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avatarkv · 10 months

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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (1)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc; 3104)

Jake knew a saying; held onto it ever since he had resided amongst Na’vi– every person is born twice. While he believed that it meant that the second time is when you earn your place here in Pandora, Eywa had a clever way of broadening the idea. His very children were proof of it.

He thinks it’s the great mother’s way of compensation, perhaps a second chance for him to do better– to do his very best to keep them alive on behalf of those he lost.

While Kiri was a special case enough, you too were an odd one.

You are Tsu’tey's daughter. Turns out, he had someone in secret while he trained to become olo’eyktan– when he was supposed to take Neytiri for himself. It was taboo– absolutely wrong to become unfaithful to one’s mate. But following the carnage of the great war, when Tsu’tey had so selflessly sacrificed his life, only then did Tsi’ewa came forward; told everyone of their love and what could have been. She was a simple songstress along Ninat, but it was her round and bulging belly that caught everyone’s attention.

It caused an uproar and understandably so. After all, Neytiri had only announced her rebellion with Jake not long before, but when the people connected the dots themselves and both stories had become one, they understood that their hearts merely yearned for another and no one should have ever dictated otherwise. Arrangements had been made and condolences were exchanged— everyone can only look back and wish that things could have been different.

Jake was supposed to take you under his wing as a way of honoring him– he owed Tsu’tey his life and perhaps an apology as big as so. But after your mother had unfortunately died during your birth, he knew to himself that he had to take you in; not as a responsibility, but as his own blood and flesh. His first daughter.

You were the loudest baby, he recalled. That day, Jake had rocked your body back and forth in his arms frantically, while Mo’at and Neytiri did everything within their power to help Tsì'ewa. Your cries were ear-splitting, enough to wake the whole clan up.

“Just what do I do with you,” He muttered under his breath, eyebrows knitted in frustration– just where do he hold you? Is he doing it right? Are you hurt? Why are you crying so loud?

“Jake, the baby!” Neytiri’s shout from inside had cut his train of loud thoughts, snapping back to your bawling. He wasn’t doing such a good job.

“I’m trying, Neytiri– this thing won’t budge.”

Neytiri had emerged from the hut, stomping her way to Jake with a scowl. "That is not a thing, you skxawng!" she exclaimed before gently scooping you up from his arms, cooing softly to you– though it was more like mocking him instead. “Does Jake here make you cry?” She said, patting your thigh soothingly. “He’s not at all pleasant to look at, but you have to get used to it.”

Almost in an instant, your cries had died down. You babbled along with her, like you were agreeing with her every word. He slowly pulled himself closer to Neytiri, eyes wide with curiosity as he watched your small hands playing with her long braids. “Heh, she has Tsu’tey’s eyes,” He whispers, unable to look away.

The flap of the hut swinging open was the only thing that got their attention, momentarily away from yours as they looked at Mo’at with anticipation. With a single shake of her head, sorrow surged their hearts, eyes traveling back to your innocent ones. They mourned for you; an unknowing child should never have to carry such grief. They had to make a choice– A responsibility they weren’t expecting to have so early.

Jake mindlessly trails his finger down your stomach, gently, like you were the most fragile thing. Your little hand wraps around it and it was like you had binded his scattered thoughts into one big understanding.

Sully. You’re one of them now.

Jake releases a breathless chuckle as he gazes upon his lover and you with a newfound clarity, a perspective so bright it illuminated in his very eyes. Then came an idea– the desire of having children of their own. Perhaps that’s why Neteyam came after only two years. You were quite the ploy; the push they needed to start a family.

You were truly blessed– the genius of your age was undeniable, your remarkable talent soon earning you the admiration of all who had seen it. By the time you turned six, you had already mastered many of the abilities that a hunter would need– your skills with a bow were unrivaled by most of the children your age, let alone those who were much older than you. They'd marvel at your accuracy each time you took aim with an arrow. You could never miss. You had to make sure you didn’t.

By the age of 12, you had already accompanied Jake in hunts. You had developed a knack for planning, coming up with routes and back-up plans that were often surprisingly effective. You have proved to be helpful plenty of times. You were quick, silent– full of poise. They often wondered if you were an old, seasoned soul trapped inside a little girl’s body.

But as quickly as the spotlight had shone down on you, it left almost as soon as it had come.

(“What you did today was reckless, y/n.” Jake settles his bow on the table aggressively, emitting a sharp thud. You were just as frustrated, throwing your satchel down the floor of the hut.

The mission had gone rather wildly, with things not going along the plan. There was another airship– one that no one was aware of. Your instincts jolted your body, immediately throwing an explosive towards it which had it blowing all over the place– its pieces crashing and causing a wildfire.

Jake argued that there could’ve been a more safer way. One that didn’t have to risk more of our resources and supplies; one that didn’t have to injure the other warriors. Of course you knew to yourself that you did the right thing. You did what you had to do.

‘You could’ve been hurt and got others killed! Just what were you thinking?” He continued to berate you. You jest that if this went on, there’d be steam visible above his already heated head.

“I had to take a risk– not everything goes to plan and this is proof of it.” You answered back with a scowl, “If I hadn't, there would’ve been more casualties.”

“That’s not a call for you to answer to! Jesus Christ,” Jake runs his palms down his face, grunting, before looking back at you– expression suddenly tired and soft. “Come on kid, where’s that sweetheart who always listened to what I said?”

You had scoffed, a hurt forming on the pits of your stomach. “That sweetheart once had a place in plans before.” You said, eyes unwilling to look at him. It weighed in your heart heavily– why did people assume that you were the only one who changed? You didn’t understand. “Pretty sure the Jake before was a good listener too.”

The wrinkle in between his eyebrows deepened in confusion, but he never was one for confrontation. With a single dismissive grunt, he turns his back against you. “I’m way past your attitude. You’re grounded. Go.”)

As you grew, the resemblance to your father became ever more apparent. Jake started noticing the many similarities between the two of you; the way you walked– how you sauntered confidently through a crowd. Your braids would move along your heavy steps (and perhaps, that’s where Neteyam got his mannerism of swaying his too.), shoulders wide and proud. You even had his signature snarl, something Tsu’tey was known for that unfortunately seemed to have been passed down to you too.

However, it was more than how you brought yourself. You were strong-willed– stubborn.

There was another thing about you too. You didn’t call Jake dad anymore. It hurt him– left a heavy feeling on his chest every time you regarded him so distant. It was unfair that you still called Neytiri mom, why did it have to change with him? He didn’t have the heart to address it. Couldn’t ask you what went wrong.

Because he knows damn well why.

Lo’ak was enough of a headache, but you were a different kind of royal pain in the ass, more like a personal problem. It was tiresome. Petty. There was not a day that you and Jake wouldn’t argue and bite each other’s ass off– and yet, there was never a day where you two would talk it out. The fights would blur itselves out and before they knew it, things would be back to normal, only for it to fall out again over something small. It was routine. The only thing normal for you both.

He missed you– missed his baby. Just when did you grow to become so distant? When did he start to overlook you?

You’ll admit, you might have indulged in the folk’s gossip. They always had a story for everything and they have plenty about your father. Tsu’tey was a fit olo’eyktan. He had proved so in his training and determination. Of course it was a low punch in the gut when the throne had been passed to an outsider– a demon, most of all. It was unfair, he knew it wasn’t right. A washed up marine had taken something he had worked for like it was nothing. Like he was nothing.

You pitied your father and you feared you’d be like him– like nothing.

And history might just repeat itself. You weren’t clueless– wasn’t blind to the fact that Jake had trained your brother more. He adored him so much that the very moment he was in the right age to train, you were off to fend for yourself; trained all alone while Jake went over the routine with Neteyam like he did with you. You remembered waiting for him every afternoon because he promised that he’d make time– that time was yours and yours only. But as the light bled and neared eclipse and you were too cold to wait outside, you learned never to wait again.

They would come home soon after– smiles on their faces and a handful of apologies for you.

Soon enough, your suspicions proved you right as the people started to talk again; Neteyam– the golden child. He would make a good olo’eyktan.

Perhaps that would explain the drift between you and Neteyam too. Could they blame you for it? You had lost their attention so early– while you still needed them. You weren’t their kid and you were reminded of it everyday. In times when you didn’t know if you had space in the family hammock while they sat together, telling stories under the starry sky. You pretended to have fallen asleep everytime; back against them as you listened. In times where the family was growing and growing, until the small table wasn’t big enough for everyone anymore– or in this case, for you.

(“Come on, ma’ite, what are you doing so far from here?” Neytiri had called for you when she noticed how distant you were from everyone. You silently scooted beside her, wooden bowl in your lap. “Look, I prepared your favorite.”

It wasn’t. You hated it. You hated the tangy taste of it so badly. But you had decided to eat what was left on the table after everyone had gotten their meals and there wasn’t usually enough for you. Neytiri thought nothing of that– didn’t think that you eating only scraps and dried fruit was because there wasn’t anything else for you to have. She simply thought that it was your favorite and had been making it for you ever since.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not when she thought she had been doing well with preparing it. You kissed your teeth, smiling tightly as you lifted the food to your lips, eating silently. “Thank you, it’s good.” You muttered under your breath after.)

But you were family; they said so themselves. When they tucked you in to sleep, when they patted your head. They were still present now, just not in the way you wanted– not in the way you longed for. It seemed like making them angry was the only way you could have their attention– particularly, your dad. You could never make Neytiri mad. She tries to understand you, she does. Explaining now just seems so.. Petty. So childish, you decided to push her away instead.

