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#great grandmother & great granddaughter
haenels · 8 months
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BLASPHEMY™ Lady Margaret Beaufort (The White Queen, 2013) Mary Tudor (Becoming Elizabeth, 2022)
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shinishmermaid · 6 months
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DIONYSUS IS ARES AND APHRODITE'S GREAT GRANDSON?!
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krasivaa · 5 months
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~☆~🥹~☆~
Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna of Russia and her great-grandmother, Queen Louise of Denmark, circa 1896.
photo enchanced by me!!
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loudlyhappycupcake · 1 year
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Meteora with ghost soloria and ghost Justin @shironezuninja @magical-girl-techno-genius @cartoonfan21 @torkmadox20 @wispsshadow @banaiadrienn2 @untitled14360 @ilovetvtoons @wisefestivalloverpatrol @jj-the-hamster @jeffreybrosseau @wordgirl-reboot-eva @jikothemartian-z @bitter-yet-civilized @dumb-ass-biatch @misterygem
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elliebartlets · 2 months
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so much shit is going on with all sides of my family and I’m feeling very overwhelmed
#my grandfather is probably going to die within the year#and I walked in on my mom crying the other day about it#which made me sad and made it more real#cause it feels like it was a long time coming but also feels like it happened too fast#my great aunt has really bad problems with her hip and can’t get it replaced because she’s so old and had a stroke#so there’s a risk of putting her under anesthesia#and not only is she in so much pain and can barely move to eat or go to the bathroom#but she lives alone and her daughters who live near her won’t visit her!!!#she has a granddaughter who visits her the most but she’s also busy with work and her kid and stuff#I truly don’t know all the details but they’ve always been weird like the one daughter always accused her husband (her stepdad) of#“playing favorites” with the other daughter. and it’s like? get over yourself#I’d understand if my great aunt was a horrible mother or something but she doesn’t seem to be#plus she raised her granddaughter (one of her daughters kids) so the least that daughter could do is fucking visit her#idk I just feel so bad for her and hope she’s ok#plus there’s stuff going on with my brother which I’m not getting into on here#it’s just like all of this was slowly building up and it all crashed down at once#oh and my uncles mom died (not my grandmother or blood related to me at all) and my aunt will not go to the funeral cause my one uncles#sister is a total c u next Tuesday#like I met my uncles 2 sisters once 20+ years ago when I was in my aunts wedding#so I don’t remember them but everything I hear about them reminds me of the sopranos family#stereotypical new jersey Italian family that hates each other#like down to the siblings too. one sister who is insane and starts fights (Janice) and the other who is more “normal” who I don’t#hear about as much (baraba)#then you have my uncle who is very hot and cold like Tony soprano. plus possibly involved in the mafia or mob or something#I’m not overwhelmed by my uncles family/mom dying btw#it’s just some family drama that’s adding fuel to the fire of stuff happening#ANYWAY#breakdown/vent over! back to my assignments!#personal
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jayaorgana · 1 year
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HELLO I finished Lightsabers, as though I didn't already love these kids enough
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decadent-hag · 1 year
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Just reading the obituary of a relative who died in 1910 and feeling sad bc i have his eyes and nose and face shape
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cinnabargirl · 9 months
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My grandmother and my mother sometimes prepare recipes my great grandmother made and that's one of the direct links i have to a woman who was a teen during ww1 and survived the spanish flu and the spanish civil war
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farlydatau · 2 years
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Your Granddaughter My Granddaughter Taekwondo Grandpa - Grandma Blue T-Shirt
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theveryworstthing · 10 months
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life has been lifein’ haven’t been posting for a while but hopefully i’ll have stuff to post soon. 
without getting into the full rollercoaster of misery, health problems abound in my loved ones and every year for the last 3 years we’ve lost at least one family member. my gramma Rosezina died on July 1st after 83 years of being A Problem. her funeral was on the 8th during a day so hot that we couldn’t be at the graveside for more than a few minutes, fitting weather for a woman nicknamed Hot for her good looks and spicy temper. i loved her very much, i love her very much, and the emotional strain of everything that came after the Big Stroke fucked me up a little bit.
here’s one of my favorite stories about her, stop me if you’ve heard this one:
my gramma was schizophrenic, a fact i didn’t figure out until i was told by a family member at some time during my preteen or early teen years because the way schizophrenia was depicted on tv or movies was so different from what she was. she was an amazing quilter, gardener, cook, baker (i’ll never have a caramel cake that rivals hers), and general gold star deep country grandmother who was always sweet to me, her first born granddaughter, even when she stopped remembering who i was exactly in her later years. 
also, she never liked being told what to do.
also, also, she hung out with the devil for a while.
she said he’d just show up sometimes, the most beautiful, angelic, enchanting man you ever did see. he’d come to her when she was feeling overwhelmed, upset, or lonely, and offered words of comfort and a gentle listening ear. she had a hard life, and that comfort was very valuable to her even if it was coming from the devil, so over time he became her friend and she trusted him right up until the day he told her to kill her kids and free herself from all the problems constantly weighing her down. 
need i remind you, she did. not. like. being told what to do. (especially when the thing she’s being told to do is murdering her own children)
so of course, she told all her kids to walk up the road to my great gramma’s house, and when they were gone Hot dragged the couch the devil was sitting on outside into the front yard and set it on fire with him sitting on it. 
from what i was told he seemed very irritated but didn’t get up as she stared him down and watched him burn. 
afterwards some other family members put the fire out and she returned to her chores like nothing happened. as far as i know the devil never talked to her again.
and that’s why i grew up knowing that the, ‘the devil made me do it’ defense is some bullshit. if the devil is real he can’t make you do shit. he flounces off if told no (and set on fire) once. 
weak bitch. 
