#but she also cares about everyone!! she's a healer and wants to understand and help others!!

[sugar-konpeito]

i feel like sailor moon fandom sanitizes usagi way too much. like her whole point (in the anime at least) is that she's a massive unhinged mess who causes really big issues but is ultimately kind

[illycanary]

Katara's Story Is A Tragedy and It's Not An Accident

I was a teenaged girl when Avatar: The Last Airbender aired on Nickelodeon—the group that the show’s creators unintentionally hit while they were aiming for the younger, maler demographic. Nevermind that we’re the reason the show’s popularity caught fire and has endured for two decades; we weren’t the audience Mike and Bryan wanted. And by golly, were they going to make sure we knew it. They’ve been making sure we know it with every snide comment and addendum they’ve made to the story for the last twenty years.

For many of us girls who were raised in the nineties and aughts, Katara was a breath of fresh air—a rare opportunity in a media market saturated with boys having grand adventures to see a young woman having her own adventure and expressing the same fears and frustrations we were often made to feel. 

We were told that we could be anything we wanted to be. That we were strong and smart and brimming with potential. That we were just as capable as the boys. That we were our brothers’ equals. But we were also told to wash dishes and fold laundry and tidy around the house while our brothers played outside. We were ignored when our male classmates picked teams for kickball and told to go play with the girls on the swings—the same girls we were taught to deride if we wanted to be taken seriously. We were lectured for the same immaturity that was expected of boys our age and older, and we were told to do better while also being told, “Boys will be boys.” Despite all the platitudes about equality and power, we saw our mothers straining under the weight of carrying both full-time careers and unequally divided family responsibilities. We sensed that we were being groomed for the same future. 

And we saw ourselves in Katara. 

Katara begins as a parentified teenaged girl: forced to take on responsibility for the daily care of people around her—including male figures who are capable of looking after themselves but are allowed to be immature enough to foist such labor onto her. She does thankless work for people who take her contributions for granted. She’s belittled by people who love her, but don’t understand her. She’s isolated from the world and denied opportunities to improve her talents. She's told what emotions she's allowed to feel and when to feel them. In essence, she was living our real-world fear: being trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood. 

Then we watched Katara go through an incredible journey of self-determination and empowerment. Katara goes from being a powerless, fearful victim to being a protector, healer, advocate, and liberator to others who can’t do those things for themselves (a much truer and more fulfilling definition of nurturing and motherhood). It’s necessary in Katara’s growth cycle that she does this for others first because that is the realm she knows. She is given increasingly significant opportunities to speak up and fight on behalf of others, and that allows her to build those advocacy muscles gradually. But she still holds back her own emotional pain because everyone that she attempts to express such things to proves they either don't want to deal with it or they only want to manipulate her feelings for their own purposes. 

Katara continues to do much of the work we think of as traditionally maternal on behalf of her friends and family over the course of the story, but we do see that scale gradually shift. Sokka takes on more responsibility for managing the group’s supplies, and everyone helps around camp, but Katara continues to be the manager of everyone else’s emotions while simultaneously punching down her own. The scales finally seem to tip when Zuko joins the group. With Zuko, we see someone working alongside Katara doing the same tasks she is doing around camp for the first time. Zuko is also the only person who never expects anything of her and whose emotions she never has to manage because he’s actually more emotionally stable and mature than she is by that point. And then, Katara’s arc culminates in her finally getting the chance to fully seize her power, rewrite the story of the traumatic event that cast her into the role of parentified child, be her own protector, and freely express everything she’s kept locked away for the sake of letting everyone else feel comfortable around her. Then she fights alongside an equal partner she knows she can trust and depend on through the story's climax. And for the first time since her mother’s death, the girl who gives and gives and gives while getting nothing back watches someone sacrifice everything for her. But this time, she’s able to change the ending because her power is fully realized. The cycle was officially broken.

Katara’s character arc was catharsis at every step. If Katara could break the mold and recreate the ideas of womanhood and motherhood in her own image, so could we. We could be powerful. We could care for ourselves AND others when they need us—instead of caring for everyone all the time at our own expense. We could have balanced partnerships with give and take going both ways (“Tui and La, push and pull”), rather than the, “I give, they take,” model we were conditioned to expect. We could fight for and determine our own destiny—after all, wasn’t destiny a core theme of the story?

Yes. Destiny was the theme. But the lesson was that Katara didn’t get to determine hers. 

After Katara achieves her victory and completes her arc, the narrative steps in and smacks her back down to where she started. For reasons that are never explained or justified, Katara rewards the hero by giving into his romantic advances even though he has invalidated her emotions, violated her boundaries, lashed out at her for slights against him she never committed, idealized a false idol of her then browbeat her when she deviated from his narrative, and forced her to carry his emotions and put herself in danger when he willingly fails to control himself—even though he never apologizes, never learns his lesson, and never shows any inclination to do better. 

And do better he does not.

The more we dared to voice our own opinions on a character that was clearly meant to represent us, the more Mike and Bryan punished Katara for it.

Throughout the comics, Katara makes herself smaller and smaller and forfeits all rights to personal actualization and satisfaction in her relationship. She punches her feelings down when her partner neglects her and cries alone as he shows more affection and concern for literally every other girl’s feelings than hers. She becomes cowed by his outbursts and threats of violence. Instead of rising with the moon or resting in the warmth of the sun, she learns to stay in his shadow. She gives up her silly childish dreams of rebuilding her own dying culture’s traditions and advocating for other oppressed groups so that she can fulfill his wishes to rebuild his culture instead—by being his babymaker. Katara gave up everything she cared about and everything she fought to become for the whims of a man-child who never saw her as a person, only a possession.

Then, in her old age, we get to watch the fallout of his neglect—both toward her and her children who did not meet his expectations. By that point, the girl who would never turn her back on anyone who needed her was too far gone to even advocate for her own children in her own home. And even after he’s gone, Katara never dares to define herself again. She remains, for the next twenty-plus years of her life, nothing more than her husband's grieving widow. She was never recognized for her accomplishments, the battles she won, or the people she liberated. Even her own children and grandchildren have all but forgotten her. She ends her story exactly where it began: trapped in someone else’s narrow, stultifying definition of femininity and motherhood.

The story’s theme was destiny, remember? But this story’s target audience was little boys. Zuko gets to determine his own destiny as long as he works hard and earns it. Aang gets his destiny no matter what he does or doesn’t do to earn it. And Katara cannot change the destiny she was assigned by gender at birth, no matter how hard she fights for it or how many times over she earns it. 

Katara is Winston Smith, and the year is 1984. It doesn’t matter how hard you fight or what you accomplish, little girl. Big Brother is too big, too strong, and too powerful. You will never escape. You will never be free. Your victories are meaningless. So stay in your place, do what you’re told, and cry quietly so your tears don’t bother people who matter.

I will never get over it. Because I am Katara. And so are my friends, sisters, daughters, and nieces. But I am not content to live in Bryke's world.

I will never turn my back on people who need me. Including me.

[marymary-diva17]

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

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.

[starsxblazing]

Cause and Effect (Part 1)

a/n: Finally part one of the series as I work on requests! I tagged everyone that commented on the original story but there were a few that I was unable to. Thank all of you so much in your interest!

Azriel x reader/Archeron!sister

(Part 2)

From the moment that you were forced into the Cauldron, your life had drastically changed. You weren’t sure what to do or where you fit in life. It wasn’t like you truly fit in anywhere anyway but it had only been amplified by being turned into High Fae. Pain and betrayal stayed with you because Feyre had done nothing to help you, Nesta, and Elain. In a sense, you understood why but it didn’t stop the emotions.

Being the youngest of all of the Archeron sisters meant that you were always looked over by everyone. Your father barely acknowledged your existence and Nesta was always more concerned about Elain and her wellbeing. You were only a year younger than Feyre and even she wasn’t treated in the way that you were.

Maybe it was because she took the initiative to risk her life to keep you all fed but when you pushed to help her, she refused your help and brushed you aside like everyone else. The only attention that you got was from a boy your age and you also knew that he didn’t truly care about you. It was only all about him getting what he wanted and then leaving.

The one thing that kept you going, kept you somewhat hopeful, were a select few human holidays that were nearly completely forgotten for a reason unknown to you. There was one in particular that always stood out and you always did your best to celebrate it. Despite that, your low rank in the family simply earned you a scoff and told that it didn’t matter. 

You simply wanted to share a small bit of joy that you could hold onto with the four of them. It was hard being so different in the sense that you wanted to spread love and joy but everyone around you was more focused on being miserable with poverty. 

The Fae had their own traditions, you had learned, in the separate courts in the new world that you were forced into but that piece of you that loved your holiday felt as if it was slowly dying. Dying just as your humanity had. You had watched in horror as Feyre was forced back to the original court that she had found her first love in. Despite that, you kept silent while standing a few feet away from your two oldest sisters on the ground who were just as drenched as you were.

Mor had all three of you before you had time to blink, sending you all through a pit of darkness before landing in yet another place that you were unfamiliar with. Naturally, everything would be unknown to you and a piece of you didn’t really care. As you sat in your room all alone, your mind drifted to the males in the castle that you had been in and you could only hope that they were alright. Your caring heart wouldn’t let you feel much of anything else.

That was until you began to move between both of your sisters' rooms. You didn’t want to be alone but Elain was in a catatonic state and Nesta simply shoved you out of the room. It was a traumatizing situation for all of you but you craved and longed for someone to be there for you as Nesta was for Elain to help you cope.

Mor had come to check on all three of you within a couple of hours and she was the first one that showed you genuine kindness for the first time in a really long time. It unfortunately didn’t last long before the female left you alone again with the excuse that she needed to check on her friends.

“Are they going to be okay?” you asked worriedly.

“They will be,” she assured with a tender smile. “They just need some rest while the healers work on them.”

“Tell them that I hope that they get better soon.”

She gave you a small smile of understanding and once she left, you made your way back to your room. You hadn’t taken the time before to fully take in the sight before you. The bed was huge, decorated in different shades of blue. Your new bed was just as big and it made you wonder why a bed would need to be so large. It was a far cry from what you were used to in poverty and even the new estate that you had placed in couldn’t compare to this.

The balcony was what caught your attention the most and you couldn’t stop yourself from enjoying the evening breeze that flowed through your hair, setting you at ease as you took in the sight of the city below you. You knew that the small area would be where you would spend a majority of your time if your sisters didn’t want anything to do with you.

Unable to stay in one place, you found yourself wandering aimlessly in an attempt to learn your new surroundings. The simple fact that it was built into the mountain amazed you and you wondered how much work it took to do such a thing. Becoming aware of your surroundings was your main goal but you always ran excitedly when Mor came to visit.

“Have you heard from Feyre?” you asked as you dined with her at the end of your first day in your new dwellings.

No.” Mor shook her head, sadness written in her features. “She’s fully capable of handling herself but we’re hoping that it won’t take her long to accomplish whatever she has planned.”

“And your friends?”

“Our best healer is working on Cassian’s wings,” she answered somewhat hesitantly even though you swore you saw tenderness in her eyes. “Azriel’s wound was nowhere near as bad as it seemed and he’ll be okay in another day or so.”

“I can’t imagine how much it would hurt to have that happen when you have wings.” You shook your head as pain for them filled you. “Or having an arrow in your chest that’s laced with poison.”

“They are Illyrians and they heal quickly,” she assured. “Healing and reconstructing wings is quite difficult but we trust our healer immensely.”

You weren’t given much information and your heart sank whenever she had to leave to check on the injured males. Taking a chance on Nesta again, you slipped into the library to be met with a hostile face. It was all that you could do not to cringe away from that look so you sighed instead.

“Mor just left and said her friends are healing,” you offered.

“I don’t care,” she replied matter of factly, her tone proving her words. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh- Just came for a book,” you muttered, your heart breaking at the hatred that you were receiving.

“Well get it and go.”

Doing as told, you grabbed the first book that you could get your hands on and darted to your room. Mor hadn’t returned on the second day and Rhysand, the High Lord, simply walked through the home, glancing at all three of you before leaving again. You were unable to focus on the words in the romance book that you had unknowingly grabbed as you sat at the dining room table on the third day.

You heard the beat of wings before you saw them and noticed that it was one of the males, Azriel as you remembered, who had landed on the balcony. It took you a moment of staring to realize that he was the most beautiful male that you had ever seen in your relatively short life. He locked eyes with you when he noticed you and his own went wide when you smiled brightly before he stumbled back a step as if he were in shock.

“Hey!” you exclaimed a bit too excitedly, happy to see another person.

“Hi,” he whispered breathlessly.

A small smile formed on his face that only caused you to grin in response.

Tag List:

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[erenjaegerwifee]

Summers In Pandora 🌸 Day 8 Corruption

Paring: Dilf!Jake x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summery: Your best friend’s dad shows you what it feels like to touch yourself for the first time.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, fingering, kissing, corruption kink, infidelity.

