, he held his wand, the other was clutching a gigantic vase. You furrowed your brows in confusion before you realized what he had been doing while you and Sebastian had been talking. “Is that…?”

“I am going to take her with me. Give her a proper burial.”

Finally, understanding dawned in Sebastian’s face and he gave in, waiting for you to take the vase from Ominis before gesturing to follow him. The exit was hidden in an eerie looking statue of Salazar Slytherin’s face with a snake coming out of its mouth. Sebastian stepped forward and tapped the snake’s head with his wand, causing the statue to rotate and reveal a platform of sorts. “After you.” A few minutes later, when all of you were back in the Slytherin dungeon, Sebastian spoke up. “About your aunt Ominis -”

“Please, Sebastian. All I want is for you to swear never to engage in anything to do with dark magic ever again. You almost got us all killed tonight, with your stupid obsession with the scriptorium.”

“We are so close to curing Anne. I found Slytherin’s spell book in the scriptorium, and I think I saw something that could be useful….”

Ominis face crumpled with pain and disappointment. His best friend truly did not care about anything other than his search for a cure. He turned away from Sebastian, who was still rambling on about some spell he had found. When he noticed that Ominis wasn’t listening he snapped at him, “Why are you not happy for me? I thought you cared about my sister.”

After a long, tiring night, you’d had enough of his selfish behavior and stepped in.

„I know how important finding a cure for Anne is to you, but right now this is about Ominis. We put him through hell tonight, do you understand that? He has every right to be angry at you. You keep putting yourself before everyone else and completely ignore the wreckage you leave in your path.”

Sebastian glared at you, ready to retaliate. “Why isn’t he angry at you then? After all, you convinced him to go in there.”

“I’m sure he is, and he is right to be. Tonight was a mistake. Now take this and find a place to hide it for tonight. It’s the least you can do. Tomorrow we will decide what to do with it. I’m taking Ominis home.” You handed him the vase with Noctua’s remains and held his angry gaze.

“He can find his own way back to the dorms you know. He’s not helpless.”

“Of course he can. I just don’t want him to be alone right now.”

With that you turned around and demonstratively took Ominis hand, interlocking your fingers with his. “Let’s go.” You felt his surprise, but he went along with it and didn’t pull away. Usually, he hated it when people tried to help him in any sort of way, and you almost expected him to snap at you but tonight he was tame as a kitten, letting you lead him down the corridor, away from a fuming Sebastian. He too seemed to be too tired to argue. The sound of your steps echoed through the empty corridors as you walked in silence. When you stopped in front of the entrance of the Slytherin dorms, you waited for him to take charge and decide whether or not he wanted to invite you into their common room. He didn’t let go of your hand when he spoke the password and the gigantic snake revealed the door. After a few seconds of hesitation, he stepped forward, gently pulling you with him and you followed.

You had been here quite a few times with Sebastian, still the elegance and grandeur of the Slytherin common room never ceased to amaze you. The room was filled with eerie greenish light leaking from the windows showing the depths of the black lake. The only sound was the gentle cackle of wood being devoured by the flames. You followed Ominis, or rather let him guide you, to a sofa right in front of the big windows that faced the water. Only then did he let go of your hand and slumped into the soft pillows. You awkwardly waited a few moments before sitting down yourself. Ominis rubbed his face and sighed wearily, “I don’t need you to stand up for me.”

“I know. I just wanted to make it clear to him how wrong his behavior was tonight. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should have never asked you to show us the entrance. This is my fault.”

“I appreciate that. I have already forgiven you. Everybody makes mistakes.”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that Ominis was usually not one to hold back his anger when someone screwed up. His tongue was as sharp as his wits and not something to be messed with, as you knew from firsthand experience. Tonight, he was oddly calm, it was almost unsettling.

“Yeah, but mine almost got us killed.”

“You know me. I’m a thrill seeker,” he replied dryly, making you snort with laughter. Amused by this, Ominis too started giggling and you laughed even harder. It probably was the adrenaline, but you could not stop laughing, both of you cackling hysterically like maniacs. It took you some time to calm down, but the laughter had helped dissolve some of the stress and you felt a little better.

“Glad you have your sense of humor back. Seriously though, are you going to be okay?” you asked solemnly.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you, silly. You have been through a lot tonight.”

“Please don’t. I can’t…I can’t talk about it,” he whispered, and his entire body stiffened. Trying to hide how much this affected him he dug his nails into the palms of his trembling hands and avoided your gaze.

“That’s alright. Just know, if you do need to talk, I’m here for you,” you replied softly and placed a hand on his outstretched leg. By now you understood that physical touch had a calming effect on him. It was odd, since he was a very withdrawn person, not like Sebastian, who was rather touchy and comfortable with physical proximity. Ominis was a proper gentleman, always keeping his distance, never intruding your personal space. Yet tonight he really seemed to need the intimacy of human touch.