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5
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summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼
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“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”
“I won’t fail.” Not again. 
“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 
“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”
“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”
It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 
“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  
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Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 
No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 
Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 
And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 
This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.
Now, he had nothing. 
Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 
Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 
Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 
No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 
Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 
Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 
Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 
Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.
Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 
The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   
Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”
Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 
He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”
Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 
“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”
Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 
Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 
Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”
Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“
“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 
Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”
His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  
“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”
Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”
“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.
Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”
But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”
Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”
Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”
“Rest.” 
“But—”
“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”
God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”
“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”
Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”
“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.
Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 
“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”
There it is.
Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 
“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”
Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”
“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”
‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”
“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 
And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 
He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 
The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.
The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 
The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 
The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 
The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  
The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.
And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 
All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 
“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”
He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 
Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 
Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 
If he failed, this would be it. 
“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 
He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 
“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 
From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 
Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 
He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 
He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 
A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 
“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 
He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”
Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.
Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 
“I see you.”
The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 
The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.
Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  
The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 
Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 
He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 
“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”
So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 
It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  
That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.
He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 
“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 
The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”
“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 
“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 
Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 
You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 
In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 
“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”
Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”
But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”
You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”
“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”
“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”
“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”
In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 
“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 
Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”
“That’s a lie.”
Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”
“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”
“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 
You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”
“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”
You deadpanned. “But I always do.”
“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”
“That’s not—”
“Sweetheart.” 
“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”
“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”
“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”
“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”
You avoided eye contact. 
Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”
You murmured. “Okay.”
“Are we clear?”
You murmured once more. “Yeah.”
“Repeat it, then.”
There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”
“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”
You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”
“Dad will never hate you.”
Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”
“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”
“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”
“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”
“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 
“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 
The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”
You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”
“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”
You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”
“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”
The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”
A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”
“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”
“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”
“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 
“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”
“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”
That made him pause. “Jack?”
“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”
He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”
“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 
“Oh you little shit—” 
“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”
“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”
“Jackiri—”
“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”
“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”
“Oh, for sure.” 
“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”
“All people, of course.”
“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 
“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”
“Jack of All Trades.”
“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”
“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”
“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”
You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 
But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 
Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 
A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 
Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 
He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 
Once again. 
You will only have one chance. 
“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”
Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  
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roxygen22 · 3 months
Text
FAMILY BUSINESS
"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series
Willy was absolutely smitten by his "little cocoa bean," Benjamin. You called him Ben for short, but Willy affectionately called him Bean. He stayed home from the factory for a bit to help you recover and bond with the baby. He made the most of his limited time off doting on you both. Unless Ben was feeding, he was in Willy's arms. He was truly a devoted, loving father and husband.
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Willy went back to work when Ben was about three weeks old. It was an adjustment to be alone with the baby all day, but it made Willy's returns in the evening all the more sweeter. After about six months, he came home with an idea.
"Now that he is a little older and more sturdy, why don't I take Bean with me to work one or two days a week so that you can have some time to yourself?" Willy not-so-secretly struggled going back to work, often lamenting how much he missed you both, but he knew he had to provide for his family.
"Oh my. I love the concept, but how are you going to handle business or have your hands free to make chocolate?" you asked as it took both of your hands to keep Ben from launching himself out of your lap to get to his papa.
"Easy!" Willy exclaimed as he scooped up the baby. "I saw Lottie today, and she had little Georgie tied to her chest with a wrap. Then it clicked - I could do that, too! Besides, babies are good for business! He's so cute, he'll draw a crowd," he mused as he squished his nose against Ben's chubby cheek, then turned to you with a pouty lip.
"I guess we could give it a try. Maybe start with a half day?" you said, excited about the potential but nervous about its execution. You loved your husband, but you were not sure he fully understood what he was in for. You did, however, always admire his determination to get what he wanted in life, even if he resorted to playing on your sympathies with a pout.
"Great! I already went by the store to get fabric to make a sling." You shook your head fondly and went about your evening routine.
Thanks to his mamma's teachings, Willy was handy with a needle and thread. A couple of nights later, his contraption was ready for testing at home. Ben was quite cozy snuggled up on his father's chest, gently babbling while Willy washed the dishes after dinner. Everything was going swimmingly. "Tomorrow would be a good day to try this out for real," he said. "I don't have any business meetings, so I'll just be splitting my time between the stores and the factory."
"Ok," you said tentatively. "I'll get his bag ready and write down his daytime schedule." The next morning, you loaded Willy down with everything he would need - extra clothes for both father and son, burp cloths, bottles, diapering supplies, etc. "So he'll need to eat again in a couple of hours. That will probably be when he needs another diaper change. And he'll need to go down for a na..."
Willy put a hand on your arm to interrupt you, rubbing up and down to calm your nerves. "I've got this. Okay? I want you to focus on enjoying your alone time." Admittedly, you were looking forward to a chance to curl up with a good book without intertuption for a few hours.