Word Count: 1.9k

Index: kelku - home/house

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If that makes you uncomfortable please do not read or interact with my account or any of my posts. 

Main M.List | Event M.List

Your friend Kiri is your best friend in the entire world, you have never met a girl quite as unique and caring as her, and you love her extra fingers and toes. Kiri was one of the most trusted healers in the clan, you on the other hand were very reserved and shy, your parents kept a hold on you even after all these years. You are now 19 and still you do not go anywhere alone.  

Yours and the Sully family have been close ever since Jake Sully joined the clan years ago, you spent a lot of time with the children hence how you and Kiri are so close. The handful of people your parents trust you with sleep in the Sully house hold. Your parents often allow you to spend time, even nights at their house knowing someone they trust is with you.  

You have never had any friends outside the Sully siblings in your entire life because if someone approached you, someone is always with you to scare them away. They do not want anyone to ruin your innocence, they do not wish for anyone to hurt such a fragile girl. Now, the protectiveness everyone has is not for no reason, when you were born you were your parents miracle child. After you, your mother couldn’t conceive another child and it was hard enough for her to conceive you. 

Then when you were born, they thought you would lose you after you contracted an illness and got incredibly sick. The Sullys stuck with your parents the entire time and saw them through it so why wouldn't they trust them. Thank Eywa you recovered and grew into a very beautiful young woman.  

For a while now you have been sporting a crush on your clan’s leader and your best friend’s father, Jake Sully. He just made your heart race in ways you didn’t know possible so what other emotion could you feel for him besides love? You always felt strange when he would touch you even in the smallest ways, like if he helped you with your archery stance, or when he cut up fruit and feed it to you so you wouldn’t have to get your hands sticky, even at your big age of 21. 

You were not stupid, you understand that Jake is a mated man, you know he made the bond with his wife and that’s how he had children. You also know one day you will make the bond with someone and they will be your mate forever. Thought further than that, you have no idea. You know boys and girls have different private parts and only girls can have babies but you were under the impression only when you bond you get pregnant and your parents preferred it that way, because they know you would never bond without their permission.  

There was recent talk between your families that you and Lo’ak are meant to be a mated pair so your parents can stay close to you and you will mate with someone you trust. Lo’ak as am amazing young man, he is an exceptional tracker when it comes to hunting, mating him is not the worst thing in the world but your tummy doesn’t flutter the same way when he is around than when you are with Jake.  

You were meant to stay at the Sully household this weekend. Your parents and Neytiri are going hunting with Neteyam and Lo’ak. Jake volunteered to stay back with the girls while they went. The hunting trip was meant to last 3 days. You pack up your bag and you walk over to the Sully kelku and you say goodbye to your parents and settle yourself into Lo’ak’s room. You eat dinner with the family talking about their day and Tuk told you about the bracelet she made for her mother.  

Kiri and Tuk quickly retired to their room and Jake turned on a human movie on the big screen tv in their common area. He prided himself in having time to use it as Neytiri doesn’t like that it is there. He turned on a movie called The Proposal, he thought it might be a good innocent movie to watch with you and he ended up having to explain the entire movie to you as you both watched but he didn’t really mind, his kids never cared to watch movies with him so he enjoyed your company.  

When the boy and girl kissed in the scene in front of his entire family you gasped and covered your mouth, “They’re having a baby Jake, in front of everyone? Humans do that?” Now Jake knew your parents kept you on a tight leash but he had no idea you were this innocent. Jake glanced at you and saw you covering your eyes and he paused the movie. He double checked to make sure Kiri and Tuk’s room light was off so he knows they are asleep.  

“Babygirl, that’s not what happens when people make babies, that’s not how girls get pregnant.” he said in a low voice. You drop your hands and turn to face him, “Well I know na’vi have to make the bond first but they are kissing that is forbidden unless you are mated, that’s how na’vi get babies”  

“Ok I see your logic and to a point your right, but kissing is not all that happened when someone wants to make a baby.” you were confused, “So what happens?” you look at him with doe eyes. “Well after you make the bond, you and your mate will touch each other's private parts, you know, like you do by yourself, your mate will do it.” Jake tries not to think about what you might look like while you touch yourself but he couldn’t help but trail down your body with his eyes.  

“Touch myself? I supposed to touch myself? How?” your question but him in a tuff spot, should he drop the conversation? Or should he tell you? Maybe even show you. “When you are alone, you’ve never felt a little different down there and let your hand help you?”  

“I've felt different but I never knew what to do, happens almost every day, but I wasn’t sure I was allowed...” Jake squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a deep exhale, he can’t pass this up. “You know I take show you how to help yourself if you want? But you cannot tell anyone” you nod your head silently at him and wait for him to tell you what to do.  

“I won’t tell, show me” you look so innocent he almost rolled his eyes back; it’s been years since the last time he took someone’s virginity, his wife’s. Jake told you to relax and he pulled you closer to him, his beefy right arm wrapped around your waist and sat on your thigh, his large palm covered the entire space. His other hand came to hold yours as he asked again if you are sure you wanted to do this. When you nodded once more, he pulled you up on his lap, and spins you to face him. You straddle his legs and Jake turns the move back on for some background noise.  

You pay no mind to it as your attention is focused on Jake entirely. You’ve never been this close to him before; you can smell his musky forest scent. Jake asks your permission to take your clothes off and you allow him. His eyes dart back and forth from you to the doorway separating him from his children. Jake untied your top and your loincloths dropping them to the side next to you both. He takes in the sight of your body, so small and untouched, you look so beautiful. His hands run up your thighs to below your tits and back down.  

“Ok firstly you have to want me to do this, are you sure?” you roll your eyes at his words he keeps asking if you are okay with this when the truth was you wanted nothing more, “Yes Jake, wanna kiss like the movie” you said softly, you feel how your body was responding to his eyes on you, how your skin felt hot and you blushed. Jake took a deep breath before he pulled you close, his eyes dart to your lips and back to your open eyes, “Close your eyes girl, follow my lead” he said before he pressed his lips against yours.  

Your eyes flutter shut and your hands instinctively held onto his big shoulders, you let out a little hum when he pulled away from you, your folds were slick and without thinking you bring one of his hands to your cunt, “Is that normal?” you asked softly. 

Jake dropped his head on your shoulder and groaned, one little kiss soaked you, how has he never done this before? “Yea babygirl, that’s normal” his finger glided through your folds slowly and gently making sure not to hurt you, his index came up to find your clit moving small circles on your nub. You moan and wiggle in his grasp and his other hand came around your waist to hold you still on his lap. He switches his index for his thumb and brings his middle finger down to your clenching hole. Your eyes move between his arm moving back and forth between your legs and his face that now has a light blush, he looks so pretty. You lean in and give him another kiss on the check and when he looks at you, he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips.  

You moan into his mouth as his fingers work magic for you before he pulls away, he doesn’t stop his movements, only whispers against your lips, “I’m gonna do something ok? It might hurt a bit at first but after it will feel good, ok?” his voice was calm, he helped you feel your nerves in check when he slots his finger slowly into your cunt. Jake’s entire finger soaks in your pussy before he pulls out and starts pumping slowly, “You see what I’m doing babygirl? This is how you touch yourself, curl your cute fingers inside you like I’m doing, and it feels good right?’ his voice was so pleasing to hear.  

Jake had the perfect voice to coach you through your new discovery, you shut your eyes and bit your lip when he asked you to insert another finger, you nod your head quickly and the stretch is almost too much for you. Jake feels the way your clamp down on his fingers you’re so close already but you don’t even know that, he swears he’s about to cum in his loincloth from how fucking sweet you look right now.   

“J-jake, I feel weird, something is happening!” you squeal out in a low tone, his lips came down to kiss your neck making sure not to leave any marks as he does so, “You’re gonna feel even better baby, just let me keep going yea?” he whispers in your ear. “Y-yea, don’t stop!” your voice is pitched as you talk to him, he feels your body convulses when your clench on his fingers and gush on him. Your fluid drips down between your thighs leaking down his hand onto the floor.  

Jake slows his movements until he stops and pulled out of you admiring the string of cum connecting his two fingers. His hand was a mess, but you were an even bigger mess. Your body was swaying on his lap, your head dropped down on his shoulder as if you were falling asleep and you were, you have never felt so good in your life. You question yourself as you drift out of consciousness how you have never done this before but you come up with nothing besides you will definitely be asking Jake to do this for you again.  

🌸 I hope you all enjoyed reading! I feel like this was kind of rushed but I still enjoyed reading it. I thought about what it’ll be like when she mates with Lo’ak months from now and she’s fucking like she was pretending to be innocent all this time 🌸 Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!

Taglist: 

@rivatar @delusionalwh6re @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @nilahsstuff @inlovewithpandora @neteyamsoare @m1tsu-ki @xrollingmyeyesx @goofygremlin123 @quicktosimp @its-jennarose @r11k4 @anonymuslydumb @winterhi09

[ssentimentals]

f1 pairings as famous love tropes: george russell x lewis hamilton

fated mates (ABO!AU)

'sun and moon, all of the gods above - they made you for me'

note: event described here is a hunt - annual festival to find a mate. it takes a cruel turn here (where mates can be taken without consent), but nothing of this sort happens between george/lewis. just fyi. (+ also i'm not an abo expert, so excuse any mistakes)

george really wishes he'd taken alex's advice on cardio training in the months leading up to the hunt. all omegas were up and running at an early sunrise, while george was busy collecting plants and flowers for medical and tea purposes. in his defense, he is set to be pack's next healer and george doesn't take this role lightly (he dreamt of it since he was a little pup, staying close to his mom while she helped everyone). his knowledge of plants and different ointments definitely expanded within these months, but his speed remained the same, while all other omegas managed to get faster, which only gave them more chances of escaping unwilling matches with alphas they didn't like. which brings george to his current predicament - hunt starts tomorrow. and george? george is vastly unprepared.

'you can hide,' alex suggests, helping him chop up vegetables for the soup. 'it's not against the rules. you know this forest better than anyone.'

george nods. in reality, this is his best chance at getting through the hunt without a mating mark on his neck and that is his main goal. 'how's logan?' george asks, changing the subject and smiling at the way alex instantly gets shy. 'you two discussed everything?'

alex nods, practically radiating happiness. 'we both don't want to prolong this, so i'll just wait for him at the start. won't run, you know? hunt will start and we'll just run to each other. think it's the best.'

george wishes he had this too. wishes he had someone who'd make him excited for the hunt instead of dreading it. wishes there was someone for him out there, who'd love him, who'd understand his love for his healer work and who'd love this about him as well. someone with a gentle but firm presence, kind eyes, soothing voice. someone with broad frame, blinding smile, caring heart. someone with dark skin that's covered in tattoos, someone who is a leader-

'i heard rumors of lewis joining the hunt tomorrow,' alex drops nonchalantly.

'is he?' george asks, trying to keep his tone casual. 'interesting.'

'very,' alex stops cutting and carefully takes both of george's wrist in his hands, making taller omega stop and turn to him. 'georgie. go talk to him.'

acting dumb has never been his forte, but george still tries. 'why?'

alex sighs and there's pity swimming in his eyes, which makes george cringe. god, he doesn't want pity. 'because you're in love with him, george. and because i think that he's in love with you, too. or at the very least he likes you.'

george closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 'that's cruel, alexander.'

'no, not when it's true. i really think that he-'

'- is a good, caring leader of this pack, who is nice to everyone.' george interrupts hastily, trying to will his tears back. he can't cry now, it's his turn to feed little pups today, he doesn't have time to wallow in his misery. 'we've been through this.'

'and you never listen to me!' alex hisses out, gripping his wrists tighter. 'you're so in your head, you refuse to see what's right in front of you, what everyone else sees! why do you think everyone calls you his favorite? because it's so obvious how he differently he treats you-'

'because healers are essential to the pack,' george feels like a broken mixtape at this point, repeating the same thing ever and ever again. 'not because he likes me.'

alex opens his mouth and closes it again. he sighs, defeated. 'why are you so afraid, george?' he asks quietly, intimately. 'why are you so dead set on rejecting the mere idea of him being into you as well?'

because it will kill me if it's not true. because when he will find himself a mate, i will die, something in me will break and never be the same. because i never felt anything like this for anyone. sometimes i think that my heart beats for him and him only. george clears his throat and answers with a simple: 'because it's not true, alex.'

'but-'

'not everyone gets to have their happy ending,' george smiles at his friend bittersweet. 'i'm just happy you have one with logan.'

alex looks like he's about to argue but they both freeze up, when footsteps echo and then lewis enters the kitchen. he pauses, his gaze zeroes on the way alex is holding george's wrists - alex lets go instantly, clearing his throat. despite strong smell of the vegetables, potent scent of smoke and amber clouds the air, making everyone tense up. george turns around, blinking fast to get rid of unshed tears; the last thing he wants is for lewis to see him like this.