“There should be some firewhiskey in the globe behind us, would you mind getting it?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m inviting you to join me for a nightcap.”

“Well, if you put it like that, how could I resist?” you chuckled and got up.

As promised, when you opened the globe, you found an almost full bottle of firewhiskey. You waved the bottle in the air letting the liquid slosh loudly against the glass, to let him know about your find and returned to the sofa, but it was empty. Ominis had made himself comfortable on the floor in front of it, resting his arms on the seat. Following his example, you sat down next to him on the soft carpet and handed him the bottle. He took a deep swig of the bronze liquid and passed it on to you. You took a small sip and coughed, quickly handing it back to Ominis. After another few sips he broke the silence.

“Why are you so kind to me?”

“Because I care about you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

Too tired to talk, you reached for his hand, and he took it. The way his fingers wrapped around yours ever so gently felt like the most natural thing in the world and you felt the urge to never let go of his hand again. For a while you sat in silence, quietly passing the whiskey back and forth, then Ominis spoke up again.

“You know why I like to sit here so much?” He paused for a moment to look at you, waiting for you to meet his gaze. For a moment you got lost in the reflection of the lake in his milky grey eyes. “Because I like the way, the water breaks the light. I can see light and shadow, you know? When I watch the lake, the light is dancing.”

“That sounds beautiful. Tell me about it.”

“It dances with the rhythm of the waves. It’s so soothing it’s like listening to a lullaby. Sometimes, when it’s stormy it gets really fast and erratic, it’s like I can see the thunderstorm.”

Slowly but surely the alcohol was taking effect and he was struggling to stay awake. He rested his head on your shoulder and asked, “Can we just sit here and watch them for a while?“ already starting to slur his words a little.

“Ominis?”

“Mhm?”

“Never scare me like that again.”

Instead of answering he nestled his face into your neck and sighed. You rested your head on his and listened to his breathing slow down as he started to fall asleep, still not letting go of your hand. You smiled at his cute little snores before you too drifted off to sleep.

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artsydragongal · 9 months

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what is this boy doing with his candy

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artsydragongal · 10 months

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For whatever we lose (like a you, or a me)

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)

Pre!Parenthesis Universe

Summary:

“Oh for the love of—” Sebastian cut himself off, quickly drawing his wand from his sleeve and pointing it at your chest. Images danced behind his eyes; Solomon destroying the plant that could have cured Anne; The blurry image of the goblin that had cursed his sister running from the house, cackling in villainous mirth; finding his parents bodies in the cellar, thick plumes of colored toxic smoke spewing from their cauldron. His vision faded to a striking black. White hot pokers stabbed into his temples, and he cast his wand at you in a blind rage. “Crucio!” *** The Scriptorium called your name, and who were you to ignore its song? At least, that’s what you told yourself as Sebastian pushed you and Ominis deeper and deeper into the mausoleum.

Word count: 9k

Tags: arguing, violence, cruciatus curse, dark!sebastian (kind of)

AN: I’m moving all of my fics over from Ao3 to make them more accessible! These are my fics.

Keep reading

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artsydragongal · 11 months

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people's memories of their loved ones who passed on would gradually blur as time goes by. without a refresher, the mind slowly forgets the details of their loved one's face; their eyes start to blur, their nose shape begins to deform, everything felt wrong but you have no way of telling which one is right.

the worst part is, the changes won't be noticeable until there's an active attempt to recall. and all of a sudden you're left with a blurry image of one's face you believe you knew. leaving you with a sense of horror and guilt.

lo'ak dives in under the water, the glow emanating from the spirit tree guides his path, the water pressure no longer foreign as it caresses his azure skin. dread and guilt still fills him as he reaches out to touch, the back of his eyelids slightly burn as he thinks of the multiple times he's heard:

"go visit him. it's been years, son."

well.

lo'ak never was the one that listened.

that was him.

his eyes stung once more as he hesitantly reaches back to grab his queue. his lanky and awkward built now long gone, replaced with a more defined and sturdy form; shaped from the years adapting into the reef's different ways than he's used to.

lo'ak, queue in hand, takes a brief second to gather himself before reaching forward, closing his eyes as the tendrils connect.

------

the tingling cold sensation and sharp texture of the grass beneath his bare feet was surprising but not unwelcomed. lo'ak eyes blink several times to adjust as they look around, finding more green and towering trees than he ever has in the last few years of his life after arriving in awa'atlu. with slow steps, his ears twitch with every sound his steps left, his chest tight from the intense wave of melancholy, his tail hung low as he goes deeper into the forest.

and all of a sudden he felt small again, just like he was six years ago.

and it was raining. why was it raining?

it never rained.

at least, that's what his mom told him. or his dad. or kiri. or tuk.

lo'ak's chest twinges from the thought. why was it raining?

as he walks further and further into the forest, his eyes then catch the small back of familiar na'vi, the braids not lost from his memories, the always present cummerbund wrapped around the na'vi's waist.

the na'vi's a warrior.

the mighty warrior.

lo'ak eyes burn as he takes in the sight, his steps faltering slightly when he tried to walk closer. he felt small again. the way he used to with him. with his brother.