"Alright, Bean, ready for some adventure?" The baby cooed and raspberried spit all over Willy's hand. "I'll take that as a yes. Allons-y! Wave bye to mamma!"
"Bye bye, my boys. Have a good day!" You stood at the front door and waved them off.
<><><><>
Willy stopped first at his flagship store in the Galeries Gourmet to ensure things were in order. Mrs. Pennington, a regular customer always in the company of her granddaughter, spotted the chocolatier. "Well, hello there, Mrs. Pennington, Miss Hannah," he greeted and tipped his hat at the ladies. "Are you finding everything okay?"
"Indeed, Mr. Wonka. Thank you," the grandmother smiled. "And who is this handsome little one?" Ben babbled and cooed.
"This is my son, Bean. I mean, Benjamin," Willy replied with a proud smile.
"Oh, how lovely. Learning the family business early, eh?"
"As my mamma said, 'It's not the chocolate that matters. It's the people you share it with.'"
"I remember when my children were that little. Soak it up, Mr. Wonka. It doesn't last long." She patted the baby on the cheek and then continued her shopping. Willy turned around to wipe away a tear and kiss his son on the head.
Ben seemed to enjoy interacting with customers, smiling at their baby talk and staring around the store with wide eyes. But after a couple of hours, he started to fuss. The cashier was on break, so Willy was working the register, bouncing the baby in an attempt to silence his whimpers until he could break away to make a bottle. "Would you like your change spendable or edible?" He practically had to shout at the customers to be heard over Ben's fussing. Luckily the cashier came back before fussing became screaming.
"Okay, Bean, give me just a second and we'll silence those tummy grumbles," he said as he made his way to the stockroom. He deftly prepped a bottle and freed the baby from the sling. Very soon, Ben was reclining in Willy's arms and greedily sucking down a bottle. "See, I told your mamma I've got this."
<><><><>
Once Ben was fed and changed, Willy packed up the diaper bag and set out for the factory. Lulled by his father's swaying, Ben stayed asleep for a good while even after being transferred into the bassinet Willy had set up in his office. Inventing and chocolate making weren't exactly quiet endeavors, so Willy caught up on a bit of bookkeeping instead.
Ben eventually started stirring, alerting Willy with his soft coos. "Hi, sleepy head. Are you ready to go make some chocolate?" Willy set him back in the sling and made his way to the Idea Lab. Feeling refreshed from his nap, the little one was very alert, so Willy thought it would be fun to make this an interactive experience.
"Alright, Bean, I need to come up with something new, and you're going to help me," Willy announced while holding up two jars. "Which jar should I start with?" Of course, Ben's attention was grabbed by the brighest color of the two. "Ooh, essence of rainbow. Good call. What next?" he asked, continuing to hold up two jars at a time for the baby to choose from until he gathered enough.
Willy added the ingredients to his travel factory, which he still used for small batch experiments. Ben stared in wonder as the brightly colored liquids flowing down the spiral tube and giggled at the production noises. Willy was busy pressing buttons and pulling levers when the first chocolates came out of the machine and didn't pay close enough attention to Ben's stray hands. Willy looked down to see the baby's tiny hand grabbing and mashing melted chocolate into the fabric of the sling, his hair, and both of their shirts.
"Well, now I understand why your mother sent spare clothes for both of us." He wiped chocolate off his son's cheek with a finger and licked it. "Tastes good, though! I need to write that concoction down."
<><><><>
You were sitting on the couch with your book when Willy came home at lunchtime. Both boys and even their spare clothes were covered in chocolate. You had to stifle a giggle as you tried to figure out how to best grab the sticky baby without getting covered yourself.
Willy gave you a tired look but also huffed a quiet laugh. "I may have overestimated my ability to keep things under control. I don't know how you get anything done, my sweet. I always knew you were amazing, but you must have superhuman powers."
"Perhaps," you winked as you stripped Ben out of his clothes and started rinsing him off in the sink. "Are you sure you still want to make this a regular occurrence?"
"I would do it again in a heartbeat. But not before I have a bath."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
MASTERLIST
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mochinek0 · 4 months
Text
Family Secrets
Damian couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen pieces of that costume when he lived in the League, but never did he expect to see his mother, disguised, in Paris! He carefully kept an eye on her as she walked into a bakery. He felt his own breath hitch as a young girl came and hugged her.
"Nonna!" she cried.
'Grandmother?'
"Hello, My Leetle Fairy." his mother replied, hugging her back.
"Are you having fun on your travels?" the girl questioned, "Where did you go this time?"
"Egypt." his mother declared.
The girl smiled, "Did you see the pyramids?"
His mother brought out a keychain of a pyramid and handed it to the girl.
"It's great!" the girl smiled, "I'll keep it on my desk so when I see it, I can think of you."
"I wish you could come with me." the disguised Talia declared.
"Maybe when I'm older?" the young girl answered.
Talia tapped the young girl's nose, "Possibly, but we know very well how hard you work."
"Mom!" announced a man, who seemed the size of Bane, "How are you?"
Damian watched on in shock. He was aware that his mother was much older than she appeared. Hearing someone around his father's age, refer to his mother as a maternal figure was unsettling.
"I'm fine, Tom." she answered.
"Would you like to put your bag down and rest?" he asked.