'i'll be right back,' alex mutters and leaves the kitchen, shuddering under lewis's cold assessing stare.

'hello, lewis.' george greets, gathering control of his voice. he turns and goes for a smile but lewis looks too serious. 'um, i'm preparing-'

'what was happening here?' lewis rarely speaks to him in this commanding tone. with george he is always gentle and soft. 'did he make you cry?'

george blinks, unsure what to say. his friendship with alex is a very well known fact, so to think that alex can make him cry is crazy. 'no, of course not. we were just..talking.'

lewis steps closer and fire smoke in his scent invades george's lungs. he always loved it, found it so fitting to their pack alpha - everything about lewis was strong and commanding, even his scent. george takes a deep breath discreetly and almost chokes on it, when lewis gingerly reaches out for his wrists. he holds them with something akin to reverency and george swallows, ignoring goosebumps that rise up at the touch. lewis carefully inspects his wrists, turns them left and right, his fingers stroke george's skin lightly. 'did he hurt you?' he asks, looking up at omega.

words are so, so hard to speak when lewis is this close. when his breath is fanning over george's chin, when heat of his body makes george's head spin. 'i, um,' george licks his lips and lewis follows that move with his eyes, his grip tightens just a fraction on his wrists. 'no, no. he didn't. alex would never hurt me.' he looks down, hearing water bowling. 'uh- you can let go now. it's my turn to cook for pups.'

lewis obediently lets go, but stays close despite george turning around to continue his task. presence of pack alpha always made george nervous, mostly because he really liked lewis since the moment he first met him. he knows lewis thinks highly of him - he praised him often enough for george to be sure in this, but he never... all those praises were about george's skill. never on his appereance or on his scent or-

'are you participating in the hunt tomorrow?' lewis asks, hovering close.

george nods, grimacing. 'can't escape it this time, i'm afraid. can't call in sick like i did two years in a row.'

'you don't want to participate?' lewis notices how george is struggling with chunking the meat and gently shooes him away, doing everything himself. 'i thought omegas are eager for the hunt.'

'the ones that have a mate are eager. i don't, so i'm not excited to be picked by some random alpha. but it's not like i'm a very desirable omega, so i guess i'm partially safe this year.'

george finishes up carrots and turns to give a sharper knife to lewis. pack alpha looks at him seriously, not smiling and george blinks on confusion. did he say something wrong to kill the nice mood?

'who said that you're not a desirable omega?'

'ugh- i did?' george shrugs. 'it's okay though, i know how i look, so it's all good.'

george is too tall for an omega. he's lanky, his limbs are too long and don't always cooperate well. his eyes are too big and his hands are too rough. he's not exactly charming and nor is he a flirt. george is just george and he's fine with that. lewis, however, looks like he's not fine with it. 'and you?' george asks, needing to get attention away from him. 'you will be participating?'

lewis nods, taking knife from george's hand. 'i'm thinking about it, yes. it's time this pack gets their pack omega.'

it stings. it hurts so much that for a second george forgets how to breathe. image of lewis with another omega, both happy and elated - it breaks his heart into tiny pieces. he puts on a smile though, because he's good like that. 'that's a big decision,' he says, not looking at alpha. 'will make someone very happy, huh?'

'i hope so.' lewis answers and his scent turns acid for a second. they work in silence for some minutes before he speaks up again: 'do you want to mate, george?'

george lets himself dream. of mornings filled with cuddles and sweet kisses. of cozy house where every guest is welcome. of being greeted with warms arms upon his arrival. of being swollen with pups made of big, pure love. he smiles, not realizing that his soft lavender scent bursts in the room. 'i do, yeah.' he speaks quietly in a wishful way.

he blinks back to present when notes of amber intensify in the air, swirling happily with his own scent. george freezes - he's always cautious with his scent and never lets it go that openly - but lewis lets his scent free too and it's...wonderful. lavender soothes the strength of amber, adds flowery notes in it and swallows up the smoke - their scents mellow each other down and mix prettily. when george turns, lewis is already watching him with the scary intensity that makes him swallow. what is-

'i'll see you tomorrow, george.' lewis says, putting knife back down. 'thank you for letting me help you.'

lewis walks away but his scent stays with george long after he's gone.

=+=

'run, george. alex will go to logan but me and lando will cover up for you. we'll be right behind you and then-'

'and then you'll go and hide,' lando interrupts charles, smiling up at george with his boyish charm. 'me and charlie will continue running to the left and we all know that's where everyone will go. it'll give you more time.'

he stares up at his friends and wants to cry from their readiness to help him out minutes before the hunt. george took few vital oils with him that should help to mask scent and shares it with boys - they also don't have alphas and will spend this hunt running away from others.

'i can't believe that lewis is here,' charles mutters, helping lando apply oil on his scent glands. 'think he's in it for you, healer.'

george sputters in surprise and only grows hotter when lando confirms: 'yeah, i think so too. he hasn't stopped looking at you.'

and that is disturbing because it's true. george can't even dismiss this as a lie, because lewis is staring at him and god, why, why? is this some kind of cruel game of rising his hopes up to crush them later? george applies last remnants of oil, itching from the heavy gaze of pack alpha. he takes a deep breath and focuses on the forest ahead of him. omegas have one hour of free run before alphas are also allowed to enter the forest and he needs to make most of it. the second fire goes off, george scrambles and runs off. instead of shifting into his wolf form like majority of omegas - him, lando and charles stay in human form, dashing into the woods. in wolf form it's impossible to disguise your scent, so all three of them chose to stay like this, knowing that all alphas will shift and their noses won't pick up on a scentless omega. faster. one hour seems a lot but knowing how dense and big forest is, it's really not much. go faster. three of them run in one direction until they reach small clearing and that's when charles and lando take left, while george chooses right.

'good luck,' he mutters to his friends before turning away and running up the hills.

george does know this forest better than anyone else. he knows every single secret cave, every single hill or small river - that's his main advantage and despite tightness in his lungs and ache in his legs, he climbs up, up, up until he reaches the river. no one really goes here because bears are frequent visitors here but george knows where to go and where to hide - he easily finds a secluded cave which can be seen only from a certain angle. it takes time to go down by a slippery trope but if he falls into the river then water will wash away oil and his scent will be in the open for anyone to detect, so he takes great care in his steps, knowing that clock is ticking. once george successfully reaches the cave, his knees buckle and he falls, sighing in relief. he's not used to running for this long, he's not used to running in general and his head is a bit dizzy as he moves further up the cave, hiding. safe. his heartbeat is so loud in his ears that george spends next twenty minutes just trying to calm down after adrenaline spike, breathing slowly. there's very tempting idea of just falling asleep right now but he tries to hold on - yes, chances of someone coming here are slim but they are not non-existent. he lets himself relax though, lulled by constant sound of water running down in the river. he thinks of lando and charles and how they are doing right now, hopes that alex and logan are out of this stupid hunt by this time, thinks of lewis. did he already catch his mate? he looked like he knew exactly who he was going for. was he in love with that person for a long time? george curls up in a ball, closing his eyes. lewis probably liked someone very handsome. someone very petite, kind and fragile. someone who is everything george isn't. someone-'

loud howl breaks the silence. it takes few seconds to understand that howl is coming from the clearing up the river and george sits up so quickly, his vision turns dark momentarily. he sniffs the air but no, his scent is not out; maybe there's another omega not far from here? george shivers - he hopes whoever it is, they are not running away from unwanted alpha. he doesn't dare to peek and almost doesn't breathe, straining his hearing for any other sounds. it's strikingly silent at first and then he hears a splash like someone jumped into the river. why-

'george!' no fucking way. 'george, are you in here? are you safe?'

lewis wouldn't be lewis if he didn't inquire about his safety. it warms george's chest and he moves closer to the light. for one crazy second he thought that lewis is here for him, but that obvisouly can't be; lewis is here to just check if he's okay, if he's not being hunted by unwanted alpha. smiling at his kindness, george peeks out - lewis is all wet from crossing the river in a wrong place and generally looks very disturbed by being out here, but when he notices george, he beams at him, waving his hand.

'george!' he calls out, rushing to his side. 'i knew you'd hide somewhere here but hell, george, don't you know there are bears here? it's dangerous!'

george blinks at him in surprise, walking fully out and meeting lewis at the other side. pack alpha is a sight to behold even when he's sopping wet; god, his omega will be so, so lucky. lewis marches forward and grabs him by his shoulders, looking over his form frantically. 'are you okay?' he asks hurriedly. once he realizes that george is indeed fine and wasn't mauled by a bear, lewis relaxes his grip on him, smiling. 'knew you'd be here. i remember how you told me about this river.'

and isn't that...weird. 'i am fine,' george assures him. he then looks around and sniffs air for a good measure but finds nothing. 'there's no other omega here, though.'

lewis tilts his head to the side, confused. 'uh, yes? probably, yeah. no one is as brave as you to go to where bears are.'

george is getting more bewildered. 'i mean, there's only me here. aren't you looking for an omega?'

lewis lets his hands fall off from george's shoulders. he frowns, searching for something on his face and even steps back. 'is that a rejection, george? am i reading this correctly?'

what on earth is going on? george stares blankly at pack alpha, unsure. he feels like he's out of depth to whatever is happening right now that he better keep his mouth shut. lewis waits with furrowed eyebrows, his scent grows acidic, displeasure very evident. when george stays silent, he sighs and speaks up: 'i came here because i knew you'd be here, and when i'm standing right in front of you as an alpha, you're telling me about another omega. if this is not a rejection then what is this, george?'

george tries to grasp the reality and fails. 'what are you saying,' he whispers, eyes wide and mouth agape. 'what are you saying, lewis, you are-' he gulps. 'please don't be cruel.'

george can tell that his scent is pouring out even through the oil due to inner distress he's feeling. lewis feels it too but he stands stoic, watching george closely. 'how am i being cruel?' he asks instead, voice calm and serious.

oh god, he has to spell it out. 'by making me think that- by phrasing your words in a way that makes me think that-'

'that what?' lewis presses.

'that it's me you're looking for.' george finally lets out, ripping his heart out. 'that it's me. your omega.' he sniffs, looking away from alpha. 'this is cruel, lewis. don't do this to me.'

george wants to cry. he wants to scream and shout and curse the gods for not giving him one thing he wants the most - lewis as his alpha. his scent sours and he wants lewis to hug him like he usually does, wants to lose himself in his warmth, but lewis doesn't move. he just stares with lips pursued. 'you know what's really cruel, george?' he asks, not hiding anger notes in his voice. 'this. you thinking that i am looking for another omega. you thinking that it can't be you when it's always been only you, george.'

george breaks. sobs wreck his body and he sways a little, landing right in strong arms of alpha. his alpha. pack alpha, lewis hamilton. it's too good to be true, too unrealistic and yet there hasn't been anything more real than lewis' lips on george's scent glands. george shivers, whining a little when alpha starts nipping on them lightly, forcing more scent to come out. alpha rumbles lowly in approval, tightening his arms around omega, smiling plesantly. 'i'll spend rest of my life making sure you see what i see in you, george,' he promises. 'and then you won't ever have doubts, you'll understand how lucky i am to have you.' lewis leans back, making eye contact with george. 'i do have you, right? george. tell me now. are you mine?'

if this is a dream then george will gladly never wake up. 'being yours is all i ever want to be,' he whispers. 'i never thought that this might be mutual.'

amber and lavender mix together in the most perfect way around them. lewis smiles, staring at george like- like george stares at him. meaning, staring at him like he is the reason sun shines every day.

'my beautiful omega,' lewis says reverently, watching george blush with a smile. 'my most talented pack healer. my perfect pack omega.'

it's a lot. george doesn't think he can take this but then lewis kisses him and oh. it's a lot but my god, he can take it. he can take it so well. 'take me,' george whispers right in alpha's mouth, grinning at a responding growl. 'alpha.'

'do not,' lewis bites back, groaning and hiding his face in george's neck. 'you know i can't.'

as a pack alpha lewis has different customs to follow and george smiles, knowing that he found a new way to tease his...partner. his alpha. fuck, it's real. he lets lewis guide him all the way, lets him hold his hand, lets him announce loudly for everyone that he found a pack omega. alex cheers to the loudest, practically screaming at top of his lungs at the news with logan standing next to him, smiling from ear to ear. when george turns to lewis, alpha is already looking back at him with the softest smile. it's always been you, lewis said. george smiles and looks up at the sky, thanking gods silently. i only ever wanted him, he thinks. lewis, who is kind and thoughtful and fair. lewis, who will fill his mornings with cuddles and sweet kisses. lewis, who build them a cozy house where every guest is welcome. lewis, who will greet him with warms arms upon his arrival. lewis, who will have him swollen with pups made of big, pure love. lewis hamilton, pack alpha, his alpha.

a/n: i love this and i also hate this, i don't know :( let me know your thoughts!! - nini

my other formula 1 works are here

my seventeen works are here

[writtenbyshama]

Long Way Home [Part VIII]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part VIII

Since winter was settling in, there wasn't much work to do outside. My father had cast a powerful spell on the surrounding grounds to keep the water pipes from freezing, and the dead branches to always find their way to our wood stores. 