"neteyam," he callled out, the sound of his own voice sounding foreign to him, the name he refused to mention after he passed. saying it again after a long time feels strange, almost similar to the way his stomach lurches as he reconnects with his ikran after being so used to his skimwing.

neteyam's shoulders shook and lo'ak's eyebrows furrow at that. was he laughing? why couldn't he hear a thing? maybe he was too far? deciding that was the cause, his steps brought him closer and closer to the now taller than him neteyam.

"what took you so long, baby bro?"

dread began to fill lo'ak's chest. neteyam was right in front of him but why did his voice sound so far away?

"i- i was preoccupied," lo'ak answered, blinking several times to lose the tears as neteyam's back was blurred on the edges.

"i waited, you know. i wondered, where's my baby bro?" lo'ak ignored how neteyam's voice sounded so far away. as if it was from a far distance. maybe that's how it was. maybe. "but mother said you needed time, so.." neteyam shrugged, his head slightly tilted down.

lo'ak felt droplets of water rolling down his cheeks, whether it were raindrops or his tears, no one will know. he opened his mouth to speak, but there was too much that he wanted to say;

'i can't. i dont deserve to see you. it was my fault. it was my fault you're here. it was my fault you're not with us anymore. it should've been me. why did you do it? why didn't you refuse? why didn't you leave with tuk and tsireya instead? why did you listen to me? nobody did, so why did you?'

lo'ak looked up, neteyam still with his back facing him, he ignored the thought of neteyam feeling repulsed to look at him as he says, "bro i'm so-"

"-stop. it's not your fault."

"yes it was-"

"no. i had every choice to say no." lo'ak started to feel anger bubble inside him, why is neteyam refusing to look at him?

"then why didn't you?!"

"because you're my brother! i want to protect you."

"fucking- say it to my face!"

"i can't."

"why the fuck not?!" lo'ak's voice began to crack, desperation choking his throat as he reaches out to grab neteyam's shoulder and forcefully turn him around and-

lo'ak's heart drops.

the rain grew stronger, the droplets rained over him mercilessly and the last thing he remembered was running away as fast as he can.

running away from the brother he thought he remembered.

------

lo'ak ran again, immediately after he detached from his ilu, his steps rushed and erratic, passing by a concerned tsireya, her voice overpowered by the loud ringing in his ears. he needed- he needed to find his dad. he should be in their marui now. please be there.

he slows down his steps as his dad stepped out from their marui, noticing lo'ak immediately. his ears flatten and his tail flick up in alert before he moves to inspect him.

"what's wrong, boy? are you okay?" his dad asked, still not enough to defeat the insistent ringing in his ears, "what happened-"

"did you bring the family portraits?" he blurted out, the pounding of his heart was loud and fast. his tail hung low between his legs as it swishes rapidly. "with you- dad, is it in the marui?"

his dad's eyes widen slightly in confusion before realization dawned in, his gaze changed from concern to understanding. lo'ak hated it. he doesn't

"did you- yeah i did. come on." lo'ak barely registered the way his dad changed his sentence mid-speaking. he just needed to see the picture. his mind was spinning and bile rose from his throat as he watches his dad rummage through their belongings, cold washes over him once again, the necklace suddenly heavy and suffocating around his neck. the necklace neteyam last wore.

"here."

lo'ak's heart lurched as he hesitantly grabs the portrait, his eyes wide and gaze zeroing in on the figure on farthest left, to the figure right next to him.

"and here's a clearer picture of just you and him." his dad says, placing another portrait on his other hand. lo'ak's eyes move from their family portrait to the other portrait. his breath shaky as he brings it closer to look at it properly.

lo'ak huffed wetly, a droplet or two falling to the ground beneath him as the familiar face once again fresh in his memory. he lets his hands fall as he croaks out, "dad, i- i almost forgot how he looked like."

his dad smiled at him, the sad look etched on his face. he reaches out and places a comforting hand on the side of his head, "visit your brother more often, son. i know it hurts, and i know you refuse to believe it happened, because for a while it was that way for me too." the comforting weight of his hand dissapears briefly before he pulls him gently into a hug, "i know it feels like having a part of you ripped away and you don't want to face it. but you have to. you have to move on. he wouldn't have wanted you to live in constant sorrow and grief," his dad continues, his hand gently stroking his hair, "it doesn't immediately lose the pain but it does make it feel less difficult to heal."