"Nonsense." his mother replied, "I may look older, but I'm fine. I wanted to see if Marinetta would like to take a ride around the city with me."
"Yes!" the girl cried.
Damian watched as they both got on a motorcycle and drove off.
It took awhile, but Damian finally spotted them near the Seine, eating ice cream. The girl was looking down at something, in her lap. His mother's eyes connected with his and he knew he had made her.
"I'll be right back." Gina spoke, kissing Marinette on the head.
Gina walked in Damian's direction.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Do you plan to kidnap her, Mother?" Damian questioned.
"Of course not!" Gina snapped.
"Who is she?" he asked.
Talia sighed, "Your niece; she's your age."
"So the man who called you mother-"Damian began.
"Your grandfather wanted me out of the way. He was looking for a male successor to take over." Talia began to explain, "He kicked me out of the League, briefly, and I had some semblance of a normal life. I fell in love with a baker. Tom is our son, before I ever met your father. Essentially, he is your older brother."
She sighed, "Everyhting was fine and I was happy, until he sent someone to exterminate us. Before I killed him, I learned my death was a test. Kill me and become successor to the League. I returned with his head and threw it at your grandfather's feet. He looked at me and said he would allow me back on one condition."
"What was it?" Damian asked.
"I had to leave my family." she admitted, "I said I understood and would be back in three months. I knew he would never stop coming after us."
"Why three months?" her son questioned, "You were already there. Did they not know of the League?"
"Tom was getting married and no, my family knew nothing about the League. I returned and told my family I would be 'traveling in my old age'. A few years after he got married, I came back to a three year old granddaughter. Your grandfather found out and forbid my return."
"Grandfather is dead." Damian spoke.-changing subject
"I've been stopping in more." she declared, "They aren't like us. They're not like your father. They know nothing about my past, aside from divorcing a man, who made me happy. I tell them I'm traveling around the word. I wear a wig and makeup. At some point, I will have to stop visiting all together since anyone else will grow old and pass on. The League........you lose sense of time when there. Two years ago, I thought she was still three. She was turning fourteen."
"What about the man?" her son asked.
Talia smiled, "Reminds me of your grandfather, actually. He's all about 'traditions', so perhaps it was for the best."
"Nonna!" Marinette cried out.
"Please, Damian, leave them alone." his mother whispered.
Damian watched as his mother walked away. He had never known her to beg for something.
"My Leetle Fairy, are you ready to go back home?" Gina asked, "Do you have new inspiration for your designs? I can't wait to see the clothes you create this time."
Damian watched as the girl put her sketchbook away.
'Clothes? Designs?'
He smiled softly. She was an artist, like him. He watched as his mother got on the motorcycle with his niece. What surprised him was seeing his niece glare at him. Damian chuckled.
'Mother may not see it, but she is a lot like them. A little fairy.'
"Damian, a Fairy is someone who helps people who are lost in the dark. It's not always in a literal sense; it can be figurative."
The young Al-Ghul turned and walked in the opposite direction.
'Fairy is a suitable name for my niece. I wonder how Mother would feel learning her true nature? A Fae who lures in her prey.'
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marymary-diva17 · 3 months
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Heeeyyy it's been a while since I've been here, but i got another idea.
So you remember me telling about the trope of readee being hated and suxh by the sully, well, instead of the usual 'sad reader wanting to fit in the family and gets hurt in the process', i actually thought of a reader who is overly calm and very strategic and honestly doesn't care about the fact that her family hates her, cause she spends more time with her friends and such and only comes when it's an emergency. She's also better than Neteyam at being a warrior that she trained many new warriors and has a very high spiritual connection with eywa, even more than Kiri
sully family x sister/daughter
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The sully family had live by two quotes one of them being " sully stick together" and second on being " that their family was a fortress" well that was all true but false. There was one family member that didn't get the same love and treatment like all the other children within the family and outside of the family. That family member is Jake and neytiri daughter, who never seem to with over her parents and even her siblings along with the rest of the clan. A child who does not get love and care will soon grow up by themselves and becoming independent, and might not return love and care to those who never gave it to them.
y/n " ........" you soon rolled out of bed way before any of your siblings wake up, even before your parents as well. This is the norm for you from such a young age you learned to stay out of your family way.
y/n " good morning grandmother" you soon went to the healer hut to see your grandmother as she was getting ready for the day.
mo'at " hello my granddaughter you are here early"
y/n " well it best if I stay out of toruk makto way along with neytiri as well" mo'at was the only few people who cared for the child, and over time grow dislike towards Jake and neytiri for their treatment of their daughter.
mo'at " yes it seems like goes well for you when you keep out of their way along with majority of the clan"
y/n " well I do stay around to make sure everyone is safe I even watch over tuk and younger kids when they play, far from their mothers watch but make sure not to get caught"
mo'at " you are might warrior my child and pure of heart as well"
y/n " well I only have a few more years of being a teen until I'm an adult and toruk makto will tell me to leave or kick me out"
mo'at " well you always have a place in my home my child"
y/n " thank you grandmother I might stay her a bit longer when I'm older then leave to seek out more of our world as eywa has been calling me"
mo'at " follow your heart my dear" you smile at your grandmother the happy mood had been changed, when the other healers had arrived young and old but none of them set towards the hut.