What do you tell her? That you only let dad blow a fuse or two was because you missed him? Because you didn’t know what went wrong?

So there goes your routine.

“I just don’t understand why I can’t be olo’eykte.” You had brought up again, lips in a familiar snarl. “You tire me and for what? Kiri is already training to be Tsahik– just what would my place in this clan be?”

“We are not having this conversation again, y/n. Not tonight.”

Jake had just returned from a particularly bad hunt; went home empty-handed and with a patience as thin as a strand of hair. He continued to sharpen his dagger, movements almost aggressive. Everyone immediately went out of his way, not wanting to be on the end of his temper– not you though. You could never get a hint, it seems.

“Yes, tonight! My ceremony is almost near, sir. I have been waiting.”

It wasn’t like he had a reason anyway. Jake couldn’t tell you because he had no reason as to why. Why couldn’t you be olo’eykte? You had all the skills to be one, even more so. But in the back of his mind, a thought so deep and petty that he couldn’t bear to say, tells him that the name he carried was something to gift his eldest son. Olo’eyktan was a privilege reserved for Neteyam. He never thought to have you so early– he always dreamed of having a son first.

“Wait more.”

“This is insane– sa’nok!” You had turned to Neytiri, eyes pleading. She quickly grasps your arm and tries to tug you back towards the exit, speaking in a soft but firm voice as she tries to soothe the tension.

“Ma’ite, why don’t we go out for a walk?” She whispers. To be frank, she was tired of this– never of you, no. But at the way things had been. Parents aren’t parents automatically just because they have had children of their own. It’s a skill they have yet to muster– to truly understand. She didn’t know where the line between you and her had blurry along the years. Didn’t know where this constant need of yours to be seen came from.

You jerked your arm away from her, almost too harshly. It tugged on her heartstrings, not knowing what was going on with you. “I cannot wait anymore.” You said, taking two steps towards Jake with an unreadable anger– an anger he didn’t know when had stemmed from.

“Is it because I’m not your daughter?”

His eyes widened. A flash of vulnerability visible in his gaze, momentarily softening his glare. “You stop this right now, y/n.” He had stood up, tucking the dagger back to his loincloth. Jake’s larger frame towered over you, telling you to drop it– to leave the conversation. But you weren’t backing down.

“I am your eldest–! You trained me earlier than Neteyam, I have been here long enough–”

“You aren’t ready!” He had shouted with the same fierceness, earning a dirty look from Neytiri.

“Why won’t you see me?” Your voice had softened, borderline begging– just a bit, but enough for his ears to flatten in response. He knew that beneath those few simple words lay many layers of underlying meaning; emotions that have yet to be spoken.

But he turns his back against you dismissively anyway. “Neytiri, get her out of here.”

Neytiri grabs you by the arms again, although a bit forceful now, but just enough for her to touch you– to have you in between her arms. She embraced you, like she was trying to keep the words from escalating. She feared one of you would say something out of line; something you both would regret.

But on the brink of the tension– the severity of the situation, you had muttered. Your voice was muffled, but it was clear. The message was oh so crystal. “You took everything from my father.”

Jake grunts, “Yeah? Well maybe your father wasn’t enough either.”

“Jake!” Neytiri hisses and although Jake couldn’t see her, he knew very well he was getting quite the conversation with his mate too.

It was a low blow. Unnecessary. A straight strike to the gut. It was a pain so bitter, you didn’t want it to linger any longer– you were nauseous. You wanted no more than to vomit everything that spiraled out of your stomach.

“You want to lead so badly and you can’t even control your temper. No clan wants a hot-head for a leader.” But he kept going– relentless and cruel. “You ought to be someone else’s shadow.”

“But I’m your daughter,” Your tone had softened, almost cracking as the lump in your throat grew. Tears blurred your vision, threatening to escape as Neytiri held you close.

“And yet you never listen to me— because I’m not exactly your father, yeah?” With one last glance, he stepped out, passing his children who stayed just outside the door, listening. Jake opens his mouth, desperate to ease the tension– the discomfort written in their faces, but he quickly shuts it and continues to walks out. He had said enough for tonight. There was nothing saving his face from this. It was best if he left instead.

“Oh, ma’ite.” Neytiri rocks her body along yours, drawing soothing circles on your back but the embarrassment settles in your chest– gnawing at your body. You catch a glance of the pitiful looks from your siblings as they try to enter the hut silently.

How could you make a mess out of yourself in front of them? Why had you let this blown over?

You retracted slowly from your mother’s hold, wiping your tears before running the opposite way from where Jake had gone to. It was better if you left instead.

mauve here! finally done writing this after racking my head for weeks. wanted it to be relatable (??) as much as possible, idk why. there is just something therapeutic w writing about your past issues <3 but i hope this one's alright!!! really excited to finally post this heheh

lots of kisses!

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alexiethymia · 3 months

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another neat little detail about ep 5- everyone diving in to save nifty, angel dust, then sir pentious, then vaggie pushing sir pentious back behind her, with alastor finally protecting everyone (which mostly has to do with stress relief but eh I’ll count it) and literally everyone bunking together behind the table against the siege. this is all happening in the background as lucifer gloats about the irredeemable nature of sinners while charlie despairs. but for those same sinners to risk their necks for each other like this??there’s just something about charlie focusing on her failures and not realizing how far she (and everyone at the hotel) have actually come.

heck even alastor and husk show some form of selflessness this ep. husk standing up to alastor cause he knows mimzy will bring trouble to the hotel, and alastor acting somewhat uncharacteristic and actually kicking mimzy out precisely because of that (heck, even before that and while rampaging he was careful not to damage the hotel).

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #alastor #nifty #angel dust #vaggie #sir pentious #husk #family feels #charlie you’re doing great sweetie #just the fact that you’re trying already does wonders

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bnnywngs · 1 year

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a-yuan: i want that

lan wangji: sure

wei wuxian: no

lan wangji, shocked: ....what

wei wuxian: you already have a lot of toys sweetie, you don't need another one

lan wangji, still shocked: how can you say no to your child?

wei wuxian:

wei wuxian: *look at teary a-yuan* no

lan wangji: *shocked gasp*

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lamemaster · 1 month

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Made of Sugar

Request: Hi! Hope this finds you well, mind if i req for a Thranduil x reader where they're like telling legolas how they met, maybe they met during the war of the last alliance? anyways love ur work especially the angst but now i need some not angst? cus im actually going to cry lmao

Pairing: Thranduil x Wife Reader

Genre: Fluff

AN: This has been due a long time! I'm sorry for the delay but this writer suffers from smooth brain 98% of the time.

“Legolas Thranduilion!” Your voice rings out loud, breaking his thoughts. For once, he wishes his father's presence was there. “Have I not made it clear that you are not to go to the wine cellars?” You pinch your nose blinking furiously as was your habit when agitated.

Legolas hasn’t known love stronger than the one he has felt for you, his eme. Your stories, your songs, the little stars you paint on the roof of his room– Legolas absorbs them with the wide-eyed devotion of a sunflower turning its face to the first rays of the sun.

But all that love does not diminish the distress of your anger. You, the one who laughed most easily, whose smile could chase away any shadow, were now a storm cloud gathered over his head.

The familiar scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke that clung to you did little to soothe the storm brewing in your eyes. Legolas flinched – he knew the terrifying, steely glint that hardened your gaze when truly angered. It was a sight rarer than a dust storm in Greenwood, but all the more impactful when it came.

At barely 80 years old, facing your wrath felt far more daunting than any monstrous spider lurking in the Greenwood.

"You are too young," you said, your voice tight. "Just you wait until I tell Thranduil." You paced around the room, pinching the bridge of your nose, a telltale sign of your agitation. "Maybe he will listen and move the wine cellars away from the main palace."

Staring at the untouched cakes, Legolas yearned for nothing more than for this tension to pass. He longed to see your easy smile return. The sight of untouched cakes, usually a source of joy, only emphasized the heavy weight of your displeasure. He longed for the days when your laughter filled the room, chasing away any shadow.

“Beloved queen of mine,” Thranduil sauntered in, his footsteps barely a whisper on the polished floor. The scent of pine needles and leather, a familiar trail, announced his presence even before he entered. “The cellar unfortunately cannot be moved.” Thranduil is already in the process of taking off his heavy robes while detangling his hair from the crown's tiny branches.

Legolas watched with a flicker of worry as your eyes narrowed in annoyance before you gave up to help his ada. "He went in there today," your gaze felt heavy on him even as you busied yourself helping Thranduil detangle the crown. "What if he drank your wine? That thing is disgusting and Legolas is too young. You must move the wine somewhere else." You placed the crown on the table.

Thranduil threw him an amused grin as your back remained turned to them as you instructed the staff to bring fresh snacks and tea. "What if I didn't get there in time…good thing Feren was kind enough to inform me."

"I am disappointed Legolas," Thranduil looked at him without an ounce of anger, and your glare at the king of Greenwood told him that this did not go unnoticed by you. "But I am sorry, my love," He looked up at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "The cellars must remain untouched. I would never in a million ages, change the place of our first meeting."

Legolas' breath hitched in his throat. You frowned. And Thranduil snickered in delight.

"You cannot be serious!" You replied indignantly.

"You met in the wine cellars?!" Legolas asked at the same time.