"it was my fault." lo'ak muttered once again, face nestled comfortably against the shoulder of the man he calls his dad after years of mending their slightly fragmented relationship, the sudden loss finally opening their eyes and bringing them together.

the fear of losing another son, the fear of almost losing his father. the shared guilt of believing they have an indirect role in their family's loss brought them closer. mending their father-son relationship.

"it's not. it never was." his dad said, voice slightly cracking too, "none of us think it's your fault. and i'm sure neither does your brother."

they stayed that way for a long time, one seeking comfort as the other provides. lo'ak's arms tighten around his dad as he feels tears still fall from his eyes. "i miss him, dad."

"i know, son. i miss him too."

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artsydragongal · 11 months

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I spooked them akdhwkjdkwje Sidon took out his trident, I was just trying to show you the treasure you told me about, my sweet. Pay attention to your beloved Sidon

I love how Yona is surprised, has no idea where this soggy gremlin came from and Sidon immediately goes into PROTECT MODE 😭 I love them all so much

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artsydragongal · 11 months

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MINOR TOTK SPOILER

You have been warned

....

WHY IS THERE A FREAKIN COLGERA IN THE DEPTHS?!?!?!?

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artsydragongal · 1 year

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Reflections

Lo’ak x Dad!Jake

based on this request, I hope this is close to what you wanted!

Warnings: so much fluff, Jake is a GOOD DAD goddamn it

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri says desperately. “My ears are bleeding.”

He turns from where he’s knelt beside the smaller bed in their tent. One hand is stuck beneath Neteyam’s tiny fingers, clutching onto him so tightly though he’s already fast asleep. The other rests on Kiri’s head, smoothing down wild hair as he tucks them both in for the night.

Neytiri is across the room, bouncing on the balls of her feet, a screaming Lo’ak wrapped snuggly against her chest.

A heavy sigh falls from Jake’s lips, brows furrowing with concern. The kid hasn’t stopped crying since he was born several months ago. No matter what they do, he isn’t happy. And they’ve tried it all. They’re close to losing what remains of their sanity, from lack of sleep and the constant droll of high pitched crying.

He rises slowly, peeling his hands free and planting gentle kisses on the foreheads of his two oldest children. He crosses the tent, palms smoothing down his mate’s arms soothingly.

“Want me to try, honey?”

“Please.” She nods tiredly, a relieved sigh dropping her shoulders.

Admittedly, Jake doesn’t have the best record when it comes to this side of parenting. Hunting, fishing, even playing, that he can do. He thrives in the lighthearted moments, loves chasing around his rambunctious toddlers.

But this, when they’re crying, it splinters his heart. Sits in his stomach like heavy stones. He can’t bear to hear his children’s sorrow, so Neytiri has handled it for the most part.

But Lo’ak is different. He’s so much fussier than the first two. Cries nonstop if he’s awake. They’ve even asked Mo’at for advice, afraid something’s wrong with the kid, but she said he simply needs more love.

Jake delicately scoops him up from the pouch at Neytiri’s chest. He gently lays Lo’ak against his shoulder, beginning to bounce the same way he’s seen her do to calm Neteyam and Kiri. One of his large hands pats the infants back, and within seconds, he settles.

Neytiri’s eyes blow wide with surprise, a grin slowly pulling at her lips. Jake’s brows raise as if to say wow, that really worked? Silence blankets the Sully family tent for the first time in weeks, and both parents release a breath of relief.

“That one is yours.” Neytiri declares, only half joking, before making her way to their shared bed.

Little did they both know, this pattern would become the new normal for the next several years.

When Lo’ak took his first steps, it was Jake he stumbled toward. Dada was the first word to fall from his lips. When he began playing, it was Jake he wanted, his little brows pinching in anger if his siblings even dared try to butt in.

Every bump, bruise, or fight with his siblings, only Jake could soothe him. Neytiri tried many times, but he’d only cry harder, thrashing in her arms and demanding his dad instead.

Jake, though always affectionate with simple touches, has never been a huge fan of cuddling. He’s a man who likes his space, but when it comes to his youngest son, he can never find it within his heart to say no.

Lo’ak is always on him. Balancing on his shoulders, hanging from his back, wrapping himself around one of his legs. Jake lets him do it, for some reason not bothered by the usual overstimulation of constant attention.

On the rare occasion Lo’ak is sick, Jake doesn’t even try to leave the tent. He has men lined up to take over his duties for however long his son needs him. He doesn’t hesitate, scooping Lo’ak up in his arms and tucking into bed with him to sleep off whatever’s in his system.

At the age of three, he carved his own action figures from a fallen piece of wood. He said it was his family, yet there were only two. One for him, and the other for Jake.

It was clear early on that his dad was his hero. He revered him like he was Eywa reincarnate, like he could do no wrong. Even when he did.

“You have got to be kidding!” Neytiri’s angry voice booms in the quiet tent.

“I know, sweetheart, I know—” Jake’s ears flatten against his head, arms outstretched in a gesture of surrender.