There was no work to do outside in the gardens, except harvest the fruit(if any) of the already existing plants and trees. 

It was the season of oranges and strawberries, though, and they had grown abundantly. I kept what I needed for myself, then windowed the rest to my father to sell in the market or make wine. He sent me the wine bottles which I stored in the basement underneath the villa. Father had dug it out for storing wine and made a cold storage partition for other items. 

When I was working outside, Azriel remained at a respectful distance and watched me. I had become used to it by now, and there were a couple of times where I had left some of the oranges and strawberries by the front door for him. 

It was my third round of harvesting oranges and I had put up a ladder against a tree, balancing on the rungs with a basket in one hand. I carefully plucked each fruit and deposited them in the basket. There was one fruit just out of my reach, and I leaned a bit further to try and grab it. Before I knew it, I had slipped off the rung and was tumbling on my way to ground. I didn't even have the time to scream, but Azriel intercepted just in time and scooped me up, gently landing on the ground. The ladder had fallen on its side with the basket, the fruits spilling out of it. 

"Careful," he breathed in my ear, and let me stand. 

In Cassian's arms, I had felt excitement rush through me and made my heart race. Like I was standing on a cliff and about to jump.

Azriel's arms held me like they wanted my body to understand that I was safe, and my body responded by making me feel like I was in a tranquil bliss. 

I quickly gathered the fruits, not acknowledging his presence. Leaving the ladder on its side, I entered the villa and closed the door shut. 

That night, as I sank into the hot bath, I laid my head on my forearms and watched him through the window. It was almost a month now, since he started hovering around. I didn't understand it. Why did he run away like that when we discovered we were mates, and why did he come now? 

I wanted to let him in and hear the answers from him, but not yet. I wasn't yet healed from the helplessness and humiliation I felt during the last meal we had together. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Two days later, I was harvesting the remaining oranges from the first bloom. Winter rains were frequent around these parts, and I could see storm clouds gathering in the horizon. They predicted a thunderstorm later on. Azriel hadn't arrived yet, and I didn't want him to get caught in the storm. 

It began that night as I settled into bed. Azriel hadn't come at all, and it was good. The heavy rain lashed mercilessly against the windowpanes, and I fell asleep to the sound of it.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 9 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

[I am overwhelmed with the amount of responses I've received for this fanfic. Thank you very much. This will be my last post of this year, as I have exams in my midst until January 7th, 2024. That's why I double posted today. A very happy new year y'all, and see you soon!]

[thefatesofspring]

If I start off something off with “another thing” or “one thing” just know I’m about to rant on here😂😂😩😩😭😭 & on that note…buckle up because this is a long one.

It absolutely baffles me that Feyre throughout ACOSF shows ZERO initiative or indication on wanting to know as much as she can about her baby/pregnancy, she’s a FIRST TIME MOTHER-TO-BE & this girl shows not a single ounce of “first-time-mom syndrome” Feyre’s lack of care towards her & her baby’s wellbeing whilst pregnant is to me absolutely diabolical & insane.

What I mean by this is at not one point has it ever been established that Feyre showed the initiative to get 2nd & maybe even 3rd opinions from different midwives/healers or even Illyrian mothers & find out information for herself about her son & her own health during pregnancy, I don’t know what wtf SJM was thinking making Feyre completely & utterly dependent on Rhysand relaying information or even Madja for that matter, it completely blows my mind that SJM’s thought process for Feyre throughout this whole ordeal was to make her so vulnerable that she shouldn’t even be aware that her own baby would likely kill her during the delivery.

I can 100% understand that Feyre wants to enjoy the pregnancy & be “in the moment” with the pregnancy experience but what I can’t grapple with is Feyre being so content & uncaring to find out all the information she can about having an Illyrian baby/baby with wings, like she was told directly by Madja that the delivery would be difficult & from that as far as we all know she made NO attempts to get as much info as she can to help herself & her son…as a first time mom…being that nonchalant?!!?!!! Like wtf?!!!

I can’t understand how she can be told the labour will be difficult & not do a damn thing herself to find ways to potentially make it easier such as finding out from others aka Lucien if he knows anything about shifting whilst pregnant, why the hell didnt Rhysand or any of the others think to go to Spring & ask Tamlin if he knows anything about risks of shifting during pregnancy since…you know shifting is HIS thing, they have no problem trespassing in Spring for secret meetings or going their to taunt an already depressed & suicidal Tamlin but when you actually need his help yet again they all suddenly get amnésia including Feyre?!!?!

To me Feyre’s inability to find things out for herself & relied on everyone else to find the information out & hope they relay it back truthfully (which in the end they did not) is not only careless but reckless too & just shows how much she wasn’t ready to be a mother, unless we end up getting a POV or flashback POV of Feyre’s thoughts surrounding her pregnancy then naturally I’ll change my stance on this situation.

Also Madja needs to NEVER & I mean NEVER be allowed to be a practicing healer EVER AGAIN!! That female is absolutely disgusting & diabolical too, she as a female making a choice for Feyre in not telling her she & her baby may die & by extension Rhysand of course, I don’t care if she was forbade by Rhysand what she did was absolutely disgusting, can you imagine how many other females in The Night Court have potentially lost their lives because Madja made a call that wasn’t hers to make on a mother & baby’s wellbeing.

And I will stand 10 toes down behind Nesta telling Feyre the birthing dangers but I don’t agree with how/the way it came out but I also understand why she in that moment she blurted it out to Feyre, it was a lose lose predicament to be in & had Feyre taken the initiative to find out more info on her pregnancy herself maybe she would have known about this already & maybe been prepared.

I really want to believe that Feyre was more involved in her own pregnancy & was showing some semblance of that first-time-mom syndrome but based off of everything we did get with ACOSF everything so far is saying she didn’t, which is just so sad that even at her most vulnerable SJM chose to make Feyre even more vulnerable by purposely having her mate/husband & family keep such a thing from her & not have her act like a mom-to-be

[neteyamslovrr]

heyhey its billie anon, i was thinking whether you could make an aonung fic based on her song "halley's comet" !! incase you havent heard it or since you dont listen to her anymore, here's an idea: reader is a metkayina and is betrothed to another random metkayina as she is one of the best healers of the clan and accidentally falls inlove with aonung, she knows it's wrong but she just cant help but cut off the betrothal infront of her parents and the other metkayina's family. ronal and tonowari hear ab this incident and 100% understand that love cannot be controlled by one (maybe from experience, ronal/tonowari maybe had a similar incident like reader) and reasons with reader's parents. you can write the rest if you want!! (also, i wld LIVE to see a small little epilogue if you could..?) (this was the lil idea i had!)

I NEED HIM NOT YOU

summary: betrothed to another you knew it was wrong to fall in love with ao'nung, but you can't help it because it feels so right.

───͙⊱••✩••̩̩͙⊰•───

Betrothed since infancy. A curse it was. To be spoken for before you could speak. It was a curse.

Iye, your promise. Iye, the innocent who longed for you. Iye, the man who you were chosen to be with. Ao’nung, the chief’s son who kissed you goodnight daily. Ao’nung, the lover who you longed for. Ao’nung the man you were destined to be with.

His kisses were addicting, his touches were exhilarating, his words were mesmerizing. His love was wrong. Your love was wrong. So why did it feel so right. When his hands trail down your body, when he recites his love to you, when he brings you small gifts. It felt so right.

“I have dinner with Iye tonight.” His name was like fire to your tongue. It spread and destroyed everything it touched. “My parents want to plan our ceremony, soon.”

Ao’nung had you enclosed in his arms as you laid in a cave far away from the village. A peaceful place to enjoy the serenity. The mention of that man’s name made his hold on you tighten. It had been known you were betrothed, promised, that you were untouchable but that didn’t stop the flutters in his heart when he saw your beauty, when he heard your laugh.

“I am going to call it off.” Ao’nung’s eyes widened, were you about to be his?

“You’ll get in so much trouble flower.”

“I don’t care. I can’t keep laying in your arms every day knowing one day I will have to wake up in the arms of another.”

“Has something happened? This is something reckless I would do, not you.” You chuckled before letting out a sigh indicating something indeed did happen.

“Iye’s mother and my mother were talking. About grandchildren. It repulsed me.” Ao’nung felt repulsed too. The thought of you bearing children that weren’t his. It was his nightmare.

“Fair enough.” His deep chuckle rumbled as you felt the vibrations of his chest on your back. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble. That’s my thing.”

“I could never top you my troublesome mate.” Ao’nung squeezed you tightly kissing the top of your head.

“We should go now…” Ao’nung nodded as you both called your ilu’s.

“Can you promise me something Y/N?”

“What is it?”

“The next time we come here, you’ll truly be mine.”

“I promise.”

Ao’nung promised to wait for you in his marui until the dinner was over. You just hoped this wasn’t going to be a shitshow.

_

The dinner was awkward. Two families connected by one who accepted their fate and one who longed for another.

Sounds of chewing and knives chopping was the only thing breaking the awkward tension in the room. More so between you and Iye. “Our ceremony will be soon.” Iye tried to break the tension, his shaky voice filling the room. “Mother is planning it, are you excited?.”

“No.” Everyone snapped their head towards to you, disproval dripping off your parents face.

“That’s a very crass joke Y/N.” Iye’s mother chimed in, her high-pitch voice trying to cover up the shock of your behaviour.

“I’m not joking.”

“Y/N! Watch your words.” Your mother had finally spoken. Her tone sharp and her glare sharper.

You mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Iye before you let out a heavy sigh. “I cannot mate with Iye.”

“What. What do you mean?” Your mother spluttered in confusion as everyone else in the room shared concerned looks to each other.

“I love another. I cannot mate with Iye, he is not who I want.” Your voice was firm as your fidgeted with your fingers. Heart beating in your throat as nausea swirled in your stomach.

“Who.” Iye’s mother had now spoken. Eywa, this was harder than you thought it would be. Gulping harshly, you closed your eyes. This would’ve been way easier with Ao’nung by your side.

“I am in love with Ao’nung. He loves me too.” Your mother let out an exasperated gasp as she hit her hands on her thighs standing up.

“This union has been planned for years Y/N! Why have you ditched this union between our two families for the reckless son of the chief? He will get bored of you! He is not Olo’eyktan he is a mere kid.”

“Do not disrespect him in front of me. Keep that to your gossip sessions.” You started to grow hot, fire burning in the pits of your rage. “This union means nothing! It is nothing! I refuse it.”

“I cannot believe this. How long has this been going on? How long have you stayed disloyal to my son?” You rolled your eyes at Iye’s mother.

“I have been in love with Ao’nung for years. He has been with me for every part of my life. And I will be his mate. If you do not agree with that, than you can disagree with your future Olo’eyktan’s choice in Tsa’hik.”

Your mother’s fists were balled as she continued to heave. “Go. Do not come back until you have cleared your mind of that boy. I do not allow it.”

“I don’t give a shit.” You screamed before storming out of your pod.

You should’ve figured that Ao’nung would have been waiting outside. You should’ve known that he wouldn’t stay still waiting while your advocated for your relationship.

“Well! that sounds like it went well.” Ao’nung gave you a small smile before embracing you. “You did so well my flower.”

“That sucked.” You mumbled into his shoulder, you didn’t want to cry but you felt the tears in your eyes starting to build up.

“It sounded like it did. My parents even heard. You yell quite loud.” You broke from his grasp holding onto his biceps.

“Your parents heard?! Ao’nung! Are you in trouble?” You were shocked, you hadn’t even thought about his parents finding out yet.

“I’m not sure. My mother said and I quote. “She is brave, go be brave with her you skxwang.”” You stared at him confused. Did Ronal really say that? “I try not to be confused. I am too happy as you are mine now.”

“I have always been yours Ao’nung. Haven’t I?”

“You have my flower.” He leaned in and gave you a tender kiss. “But let us do one more thing and you will be mine forever.” Your eyes widened as you nodded.

“It has taken us long enough.”

_

Epilogue

It had been a year since you and Ao’nung had officially mated. Though it took awhile for your parents to come around they figured they were being too pushy and shouldn’t have forced you to mate with anyone. (They were mostly happy you had fallen in love with the next chief.)

The small cave was still your favourite place. Not because it was secluded or away from other. But it was yours. A special place between the two, a place were a love that felt so wrong blossomed into something so right.

“Flower?” Ao’nung asked as you lifted your head from the comfortable place on his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever have dreams of us together? I always did.”