"We did, ion," Thranduil adds before you can cover his lips with your palm. Thranduil throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the room. A weird sight to see you this flustered, this agitated.

"We did not!"

"We absolutely did!"

"Well, I was 120," you say, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "You were not princeling."

The servants gawk at the term of endearment that slips past your lips. Some almost drop the trays of food as they put them in front of you. But both you and Thranduil are too taken by the task of bickering like decade-old elflings. "Oh yeah, I too was of age," Thranduil counters with a twinkle in his eye. "Almost of age. Only 4 years shy of it."

Thranduil straightens up, taking a playful bite into a fruit cake. "Four years too young, my love," you smirk, the topic of Legolas' transgression long forgotten. The steel of your rage softened into its original inky warmth.

"I acquiesce, my respected elder," Thranduil bows dramatically, sending another wave of laughter through the room. Legolas watched in amusement, a flicker of relief washing over him as the conversation shifted. Your voices rose in a playful argument.

Legolas, eyeing the untouched cakes, finally understood. Your gentle nature thrived beside his father, much like the sweetness of a cake is best appreciated with a pinch of salt.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil #legolas #fluff #tolkien #tolkien elves #family feels

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ghost-bxrd · 5 months

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Prompt:

Bruce is Jason’s biological father.

He finds out about it during the autopsy after Ethiopia.

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pininghermit · 9 months

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Alucard as a Dad

Request: I really liked the pregnancy fiction, can you do one for Alucard as a dad?

Summary: He knows her, knows her even more intimately than himself. A sigh of relief escapes him, and a genuine smile graces his face, erasing any lingering hesitance from his tumultuous past.

AN: I tried ;) (Dividers by @chachachannah- thanks!)

Please read this before continuing-Part 1 (It makes sense I swear)

With quivering hands and a resolute expression, Adrian cradles your daughter for the first time. A quick glance in your direction unsures he's handling everything correctly.

Yet, the moment her delicate weight settles in his arms, an understanding dawns upon him. He knows her, knows her even more intimately than himself. A sigh of relief escapes him, and a genuine smile graces his face, erasing any lingering hesitance from his tumultuous past.

The unadulterated happiness that courses through him sweeps away all uncertainties. "Narya," he addresses her by name, and your daughter meets his gaze, her tiny lips curving into a response that mirrors his smile.

She carries his resemblance remarkably, with scattered tufts of golden hair and shimmering, golden eyes. Yet, her toothless grin belongs entirely to you. The slight dimple on her chin is a charming legacy from her mother.

The first time you bring Narya to Castle Dracula, the three of you embark on a memorable project. You collectively paint your footprints on a massive sheet of paper, an endeavor that involves both you and Adrian fluttering around a squirming Narya to capture her tiny foot imprints.

In no time, he compensates for every missed moment during your pregnancy. Tired arms from holding the baby? Alucard steps in. Need a restroom break? No problem, Alucard is already at Narya's side. Late-night bouts of pacifying your daughter's cries? Adrian is there, soothing her before you even stir from your sleep.

From tending to a slight fever to ensuring a delayed burp, Adrian, despite being her father, becomes the quintessential mother hen to your daughter.

You willingly grant Adrian the time to bond with his daughter, to acquaint himself with her unique essence. You, on the other hand, have known her existence from the very moment it dawned upon you.

Your baby, a blend of both dhampir and human, bears a predominantly human appearance, with the exception of her luminous eyes and slightly lower body temperature. Her growth mirrors the developmental stages you've observed in countless other children around you.

Yet, within the secret corners of your thoughts, you harbor a desire for her to inherit more from her father. You yearn for her to possess the gift of immortality, akin to Adrian. This longing stems from your wish to leave behind someone for Adrian when your own time inevitably wanes – a constant presence to anchor him in the world.

One late afternoon, as you gently pry open the door to your bedroom, a heartwarming scene greets you: your daughter slumbers serenely atop your husband's chest. Her tiny hands grasp his shirt, finding security in his embrace. Adrian's arms cradle her with tenderness, and what takes you aback is the genuine, tranquil smile adorning his face in his slumber. This smile, free from the habitual furrow of his brow or the weight of his recurring nightmares, fills your heart with a renewed sense of hope.

In that moment, you find yourself fervently praying for her immortality more fervently than ever before. It's not just a wish for her own well-being, but a yearning to ensure that Adrian's happiness.

Castle Dracula becomes livelier with your daughter's presence. Her giggles and Adrian's baby voice ring loud from whatever room father and daughter decide to grace.

And if you walk in on your daughter cuddling into a large wolf or clapping around a party of bats you join the party. Winking at the wolf as you jump into the cuddle pile.

There are days when Alucard holds your daughter and for hours talks to the pictures of her grandparents. Both Lisa and Dracula get to meet her.

Matilda, Ronnie, Bowie, and Pink are all dolls made by Alucard for your daughter. Each given a special feature and leaves your daughter a giggling mess. Be it Bowie's squeaking noise or Pink's flapping hands.

On nights when your daughter sleeps peacefully and the world lulls into silence. Adrian turns to you and lays bare his vulnerability. All the sorrow and gratitude is expressed in quiet whispers. Tears and reassurances hold you both together.

He does not easily forgive himself for his abandonment of you during your pregnancy and it shows up during lively family dinner, story times, or nap times. But you do not allow him to spiral. Holding him close you lean in and tickle your dhampir until his booming laughter fills the room.

Both uncle Trevor and Aunt Sypha undergo the regular mandatory Narya bragging session by Alucard either in person or through letters. It doesn't surprise you that your daughter take a liking to the Belmont sooner than anyone else. "She is just compensating for his lack of intellect," your husband ads trying not to scowl at Trevor. "Haven't you heard opposites attract? My daughter just finds you stupidity funny." Neither Trevor nor Narya turn back from their conspiring whispers to reply to your annoyed husband. He does get a sympathy shoulder pat from you.

Three years later, with Narya's fist wrapped around your finger you enter the healer's hut again. Only to find the news of Narya's sibling on the way.

And this time your pregnancy is spent in Castle Dracula, next to Alucard, who takes in every detail. He spends weeks waiting for the bump to show, and nights after that talking to it.

The child inside you definitely recognizes his voice, because any indication of Adrian's presence leads to a very active march in your belly.

Alucard does not shy away from indulging in your pregnancy cravings. Pickles with jam? That's his jam now. He will join you to chug pickle juice straight from the jar.

He is however, very much concerned about the morning sickness bouts. Entirety of Dracula's library is turned over to find a cure but the child inside of you is as stubborn as his father.

Both you and Alucard burst laughing the sight of Narya mimicking your pregnancy waddle.

When the labor starts you find yourself next to Alucard again. Your hand clutched in his and your breath coming heavy. You push for an hour before your sons enter the world. Surprising everyone.

You give birth to twins bearing your and Adrian's features. Narya becomes an elder sister.

#castlevania #alucard x reader #alucard #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #Alucard's daughter #fluff #family feels

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buggyjuggie · 2 months

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How would Mileena and Kitana treat their younger sister? Like, Sindel she didn't die shut up had another child with Jerrod (somehow) when he came back as Ermac.

I would like to see how they would adjust to having a new addition to the family and what their dynamics would be like, from childhood to adulthood :)

──★ ˙ ̟Mileena and Kitana with a younger sibling

Note (please read) : i know the OP said a younger sister but i still made it a gn sibling instead because as stated i dont write female readers or self inserts BUT i still tried to include activities that would be considered ,,girl like” if that makes sense so fair warning

「 ✦ Mileena ✦ 」

* She definitely wasn’t expecting a new addition to the family

* Mileena has the hardest time adjusting to the sudden change

* She wasn’t necessarily rude or mean to you but she was pretty distant

* It didn’t help that when she was afflicted with tarkat she held it a secret from you

* After the events of mk1 Mileena decided to come clean to you about everything and vowed her best to mend both of your relationship

* Mileena helps you pick out outfits when you don’t know what to wear for fancy evenings

* Most of the time you spend with Mileena is compromised of walking around the royal gardens, deep talks, girly activities like dress up and makeup

* You were actually the first person she told about her relationship with Tanya

* At least every 2 weeks Mileena will make you and Kitana match with her picked out outfit

* You dont get to spend a lot of time with Mileena due to her royal duties as an empress but from time to time you’ll visit her to help or she’ll invite you to take part in a royal ball taking place in another city

* You and Kitana comfort Mileena a lot because of how much being an empress, her mother and Edenias expectations weigh on her shoulders

「 ✦ Kitana ✦ 」

* Kitana was happy but also a bit apprehensive

* While Mileena is more conservative to showing you affection when you were young, Kitana was the opposite

* Most of your childhood was spent with Kitana either reading in the big palace library or her teaching you about different weapons, history and preparing you for the future

* She is your biggest supporter anything you wanna do, be or try she’ll be there to lend a hand if you need it

* You and Mileena are yappers while Kitana is a listener but the shit talking goes HARD once Kitana joins in on the conversation

* Both of the sisters are really protective over you

* If you have long hair then you guys do a hair braiding train (sometimes Sindel also joins in)

* On april fools (let’s pretend it happens in outworld) Kitana and Mileena pranked you by switching clothing, hairstyle, makeup ect. So Kitana looked like Mileena and Mileena looked like Kitana. Sindel spent the whole day trying not to laugh out loud

* Most of the time you end up being a third wheel when Raiden comes by to visit Kitana or even a fifth wheel if Mileena and Tanya decide go on a double date with the other mentioned pair

* Kitana’s favourite way to spend time with her siblings is cuddling up with them with soft blankets and a lit candle

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #NOT INSCEST dont be weird about it #kitana x reader #mileena x reader #mileena x tanya #kitana x raiden #i snuck some of that in cuz i tought it was cute #sindel #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 #family feels #mortal kombat headcanons #headcanons #gn reader

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tanema123 · 14 days

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Just some random spider shenanigans. Prompt: spiders inject their prey with acid to soften the insides and later eat those. In other words...