She hisses pointedly, lifting Lo’ak’s arm again to inspect the short scratch down his bicep.

“I’m fine.” He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, a dramatic sigh leaving his lips.

“He is too young!” Neytiri looks away from the injury to glare at her husband.

Lo’ak’s face scrunches with irritation as he jerks his arm free. He holds it against his chest, the sharp pain hard to ignore. But he puts on a brave face, just like Jake taught him. He may only be five years old, but he’s already certain he wants to be just like his dad, which means showing no weakness.

“I’m not a baby! I’m a warrior like dad!” Neytiri's narrowed eyes cut to him at his raised tone, and he drops his chin.

“Hey, hey.” Jake coos gently, bending down to his height. He grips his shoulders lightly and turns him so he can catch his eyes. “We don’t talk to your mother like that, remember? Why don’t you go see your grandmother and get patched up? Yeah?”

Lo’ak’s lips push into a defiant pout, but he begrudgingly obeys, stomping his way out of the family tent. Jake watches him disappear with a frown, knowing he pushed things too far. It’s hard not to, when he sees so much of himself in his youngest son.

He recognizes the stubbornness, the recklessness that’s already gotten him into trouble at his young age. He's a reflection of himself, and it's gut-wrenching. He wants nothing more than to prepare him for the harsh reality of Pandora. He wants Lo’ak to ease into adulthood, an opportunity he was never afforded.

His worry, the apprehension he feels at every misstep, every mistake Lo’ak makes manifests into harsh words and raised voices. He’s too hard on him, but he can’t help it, only realizing when it’s too late the damage he’s done.

“You could you be so careless?” Jake yells angrily, finger pointing right in his son’s face.

Lo’ak curls inward, already familiar with this pattern. He does something wrong, and his dad flips his lid. Even if his siblings were a part of it, he’s the only one who suffers the blame.

He’s the black sheep, the screwup, the outsider within his own family. And he knows it already at the age of ten.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters the words though clenched teeth, bitterness raging in his chest.

It was an honest mistake. He didn’t intend to be out so late, to venture so far away from home. And he really didn’t expect Kiri to follow him, only showing herself when it was well past curfew.

“Yeah, I bet you are. You could’ve gotten your sister hurt, know that? You’re grounded. For a month.”

He nods in understanding, chin wobbling as he desperately tries to contain rising emotion. He wants to scream, to shout what about me? But he remains silent. The ever so stoic Lo’ak already in full force.

It only gets worse as the years tick by.

Jake finds it nearly impossible to see past their similarities. It makes him mean, cruel even when he knows he should be soft. He never thought he’d be in a position like this, watching a younger version of himself make the same mistakes time and time again.

The tension rears it’s ugly head when Lo’ak makes his first attempt at taming an Ikran. Jake watches anxiously, chest tight with emotion as his son flounders. He struggles to subdue the animal for several long minutes while his family watches with baited breath.

Jake attempts to intervene, but Neytiri won’t let him, explaining that the danger is something he must face, must conquer if he wants to be a warrior. He ends up failing, unable to make tsaheylu, and tumbles over the side of the hallelujah mountains.

Jake’s heart nearly bursts from his chest at the sight. He’s over the edge in an instant, not a care in the world if he gets hurt too. Luckily, Lo’ak survived with minimal injuries. Back in the Tsahik tent, Jake never leaves his side. Not even after he wakes up a day later.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Are the first words he croaks, hot moisture welling in his eyes. He’s scared, no, terrified that he’s disappointed his hero.

Jake’s face screws with emotion, hand smoothing down his son’s face comfortingly. He blinks away tears of his own, simply happy that Lo’ak is conscious.

“Just get some rest, boy.” Is all he says.

He realizes, much too late, that it wasn’t enough. That Lo’ak needed reassurance. He hasn’t gotten better at this part of parenting, at processing emotions and using his words. He much prefers to show his children how much he loves them. It’s what he’s good at. This…not so much.

Tension steadily rises, until it reaches a breaking point several years later.

“I can’t believe you!” Jake roars, furious with Lo’ak and his continued antics.

Lo’ak’s jaw clenches, nostrils flaring as he prepares to take the brunt of his dads wrath once again.

“Sir, it was all my fault.” Neteyam steps in front of him, arms outstretched.

“No, you’ve got to stop taking the heat for this knucklehead!” Jake shakes his head, icy glare looking straight past his oldest child. “You deliberately disobeyed orders!”

Neteyam lets out a deep sigh and returns to his position beside Lo’ak, head dropping to his chest. He knows arguing is no use when his dad gets like this. All they can do is grit and bare it, and hope it’ll be over sooner rather than later.

“I was just—” Lo’ak tries to defend himself, voice small.

“I don’t care what you tried to do! What you almost did was get your brother killed!”