mo'at " don't stand there like fools come we have to get ready for the day"
y/n " it best if I take my leave grandmother my present make everyone uncomfortable"
mo'at " dear you can stay your sisters will be coming for thier lessons, and I will love you to join them"
y/n " I will like to honor your wish but that will lead to trouble for you grandmother, with our mighty leader I will see you later on" you bid your grandmother goodbye and soon left the hut, getting glares and hearing whispers but you didn't care you stopped care many years ago.
y/n " sisters good morning"
kiri "morning y/n"
tuk " big sister good morning I have missed you ... oh I mean good morning y/n" you sighed as tuk had been the only sibling to call you sister, but it seems like Jake and neytiri actions and words had finally made her start calling you sister.
tuk " are you here to help grandmother and learn with us"
tuk " that not fair or nice"
y/n " it okay little one I understand well I shouldn't hold you all up anymore, I pray to the great mother to watch over all three of you" the duo said nothing else as they soon walked away from you, but it seems like they felt bad about their behavior. You were walking around the village trying to get somewhere.
y/n " ......" you had realized you had forgotten something that home, and soon ran back to get it. You soon reached the home and went to your bed and grabbed it, the home smells like breakfast meaning the family had morning meal together. You had sighed it was normal for you to not have meals with your family at home.
y/n " time to get going" you had grabbed your armband and soon put it on before you walked out of your home, you soon made your way through the village once again.
navi man " there that girl again"
navi women " I still can't believe she toruk makto daughter she nothing like her parents or siblings, even kiri a better daughter then her"
navi man 2 " I have heard rumors that toruk makto has plans to send to live on her own"
navi women " well I heard him and neytiri were trying to find a boy to become her mate, they were given any man a good offer to be with her" you had gotten use to hearing all the hate and rumors made about you, over time when you were younger you tried you best to prove you were good enough but soon stopped over time. The feeling of not caring about other had started when you become 13 and stayed that way since then.
Jake " if we hunt on these grounds we will be able to bring back a good hunt" you soon came across Jake and his hunting group as he had your brothers and spider with him.
y/n " ........" one of the warriors had noticed you and soon whispered something to the group, as everyone soon looked at you.
Jake " y/n you are wake you were not up when we served morning meal, your mother works hard on these meals it rude to miss them"
y/n " I'm sorry sir but something came up that morning and I went to meet with grandmother"
Jake " sure whatever just stay out of trouble I don't need you causing anymore trouble"
y/n " yes sir"
lo'ak " hey sis well dad giving you the same lecture over and over again, when are you going to learn"
y/n " when are you going to stop being so hothead brother"
spider " haha she got you good bro"
neteyam " enough the people are watching stop picking on him y/n it rude"
y/n " what he started it"
neteyam " well you need to be the better person dad is stress enough he doesn't need more work about you, and have you been practicing you skills .... you know how dad and mom are"
y/n " I ....."
neytiri " yes have you been training or act like your child your younger sister has better skills then you"
neteyam " mom"
y/n " yes I have been practicing ma'am"
neytiri " not enough if you haven't pass the test like your brother"
y/n " I'm doing my best that all I can say"
Jake " enough y/n I and your mother have more important stuff to deal with verse your failing to caught up with the family .... just go and stay out of the way of everyone and everything" you didn't say anything else as you soon walked away. Your brother and spider said nothing else, even tsutey who was there said nothing as well.
norm " hey there kiddo off again"
y/n " yes same as usual"
max " had another fight with your dad again and mom"
y/n " yes it seems like I'm not enough for Jake sully and neytiri, always blaming me for stuff like some of the others and always judging me"
norm " he does care"
y/n " stopping lying we all know that false norm he doesn't care and he will never care" norm and max along with some other humans knew that was true and hate how you were treated, but they couldn't say and do that much unless they wish to start trouble with the clan.
max " you know one day you will do something amazing kid"
y/n " thank you max well I'm going off if you need Jake sully he about to leave with his hunting party along, with my brother and spider" you soon ran off getting far away from home tree and soon calling your ikran, she was not allowed to stay with the others because she looked different and was not wanted around.
y/n " come on girl lets go for a flight and to see what we will happen today" you soon took off on your ikran and started flying around the skies, feeling for free and happy. After some travel you soon reached a part the end of the forest and where the sea began. This was so a beautiful place.
y/n " ........" you were walking around the area exploring everything and having a bright smile on your face. Then you felt someone place their hands on your waist.
y/n " ahhh kawwney" you had turned around to see you friend kawwney standing there, he soon smirked at you. As he soon backed away from you and smiled.
kawwney " hello ma y/n I was waiting for your arrival"
y/n " well I'm help to me here it better then being at home right now" kawwney had become your friend many years ago when you both of you were small. He was not from the forest he was from reef clan the metkayaian, you had meet him when you were with your grandmother on trip and kawwney was with his mom. After that day the both of you had become the best of friends.
Kawwney " almsot there hold it like that ... okay now fire the spear" you soon fire the spear and soon hit the target as kawwney had cheered for you.
kawwney " good job you are doing a well job with using a spear and your breathing as well"
y/n " thank you"
kawwney “ what the matter”
y/n “ family problems once again” kawwney soon sighed he knew you didn’t have, a good relationship with your parents. He really didn't like your parents and clan for their treatment of you, and he really wished to do anything to make your life better.