Zestial can't eat solid foods and has to mash them every time he eats.

Carmilla has gotten used to it, but the girls have just met him and are very confused. They accepted the fact after a while.

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wangxianficrecs · 20 days

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💙 An Inch of Grass, and All The Sunshine of Spring by ChilianXianzi

💙 An Inch of Grass, and All The Sunshine of Spring

by ChilianXianzi

T, WIP, 1k, Wangxian

Part of Exploring Tropes: Time Travel

Summary:"Did you…Did you know our A-Ying?" Cangse Sanren's eyes are wide and full of hope, and Lan Wangji is suddenly struck by the realization that he is the only one in the world now who would still speak of Wei Ying with fondness. Who knows him enough outside of the wild and hurtful rumors scattered across the land. Just him, in all of his own failings and his poor grasp of words. But Lan Wangji had failed Wei Ying once, and if he could not speak for Wei Ying when the whole world had bayed for his blood, then he owes it to Wei Ying to speak of him kindly now, to let his meagre words tumble out of lips unused still to speech after years of silence. He doesn't expect there to be so much words inside him, doesn't expect that his words would carry him until the sky darkens around them. Doesn't expect the embrace enveloping him after he is done - Warm and firm and safe. Kay's comments: Looking at this WIP with great longing and heart-break. I absolutely adore the idea of Wei Wuxian's parents being trapped inside the Burial Mounds and being freed many years later. Unfortunately, they only get freed here after Wei Wuxian's death, but at least Lan Wangji is the one to do it and also the only one who would ever speak kindly of their son. Absolutely devastating and even incomplete worth a read, this story never fails to destroy me. Excerpt: "It's Lan-gongzi, right?" The woman's face brightens, hand gesturing to her own temples to echo Lan Wangji's forehead ribbon, "You're a member of the main clan? Huh, could have sworn I've never seen you - You're one of Qiren's cousins or something? I swear you look just like him if he'd just shave off that awful goatee of his." "Cangse," the man nudges the woman gently, even as he dips another, almost apologetic bow at Lan Wangji, "Come, let's not take more of Lan-Gongzi's time. A-Ying must be waiting for us, with how long we've been gone-" Cangse, the man said. The woman knows his Shufu, knows him enough to see the resemblance even others often pass over between them, knows him enough to call him Qiren. A-Ying must be waiting for us. It's a well-known story, a tragic, cautionary tale for Cultivators walking into every unknown Night Hunt. Baoshan Sanren's brightest disciple and her cultivation partner, who walked into the Burial Mounds one night and never came back. Oh. Oh.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, time travel, fix-it of sorts, cangse sanren and wei changze live, families of choice, family feels, grief/mourning, parent-child relationship, fluff and angst, lan wangji/wei wuxian get a happy ending, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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sadlybeans · 2 months

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No More Batman AU Part 1: Robin is Dead

(link for AO3 here)

Batburger was the last restaurant Jason would’ve chosen to give money to, but it was the closest to the apartment and also the cheapest. After all, wherever else can you get two vegetarian sandwiches plus fries and drinks for 9.99? Alas, going into the store plastered with Batman and Robin memorabilia that made him want to punch a wall.

The teenager at the register talked with a bored monotone voice as he repeated the order, completely unphased by the suspicious man towering at the other side of the counter, and Jason scoured the restaurant as he did, evaluating for any possible danger. The booths by the corner were occupied by a group of girls still in their uniform and talking loudly as they discussed an upcoming dance recital, and the only other table that was occupied consisted of a young college student having a breakdown as they typed frantically on a beaten up laptop, all in all not an apparent threat. Actually, Jason was the biggest threat in that place, towering over all the costumers with his 6’3 frame and broad shoulders that were poorly concealed by a red hoodie and a black leather jacket.

“… do you want to add anything else to your order…?”

“No” he tossed a twenty bill on the counter just as his phone pinged. I’m starving, come back this instant. He sighed. “Make it twice as fast and you can keep the change”

The cashier vanished towards the kitchen in a hurry.

Gotham hadn’t changed at all since he died, from her dirty streets to the police sirens echoing in the distance and her shadows flying overhead… the same shadows he was trying to avoid as if his life depended on it. Even if he was believed to be six feet under he took all the necessary precautions to conceal his face, even wearing a surgical mask in the short three minute hike to the shitty rental unit they called home.

“Food’s here” he announced as he took off his shoes and jacket, dropping the mask as well. From the hallway you could hear the cacophony of noise the washing machine was making.

Unpack, fold the napkins, serve. Still nobody else in the kitchen.

“Your painting is still gonna be there later” he drawled in a louder voice towards the hallway.

Nothing.

Fuck… he really cursed his decisions in life in that moment, and also found a newfound respect for all single mothers and fathers out there.

“Damian Al Ghul-Wayne, it’s time for dinner and if you don’t come here this instant I’ll drag you here myself”

Something was thrown on a desk -a sketchbook most likely- and seconds later a lanky teenage boy emerged from his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping his way over to the table, where he sat down without saying a word.

Damian had grown since the first time they met— back then he was only five, a tiny ball of anger that gave nightmares to his experienced tutors. Now he was fifteen and he was, to Jason’s relief, an almost completely normal child; he watched TV, he liked animals, he liked painting and writing, and he was smack middle on his teenage rebel phase. Assassin abilities aside, he was no different from most other kids his age thanks to Jason’s influence, something Thalia often reminded them both of.

He’s a little demon brat. He would tell her.

You just miss the days in which he was glued to your shadow. She would answer affectionately.

They had not seen her in over a year now and Jason knew part of his attitude was due to being in a completely different place with a different culture, away from his grandfather’s luxurious palace and his mother’s love. But it was for his own good… he deserved to know his father too, and Thalia had always intended to have him sent to Gotham eventually, although not as late as it ended up happening.

However… one year after arriving in Gotham, they had yet to seek out the Bat. Jason didn’t like to admit it, but he wasn’t ready to part from the boy he had raised for the past decade, because once he dropped Damian at his doorstep he would not see him again for a long time, if ever. And apparently Damian wasn’t eager to leave, as he hadn’t asked about it once.

“I’m going out tonight for a job” he announced, breaking the silence “tomorrow morning we have an appointment in Gotham Academy to enroll you, so wake up early and dress in something that isn’t a hoodie and sweatpants.”

Damian frowned, squeezing the empty wrapper of his sandwich on his fist.

“I don’t need to go to a stupid school full of dumb children! I’m much smarter than that bunch of… bunch of idiots!”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get smart with me, I taught you to tie your shoes and helped you with your essays” no matter how hard Damian tried, he was still just a baby in his eyes “your mother arranged this for you, so you are going. Coming to live with your father means mixing in and being normal”

“But I am not living with father!”

Jason sighed.

“You will soon, so it’s better to arrange some things beforehand, to help you adjust—“

“It’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair! Look, just— going back into routine will be good for you, and besides school doesn’t start for a few more weeks. I know this is new and all but you do need to socialise too”

“But I don’t want to go, why can’t I make my own choices if you want me to grow up so badly!?”

“Because you’re still a child! You think you know everything but you don’t, I was fifteen once too! And until you can make your own decisions it’s my job to do what’s on your best interest”

Damian threw his cup to the ground spilling ice everywhere and ran back to his room, slamming the door so hard that the downstairs neighbour knocked on the floor -their ceiling- with a broom seconds after.

Jason wasn’t too hungry anymore. Maybe they could have the leftovers later.

Walking inside a Batburger was like stepping into a personalised nightmare, with Robin’s face plastered in every wall and menu. Dick Grayson pursed his lips and avoided looking anywhere but straight at the line of people in front of him, holding his bag (“it’s not a purse, Steph, who else is gonna carry all of your stuff while you guys run around?“) tightly.

Normally going to the faire every year involved them following the long standing tradition of devouring a mountain of tacos and making a competition out of it, but that year the owner of their favourite truck had retired and nothing tasted the same. They were tired and hungry, and Batburger had the shorter line of people waiting, be it for their mediocre food or their “Five Minutes or Free” slogan.

After waiting for seven minutes, he called bullshit on that slogan and texted a photo of the sign to the groupchat, demanding Bruce send them a lawsuit.

Tim answered with a zoomed in picture of the tiny print at the bottom that basically said ‘restrictions apply’.

Dick sighed defeatedly and resigned himself to wait for a few minutes more, when one of the other patrons started raising their voice.

“-sorry sir but your order says—“

“I know what it says, I’m not illiterate” the young boy answered in a snappy tone “I explicitly told your half deaf coworker that I wanted no pickles! Make it again!”

“But the ticket says—“

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“No sir, but—“

“Then make it again!”

“We’re not allowed to do that but I can offer a discount for—“

The kid seemed about to jump over the counter to strangle the employee and Dick decided he needed to step in less they caused a bigger scene, so he slipped behind the teenager.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt— I know this is a really big inconvenience for all of us here so, why don’t you just give this kid a new order? He clearly doesn’t want the pickles and your coworker might’ve simply forgotten to write it down”

The employee looked unsure.