Lo’ak seethes silently, too aware of the fact that no matter what he does, it won’t be enough. He wanted to impress his dad, show him that he can be as fierce a warrior as Neteyam. He’d only planned on dropping into enemy territory for a second, just long enough to grab some weapons and head home.

But, like most of his earnest attempts at shrinking the wedge between them, he’d failed.

When Jake is finished, Lo’ak stomps away, fists clenched tightly at his sides. He doesn’t stop until he finds a secluded part of the forest. Despite the fact that eclipse is in full effect, and completely ignoring the steady patter of rainfall, he sits outside for several hours.

He barely moves once, knees pulled tightly against his chest as he simply thinks. He ponders where it all went wrong, when his hero turned into this beast that’s never satisfied.

He doesn’t even realize he’s shivering. Not until Neteyam finds him, strong arm wrapping around his shoulders in silent comfort. His older brother guides him home, whispering words of encouragement the whole way.

Lo’ak doesn’t leave his bed the next day. It’s Tuk that notices first, surprised by his absence when their family gathers for the first meal of the day. Neytiri quickly checks on him, lips pulling into a frown at his state.

He’s wrapped in his blankets, trembling despite the heat. His forehead is covered in a cold sweat, skin hot to the touch. She immediately calls for her mother, who assures it’s only a mild cold. There’s nothing they can do but wait it out.

It eats at Jake, as he finds excuse after excuse to stay near the tent throughout the day. He keeps poking his head through the entrance, simply to confirm the slow rise and fall of Lo’ak’s chest as he sleeps.

His stomach twists with regret, knowing his words had upset his son to the point of sitting out in the rain. Lo’ak made himself sick over the harsh words he’d spoken out of anger. He’s anxious all day, knowing he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to his youngest boy.

Finally, as the sun gradually disappears behind the moon, he can’t take it any longer. He abandons his duties for the evening and makes his way home. His eyes instantly find Lo’ak, still curled in on himself on his bed.

Jake drops his gear at the door, padding toward his trembling figure. He kneels beside the woven mat, and Lo’ak rouses, bleary eyes squinting up at him in question.

“What—what are you…?”

Jake shushes him gently, running a soothing line down his temple. He’s cooled off significantly, but still feels a bit warm.

“I’m sorry, son.” He whispers, heart clenching in his chest.

Lo’ak’s eyes blow wide, having rarely heard his dad utter those words. Before he can fully react to the sudden display of emotion, Jake gently peels the blanket from his shoulders. He motions for Lo’ak to scoot over, which he does without hesitation.

Despite his lingering hurt and anger, he can’t deny that he just wants his dad. Truthfully, nothing has changed since he was a child. By now he’s learned to control his feelings, to hide any inkling of sadness about the growing distance between them, but it hasn't stopped the earning for his first and strongest protector.

Jake slides into the bed, propping himself up against the wall. Lo’ak breathes a sigh of relief, instantly cuddling into him. He rests his head on Jake’s chest with the help of a gentle guiding hand. They settle into a comfortable silence, both feeling at ease for the first time in years.

“I see you, son. You know that right?” Jake’s voice is low in the otherwise quiet tent.

A genuine smile splits Lo’ak’s face as he drifts into a peaceful sleep, finally having the one thing he truly needed to get better.

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artsydragongal · 1 year

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The next right thing

(click for better quality)

so watched Frozen 2 again and this song just made me think of how Lo'ak is possibly feeling and so I-oops and made myself cry drawing this but who doesn't love some sweet sweet angst

Fr tho Lo'ak putting his hand on Neteyams head and reaching for him as he was buried is fucking heartbreaking 💔

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artsydragongal · 1 year

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A new look

In an angsty mood so decided to draw Lo'ak wearing Neteyams smaller choker, also hair down cuz honestly he looks so pretty with hair down and I would not be too surprised if Lo'ak decided to just keep his braids down. He also still wears his Ikran claw but under the choker now

#avatar #avatar twow #avatar 2 spoilers #avatar the way of water #avatar fanart #artstdragongal #avatar 2 #myart #my art #lo'ak #neteyam #lo'ak imagine #avatar 2 fanart #angst

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artsydragongal · 1 year

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Did my best,I freestyled some things lol

Timelapse

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artsydragongal · 1 year

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Romantic flight?

Look i know this is major Httyd vibes but if Tsireya can take Lo'ak riding on a Ilu. I see no reason why he can't do the same with his Ikran 😊. Imagine the view of the sea snd reef at eclipse from the sky 😍😍

(Tumblr doesn't like high res soo....click for better quality)

Honestly i love these two and am so excited to see how thier relationship will play out!

Also forgive me if Lo'aks Ikran is not correct we hardly see it and all i got was blue and purple and a book said yellow accents 😅😂

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artsydragongal · 1 year

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Happy Holidays!

Been obsessed with these two!