Kawwney “ y/n you are perfect no matter what they have to say or do, they are blind fools for treating you like this”
Y/n “ thank you kawwney there are whispers going around that Jake will kick me out or true to marry to off not anyone who will take the offer”
kawwney “ I will take the offer or even he does kick you out if you leave come join my clan, out of all forest Navi we have seen we only likes a few … you make those names of people we like even my father likes you and wishes to have you stay with us”
y/n “ thank you kawwney you will make a great leader one day and bring pride to your clan and people”
kawweny “ thanks you and one day you will make a great tshiak and leader, as well maybe you can rule by my side as well”
kawwney “ here a gift my dear a necklace I made for you perfect for you, and it will symbolize our bond” you smile as kawwney as he place the necklace around your neck, kawwney soon pulled your closer to him not caring who saw them.
later at night
y/n " ......." you soon had arrived home after being gone all day with your friends having a fun time and practicing as well, you heard your family laughing and talking. Once she had stepped into the home everything had become silent as everyone looked at her.
Jake " it seems like you have decided to come home after all"
y/n " yes sir I was out doing some practice"
Jake " that seems like a bunch of lies young lady"
y/n " ........."
Jake " you know you will soon be an adult you will need to make, the right decision if you wish to have a place in the clan and family" you didn't say anything as you nodded your head.
neytiri " if you can't be a hunter then lets hope you can do something else for the clan and family, or maybe your father and brother can find you a good match to strengthen the family and clan" your siblings stay quite as they watched your parents speak to you.
Jake " y/n you can't stay act like a child for the rest of your life, soon you will have to grow up and become an adult and give up your childish for once and a while"
y/n " yes sir"
Jake " good now this conversation is over with I hope you will take I and your mother words to heart" you stayed silent you knew the day will come when your family will have to make the decisions, to allow you to stay in the family of to have you leave. You had taken some soon went to bed to stay out of your family happy moment together, you soon thought about the words Jake will say " sully stick together" and " that our family is a fortress". You soon scoffed at those words they were false words coming from a man that has failed to be father to his daughter. When the time will come you will make the decisions you want that will mean no longer being a sully, even if it mean parting some the life she had live for so many years but maybe it was time for some change in her life.
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exercise-of-trust · 3 months
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i didn't realize until i was pretty much done that this is basically just arwen's red-and-blue dress from the movies with more fiddly bits but. oh well. like great-great-grandmother, like great-great-granddaughter ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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testrella · 3 months
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you're my religion priest! s. geto x f!reader pt.1→pt.2
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synopsis: y/n moved into a small and tight knit town to take care of her elderly grandmother. what happens when she attends a sermon with her grandmother, and finds herself lusting over someone she cannot have.
fandom: jujutsu kaisen ⌗ priest suguru geto x female reader⌗ modern au content warnings: mild cursing, smut, head (giving), religious themes(?), slight degrading at the end, angst(?) public sex, NSFW.
author's note: over 11k words, u guys have fun
“..in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. amen.”
father geto finishes off the sermon with the routine prayer. he takes the opportunity being on stage to scan the loyal audience. it was the regular, older people he preaches to. the same people who boast about him being so devoted to God at such a young age. how that when they were his age, they were off sinning. he thinks about the constant praises about being a young devoted follower, but it immediately stops when he sees her. 
a young lady, who seemed to be around the same age as him, sitting in the very back with an elderly woman. even though she was dressed as modestly as possible, the black floor length dress immersed your body in all the right places.
when did he allow his immoral thoughts come to mind
 “oh father! you must meet mrs. johnson’s granddaughter- maybe you can convince her to turn to God.” an elder of the church whispered to the priest. she gently pulled him to the side, off of the stage. 
“as you must have heard by now, edith’s grandbaby is out of control. rumor has it that she’s been caught using multiple different contraband, and premarital sex! can you believe edith would allow this to go on for so long?!”
geto mentally sighs, gossiping was always an issue at church. especially since it was located in a very small town, there wasn't much to talk about. when you were new to town, the locals went wild. fabricating very detail of your life, and spouting that nonsense through their teeth.
“with respect dear mary, the scripture speaks strongly against gossip. i’ll talk to the young lady, but please watch yourself. for there is no greater sin than sin.”
she nods while looking down, unable to meet geto’s gaze. too embarrassed to voice her concern furthermore, she mutters “yes father, please forgive me.”
“i am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness, ask the man above. now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll introduce myself to the newest member of our church.” he smiles gracefully before making his way towards mrs. johnson and her ‘scandalous’ granddaughter. 
he takes small steps towards you, puffing his chest out as he walks with a sense of pride. sure you were a pretty girl, but he was only interested to guide you through your religious journey. 
“father geto, i introduce you to my granddaughter. this is y/n. she’s only 20, and she recently moved into town to take care of me. isn’t she the kindest?”
he loses his train of thought. he's unable to bring himself to utter a single word. you were much more gorgeous up-close. if he were to describe your beauty, he’d be too overwhelmed, and wouldn’t know where to start. maybe he’d start with the way your nose fits your face perfectly. or, how your smile molded perfectly with your faint smile lines. 
geto snaps out of his trance, and quickly introduces himself. 