“I did constantly, I hated them.” Ao’nung’s face knotted in confusion.

“Why’s that?”

“Because in every dream I had to wake up to sneaking away to you instead of being with you proudly.” You smiled up at him leaving a soft kiss on his bare chest.

“I see. How about your dreams now.” Ao’nung’s rough hand caressed your face, his powerful gaze sending shivers through you.

“I am living in one.”

───͙⊱••✩••̩̩͙⊰•───

a/n: this could be better but i've been hating everything i write. sorry billie anon if this isn't what you thought but u have put me back onto billie

[autumnslance]

In reference to this post I reblogged earlier, but don't want to muck up UC's activity:

#i think it's more important to see that redemption is in the eye of the beholder #not everybody (characters or real people) will accept the same type or amount of repentance for the same sins #some people might not care at all if the person who wronged them feels sorry; only if they materially repaid their crimes #others can feel the opposite #and either way that's their prerogative #you can disagree with the characters or the fans or the writers about who “deserves” OR has “achieved” redemption and that's okay #because it's ultimately a complex philosophical issue #like i agree with OP!!! but there's media literacy in accepting that not everyone will

I'm going to disagree with many of these tags, especially it being "in the eye of the beholder" and would argue it's more media literate to recognize when a character has a workable redemption arc even if one disagrees they "should" get one. It took me a long time to learn this cuz of how we're usually taught redemption = forgiveness in Western (especially very Christianized, and especially if explicitly raised Christian) culture:

It doesn't rely on anyone but the person seeking redemption.

Yeah, it's the wronged party's prerogative to never forgive, to think the perpetrator's atonement (and/or punishment) is not enough and never will be. Anyone (characters and actual people) who sympathize, and who are on their side, can agree it's not ever enough and that character/person's sins are unforgivable.

And that still doesn't matter to their redemption.

We have an example of a workable redemption arc that not all accept in Final Fantasy XIV with Fordola's situation, through the Endwalker healer role quests. She was raised a collaborator of Ala Mhigo's imperial occupiers, and thought the best way to help her people was to soldier for the empire, becoming their Butcher.

In the Stormblood patches, Raganfrid says he will never forgive her; he thanks her for the aid she gave in the throne room that day, but that's all. And even in the EW healer role quests, their interactions are complicated. He still can't forgive the collaborators, even as he works to reintegrate them into Ala Mhigan society. He recognizes many thought they had no choice. He can't, won't, forget the pain of losing his own loved ones to them. This is stated multiple times.

And others, like M'rahz, Sarisha, and M'naago also struggle, also say they won't forgive...but reluctantly agree they can understand how for the sake of their families, the collaborators felt pushed against a wall, and what lengths have they themselves gone to for their own families? M'naago even scolds Fordola: she doesn't get to give up, she has to keep working--or she dies as exactly what everyone said she was.

Fordola starts out as the one punished for her sins. Through the story, she makes her choices to change and fight and work for her people as a free woman. There are still those who despise the Butcher, and always will. Redemption comes from Fordola's actions, Fordola's choices. Who forgives her and who doesn't can't change that she has changed, and continues to do so.

And in the interest of fairness, for the opposite of Fordola, we have Laurentius. In A Realm Reborn, he collaborated with the empire, selling out his nation. He came out of his punishment wanting a new chance, so joined the Crystal Braves...and immediately fell under Ilberd's sway. While others remained loyal and stuck to their morals (and paid for it with imprisonment or even death), Laurentius went along with all of Ilberd's plans. And in the end, the player gets an opinion in the punishment he and his comrade face, but it's clear from talking to Raubahn there isn't much hope. Laurentius had his chances, but he didn't make any effort to actually change--so faced the consequences.

For Reference for the Healer Role Quests: Garland Tools Healer quest text starting with "Far From Free", and my own saved text in Gdocs (raw, not very organized compared to my later saved/updated docs).

(Nero's the war criminal who...didn't even get a slap on the wrist, he just waltzed into a leadership meeting 15 mins late with Starbucks and has been helping us save the world since. Gaius is the war criminal that went through traumas, saw his privileged preconceptions torn apart, and is starting down that road in the wake of Werlyt to clean up his mistakes and not let his children's sacrifices be in vain. None of these characters "need" punishment to decide to change; some of it simply happens as part of their stories, but they make their own choices and actions toward atonement.)

(Also redemption is usually an ongoing process, which is why "Death Equals Redemption", like how Yotusyu's situation is framed, is so dicey and often unsatisfying; are they actually changed, or they just getting out of putting in that effort to? Nothing indicated Yotsuyu actually cared to change, as sympathetic as she was in the end! But she has her redemptive moment for her fans, and the people who hate/won't forgive her also "win"--the trope is a "have your cake and eat it too" writing cop-out IMO at this point.)

[waterfire1848]

cat ozai au?

Hello, anon!!! Shout out to @akiizayoi4869 for helping me!!

1. In a world with no war, the royal family still has some issues. Mainly that they suck at properly communicating with one another which has caused more than a few arguments. Ursa has tried to help the family communicate better but they’re really struggling. One night, a family dinner turns into one of the most heated arguments of all time. Zuko yells that Ozai doesn’t care about him at all and Azula claims that he only cares about her bending but doesn’t want to know her as a person (of course she still has some problems with Ursa but at the moment everything is directed towards Ozai). Ursa tries to talk to Ozai after the dinner but he says he needs some space and leaves. While out in the garden, Ozai wishes that he could know more about his children and be more involved in their lives. A nearby spirit hears him and says that he can make that happen. Ozai agrees to the spirit’s help and he’s turned into a cat.

2. Ozai, of course, tries to fight the spirit but just ends up hurting himself. He’s discovered by Ursa, who mistakes him for a stray, and takes him inside to help heal his injured leg. (Ursa: Poor thing. Did you get into a fight with a fox-owl or tiger-monkey? Ozai: Actually a spirit. Ursa: Talkative little thing, aren’t you? Don’t worry. Our healers will fix your leg and you can be on your merry way. Ozai: Yeah, not happening. I’ll be staying in the nice way palace. Thank you very much.) While she’s walking through the halls, Zuko spots her and the cat in her arms. He instantly asks if they can keep him but Ursa is reluctant because Ozai isn’t fond of pets. Azula hears what’s going on and asks as well. Ursa agrees that they can keep the cat for now but Ozai has final say. (Azula: Dad’ll never let us keep a cat. Ozai: Because they’re annoying, show no affection, and they’re pests more than pets. If you kids want a pet then we’ll invest in an actual pet befitting the Royal Family. Zuko: Awww. He’s so chatty. Ursa: He really is. I think his paw is hurting him. I’m going to take him to the healer. Azula: Could we name him? Ozai: No! No, Ursa, stop this! Ursa: Not right now, baby. I don’t want you kids getting attached. Besides, he’s so good with people. He probably has owners of his own that he’ll have to go back to.). The healer washes him and bandages up his paw before returning him to Ursa’s room. Ursa, worried about Ozai and wondering why he hasn’t returned, almost doesn’t notice the black cat on her bed until she gets ready to go to bed. Too tired to remove him, Ursa allows him to remain in her room. Ozai tries to think up how to get rid of this curse and why the spirit would curse him like this until he sees Ursa shaking and realizes she’s crying. He makes his way over and falls asleep nuzzled next to her and purring to provide some comfort.

3. Ozai is declared missing by tomorrow afternoon. The palace sends out a search part for him but no one can find anything. (A letter is also sent to Iroh to tell him that his brother has gone missing). While everyone searches for Ozai, Ursa agrees to let the kids keep the cat so they can have something good to focus on. Ozai is still dead set on them figuring out who he is but no matter what he does, it doesn’t work. He tries writing his name (it gets stepped on), telling people (all they can hear is meowing), and even bringing things to them that he had bought (this backfires horribly when he brings Azula a teddy bear he got her as a child and the family decides to name him Teddy.). Iroh returns to the palace a few days later, introduced to Teddy:the family’s temporary pet, but, much to Ozai’s shock, Iroh actually can understand him. (Ozai: You can understand me? Iroh: Years of spiritual training was not just for show, brother. Ozai: Tell them it’s me! Help me change back! Iroh: I don’t think I should do that. The spirits clearly did this for a reason. You need to live through this. Ozai: Iroh, I am not a cat! Get me out of this body! Iroh: When was the last time you spent one on one time with Zuko? Ozai: I…umm… Iroh: What’s Azula’s favorite dessert flavor?Ozai: I know her favorite dessert? Iroh: You see my point? Ozai: I’ll do better but not as a cat. Iroh: Sorry, brother. Noting I can do. Zuko: Uncle! Are you talking to Teddy? Iroh: You have a very talkative little fella. Ozai: Iroh. Iroh, picking him up: Here you go, nephew. Be gently with him. Zuko: I know. Come on, Teddy. Azula and I got you some treats. Ozai: Yay….cat treats.) Ozai is gonna kill his brother when all of this is over.

4. One day, while he’s relaxing in Zuko’s room (cat’s sleep a lot, he’s realizing), he notices Zuko come home in a huff from school and slam his stuff down then fall into his pillow. Ozai gets up to investigate what’s going on but is almost knocked off the bed by Zuko when he firebends in rage. Zuko ends up ranting about how there’s a big firebending performance happening at his school and he knows he’s going to fail it. Ozai tries to tell him that he wouldn’t fail if he put time into practicing only for Zuko to continue ranting and, eventually, he decides to head over to the training room, taking “Teddy” with him. When they get there, Ozai realizes that Zuko is doing the moves correctly—which isn’t what he thought—but is struggling nonetheless. He was always so focused on Azula that he didn’t notice that his son was doing the right moves, he just needed more instruction and help. (Zuko, feeling Teddy press his head against his leg: Teddy, I can’t play right now. Ozai: Keep your legs anchored to the floor. You need your legs rooted to the ground to help control your fire. *Pressing his paws against Zuko’s feet*. Zuko: Are you giving me firebending lessons, little guy? Ozai: I know you can’t understand me but please understand me. You’re putting too much power into your bending. You are a firebender. The fire will come. Zuko: Thanks for the pep talk, buddy. Now, why don’t we move you away from the fire. Ozai, ears falling: Right. Can’t understand me.) Later that day, he comes across Azula and finds her in her room freaking out over something. Jumping on her desk to hear more, he finds out that she has a crush on two different people: a boy named Chan and her friend Ty Lee. Ozai is beyond taken aback by this. He didn’t not know Azula was already getting crushes. (Ozai: You can’t date yet. You’re still just a kid. Azula: I don’t know what to do Teddy. Ozai: Don’t date. I never trusted Ty Lee and this Chan guy sounds like a jerk. Just stay single. Problem solved! Azula: You think I should handle it like a battle strategy? Great idea! *Runs off* Ozai: What? No. Sweetie, you can’t-….I never taught her what to do when she has a crush, did I? Iroh: No, you didn’t. Ozai: Were you just standing there? Iroh: I heard you talking. Ozai:….Am I just as bad a father? Iroh: No! No, you’re not. Because father never even thought he was wrong. You realize that you are. Ozai: I want to help them.)

5. A couple more weeks go by and the family starts to realize more and more that Teddy might not be an ordinary cat because he’s helping them with almost all of their problems. He helps Zuko with his firebending, getting him the highest report he’s ever gotten by his tutors, helped Azula with her dating crisis—even though he really thought she shouldn’t be dating—and provided Ursa with comfort and help since she was feeling overwhelmed with everything now that Ozai was gone. By now, Ozai has also been declared dead and the family is mourning his death. It’s hard for him to see everyone mourning him when he’s right there but the most he can do for his children and wife is to give them some form of comfort. One night, he’s asleep next to Ursa, when he hears someone outside. His ears perk up and he quickly realizes that it’s the same spirit as before. Ozai slips out of her hold and back to the garden. (Spirit: Enjoying yourself? Ozai, sarcastically: Greatly. Why are you here? Spirit: I think it’s time for Teddy to go and Ozai to return. Ozai: You’re turning me back!!! Spirit: If you wish. Ozai: Actually…I have a request.) Ursa wakes up the next morning to see her husband smiling at her. Of course, she and the kids are beyond thankful that Ozai is alive and well and back at the palace. But they’d by lying if they said they weren’t also thankful for the fact that he found Teddy wandering in the garden by himself. (Iroh: Asked the spirit to make Teddy a real cat? Ozai: They deserve a pet. Iroh: You know I’m going to tell them you were the cat, right? Ozai: Iroh- Iroh: Hey, Ursa, remember a few weeks ago when Teddy got into your secret stash of chocolate?)

[ash-says]

Saviour Complex Fever:

Let's address the saviour Complex today and no I am not talking here only in the romantic sense but also in platonic, familial,etc ways.