“Company policy is very strict”

“Then is there anything else we may be able to do?” Dick asked with a smile, purposefully letting his jacket move and show a corner of his old police badge.

The employee smiled nervously.

“I’ll bring out a new one—“

He disappeared to tell the cooks and Dick sighed, shaking his head. The kid huffed and crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed, and a minute later the guy came back with the new sandwich and Dick’s full order. He smiled and took his order, but the kid didn’t bother to hide his distate as he snatched the paper bags from the counter.

For some reason, he decided to follow quickly.

“Hey, did nobody teach you to say thank you?”

The kid stopped to turn to him, and he finally got a good look to his face; he had brown skin darker than his own and black hair that tried to be arranged as rebel but was too soft and straight to stick to said style. His eyes were hidden behind round sunglasses and he wore a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big.

“Did nobody teach you how to mind your own business?” he replied sarcastically.

Dick nearly gasped like a suburban white lady, as Duke usually called said expression.

“That’s not—“

“Whatever”

The kid turned around and walked off, leaving Dick with his mouth gaping as he watched him go to a tall intimidating mountain of a man waiting by a lamppost. He too wore a pair of fashionable round sunglasses and a red mask, with only a tuft of wild white hair visible from beneath his red hood. The kid’s father or uncle maybe?

Dick’s phone pinged insistently and he groaned, turning away and forgetting about it as he walked away to go find the others less Steph started bombarding him with more texts about starving to death.

By some miracle nobody had been murdered when he sat down at their table, although Tim had left them to hang out with his friends instead. Dick thought it was so great he was socialising, and it was so nice to see Cassie and Bart all grown up. Conner looked so happy too, which was a relief after all he had gone through— Dick made a mental note to call uncle Kal and ask how Lois and Jonathan were doing. Ever since Bruce retired from the hero business Nightwing had picked up his place and he was the main line of communication between his father and the League; they never knew of his secret identity but they still considered him a close friend so they kept in touch, which Dick was grateful for since god knows Bruce needed it.

“Finally!” Steph snatched a bag from his hands and started passing on each person’s order “Why didn’t you hurry? You’ve gotta leave before six if you want to avoid rush hour”

“I’m sure they’ll make it just fine” Duke appeased her, pushing the biggest bag of chips towards Cass, who thanked him with a smile. “It doesn’t close anyways”

“That’s not the point and you know it—“

Dick offered a small smile and started eating in silence while soon their conversation drifted off into other topics. They didn’t try to include him or Bruce into it, they knew that it was already inconvenient enough that their annual faire trip had unfortunately coincided with this specific date—

Normally, this one day a year was reserved for peace and quiet; Alfred would be off from early in the morning and they’d spend their time doing their own things in relative silence, and Cass, Tim and Duke would pretend they did not notice that a certain locked door was ajar at the end of the hallway. Then at around lunch Dick would come into the manor, leave them takeout, and he would leave with Bruce, both of them dressed semi formally, not always in black. Cass, Tim and Duke would pretend there wasn’t any tears in Bruce’s eyes when they said goodbye.

Tim had gone once, when he was a kid, just to pay his respects. He says they stop by a small quaint flower shop to pick up the same arrangement as every year, and then they sit with Jason for a while in the empty cemetery. Forget-me-nots, camellias, white chrysanthemums. They would be back an hour or so later, and Bruce would hug each of his boys and his princess, and the next day they would slowly build back up to normalcy.

Duke had suggested they cancel that year, that the faire would come back the next one anyways, but it hadn’t been such a bad idea to come after all… it was nice. They shared time as a family and they had fun, and most importantly neither Bruce nor Dick had been particularly down the whole day. Not that— not that they shouldn’t be sad… none of them knew what it was like to lose a brother or a son.

“— don’t forget to use your lights” Dick came back to himself just as Bruce was lecturing Tim, car keys in hand.

“I know B, I’ve been driving for months” the boy sighed, holding out his palm.

“Don’t worry mr. Wayne, we’ll keep Tim out of trouble!” Bart chirped from behind Dick’s little brother.

Bruce looked far from convinced.

“Are you sure you don’t want Cass and Steph to drop you off?”

Tim groaned and Dick chuckled, finally stepping in.

“I’m sure they’ll be just fine, Tim’s a big boy now”

Tim gave him the middle finger but Bruce finally relented and gave him the keys, letting them go after a hasty goodbye. They watched them retreat and Dick smiled softly at his brother’s hand holding Conner’s.

“We’ll be going too, I think. Tell us when you arrive, yes?”

“Be safe on your way” Duke told him after giving him a pat on the back.

“Bye!” Steph waved from the other side of the table.

Cass hugged their father and then Dick, patting his back gently and whispering a goodbye. Dick had to keep reminding himself he’d see them later that night as they walked to the parking lot.

“—that’s why the Jason Todd Fund—“

The car breaked hard and Damian yelped as he was propelled forwards and nearly slammed his face on the windshield if not for the safety belt across his chest.

“What the fuck was that!?” he coughed as he sat back up “What’s wrong with you!?”

Jason wasn’t listening, his knuckles turning white where they held the steering wheel and his shoulders tense. He must have heard wrong, he surely had… he turned the volume on the radio nearly all the way up and the locutor’s voice filled the car.

“— today marks the tenth year since the tragic death of Jason Todd-Wayne and thirty five other victims of Park Row during a building explosion orchestrated by the Joker before his disappearance. This year’s vigil is attended by Bruce Wayne’s daughter Cassandra and his foster son, Duke Thomas. Bruce Wayne himself and his eldest son Richard Grayson have refused their appearance and expressed their wishes to mourn in private as many other families have chosen to do, but it is only thanks to Wayne Enterprises’ generous donation that the vigil is possible—“

Jason had almost stopped breathing entirely, frozen in his seat, and even Damian was shocked into silence, staring wide eyed at the radio as if that could provide any answers or context into what they were hearing.

“—tham Gazette was able to interview Richard Grayson on the matter and his words have moved the hearts of many today;” and it was him, it was his voice in his car: “There’s no words to express our gratitude at the kindness shown by all of Gotham. All of us have sadly lost a loved one to criminals like him, all of us have felt the desire to give up sometimes, but it is a testament to our strength that we continue to fight despite our pain. It reminds us that we are all equals in this world. For us… we never had a body to bury, never had closure as to what happened to my little brother, and we are not the only family with a member that will forever be missing—“

Jason turned off the radio and the silence was deafening for all of two seconds before it registered in his brain that the cars lined up behind them were honking like crazy. Slowly the car moved forwards and he turned right on the corner, parking right in front of a half deserted pizza place.

He just stared at the road outside and the people walking by going about their normal day, to the dirty sidewalk and the lights reflecting off the damp concrete. For a year he had been living in the same city, breathing the same air, and he had never once heard a single word about his ‘old family’ beyond a few commercials on the TV about Wayne Enterprises. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to go out at night to observe Gotham’s vigilantes— and now, the first time he had to confront the fact that his past was still alive right there in Gotham, it happened to be on the damn tenth anniversary of his death.

Fuck, it wasn’t even the right date, he died nearly an entire week earlier in Ethiopia.

He had— He had to leave. He couldn’t… this was too much, he should’ve never come back to this cursed city no matter how much Thalia begged him to, he should’ve never played house with Damian for so long knowing he would have to say goodbye anyways. So he had to leave now that he wasn’t entangled in anything with them just yet. Damian’s school enrolment was all handled, he knew how to move around the city both by simple directions and public transport, he knew the basics of human interaction— he was ready. He had been ready so long ago and Jason should’ve let him go then.

He merged back onto traffic and started drafting travel plans just as a light rain started falling.

“Hey bud, your books are still all over the living room, we need to leave this place spotless by the end of the day!”

The kitchen appliances had come with the apartment and neither of them would need any of the other things he’d bought when they moved in so he left them all where they were, the landlord could probably make some use of them or donate them. The fridge was already empty and their trash had been taken out so they would just stop at a nice place to eat later.

Clothes had all been handled, documents were already on the organised folder, trinkets packed up for donation or in the car, passport ready and plane ticket right besides it—

“Damian have you seen my phone?” he lifted up the cushions and looked around, he could’ve sword he had it in hand seconds earlier! “I was thinking we could go to that lebanese place down on 38th? It’s not too fancy but the food was good and I know you liked it even if you won’t say you did.“ as he spoke he made a couple laps around the living room and then figured it might just be in his bed “Or if you want we can try something new, we can splurge as much as you want— Damian?”

He had to do a double take as he nearly walked by the open bedroom door; the last suitcase was open on the bed, neatly organised clothing and books put on it, with only a last few things on the desk. The teen boy say besides it completely still, staring at the dull grey carpet and his spotless white socks.

“You ok?”

Damian didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge his presence despite the fact that for the past two years he had gone off every time Jason set half a foot into his bedroom like he was doing now.

“… I know this is probably very sudden and that’s making you nervous but I’m sure everything is going to turn out fine, if it doesn’t then Thalia will surely come pick you up right away and—“

“Why do you want to get rid of me?”

Jason’s words died in his mouth.

“W-What?” he let out in a whisper.

“I’m never going to see you again” he repeated, twisting the sleeve of Jason’s hoodie between his fingers “Is that why you’re trying to get rid of me so badly?”