“i’m father geto. welcome to this church, i hope your stay has been great so far.” he purred. 
you squint your eyes at him. almost as if you already knew the rumors going around. nonetheless, you shake his hand. 
“like my grandma said, i’m y/n. i do hope we cross paths alone in the future.”
he blushes from the way you shaked his hand, but also put your other hand on his. solidifying the handshake more than it needed too. not only that, the last comment you made. crossing paths.. alone?
“my confessional booth is always open before my sermon, and at 9 PM on sundays. if that’s what you mean of course.” 
you puff your chest out and let out a dramatic sigh. taking in your arms, and letting them rest to your side, you open your mouth to speak. he stares at your lips, refusing to make eye contact.
“the sermon did end, i guess i’ll have to see you later tonight.” you assured him before walking over to your grandmother who made conversation with someone else. he watched you walk away, allowing himself to sneak a peek from behind. 
later that day, geto was having lunch. he finds himself unable to focus on his best friend's story, the words going in one ear and out the other. all the plays in his mind is you, and what you could possibly up to.
“satoru, i think i was seduced today after my sermon.” he spilled out, no longer able to contain his thoughts. 
“gross! how old was she? 50? 69? HA, get it? 69?” 
geto rolls his eyes at the blue eyed ‘man’ who acted immaturely any chance he got. maybe he really should have kept his thoughts to himself. it was better than trying to converse it with an actual man-child.
“goodness satoru, no. she was a few years younger than me. 4 years to be exact. she’s one of the elder’s granddaughter, and the way she spoke to me made me feel like i was sinning. i didn’t even do anything!”
“well..”
his eyebrow quirks as satoru began his sentence. 
“did she have big tits?” 
geto’s face quickly turned from curiosity to disgust. he abruptly stood up from the table, placing both hands on it for support, and got all up in satoru’s face.
“how could you ever speak so unashamedly about a lady like that?! let alone speak like that in front of a priest!”
“well forgive me father, i didn’t mean to offend you and your girlfriend,” satoru said sarcastically while putting his hands up defensively. “i’ve said worse, and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. she must’ve had big tits for you to go all preacher mode on me.“  
as much as geto didn’t want to admit it, satoru was right. there were many time's geto allowed the white haired man to say the most diabolical stuff known to man. even listening when satoru would describe women’s bodies in detail and occasionally his one night stands. why was this any different?
“excuse me, is that you father?” 
there is was.
the seductive voice he met only hours ago. both boys slowly turn their heads to the h/c girl standing right in front of them. their eyes met with the beauty talked about earlier. only now you were wearing a shorter version of the dress you wore earlier. 
“m-miss. y/n? i’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. what brings you here?” 
you only acknowledge one of the two men in front of her, and of course it was geto. your eyes met his, and never shifted away. it was almost like a dance of temptation, daring him to do further than just eye contact. the dark aura coming from you was overwhelming him, or maybe it was just your strong perfume. 
“i apologize for the disruption, father geto. my grandma asked me to run some errands. i guess i’ll have to speak with you later tonight.“ 
before geto could get a word in, you once again walk off. just like before, he once again glances down there. 
forgive me Lord, for i have sinned. 
“dude what the fuck was that..” the white haired man questioned. he also noticed the thick tension that was stirred by non other than you.
“i d-don’t know. i cannot see her tonight. i’m scared she might tempt me into.. into doing something that’s against the scripture.”
he now finds himself in the confessional booth, anxiously waiting for your arrival. it was currently 9:47 PM, you were late. it did not help his anxiety at all. he’d give you until 10:15 for you to arrive. anything later would have to just be scheduled on another sunday. 
he lets out a deep breath before he hears the clattering of heels. geto takes a peak out of his curtain only to be met with a sultry gaze. he quickly closes off his curtain, and subconsciously wipes his sweaty palms on his lap. this was like any other confessional, there was nothing to be conspicuous. 
“father geto? are you there?“ you ask in a voice just above a whisper. 
geto swallows whatever was in his mouth before speaking.
 “of course i am.“ 
“ahem, forgive me father. i have sinned since i first moved into this town. actually, i sinned today after the sermon.“ 
he stays silent. he’s tempted to ask what you’ve done, and if it possibly had something to do with him. but you answer his unspoken questions before he can think about it for too long.
“before moving into this lovely town, my grandmother sent me a picture of her priest. goodness, i didn’t know what to do with myself.“ 
he was determined to stay stoic, and not to speak unless it was to say a prayer. but her hushed voice and the strong tension made it difficult. the air seemed to thicken every time she finished a sentence. geto couldn’t escape your magnetic pull of lust.
“a-and if i may ask, what did you do to deal with your problem?”
“i couldn’t resist myself. after i saw the photo of him, i began to have lewd thoughts. every night leading up to my departure, i’d touch myself thinking about him. then..”
she lets out a small moan, but geto would describe it as a small whine. now he was breathing heavily as his boxers started to tighten up. there was no way he could get hard in the church. it was sinful. but he was here to help you, and allowed you to continue.
“i met him today. after the sermon i started using objects to make myself feel satisfied. but it was nothing compared to his large hands shaking my hand. i can only imagine him using his hands going inside of me instead of holding a bible. even now, i cannot resist his voice..” you confessed as heavy breathing came from your end. 