Ohh my traumatized girlies you better get your attention piqued up here cause this can be a call out or triggering post.

Speaking in my corporate babe language I am going to adopt both top to bottom and bottom to top approach to make sure you understand the problem. So without circumventing much I am going in for the goal.

1) Top to bottom Approach:

Starting with the OG," I can fix them" attitude.

Calm down babe, you can't. How about first fixing your sleep schedule for the starters?

We usually see this attitude being discussed a lot in the romantic hemisphere but I profoundly believe it plays a pivotal role in other bonds we have with people and tend to bleed into our romantic life so on and so forth.

Example: Take a child who is five years old and the parents are irresponsible. The child learns early on not only to look after itself but also acts as a therapist to his parents if one of them has zero sense of emotional boundaries and tends to trauma dump on the child. The child will look for ways in which he/she can make things easier and happier for the parent. In a way try to fix the parent and take on the role of being an adult.

How does it affect the bonds you create as an adult?

You become the mom friend.

The mama duck of the group who is always making sure everyone is taken care of properly.

You go above and beyond your comfort to help your friends out.

Take responsibility for your immediate surroundings.

Always trying to be the best and act like a saviour.

Last but not the least, people violate your boundaries time and time again but you forgive them and treat them like a child despite them being functioning adults.

So your homework is to assess your friendships, familial relationships, romantic relationships and check whether you are babysitting a adult?

If yes, are you getting paid for it enough?

No, drop the role.

2) Bottom to Top Approach:

Even the saviour dreams of being saved at times.

One of the potent reasons we tend to pick on the saviour role is because deep down we want to be saved. Salvation is what we desire.

Someone to lean on. A rock solid support. To lower our guards and be present without a worry.

Then we are faced with the harsh realities and realise it's not as simple as we think it is.

Therefore, whenever we see someone in need our instinct activates and we automatically start babysitting. We fill the void by embodying the persona that we deeply crave in our life.

It's the Chiron in us. We take on the role of the wounded healer.

That's where you need to remind yourself you don't need an external person or support to protect you. Many times we are sold this idea that we are fixed by someone else.

It's your job to fix your own house. Not your neighbours.

Your body, your mental health is where your spirit lives. Others can aid you but at the end of the day you won't be trusting your house to a total stranger. It's you who takes control and dictates the course of it.

So kill this idea that someone out there is going to walk into your life and then everything will be rainbows and roses.

Fine, if you believe life is a Disney movie you can go ahead and kiss a couple of frogs to find your prince charming. Your life, your rules.

But don't be surprised if you catch a disease or two while kissing the frogs .

After all, I always say:

There are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour, darling.

And if you do want to be a mother badly there are plenty of orphaned kids out there you can spend some time with them rather than those ungrateful, therapy inducing, namesake adults.

[zenkor123]

Katniss approaches Delly (October 3rd)

Katniss does not know how to approach Delly now that the mutt took away Finnick, and Annie  she asks him about Peeta hoping to strike up a friendship. 

The words come out involuntarily  

“What did you do to him?”  

“Peeta, I gave him the shovel to bury himself with”  Delly replies, smoking morphling. 

I apologize “sorry, I’m on  his rotation”

“I’m sure Peeta’s soo  happy about that” Delly says sarcastically 

“He chased me off the rotation” I shout, Peeta  wants nothing to do with me “he hates me”

“He does not hate you, he’s giving you what you want, didn’t you tell Coin you want him to leave you alone, he’s doing that, Peeta thinks he’s giving you what you want, everyone in 13 saw your exchange with Coin, including him, if I gave him the shovel, you gave him permission, he would not have been so eager as he is now if he thought people cared, we told him you did but then I saw the smile on his face when he saw the news report stating that we were all  wrong.  And I’ve seen your meals with Finnick, why on earth would he treat you nicely? He wants you to leave him alone, he doesn't trust you to help him with his episodes, why would he? “

“Coin sent him to kill me” I yell

Delly laughs “I don’t think he cares he’s to busy with the exposure therapy and  his ‘civic duty’ to 13 to treat you as anything more than an obstacle, he is dealing with enough if your not going to be helpful you should get out of his way” 

The guard who insulted me in front of district television walks by and yells “Delly’s right, hasn’t Peeta suffered enough? He shouldn't have to suffer you. Now, piss the fuck off! I hope you get your ass removed as guard” he continues walking. Delly says "He must have had a bad shift, also he's drunk on morphling" she is joking but her voice becomes serious.

“Katniss I know your suffering I’m so sorry for what I did to him, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life but seriously you consented to him burying himself, he didn’t even need to seek you out hoping  you would call him a mutt, and let him go, you even said “I don’t want him.”  And don’t say you don't care I saw you”

“I don’t care!” 

“I can’t help you then, Peeta is merely giving you what you want then, just like you gave him what he wanted, he thanked me and I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't thanked you already. What he really is thanking us for is for forcing him ask " if I'm not Peeta Mellark, who am I now? What does it mean to be a mutt? Katniss you have to understand he believed us! It's terrible.

"Why are you smoking morphling" I want to storm off.

"my brother Arthur got killed in 2, he was training to be a medic, Prim was friends with him, he went right into a dangerous pass where Peacekeepers ambushed him"

"I'm sorry, are 13 year olds allowed in combat" I say, I am afraid for Prim

"The nurses say that this is frequently overlooked especially for healers from 12 and the other districts. I like morphling, its really not bad, you should try some"

"No!" I cry out

"Alright so I have to go to work now, best of luck with the rotation, Katniss, it was nice talking to you, I'm always here if you need anything"

[neverpathia]

since this is turning into a Slay The Princess blog through no volition of my own,

I might as well talk about my ships.

because this is a fandom.

Paranoid x Hero:

come on. for one there's their banter in the nightmare route, or any route really. they sound like an old married couple. plus I like the idea of physically-weak-yet-clearly-powerful healer × physically-strongish-yet-apparently-weaker hero. like, paranoid is the ultimate support character and hero is the ultimate protagonist.

and the way they would both understand how it feels to feel constantly pressured and to second-guess every single move. because that's the thing about being a hero and trying to please everyone; because that's the thing about having anxiety and scraping for every inch of sanity amidst the terrifying unknown. the expectations. the desperate need to do the right thing, yet the immense urge to deny it all. they initially won't get along too well but given enough time they'd both get it and. stuff. yk annoyances to lovers

plus I kinda prefer the idea of platonic contrahero, and I kinda think contrarian would be aroace because he's just contrary like that. also the idea of contrarian being some little thing that just spawned and now the other voices, especially hero, have to deal with this insufferable kid...gold.

Cheated x Witch/Thorn:

trust issues wife x trust issues husband. it kind of speaks for itself. now I need to watch a playthrough where they get cheated on thorn because everything I've seen just gives them smitten but I've heard it's possible and COME ON I NEED TO SEE IT

trust issues power couple, as I said, except they're both coping in vastly different ways as well. one of them just can't stand the idea of surrender or defeat or the like. he sees life as a competition, except it's one that's indefinitely rigged against him. a game he can never win, and that's why he needs to win it. that's why he can't ever resort to others' help, because they're just going to push him down even lower than he already is. he can't risk it. it was betrayal that caused this fall of his in the first place, after all. and it was distrust that birthed him.

and the thorn is completely given to surrender. she's lost all hope and just accepted it all, but for the very same reasons as cheated. a game that she can never win and that's why she shouldn't bother. but she still doesn't want to trust because it was betrayal that caused this fall of hers in the first place. like him, she was born of distrust. and when she did win once, what then? it wasn't fair. it wasn't a true victory at all.

either way the two of them have major issues and I feel like they could help each other through it. they can empathize with each other (maybe with hero as a couples therapist) and work through this together. plus, I feel like they'd have pretty entertaining banter one on one.

----- -----

okay, I wont elaborate on everything else beyond this line because I could care a little less and I'm lazy but you could send a few asks if you're curious I guess

Opportunist x Smitten

Cold x Spectre

Broken x Hunted

Stubborn x Adversary

Long Quiet x Princess Princess/Heart of the Shifting Mound

[vir-tanadahl]

Summary: AU. After Felassan fails to secure the eluvian password, Solas summons him to Haven to assist in addressing the rising threat of Corypheus. When the situation takes a dire turn, Felassan accompanies Solas in joining the Inquisition. It isn’t long before Felassan recognizes that Marel Lavellan holds the key to saving this world—and possibly to altering Solas’s own plans. Find on Ao3!

Note: RIP to everyone who thought this was a Felavellan fic.

Chapter 16: The Wolf's Hidden Desire

The afternoon sun bathed Skyhold’s courtyard in warm, golden light, softening the bustle of activity. The sounds of sparring, clinking metal, and distant conversation drifted through the air, but Marel and Felassan walked along the quieter perimeter near the outer walls. Marel let the muted hum of the courtyard wash over her, a stark contrast to the storm churning inside her.

The golden hues lent the scene a tranquil serenity, but Marel felt anything but serene. She cast a glance at Felassan, who strolled beside her with his usual unhurried gait, his easy smile suggesting he had all the time in the world. ‘How does he always seem so… unbothered?’ she wondered, envying the ease in his steps.

“You know,” Marel began, her voice carefully neutral, as though testing the waters, “I wanted to thank you for arranging everything the other day—with Cassandra, Varric, everyone. It… helped. More than you probably realize.”

Felassan waved a hand with mock modesty, his grin widening. “Oh, da’len, all I did was nudge a few pieces together. You’re the one who got them to care. I can’t even get Varric to spell my name right in one of his stories.”

Marel chuckled despite herself, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. ‘Maybe that’s his magic,’ she mused, ‘always finding a way to make me laugh when I least expect it.’

“Still,” she pressed, her tone softening, “it meant a lot.”

Felassan’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something deeper beneath the grin—a quiet depth that always seemed just out of reach. ‘He deflects,’ Marel thought, noting how easily he turned her gratitude into humor.

Her smile faltered as her thoughts shifted, and the weight pressing on her chest returned. “I just don’t understand him,” she admitted, her frustration creeping into her voice. She hadn’t intended to open that door so quickly, but once the words were out, she couldn’t stop.

Felassan raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, his expression inviting her to continue.

“Solas,” she clarified, her voice sharper now, frustration bubbling to the surface. “He knows so much—about the Fade, about the elves, about… everything. But it’s like pulling teeth to get him to share even a fragment about the elves. I don’t understand why.”

Felassan’s gaze softened as she vented, his silence a rare but comforting presence. She gestured vaguely, the motion betraying her agitation. ‘Why does he make it so hard?’ she thought, the words swirling in her chest, too tangled to fully articulate.

“He visited me last night,” she blurted finally, the confession spilling out before she could stop herself. Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she looked away, her pulse quickening as she realized how it sounded.

Felassan tilted his head, genuine surprise lighting his face. “Solas? Visiting your quarters? Voluntarily? Da’len, I don’t know whether to be proud or concerned.”

Marel rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched in a faint smile despite herself. “It wasn’t like that,” she said quickly, though her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch at the implication. “He apologized for yesterday… and told me a story. About a healer named Lethariel.”

Felassan’s grin faded, his expression turning serious for a fleeting moment before he masked it again with humor. “And here I thought the man was incapable of making things easy for himself. Wonders never cease.”

“It gave me hope,” Marel admitted quietly, her voice softening as she dropped her gaze to the stone path beneath their feet. “But it also left me with more questions. Why does he keep so much hidden?”

Felassan exhaled a long-suffering sigh, his voice tinged with faint exasperation. “Because he’s Solas,” he said simply. “And because he’s carrying a head full of things he thinks only he can bear. Trust me, da’len, it’s not you.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” Marel countered, her voice raw. ‘It feels like he’s locking me out on purpose.’ She paused, her tone softening as the vulnerability she tried so hard to suppress slipped through. “I shouldn’t have to beg for scraps when he knows how much it matters to me. It’s not just the stories, Felassan. It’s… everything. The way he looks at me like I’m something fragile, something breakable.”

Felassan chuckled softly, his arms folding as he leaned against the stone wall. “Fragile? Marel, if you were fragile, do you think he’d spend so much time arguing with you?” He tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “No, that man doesn’t know what to do with you because, for once, he’s the one out of his depth.”

His tone was light, playful, but there was something thoughtful beneath the words, an undercurrent that made her pause. ‘Out of his depth?’ she repeated silently, the idea both startling and strangely satisfying. Her lips quirked in a faint smile, though her gaze drifted to the horizon. ‘If only he’d admit it,’ she thought, the ache in her chest dulling but never fully fading.

Felassan let his own mind wander briefly, his thoughts turning inward. He admired her resilience—the way she pushed, always seeking to understand, to connect—even in the face of Solas’s maddening secrecy. ‘She’s relentless,’ he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips. ‘And braver than most would give her credit for.’