For a moment, Jason stared at him, at the way his fingers moved, and then he looked around the room and all the books that once had been his but had slowly been stolen away after he was done with them, and to the suitcase full of clothes of which half had once been part of his own closet.

“Of course I’m not” he said weakly, not knowing what to say “I know this isn’t great and I… I can’t keep you here forever, kiddo. It doesn’t mean that I like it but your dad—“

“He’s not my father”

“Damian—“

“Forget it, I never said anything” he grunted as he stood up and walked out of the room, bumping their shoulders roughly as he passed by.

“I didn’t mean to—“

“I said forget it!”

Jason stood there lost on what to say or do as he heard the door of the bathroom closing and locking, and it wasn’t until minutes too long of standing there that he realised Damian wasn’t coming back. Moving in automatic like a robot, he organised the last things left in the bedroom inside the suitcase and zipped it up.

His heart felt like an endless void when they carried their things down the stairs to the car, Damian’s face obscured by his sunglasses and the hood of his sweater. It only grew larger and larger as the motor ignited and as they drove away from the building. It was just a shitty rundown unit that cost way too much for what it was actually worth, everything had broken down at least ten times over the year, the walls were paper thin and the neighbours all sucked, and yet it still felt like losing the only home he had had in the past ten years.

It didn’t brought him any relief when Damian passively aggreed to eat chinese, nor when they finally had an entire meal without bickering or full on fighting. He didn’t even scold him for wearing sunglasses indoors, or for refusing to touch the green peppers on his meal.

The food tasted like nothing as his head kept spiralling into a million thoughts and possibilities and what the repercussions could possibly be if he just refused to give up Damian, and then he felt so stupid for even thinking he was cut to take care of the boy when the past year had left clear he was a shitshow of a caretaker and that the only reason he had had success during the boy’s childhood was because Thalia was there along with a small army of tutors and caretakers. He would be so much better off, so much happier, once he arrived at the manor regardless of how Jason felt about it because like it or not, Bruce Wayne was his father and there was nothing to do about that.

As they drove away from the restaurant he kept trying to convince himself that he was just overthinking things, that he was going to be just fine once they split up, that he wasn’t going to be worried all day every day, that he wouldn’t regret walking away forever.

The taxi driver was punctual as she had promised and she helped them load the car with Damian’s suitcases and boxes, leaving only just Jason’s luggage in the backseat. Then she gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and got on the car to give them some privacy.

“I already paid for the ride, she’ll drop you off at the doors and then you give this to either your father or Alfred” Jason put the folder in Damian’s hands, repeating the instructions he had drafted and memorised days ago “your phone and electronics will likely be inspected but I already wiped any identifying or sensible information regarding me, so you text your mom when you get there and she’ll let me know, it should be right before my flight. Remember that you were here with just another random assassin, nobody of relevance, got it?”

Damian pursed his lips at the folder and nodded stiffly. Jason took a deep shaky breath.

“… I’m sorry. I’m gonna miss you, even if you don’t think I will. If I can— If I ever have the opportunity, I’ll write or- or something”

“….”

In a last impulsive decision he pulled Damian to his chest and just— hugged him. For one, two, three seconds and then just maybe an entire minute or more. He never wanted to let go. Damian didn’t hug back.

When he pulled away he cleared his throat and smoothed over the rumpled hoodie, escorting him back to the taxi and closing the door behind him. Damian didn’t look at him once as they drove off.

Jason would like to say he didn’t stand there on the empty street for long minutes after the taxi disappeared in the distance, that he didn’t feel like his entire world was ending as he drove to the airport, and that there wasn’t any tears clouding his vision the entire trip.

And if he could only just have thought of staying a minute or a few seconds longer, then maybe he would know that in the backseat of that taxi, a fifteen year old boy was sobbing quietly as he hugged a folder against his chest.

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avatarkv · 10 months

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V ! I Know it's for the better. Know it's for the better.

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 5057)

Song: Waiting Room, Phoebe Bridgers.

“Can you hear me, corporal?” He chuckles, “Yeah. I think you can.”

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, consider yourself a dead man.” Your father seethed through the intercom that you could feel his very rage– it frightened you, almost more so than being captured by Quaritch. Jake wasn't the kind of man who liked to make idle threats; it was his commitment that made him the perfect olo’eyktan, but it was purely love that made him the father he is today.

You knew very well what he was capable of.

You tugged at the binds, desperate to loosen them but to no avail. Squirming uncomfortably in your seat, despair settled into your chest like lead and you felt helpless. You didn't even put up a fight to begin with; all those training, just to end up at the root of it all. You could only glare at Quaritch while he looked down at you, fingers pressing the pager on his ear.

“Now don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you have your father’s eyes.” His remark made your gaze falter, disgust coursing through your body. “You know what to do, Jake.”

“Don’t touch her, asshole! She’s just a kid–

“Might’ve gotten a few scratches in, but nothing a few bandaids can’t fix.” Quaritch looks you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips, “Don’t worry, we show visitors the utmost respect here. I’m certain you’d know our customs around these parts, marine.” His tone is slightly aggressive and there's an air of smugness in his words– he’s provoking him, taking pleasure in knowing that he has the upper hand.

Scratches my ass. They gave you one hell of a shot on your side when they tried to kill off your ilu and they did nothing but put some ragged cloth to stop the bleeding. You knew it wasn’t any deep, but it still hurt– not to mention you’ve lost a lot of blood from their harsh tugging. You wince, thinking about it. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline coursing through your body, you would’ve been in a whole lot of pain.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Same as before. You for her.”

Their voices melted into the background, like a low hum of static passing through your ears. Despite the noise, you feel yourself attune to it after a while and allow yourself to drift away. Eventually, it tuned itself out and you were surrounded by an almost eerie silence.

Your father had said something, you remembered, something you had missed.

You had missed the looming aircraft above– unlike the usual helicopters you knew, this one flew stealthily, as if it was designed to lurk and catch even the slightest of movement. At first, they thought it was merely a lone ilu; they were now at the reef, after all. Your color blended almost perfectly with its skin, movement as fluid as the raging sea. They had shot it, grazing its fin.

“Mawey, mawey!” You had screamed in panic, trying to hold on to its thrashing body. “Dad–”

The ilu struggled, bellowing in pain. It was impossible to form a bond, let alone control your breathing– the bluish-green waters were now tainted with a faint, crimson hue. Blood; familiar blood, painful red.

“__, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay?” It was difficult to make out the words he had spoken over the loud static of the pager. The radio waves were making it hard for either of them to hear properly. Trying again, he shouted, “Sweetheart, I’m–”

From there, they had spotted you; a forest na’vi, sticking out like a sore thumb. Quaritch had most certainly hit the jackpot upon seeing that it was none other than Jake Sully's eldest daughter.

You wondered what he could have uttered in that moment before Quaritch and his people had rushed to get to you. Could it have been an apology– a sorry you’ve been longing for? Sweetheart, I’m sorry for being so tough on you. I’m sorry we had to leave home– leave him. I’ll find you and you’ll be okay. We’re going home.

But the thought of facing his disappointment again plagued you; once it had been his love that held you together, but now this fear kept your feet firmly planted on the ground.

Sweetheart, I’m disappointed in you– how could you put yourself in this situation? How could you put everyone in danger again? What would Neteyam think? I’m tired, __. You tire me.

Yeah, that was surely it.

Your eyes wandered around the room; the unfamiliar white walls reminded you just how far away from home you were and perhaps this time, you could never return.

Quaritch grabs your braid in his fist, tugging on it with a vice-like grip and forcing you to look up at him. You stifle a cry of pain, feeling the throbbing ache all across your scalp as his grip tightens around it. He tugs on it further, wanting a sound out of you, but all you could let out was a loud hiss. “Can’t hear your father, darling, think we have to put on a show.” He sneers, “You must not really love your children, Jake.”

“I understand already–! get your fucking hands off her!”

“I don’t think you understand, really.” Quaritch taunts.

A beat of silence passes before your father's desperate voice echoes through the intercom. “Please,” he pleads, “Don't hurt my daughter."

“There we go,” He finally releases your hair, “I’ll be waiting, Jake.”

Quaritch removes the pager, discarding it on the table just in front of you.

“You must be very disappointed in yourself,” A low hiss erupted from your throat as you gazed upwards. He sat in front of you, mockingly close, yet far enough that you couldn’t do anything but glare. “Does this not remind you of a familiar night?”

“They are coming for you,” Your tone was menacing– livid, as the words snarled from your lips. “And when they do, you’re gonna wish that you’ve let yourself rot in that shack.”

It flashed through his mind– a glimmer of your mother that burned fiercely; a warning. Quaritch straightened his posture, chuckling. “That traitor is coming to save his dear daughter in distress, much like your brother had. We know how it'll end.”

“Not until he kills you first,”

“You’re in a different boat, kid, away from the main one. What happens if I tell him he’d been too late and I got bored?” He shakes his head, snickering, like he had figured it all out– like he had carefully planned for everything to work out just so.“That this kid had too much of a mouth on her that I had to cut her throat?”

His words had struck you– a low blow. You feel as if your mouth has suddenly gone dry and the lump that appears in your throat lodges itself there stubbornly, refusing to move. No words came out of your lips, but a pathetic low sob. He was going to kill your father and he could succeed in doing so. “You’re one sick man.”

“You know your brother didn’t have to die,” His voice held no remorse and you wondered how someone could sleep so soundly. He stands up, dusting his pants, “But your father had it coming. Now stay here and be a sweetheart.”