No idea for this other than Jake or the good humans on Pandora found or brought

some christmas hats and Lo'ak is not amused 🤣

I am doing just fine after watching Avatar 2 and am not at all in denial. Why do you ask?

#avatar twow #avatar 2 spoilers #avatar the way of water #avatar fanart #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam #lo'ak #lo'ak sully #neteyam sully #artstdragongal

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artsydragongal · 1 year

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Scraped Knee

→˚₊· :🐚: ੭*

written by cinnamondumbb ♡

in which Lo'ak first communes with Neteyam at the Spirit Tree after his passing.

where Tsireya and Payakan are there for Lo'ak when he needs them most.

author's note: i haven't written anything in a rly long time, i know i'm a little rusty and maybe this piece is absolute shit, but i'm practicing to get better ! constructive criticism is always welcome :) thank you soso much for taking the time to read my work, it means a lot to me <3

word count: 1,809

───────── ✦ ─────────

Almost two years had gone by since his brother's death. Almost two years since Lo'ak could not save him.

The Sully boy shifted in his slumber, his thoughts too dark, his heart too heavy to allow him to rest. Giving up on the idea of sleeping altogether, Lo'ak got up before sunrise, sneaking out of his pod, being careful not to startle his family. It would be best to not be there when they all woke up, anyway. He could not stand to be there with them, that day of all days.

After calling for his ilu, Lo'ak dived in the water without making a sound, a skill he had mastered with his time amongst the Metkayina.

Diving always helped pacifying his troubled mind. It made him forget about everything above the surface, concentrating only on his breathing, his surroundings, the flow of energy in and out of him — just like Tsireya had taught him. The boy was able to find peace within, even if only for a short while.

Finding Payakan was a rather easy task. Crossing the reefs to meet his spirit brother had become part of Lo'ak's routine by now. He had grown so used to the path that he did not need to think about where he was going, his ilu would simply take him there.

Payakan rejoiced at the sight of his brother, picking him up with his fin and bringing him closer.

He knew what that day meant to Lo'ak.

"I See you, brother", Was all that Payakan said.

"I See you", Lo'ak signed in response.

Neither of them said anything else, being together in silence was enough. The boy laid down on the tulkun's back, gazing at the stars, his mind lost else where.

Lo'ak did not know how long it had been since he left the village, or for how long he had laid in the dark ocean with his thoughts, all he knew was that the sun was already in the sky when she arrived.

She moved so gracefully in the water towards him. The bottom half of her face was hidden in the water, but he could tell by her eyes that she was smiling. Lo'ak knew that she was insecure about her smile, it was 'too full of teeth', according to her. He disagreed, he could not think of a smile he'd rather see.

However, her pretty smile faded as soon as she saw the grim expression plastered on the Sully boy's face. She rushed to him, greeting Payakan before the tulkun helped her up his back, while Lo'ak sat up straight.

However, the boy's gaze was still lost in someplace else.

Tsireya did not speak immediately. She was not sure of what was going on, what pained him so on that morning. Gently, she reached for his face. He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into her touch.

"Happy Birthday, Lo'ak", Tsireya wished, brushing her thumb across the omatikayan's cheek. "What is wrong?"

Lo'ak could feel his throat tighten as well as his eyes starting to burn. He did not wish cry, especially not in front of Tsireya. He reached for her other hand, holding it close to his chest, which was growing heavy as breathing became more and more difficult. All he could think was that he did not deserve this, he did not deserve her, he did not deserve anything.

"Breath." Tsireya made him look at her at last, his eyes were full of the tears he refused to shed. "Just breath."

"How did you know I was going to be here?", Lo'ak voiced his curiosity once he had gotten his breathing under control.

"Well, it was not hard to guess", That made him smile, only a little "Your family is looking for you. I thought I'd come here and catch you."

"Catch? Don't you mean fetch?" Lo'ak never missed the opportunity to tease her, it did not matter how somber his mood was.

"Tsk, I can catch and fetch you like fish if I want to!" Now Lo'ak was laughing wholeheartedly as he looked at his enfuriated girlfriend trying to hit him playfully, and struggling with it.

He held her arms as she wiggled and laughed trying to get away from his grip. Payakan suddenly shifted under them, making Tsireya almost slip into the water, but Lo'ak took hold of her before she could fall, bringing her into his arms again, her back resting against his chest. He could feel a part of the tension leave his body. It felt good to be able to just laugh and be silly with his girl.

Her tone was serious when she spoke again, after they had caught their breaths and their laughs faded, enjoying a comfortable silence for a little while.

"Lo'ak, what is wrong? Today is a happy day, you are fifteen! You begin training for iknimaya, you earn your place with the people."

"Yes, and I'll help you through everything!" Payakan added, in an attempt to cheer the boy up.

Of course Lo'ak knew all that. Theoretically, he was fully grown now, and ready to start the many coming-of-age rituals of the Metkayina.