Yet that admiration tugged at something deeper, a tension he couldn’t quite dismiss. Between his loyalty to Solas and the bond forming with Marel, a quiet conflict simmered. He knew where his allegiances lay, but Marel’s earnestness made him question whether Solas’s constant withholding was truly necessary—or fair.

He trusted Solas’s judgment, but he couldn’t ignore how Solas’s caution, his fear of vulnerability, kept him at arm’s length from Marel. It wasn’t just frustrating to watch—it felt wrong.

A flicker of guilt surfaced for Felassan. Was he making things harder for Solas? His humor, the way he stepped in to bridge the gaps Solas left, might inadvertently be widening them. Felassan’s role had always been clear: a shadow, a companion, a helper. Yet with Marel, it felt different—a kinship that wasn’t born of necessity but something genuine. And that, he realized, was the source of the complication.

Shaking off the weight of his thoughts, Felassan’s grin returned, his lightheartedness breaking the tension. “Well, da’len, if Solas can tell you stories, I’ll have to up my game. Maybe I’ll compose a ballad about you. Or an epic poem. Varric can handle the bawdy version.”

Marel smirked, a glint of humor returning to her eyes. “I’ll pass on the bawdy version, thanks.” Despite herself, she felt the knot in her chest loosen, just a little. Felassan had a way of doing that—drawing her out of her own spiraling thoughts. ‘He makes it seem easy,’ she thought, her lips twitching into a faint smile.

But her mind didn’t stay light for long. The mention of Solas lingered like an unwelcome guest, her earlier frustration bubbling to the surface. ‘Why does he always have to make things so complicated?’ The thought was bitter, but she didn’t voice it. Instead, she focused on Felassan’s easy demeanor, letting it ground her, even if only for a moment.

They approached the main hall, the soft hum of voices and the warm glow of torches spilling out into the corridor. Marel and Felassan lingered briefly at the entrance, unaware of the watchful eyes upon them, another figure stood cloaked in shadow, observing from a distance.

Solas’s gaze had followed their interaction, his expression carefully composed, though his thoughts churned beneath the surface. ‘She leans on him,’ he noted, the observation twisting in his chest. ‘And he offers what I cannot.’

His hands clasped tightly behind his back, Solas lingered a moment longer before retreating into the shadows, his presence unnoticed but his absence lingering like a ghost.

Solas stood partly obscured beneath the shadows of a stone archway, his figure blending seamlessly into the quiet recesses of Skyhold’s architecture. The afternoon sunlight poured across the courtyard, bathing it in golden hues, yet its warmth did little to reach him. Instead, he stood in stillness, watching the world move without him.

The muted clatter of sparring soldiers and the distant murmur of voices faded into background noise as his focus narrowed on two figures walking along the courtyard’s edge. Marel’s face, illuminated by the sunlight, was open and animated as she spoke with Felassan, her soft laugh carrying across the space like a ripple in still water.

His gaze lingered, his eyes following the way the sunlight caught the gentle curve of her smile. She seemed lighter here, her movements freer, unburdened in a way he rarely saw. The sight tugged at something deep within him, a mixture of longing and unease that twisted like a knot in his chest.

‘She is at ease with him,’ he thought, his chest tightening with a quiet ache he refused to name. ‘No weight. No hesitation.’

Felassan, ever the effortless charmer, spoke with his usual ease, drawing out her smiles and laughter as if it cost him nothing. Solas’s jaw tightened as he caught the subtle way Marel leaned toward Felassan when he spoke, her expression soft, unguarded. A bond of trust, an unspoken rhythm between them, born of shared moments Solas had not been a part of.

‘He does not carry my burdens,’ Solas mused bitterly, the thought coiling tightly in his chest. The sting of jealousy gnawed at him, not sharp but quiet and persistent, an unwelcome ache he couldn’t quite dismiss. It wasn’t Felassan’s connection with Marel that stung the most—it was the reminder of what Solas himself had denied her. What he had denied himself.

His mind wandered, replaying the sharpness in Marel’s tone during their recent conversations, the clipped frustration in her words. He recalled the fire in her eyes when she challenged him, the anger that so often cloaked a quieter, more vulnerable desperation.

Her voice from the previous night resurfaced, soft yet searching: “What if Fen’Harel is just… a title? Like ‘Herald of Andraste.’” He recalled the way her gaze had locked with his, piercing through the walls he so carefully maintained. The tension in her shoulders had eased beneath the brief, deliberate brush of his hand—a fleeting connection that left an ache for more. The memory was sharp, vivid, and entirely unwelcome.

‘What would it mean to her if I were honest?’ The question circled him, relentless and unyielding. ‘Would it bring her the clarity she seeks—or would it destroy the fragile hope she carries?’ He had no answer, only the heavy weight of uncertainty pressing against his chest. His parting words echoed in his thoughts: “Perhaps, in the end, it is not the titles that matter, nor the hatred they inspire. What matters is the intent behind the actions.” He had spoken them with conviction, yet as he lingered in the shadows, watching her, doubt crept in. Had he meant those words for her—or for himself?

Another ripple of laughter drew his attention back to the courtyard. Marel’s easy, unguarded smile caught the sunlight, and for a moment, Solas felt frozen. She seemed lighter, her burdens momentarily forgotten as Felassan’s teasing voice wove effortlessly around her. ‘He brings her joy,’ Solas thought bitterly, the pang of jealousy flaring anew. ‘Joy that I cannot offer her.’

He closed his eyes briefly, willing the knot in his chest to loosen. ‘Let her find comfort in others,’ he told himself, though the words felt empty. ‘It is better this way. She deserves someone unburdened by what I must carry.’ The mantra rang hollow, a fragile excuse for the distance he maintained.

Yet, as his gaze returned to them, the bond between Marel and Felassan seemed effortless in its simplicity. Solas’s jaw tightened as he watched the way she leaned toward Felassan, her trust evident in her posture, her expression. The teasing hand Felassan placed on her shoulder, the sincerity in his smirk—it was a connection unmarred by the shadows Solas carried.

Solas lingered in the shadow of the corridor, the familiar cool solitude enveloping him like a shield. The distance between himself and the courtyard felt safe, though safety offered little comfort. Yet even now, the ache persisted, a gnawing presence he could not silence.

The stillness shattered. “You’re afraid it’s too late,” a quiet voice murmured, sharp and unerringly precise. “That she’s already decided who she trusts.”

Solas froze mid-step, the words slicing through his thoughts with surgical precision. He turned slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto Cole. The spirit-turned-boy stood a few paces away, his pale eyes wide and unblinking, an unsettling mix of innocence and unrelenting truth. There was no mistaking Cole’s intent—his presence was as inevitable as the storm he brought.

“You watch them and think, ‘Why him? Why not me?’” Cole’s voice was soft, yet it carried a weight that left no room for misinterpretation.

Solas’s jaw tightened. He clasped his hands behind his back, his shoulders straightening as if bracing against the blow. “You misunderstand, Cole,” he replied evenly, though his voice carried the faintest tremor. “My concern lies with Marel’s burdens, not her choice of company.”

“It’s not that you don’t want her to laugh,” Cole continued, his tone soft but relentless. “You just want her to laugh with you.”

The words struck with brutal clarity, and Solas’s breath caught before he could mask the reaction. He turned sharply, his irritation flashing in a rare crack in his composure. “Enough, Cole,” he said, his tone sharp, though the undercurrent of unease betrayed him.

But Cole pressed on, his presence as steady as the weight of his truths. “She doesn’t laugh with you because she thinks you don’t want her to. She thinks you want her to need you—not to want you.”

The statement landed like a physical blow. Solas’s gaze narrowed, his fingers twitching behind his back as he struggled to maintain his carefully constructed facade. The truth in Cole’s words was unbearable in its simplicity, and it unraveled him in ways he had long feared.

“You keep her at arm’s length because you think it’s safer,” Cole said, his voice gentler now, though no less piercing. “But the distance doesn’t protect her—it hurts her. She doesn’t understand why.”

Solas’s chest tightened, his breath growing shallow as the words wrapped around his resolve like a vice. He remained silent, though every fiber of him bristled under the weight of Cole’s insight. ‘The distance protects her,’ he repeated internally, a fragile echo that rang hollow even to himself.

“She wants it to be you instead,” Cole added, the softness of his tone only amplifying the devastation of the truth.

Solas’s composure wavered for a moment, his brow furrowing as a storm of emotion churned behind his eyes. Jealousy, guilt, and something deeper—something dangerously close to hope—twisted together in his chest, leaving him breathless. He turned his gaze toward the golden light spilling across the courtyard, a faint shadow crossing his face.

“She feels like she can only go to you if she needs something,” Cole said, each word deliberate and unrelenting. “She wants to go to you because she wants, not needs.”

The air between them grew heavy with unspoken truths. Solas unclasped his hands, his fingers flexing briefly before he stilled them again. For the first time in a long while, he had no defense, no ready justification.

“Thank you, Cole,” he said at last, his voice clipped as he turned sharply, as if to end the moment before it unraveled him further. Yet the words lingered in his mind, unshakable and damning.

As Solas retreated into the corridor’s shadows, the weight of Cole’s truths pressed against him, undeniable. His steps were deliberate, measured, but his thoughts raced. ‘Perhaps,’ he thought with quiet determination, ‘I can find a way to make her feel she can come to me—not because she must, but because she desires to.’ The idea was dangerous, tantalizing, and for the first time, he dared to wonder if it could be true.

Later on, Solas entered Marel’s quarters with measured steps, the soft creak of the door barely disturbing the stillness within. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting the room in a warm, golden glow that softened the sharper edges of Skyhold’s rugged stone. There was an intimacy to the space, one that carried Marel’s presence even in her absence—a quiet reflection of her orderliness, her thoughtfulness, her determination.

He hesitated in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the room. The neat arrangement of papers and ink on her desk caught his attention, alongside small trinkets that hinted at her past—tokens of her clan, her identity. ‘Every detail is a piece of her story,’ he thought, his fingers tightening slightly around the folded parchment in his hand.

The sketch he had created was simple yet deliberate, each line carefully etched to capture the memory of Eryndal, the elven bard. The bard sat on a tree stump in a forest glen, his lyre poised mid-strum as villagers from two once-feuding clans gathered around him. Their expressions radiated awe and peace, bathed in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. ‘Harmony, even amidst division,’ Solas reflected. ‘A lesson often forgotten.’

Placing the sketch on her desk, he aligned it with a precision that bordered on reverent. Beside it, he set the folded note, unsigned.

For a moment, he lingered, his fingers brushing the edge of the parchment. His thoughts wavered, an unspoken question surfacing. The vulnerability of the gesture felt like a thread drawn taut, fragile but undeniable. The act of sharing this memory—a fragment of his world—felt weightier than he anticipated. ‘Where my words falter, let this speak for me,’ he told himself, though the quiet unease in his chest remained.

His gaze lingered on the arrangement, the sketch stark against the polished wood of her desk. He thought of her searching eyes, her relentless questions, the way her anger masked a deeper yearning for understanding. Turning toward the door, he stepped out, his movements silent and precise, leaving the room as undisturbed as he had found it.

Finally, Marel returned to her quarters with slow, deliberate steps, the weariness of the day etched into her frame. The weight of endless meetings and demands pressed heavily on her shoulders, leaving her longing for the solitude of her space. As she entered, her gaze instinctively swept the room—and froze.

Something unfamiliar rested on her desk. She blinked, exhaustion giving way to curiosity as she stepped closer, her brow furrowing slightly. The sketch was the first thing to draw her in. Its intricate lines seemed to breathe life into the scene, each stroke carrying a purpose. The bard, the villagers, the forest—every detail spoke of unity, of harmony forged through effort and care.

She picked it up gingerly, her fingers tracing the edges of the parchment as her eyes roamed over the image. ‘This isn’t just a drawing,’ she realized. ‘It’s a story.’ Her chest tightened as the tranquility of the scene seeped into her, momentarily quieting the noise of her thoughts. Beside the sketch lay a folded note. She unfolded it, her eyes scanning the familiar elegance of the handwriting. The message was simple, yet its depth struck her:

“Knowledge, like hope, must be nurtured. May this bring you both.”

Her breath caught, the words resonating in ways she couldn’t fully articulate. She lowered herself into the chair, the sketch still in her hands. ‘It’s his,’ she thought, her heart beating a little faster. The precision of the lines, the thoughtfulness of the gesture—it could only be Solas.

Marel’s fingers lingered on the edges of the parchment as questions began to unfurl in her mind. Her thoughts turned to their recent conversations—the tension, the frustration, the brief moments of connection. ‘Is this his way of bridging the distance?’ she wondered, a faint warmth spreading in her chest.