“..come over to my side dear. let me help you.” he whispered.
you waste no time he notes from the sounds coming from the other side. your heels clacked once or twice before you pulled the curtain from his side. 
he studies your face very carefully. there was a light red tint spreading across your cheeks, and your ears were bright red. his eyes then wander down to your very revealing shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. the shirt was accompanied by a matching skirt, a very, VERY, short skirt.
you walk into the tight fitting booth. before he can get his hands on you, you kneel down in between his legs. your pretty little head lays on his left thigh.
“forgive me father. how can i ever make you forgive me for my sins?” you lift your head and your hands start to wander on the edge of his pants. “tell me father, there must be a way..”
geto feels a bead of sweat going down his forehead. there were many times that grandparents introduced their grandchildren to him, in hopes they get married. or, when satoru would convince him to agree to a blind date. his answer of rejection was always the same. 
‘i am devoted to the man above, i musn’t be distracted.’ 
where was his reasoning of rejection when he watches you pull both his pants and undergarments off? 
you grab his dick and painfully slowly lick the tip of it. leaving any pre-cum on his tip, now in your mouth. a slight moan leaves his mouth. this was a pleasure that he’s never experienced before. devoting all 24 years of his life to God has never brought this much fulfilment. 
where was his reasoning of rejection when you put his whole dick in your mouth without any hesitation?
your sudden move of deep throating him caught him off guard. he’s now holding your head in a gentle manner, as gentle as he can be. geto is lost at words, he can only moan uncontrollably while playing with your hair. the only thing he can fixate his eyes on was your beautiful hair getting tangled into his fingers. 
where was his reasoning when you made him finish in under five minutes even though it felt like an eternity for him?
you continue to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks for a better suction. your hands wander down to his balls, giving it a small massage. you're not sure what you did right, but it worked. geto was now praising your name instead of the lord’s. he feels an unfamiliar knot unwinding itself. 
“y/n.. please i feel..” he lets out a breathy moan instead of finishing his sentence. his eyes shut close to full enjoy the euphoric feeling. why did he want to reject your advances in the first place? he can't seem to remember. 
“father..” you cooed while taking off his shirt. of course, the hot pastor with a big dick was also very nicely built.
“oh geto, why do you hide this from me?”
your hands wander his chest then it starts to follow his happy trail. your movement was haltered when he reached out for your chest.
“the same could be said for yourself. show yourself to me, please. i beg.”
his eyes looked like a puppy who had been kicked. there was no sane woman in the world who would say no to his violet eyes. your hand then reaches out for his, and then place his hand on the hem of your shirt.
“take it off for me, father geto.”
being enchanted with your hypnotic gaze, it drew him like a moth to a flame. he lifted your shirt, taking your bra off as well, and stared with admiration. you had an art of seduction that was compared to no other. he watches you sit on his lap as you lift your skirt. 
this is sin. he was sinning. 
but he didn’t stop you as you sat slowly onto his dick, moaning in joy. he watches you go up and down painfully slow.
“c-can you go a little faster..?“ he moaned into your ear. being too embarrassed by his request, he buries himself on the side of your neck. taking in your scent, leaving small pecks on the spots you sprayed perfume. 
“you’re t-too big geto~” you whined into his ear before you attached your lips onto his. 
he was an inexperienced kisser. an inexperienced everything actually. it was easy for you to take the lead by biting onto his bottom lip. he opened his mouth to let out a small whine of pain and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue in. 
you feel yourself juices slide down your thigh onto geto’s lap as you continue to bounce on his dick. large hands start groping your ass, giving you a smack on one of your cheeks. you yelp in response. it was unexpected from a priest.
“father, use me. be as rough as you want with me.” your hands start undoing his bun, turning his hair into a disheveled mess. 
“i-i shouldn't be so mmm- rough on you.” 
you felt honored by his insistence on being so gentle. his grip on your waist tells you a different story. it was obvious he wanted to go faster than the pace you set.
“please geto, for me at least.”
oh, how could he ever deny your requests? 
his grip on your waist tightens as he lifts you up and rams into you. all pent up sexual frustrations he’s ever had in the past 24 years are being taken out on you. throughout the heavens and earth, you were his only sole purpose in life. the way you took him in so good without any complaints was proof enough. 
marks form on his shoulder and back from the scratches you were leaving. it was the only way you could hold yourself up. if not, you’d fall right into his arms while he’d continue to show no mercy on your pussy. 
geto was starting to feel what he felt earlier when you were in between his legs. his eyes gaze at yours, and gets a site he’d never unsee. small tears started forming, threatening to leave your eyes. your mouth agape as one hand held onto his shoulder, the other groping yourself.
“father geto, i-i’m ahh, i’m so close~”
on sync, the both of you came at the very same time.
geto found it more ironic than disgust when he saw the scene unfold. priest of six years, never had a temptation once in those six years. his lap was now covered in cum from not only his but the new girl in town. the new girl who easily seduced him
“forgive us lord, for the father and i have sinned.” you purred right into his ear, almost biting it. 
he massages your waist before finally putting you on your two feet. you're barely able to stand up without the support of the wall.
"y/n, we can never do this again. never speak to me unless it's about my sermon."
now it was his turn to leave before you could get a word in. he pulls his pants up and swiftly puts his shirt back on.
"you were sent by the devil, and i've failed my lord. stay far away from me you whore."
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