Before he walked out, Quaritch had looked down on you one last time. There, you realized that you doomed yourself beyond salvation. You were nothing and he made sure of that— had cut you on a barely healing wound and now it reopened, bleeding more than ever.

Eywa must’ve turned her back. No child of hers would have suffered such trouble– and you were young. So young, you think that the stories of her were absurd. One more miracle, you needed just one more.

The lights dimmed when the doors closed, leaving you in the dark with your thoughts.

They were arguing again.

Tuk was nestled close to Kiri, the two of them huddled together in front of the table. Lo'ak sat on the other side, rising slightly from his seat in an effort to eavesdrop and make out whatever he could hear from their parents’ conversation.

Something was off and gravely so. Nothing ever good rooted from a fight and they barely do, not until the past occurrences. It had to be the sky-people.

“I don’t feel so good,” Tuk muttered, her grip tight around her belly as if she could hold in the pain. “The last time this happened was when we left our home.”

“We’re not leaving, Tuk.” Kiri quickly assured her.

Their meal had gone cold and the silence was deafening. They all waited with baited breath, trying not to fidget or move. The suspense was growing thick in the air and they didn't know how much longer they could bear to remain idle, wondering what the hell was happening.

As if their prayers had been answered, Jake hurriedly walks inside, eyes falling to his panicked children. It made his heart more and more heavy, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort them. Neytiri had already gone to Ronal’s

“Kids,” His voice was low and firm, and it made his shoulders stiff in anticipation, “Make sure everyone stays here. No one goes out the reef, understand?”

“Wait—” Lo’ak abruptly stands up, staggering to his feet. “What’s happening? Where’s __?”

“They took her.” It was all the answer he needed. The sky-people had found them. “Lo’ak, stay here with your sisters. I mean it.”

“You can’t expect me to stay here while __ is in danger—”

“I need one child! One child to listen when I tell them to stay,” He raises his voice with every word, but it wavers as he speaks— Jake could barely keep himself together, eyes betraying his authority. His gaze sharply shifts to his daughters, watching intensely as the scene unfolds. “Kiri, please.” She only replies with a curt nod and Lo’ak visibly deflates.

He needed them to stay here— here, where it’s safe. Here where Quaritch couldn’t touch them.

From afar, he embodied the fierce olo’eyktan that he is, but truthfully, he trembles as a father. He blamed himself for that night– blamed himself for everything that had happened. Jake couldn’t risk losing another one. Not only will he be failing his family, he’d fail Neteyam again, most of all.

Lo’ak slumps his shoulders, pushing past Jake. “This isn’t fair,” He mutters under his breath. Jake’s eyebrows knitted tightly and he knew damn well there was no going back from talking back to a parent. “You aren’t being fair– how could you ask us to standby?”

“I’m not asking, Lo’ak. It’s an order.”

“That’s even worse!” He shouts in reply and Jake is taken back.

There it is. The emotions desperate to claw out of their throats. If toughening them to an extent was a good thing, why was it biting him in the ass right now? Jake’s bottom lip quivered slightly. He didn’t need this– not now. He would’ve dealt with it properly, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand. Jake didn’t need his kids reminding him how he fucked up. He didn’t need another heartache when he had to toughen himself out.

“This isn’t the time for attitude, Lo’ak–” Jake exhales a deep breath, his eyes squinting as he clenches his jaw. He tries hard to keep himself in check, the last thing he wants is to lose his temper. Talk to them. Calmly. “You think I have the upperhand? Your sister needs me right now, what don’t you understand?”

“This would not have happened if you could just listen!”

“Well I’m here now, Lo’ak– just what do you have to say?” He stares back at him with an intensity that matches his own, voice slightly raised.

A million thoughts raced his mind. Will he blame him for bringing him here–? Here in awa’altu where they had to unlearn everything they have known– here in awa’atlu, away from his brother; but when silence had only replied to his outburst, he sighed wearily.

“Right now, we do not see eye to eye, boy.” His tone turns gentle, surprisingly. It causes Lo’ak to become rigid– unmoving as he takes in his father’s unfamiliar nature. The atmosphere shifted so somewhat awkward. Lo’ak only knew how to deal with his father’s anger. “And that’s on me. I know you blame me for being a shit father, and I want you to. I messed up and I keep messing up.”

“Then why can’t you be better?” He said so casually, like it was something Jake could accomplish with a flick of a switch, as if it was an easy task she simply hadn't put in enough effort for. But that was never the case.

Truthfully, he didn’t know what to answer. Didn’t want to tell his son that this was already his best. He liked to think that no father is perfect– eased him just a little knowing that there were far worse than him. But maybe he was no better.

When he knew that Neteyam’s eyes would never open again, he thought that hurt had hit the lowest of lows. But here he was, watching his son’s hateful gaze and had never been so wrong.

His ears flattened. “Stay here Lo’ak, please.”

Coward. Jake was a coward.

Lo'ak let out a frustrated scoff, quickly turning his head away and storming off in anger. He left the Marui so hastily that Jake was left alone with a crestfallen expression etched on his face. His expression was enough for Kiri to run after him, Tuk trailing behind. She jogged hastily, her breath catching in her throat as she eventually managed to match Lo'ak's pace.

“Lo’ak, they asked us to stay here.” Kiri tried to grasp on his wrist, only for him to retract harshly. They continued to walk towards the shore in an argument, “Lo’ak!”

“They have __, I’m going.” He continues to march towards his ilu, caressing its head in greeting while it mewls in return. “I’m not losing another one, Kiri. She’s my sister.”

Kiri grabs his hand, turning him around to face her sharply. Tuk’s head peeps to watch from behind her legs, “I’m your sister too! You’re scaring Tuk, just let them handle it.”

“What’s going on?” Ao’nung calls. Tsireya had heard of the commotion and immediately went to find Lo’ak and it was no surprise that he’d want to go after his parents.

“This is the sky people we’re talking about! The same people who–” He had exhaled loudly in frustration, his movements jerking and violent as he ran his hands through his braids repeatedly. His face contorts in stress and disbelief, and he yanks on his hair lightly, an attempt to shift the focus of his energy to something tangible instead of this hopelessness that has crept up on him.

“I have to be there.”

“Keep your skxawng ass here, I swear to Eywa.” But her threats fell on deaf ears as he continued to mount his ilu, spear in hand. He threw them one last glance before he sped away, leaving Kiri to call out his name.

Rotxo’s expression grew worried as he watched Lo’ak’s figure disappear amongst the vast spread of water. Forehead creased in concern as he looked around where everyone had been standing, “Are we supposed to let him?”

“Eywa, of course not.” She had clapped towards the Ilus, beckoning them to ride. “Let’s go, people.”

Life was simple back then.

Jake knew he had to pull on his weight, lengthen his patience, and learn fatherhood from scratch. He was far from perfect, but he was sure that even his best efforts would still be better than what his own father had done for him when it came to parenting. His old man had never been there for him in any sense of the word.

“Alright babygirl, your turn.” Jake beckons you to take Neteyam’s place as he lends you his bow.

“He’s gonna come out behind those big rocks,” Your father instructs. He grabs your arm and moves it just a bit higher, steadying your aim with his firm grip. “Slowly, steady. Watch your aim.” You squint your eyes, focusing your sight as the fish comes to sight, stuck between the current and the rocks. With a deep breath, you release your hold, striking it right through its body.

“Good job, sweetheart. Go get it!” He shouts, giving you a big smooch on the cheek as he pushes you to claim your hunt. You giggle, feeling absolutely proud.

As you and Neteyam proudly display the fish you have both caught, he watches with a big smile. “My mighty fishermen, now let’s go home and show mama.”

Bracelets were enough to make his kids happy back then; beads and trinkets he found along his hunts. They would keep it for years to come and Jake thought he had cracked the code. But the gifts turned to few and then none and the ones they kept had burned along the crossfire. He became stricter– tougher on them.

He knew being a marine best than a father.

When his children looked at him, it wasn’t of love— he wasn’t dense with how their shoulders stiffened around him. Jake thought it was a good thing, to keep them all in a straight line, for them to learn discipline early. But as they grew older, they were getting harder to reach and no amount of presents could make them come back.

“Lo’ak started it!” Your eyebrows were heavily knitted, fangs bared as you showed him the broken bracelet. You tightly held onto the beads, afraid that you’d lose more of it.

Your brother had immediately turned defensive, shoulders tense. “If you hadn’t been in the way, it would’ve been avoided!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jake quickly interrupted you both, massaging his temples. “One night. One night without any of you bickering. You’re older, __, why can’t you be the bigger person?”

Your heart sank a little. You weren’t growing younger and so was your dad. Jake never took the time to craft, unlike before. The bracelet was from him and it would’ve made you feel better if he had listened.

“No more of this, you hear me? It’s just some stupid bracelet. Jesus Christ.”

Jake wasn’t perfect. He knows that– knows his children deserve better. He fears that when people ask them of him, they’d tell them how great of an olo’eyktan he is– how he fought against the sky-people, but never how he was as a father.

Your father loves you– loves everyone dearly. He would burn the whole world for his children– but the thing about fathers, they have an odd way of showing it.

As they finally near the large battleship, his hand pressed on the pager. “Babygirl, do you hear me?”

Your head perked up at the static coming from the pager discarded on the table right in front of you. Your body jerked against the binds desperately, “Yes, yes– sir I’m here!”