"I know, I know, guys. I'll get to bond with a tsurak, earn my first tattoo--"

"Exactly! Are you not excited? Oh, are you scared? That's okay-"

"No, it's not that" Lo'ak scoffed "It's not the iknimaya that scares me" He felt choked up again. He was grateful neither Tsireya nor Payakan could see his face. He pulled Tsireya closer, placing his chin on top of her shoulder, building up the courage to finally voice what had been afflicting him. "I'm scared of what this means, I'm scared of becoming-" He could feel tears running down his cheeks as he tried his best to push them back. "of becoming older than my older brother."

"Oh, Lo'ak..." Payakan hurt for his spirit brother.

Now, that the words were finally out there, Lo'ak felt an empty feeling settle inside of him.

Tsireya turned to face him, her eyes full with tears as well. She held his face between in her hands, pulling him closer till their foreheads met. Lo'ak weeped quietly know, his tears landing softly on Tsireya's cheeks.

They stood like that for a while, eyes closed, breaths intertwined. Lo'ak thought about his family. Would they really like to celebrate his birthday? Or would they keep thinking the same that he was thinking? That his older brother would never reach the age of fifteen, that he was taken from them too soon, that Lo'ak should have been gone, and not him.

Tsireya lifted his chin, locking eyes with him, all she said was:

"Come with me."

───────── ✦ ─────────

Payakan swam with them nearly all the way, only stopping at the entrance of the Cove of the Ancestors. Then, it was best to go by ilu.

It took more very little convincing from Tsireya to Lo'ak agree to it. Communing with him for the first since what happened. It had been almost two years and he was not even able to say his name, or talk about the occurred.

Of course, it was not the first time Tsireya, or a member of his family, attempted to take him there. Lo'ak was the only one who refused to go. After the funeral, his mother would meet her eldest son in the Spirit Tree nearly every day. Now, the visits were held every month with the entire family. Except for Lo'ak.

But today was different. More than ever, Lo'ak felt the need of his older brother's guidance.

Tsireya was there with him, something he was very grateful for. She demonstrated how to do it, Lo'ak followed her lead, taking his queue and connecting it to one of the strange seaweed-like leaves of the Spirit Tree.

"Stay calm.", she signed to him underwater, and so he did.

He slowed his own heartbeat, calming himself down, before closing his eyes.

Lo'ak woke up in the forest that was once his home. Everything was so familiar to him still, the sound of the animals, of waterfalls, approaching footsteps-

His approaching footsteps.

"Lo'ak! I'm back with the kit-"

Just like that, there he was, a younger version of him, but still his brother, nonetheless. Not in his mind tormenting his thoughts, nor in his nightmares, where Lo'ak witnessed his death over and over again, unable to save him.

He was right there.

Neteyam.

Neteyam kneeled beside his younger brother, who finally took a look at himself. He felt smaller, sitting on the grass floor of the forest, with his old clothes on. His face was wet with tears from a stinging pain on his knee. Lo'ak was slowly understanding. This was a memory.

"-I told you not to climb that damn tree without me, skxawng."

"I know, I'm sorry." Lo'ak could only giggle at Neteyam's reaction. God, he had missed it. He remembered it now, climbing that tall tree after his brother cautioned him about it. He remembered falling, scraping his knee, Neteyam rushing to get a first aid kit without anyone noticing, not wanting for Lo'ak to get in trouble by getting their parents involved.

"It's okay, baby bro, I'm going to get you patched up" Neteyam started gently cleaning his brother's knee with a gaze. He already acted with such responsibility for his early age, a true son of toruk makto. The son Lo'ak never was. "C'mon, bro, stop crying, it's just a scraped knee"

"Sorry, it just- it hurts so much, Neteyam" Lo'ak was not speaking of his knee, but his brother did not know.

"I know, Lo'ak, but all wounds heal with time" He said without taking his eyes off of Lo'ak's knee, too concentrated in applying the medicine, then a cotton patch.

"All wounds?" Lo'ak could feel all the hope in his words as he looked up at his older brother.

"Yes, all wounds! Sure, it hurts now and, shit, it's going to sting for a couple of days, but soon enough the pain will go away."

"You promise?"

"Yes, brother! Now, c'mon, dad promised to take us hunting today!"

"I remember that!" Lo'ak chuckled between hiccups as the memory came back to him. Riding with his father and brother on ikran, hunting and camping together. At night, their father shared tales of his old life on earth by the campfire. He remembered thinking that was a perfect day. Lo'ak could not think of a better day to be with Neteyam.

The eldest Sully boy helped his brother up, making sure he could stand on his own before letting go of him.

Lo'ak had fully stopped crying now, his heart felt lighter than ever.

"You should go ahead, Neteyam, get our stuff ready. I'll be there soon."

"Alright, baby bro, I'll be waiting for you."

Neteyam smiled back at him, before disappearing into the forest.

"Til I see you again, big brother."

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