But he couldn’t hear you, not without you pressing on its button in return.

“If you’re listening, I’m coming, okay? Mama and I are coming to get you.”

You let out a stuttered breath, the beginnings of a sob bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you. It was no use anyway. You felt deflated as you sank down into your chair. Tears welled in your eyes, building itself up like a dam.

Jake anxiously waited on the other line, expecting to hear something back from you, but all he heard was the thump of his own racing heartbeat resonating in his ear as time seemed to stand still. His lips trembled as he softly spoke again, “I love you, kid. You know that, right?”

But you didn’t. You didn’t since everyone arrived at Awal’tu and for months, this was the first time you’ve heard of it again. It made your chest tighten in response, stomach knotting.

Oh Eywa, you missed your father. Missed him dearly.

This one time he had told you he had loved you. This one time where you needed to hear it the most and you couldn’t say it back. It’s true that your father had stopped being affectionate– but you’ve grown and stopped being as loving as you were as a kid too. You will always be your parent’s child– your daddy’s girl.

“I love you too.”

Life was so much simpler back then, and if Jake had just spoken to you, he may have figured out that his words had more value than any presents he could find. He fears that he might be too late.

“We have to split up.”

“Split up?” Kiri shouts incredulously, holding onto Tuk tightly.

“There are at least three ships here, she has to be in at least one of them.”

“We’ll take the one from the south,” Ao’nung says, Tsireya quickly trailing behind. Kiri groans, knowing she couldn’t do anything but follow. Roxto followed her as they all nodded to each other, speaking in unsaid terms. Be safe. Please.

Lo’ak trots ahead, letting out another eager yip as they make their way towards the distant ship far up north. You had to be on one of them. You had to.

As he stealthily moves through the area, searching every nook and cranny, Lo’ak is determined to find you, leaving no stone unturned nor any corners checked. The lack of people around was suspicious and it made the atmosphere more eerie. As he scanned every cell, his eyes caught a battered Na’vi, head hung low– you. Quickly, he broke down the door with heavy locks.

“Lo’ak!”

“__!” He immediately rushes to you, taking off the restraints with brute force. Without a second thought, you engulfed him in a hug, nearly pushing him off his feet while he frantically searched for any serious injury, eyes swiftly scanning the cuts on your skin. “We have to go now.”

Both of you hurriedly try to exit the ship, steps heavily thumping across the metal floors. It was silent. Too silent. Like there hadn’t been a war at all. The ship was quiet, other than the crashing waves and footsteps. Not to mention the lack of recoms surrounding the area, you grew more and more nervous. “Where’s dad? He’s–”

“On another ship, we have to go.” He pulled you closer the edge where his Ilu had been waiting,

“Lo’ak, we’re not leaving him, are we?”

“Dad can handle it, I’m only here to take you home. Now please, come with me–”

“I know you don’t want to leave him too.” his lips drew into a thin line in response, immediately growing silent. His heart was thumping wildly, knowing that the decision was his to make. “Lo’ak, we can’t leave him.”

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“Run– run, go!” Lo’ak's call was still echoing in your head as you sprinted, bullets whizzing past in all directions. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins as you darted and weaved throughout the area, momentarily hiding behind a steel wall.

Both of you had been searching for Jake and everyone but despite your best efforts, the only thing you were ever able to find was more trouble. What was supposed to be a relatively straightforward endeavor had quickly become an arduous task. You feared for your life and your brother’s.

“We have to jump now, __.” He pulls you out from your thoughts, panting heavily.

“We haven’t found dad yet or anyone– they could be in danger!”

“Listen, I’m not about to lose you in another dumb decision of mine. We’re going, do you understand?” He tugs on your wrists tightly. The look on his face told you that his decision wasn’t open for any negotiation anymore– this was about you and your safety. You offer a solemn nod, feeling a knot forming in your chest as your frown deepens.

As the shots come to an end, the avatars begin to disperse, frantically searching for both of you. Lo'ak forcefully pulls you to your feet and dashes towards the edge ready to take a leap, but the ship lets out a sharp screech as it leans further and further downwards into the vast ocean, both of you caught completely off guard. Water quickly rushes up to bathe the deck in a sea of white froth and foam, its relentless waves rocks the boat back and forth so harshly that you fall to your knees.

Lo’ak frantically looks around for something to hold onto, but it all happens too quickly; just as his hands latch onto a railing, it snaps and he begins to tumble along with the current and down an open trapdoor. He quickly holds on to its rusty edge, “__!”

You immediately slide towards him, grabbing his wrist. “I got you, just hang on.” While your other hand clutched your bloodied side, you groaned as you felt the skin surrounding it stretch, ripping more and more as you tried to hold on. “Lo’ak, please.”

“I can’t– I can’t!” Both your grips are loosening and you choked out a sob, feeling absolutely helpless. You could feel it– his fingers slowly slipping from your wrist. Your heart hammered on your chest as you extended your other hand.

“Brother please, grab my other hand,”

Another wave crashes towards both of you, and in that moment your grip on his wrist slips. You can feel the panic rise within you as you shout out his name desperately. His body falls, water completely engulfing him.

Without any hesitation, you jump down after him.

You hastily scramble out of the water, eyes wide and scanning the wreckage that surrounds you for any sign of Lo'ak. All around you there is nothing but the ship itself, pushing you down with it. It loudly creaks once again, the sound vibrating off the walls.

You try to regain your composure– breathing slowly and steadying the beat of your heart, only for it to race yet again as another body emerges from the water, coughing violently.

“Lo’ak–!”

“I can’t find an exit.” He says, breathing heavily.

“I’ll go check again, you stay here.” The water was already rising and your frantic state wasn’t helping.

you said as the water level began to climb higher and higher. Your frantic state wasn’t helping either of your cause, but there was no time to think of that now. In order for the two of you to make it out alive, one of you had to remain calm and focused. You had to be just that– the bigger person. The big sister Lo’ak needs right now.

“No! You’re bleeding, I’ll go look.” He protests and you both exchange banters.

“I am your older sister, Lo’ak, listen to me– just let me do this.”

“I don’t care. You’re hurt already.”

“Lo’ak, don’t be so stubborn right now.”

“I’m a better swimmer than you!”

“Why are you being so stubborn, just stay here–!”

“Just let me do this for you, Neteyam!”

And that stuns you both.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He croaks, the words barely escaping his trembling lips. His guilt is palpable in the air as he hangs his head low in shame, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that is threatening to choke him. Lo’ak had to let it out now. Now that you’re here– now that you and him might never come out alive. “Maybe if I didn’t insist on coming there, we would still be back at home– with him. Maybe if I didn’t force everyone to come along, he would not have the need to save us.”

“Lo’ak, please..”

“But I did– I did, and now he’s gone. I lost him and I can’t lose you too,” You stayed there, like the water surrounding you was anchoring you on that very spot. You could only stare at him as he poured his every guilt. Your heart ached for Lo’ak– Lo’ak, your baby brother. Lo’ak who tried so desperately to be seen. “It’s my fault, __. I was just so jealous– so jealous that I forced you to join in because maybe then, you’d want to spend time with me too. I wanted what you had with Neteyam, what Kiri was to Tuk.”

“But I miss him, I miss my brother so bad.” Lo’ak continues to weep, tugging on his hair– hurting himself. “I hate that my body didn’t move towards you– towards him that night. Maybe then, I would’ve said goodbye. Maybe then, I would’ve told him I was sorry.”

You slowly swam to him, awkwardly taking his hands. Siblings were such a funny concept. They could say the harshest, most meanest thing– hurt you to an extent because they know you more than anyone else. But they would do anything– absolutely anything, just to keep you safe. Hell, would give a kidney if it means that you’d live. You miss Neteyam, terribly so, but does losing him make you less of a sister?

“I’m sorry, __. I’m sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but every time you looked at me, all I could see was him. I miss Neteyam. I miss home. I want to go home.”

“We’re going home, okay?” You pull him close in your arms, burying your head on the curve of his neck as you try to contain a sob. “I see you, brother.”

“I’ve been nothing but difficult.” You feel his breath hitch as he tries to steady his breathing, heartbeat slowing down. “I don’t like how everyone has become since he died.”

“Me too, Lo’ak. Me too.” You whisper, rubbing circles on his back. “I’m so sorry. I’m here now.”

As the two of you hold each other tightly, the water continues to rise around you with no sign of relenting. You both know that it will only be a matter of time until this ship finally gives in to its fate and sinks beneath the surface yet neither of you want to let go. There was something comforting with having Lo’ak near now that he had spoken of his troubles– something light.

“We’re going home.”

This was it, you thought, this is the end.

☆ mauve here! i know this has been long overdue ;( BUT FINALLY, IT'S HERE. don't really know if i should be adding another chapter or just stop with an open ending hahah hopefully this was painful enough because my brain is bleeding and i can't wait to start another series. -

please tell me how i did! i really enjoy interacting w my moots nd readers ;( it's like a reward (ALSO i'm sorry if i forgot to tag someone! some of the names don't really pop up too ;(

smooch!

tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnger @abbersreads @historygeekqueen @anxietydrogz @kau7itz @winxschester @1mawh0re @thefirst-ofus @tsoomie @wheeeelys @lunamhm565i @ayanelisa @sully-stick-together @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @jackiehollanderr @dreamsholdpowers @aimsro @violilaqrs

#mauve writes ☆#family angst #family feels #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #reader!sully

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