Her gaze returned to the drawing, to the bard and the villagers whose faces reflected peace and unity. The harmony depicted in the scene felt like a quiet balm, easing the ache of the day’s burdens. But beneath that ease lay a new curiosity, a desire to know more. ‘

As the light in the room softened with the setting sun, Marel allowed herself to linger in the moment. Her fingers brushed over the lines of the drawing once more, her thoughts quieter now, yet no less searching. The gesture was small, understated, but its meaning was unmistakable. It was a connection—fragile, tentative, and deeply personal. And for the first time that day, Marel felt a faint but undeniable lightness in her chest.

Gratitude surged, mingling with an eagerness she couldn’t quite explain. Her earlier exhaustion slipped away, replaced by a bubbling excitement that propelled her toward the door. She needed to find him.

The courtyard was alive with activity, the buzz of Skyhold’s daily rhythm enveloping her as she stepped outside. Her eyes swept over the scene, searching, until they landed on a weathered stone table beneath the shade of a sprawling tree. There, a chessboard lay between Solas and Cullen, the pieces scattered mid-battle.

Marel slowed her steps, her gaze lingering on Solas. He sat with his usual composed elegance, one hand lightly resting on the table, the other hovering thoughtfully over the board. His calm expression betrayed nothing, but the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes hinted at a mind working several moves ahead.

Cullen, by contrast, sat stiff and focused, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. His fingers tapped against the table’s edge, his mounting frustration evident even from a distance.

Marel hesitated. The moment felt... different. Solas’s posture was relaxed, his demeanor quietly content. It was a side of him she rarely saw, as if the weight he carried had lifted, if only slightly. Her instinct was to linger, to watch from afar, but the sketch in her hands demanded otherwise.

Her steps quickened, and she called out before she could think twice. “Solas!” Her voice carried across the courtyard, bright and eager, as she held the sketch aloft, “This is incredible!” She tilted the drawing towards them.

The interruption startled Cullen, who looked up from the board with mild exasperation. His expression softened into reluctant amusement. “Inquisitor,” he greeted dryly, though there was a flicker of warmth in his tone. “The man paints frescoes in the rotunda. Did you think he stopped there?”

Solas’s gaze lifted, his eyes settling on the sketch in her hands. Recognition flickered across his face, and for a moment, something warmer passed through his otherwise composed expression. His lips curved into the faintest smile, a subtle acknowledgment of the gesture.

“I had thought my work in the rotunda answered that question already,” he replied, his tone even but touched with quiet humor.

Marel’s excitement didn’t falter. She stepped closer, the words spilling from her with an enthusiasm that felt almost childlike. “The frescoes are beautiful, yes, but this is different. The detail, the way you’ve captured the light and the expressions—it’s breathtaking.” She extended the sketch toward Cullen, her eagerness uncontainable. “See?”

Cullen leaned back slightly, his attention shifting from the chessboard to the drawing. His brows lifted, surprise softening the edges of his stoic demeanor. After a moment, he nodded. “It’s... good,” he admitted reluctantly, his tone tinged with sincerity. “Though maybe if he spent less time perfecting every line, I’d have a chance at winning this game.”

Solas straightened, and the faint smile returned, laced with a quiet pride that Marel noticed even in his restraint. “Modesty becomes you, Commander,” he said, his voice smooth, his words deliberate. “As does admitting when you are bested.”

Cullen sighed heavily, gesturing toward the board in frustration. “Your move, Solas.”

Solas’s hand hovered over the chessboard for a moment before he moved a piece with deliberate precision. “Check,” he announced, his tone even, carrying the faintest hint of satisfaction.

Cullen groaned, leaning back in his chair as his hand scrubbed over his temple. “How… how are you doing this? Every time I think I have you, you’ve already planned ten moves ahead.”

Solas allowed himself a soft chuckle, though his gaze flickered toward Marel, who still held the sketch with an expression of unrestrained admiration. “The Commander is learning,” he remarked lightly, a faint trace of humor in his tone. “Though not quite quickly enough.”

Solas gestured toward the art piece. “And you, Marel? Does it meet your approval?”

Marel’s grin widened as her fingers traced the edges of the drawing. “Approval? Solas, it’s incredible,” she said earnestly, her voice carrying a warmth that made something flicker in his chest.

Cullen groaned again, his frustration more playful than genuine. “If you’re looking for talents, Inquisitor, ask about his chess strategy. That’s the one thing you won’t find on display in the Rotunda.”

Solas inclined his head, a faintly smug smile curving his lips. “Perhaps I’ll leave the Commander his dignity—for today.”

Marel laughed, her voice bright and genuine, carrying a lightness that seemed to dissolve the tension lingering in the courtyard. Holding up the sketch again, her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Will you tell me more about him now? Please?”

Solas’s expression softened, and his gaze lingered on her, the corners of his lips twitching as though fighting back a smile. “Very well,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Shall we take a walk?”

Marel beamed, her eagerness unguarded and unpretentious. “Lead the way,” she said, falling into step beside him.

Turning briefly to Cullen, Solas allowed a faint smirk to return. “You are reprieved, Commander. For now.”

Cullen muttered something indistinct under his breath, though the amusement in his tone was unmistakable. Rising gracefully, Solas gestured toward the path leading away from the chessboard. Marel followed him eagerly, her earlier weariness replaced with a quiet energy that matched the golden warmth of the late afternoon light.

Together, they strolled along the outer edges of Skyhold, the mountain breeze tugging at their cloaks. The early evening sun bathed the stone walls and distant peaks in a soft, golden glow, casting long shadows that danced at their feet. The noise of the courtyard faded behind them, leaving a serene stillness broken only by the occasional call of a distant bird.

Solas began to speak, his voice quiet but resonant, each word carrying the weight of a memory too precious to fade. “His name was Eryndal,” he said, his tone reverent, drawing Marel’s full attention.

Her steps slowed, the sketch clutched close to her chest as she looked at him intently. "Not a leader, then? Not a warrior?"

Solas’s gaze drifted toward the horizon, his expression distant, as though he could see the very glen where the bard had once played. “No. He carried no blade, commanded no armies. But he understood...connection. Where others wielded steel or diplomacy—he wielded something far simpler.”

Marel tilted her head, her voice soft but eager. “A lyre,” she guessed, glancing down at the sketch as though it might reveal more.

Solas inclined his head, a faint smile touching his lips. “Yes. There were two villages, once allies,” he continued, his cadence deliberate, as though each word deserved its space. “Time turned their paths wild with thorns. Words became stones, and stones became silence.”

Marel’s steps slowed further, her brow furrowing. “And Eryndal...what did he do?” she asked, her voice tentative but hopeful.

Solas’s gaze flickered toward her briefly before returning to the distant peaks. “He stood in a glen,” he said, his tone softening as if recalling something deeply personal. “A place unclaimed, a space between breaths” His voice dropped, quiet and introspective. “And there—he played.” He trailed off, his gaze distant, as though the memory had enveloped him entirely.

Marel held her breath, sensing the depth of what he left unsaid. Her chest tightened at the tenderness in his expression, the faint flicker of vulnerability that he so rarely allowed to surface. "What did he play?"

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost reverent. “Songs of memory. Of winters shared, of fields sown side by side. Of laughter carried on summer winds. His melodies were...gentle. But sometimes, gentle is enough.”

Marel watched him with intensity, her lips parted slightly as she considered his words. "Enough to change their hearts?"

A faint smile flickered across Solas’s face before fading into something softer. "No. Not entirely. Not all at once. But enough to make them pause. Enough to make them listen."

Marel nodded slowly, her gaze falling to the drawing in her hands. "And sometimes...that's where healing begins."

Solas studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a single, solemn nod.  "Yes. Sometimes, that's enough."

The story hung between them, unfinished but alive with possibility. Solas fell silent, and Marel looked at him, thoughtful, her fingers clutching the sketch as though it anchored her to the moment. She didn’t press for more, sensing there was as much meaning in what he left unsaid as in what he had shared.

They walked on in companionable quiet, the breeze carrying faint echoes of Skyhold’s life around them. After a time, Marel broke the silence, her voice soft yet filled with gratitude. “Thank you for sharing that. And for this,” she added, lifting the drawing. “It’s… beautiful.”

Solas’s faint smile returned, though his expression remained shadowed by introspection, as though he carried the weight of untold stories on his shoulders. “Some stories deserve to be remembered,” he said, his voice carrying the quiet reverence of someone speaking a sacred truth.

Marel glanced back up at him, her eyes searching his face as her words came softly, almost hesitant. “Even if we cannot tell them all?”

Solas met her gaze, his eyes steady and filled with a quiet certainty. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice low but firm, as if the answer was carved from stone. “Even then.”

The dynamic between Marel and Solas began to shift subtly after their conversation about Eryndal. Marel felt more at ease in his presence, sensing a quiet respect in how he had shared the story, as if offering her a glimpse into something deeply personal.

Solas, too, reflected on the moment with unspoken complexity. He was drawn to Marel’s openness, her curiosity, and the unexpected comfort he found in their growing rapport, though he remained wary, mindful of the barriers his secrets erected between them.

Skyhold continued its familiar rhythms—meetings in the war room, training sessions in the courtyard, and the ceaseless hum of activity as the Inquisition pursued its goals. Within this bustling backdrop, their interactions unfolded gradually over three months, marked by small but meaningful moments that deepened their connection.

In the first week, Marel noticed a subtle shift in Solas’s demeanor toward her. During a planning meeting in the war room, she caught his gaze as he calmly offered a suggestion. There was something in his tone—a trace of encouragement—that struck her.

For the first time, she felt the weight of his trust, even in the context of a strategic discussion. It was a small moment, but it lingered with her, echoing the respect and understanding she had glimpsed during their earlier conversation.

By the third week, their bond deepened a little further. Solas offered to meet Marel in the garden for a lesson in advanced magical techniques, a suggestion that piqued her curiosity and filled her with quiet anticipation.

The garden, tucked away within Skyhold’s walls, became the backdrop for their practice. The late evening cast the space in a tranquil glow, with the moonlight filtering through the branches of flowering trees and the faint scent of herbs and blossoms lingering in the crisp air.

Solas stood beneath the canopy of a sprawling willow, his posture composed as he demonstrated the intricate interplay of Fade energy and magical glyphs. His movements were deliberate, his voice steady and precise, carrying a reverence for the craft that made Marel feel like a partner in something profound. The faint hum of nearby fountains provided a serene counterpoint to his measured tone.

Marel mirrored his movements, her focus sharpening under his guidance. The cool stone of the garden’s path beneath her feet grounded her as she traced the glyphs in the air, her magic weaving through the space between them. There was an unspoken intensity to the lesson—a quiet understanding that this exchange was more than instruction.

It was a sharing of knowledge and trust. Solas’s explanations were meticulous, yet there was warmth in the way he spoke, as though he saw in Marel the potential for something extraordinary. She felt it too—this rare connection forged through their shared understanding of magic and the Fade.

When the lesson concluded, they lingered in the stillness of the garden, the air between them charged with a rare sense of shared pride. Marel let her hands drop to her sides, her magic dissipating into the cool night air. She turned toward Solas, her breath steadying, as the flickering light of fireflies added a quiet intimacy to the moment.

Marel felt a quiet thrill at the intellectual challenge and the realization that Solas had chosen to share this part of himself with her. For his part, Solas found himself unexpectedly content, the carefully maintained boundaries he upheld blurring just enough to allow a fleeting glimpse of something deeper.

The bond between Marel and Solas continued to deepen in quiet, unspoken ways. After their shared lesson in the garden, Marel found herself seeking his company more often, drawn to his insights and the quiet respect he extended toward her.

Solas, in turn, began to notice the small details about Marel—the way she tilted her head when she was curious, the thoughtful pauses in her words as she weighed her thoughts, and the rare, vibrant smiles she offered when something truly delighted her. These moments, though simple, began to weave a connection that neither had fully anticipated.

During a scouting trip in the fifth week, Marel paused to admire a patch of vibrant wildflowers blooming against the rocky terrain. She pointed out one in particular, its color vivid against the muted landscape.

Solas followed her gaze, noting the delicate beauty of the flower and the quiet appreciation in her expression. Later, as the group prepared to move on, he carefully plucked the flower, pressing it between the pages of a book he carried.

Upon their return to Skyhold, he left the pressed flower on Marel’s desk—no note, no explanation, just the quiet gesture itself. That evening, Marel returned from a long day of meetings to find it waiting for her.

She paused, her expression softening as she recognized the thoughtfulness behind the act. Smiling, she tucked the flower into her journal, its fragile beauty a quiet reminder of the connection growing between them.

In the eighth week, the Inquisition recovered a damaged Dalish artifact during a mission. Recognizing its historical and cultural significance, Solas quietly took it upon himself to restore the piece, despite his complicated feelings toward the Dalish.

When the restoration was complete, he carried the artifact to Marel’s quarters and placed it carefully on her desk. The delicate craftsmanship gleamed softly in the light, its intricate patterns now whole again. Solas lingered, his expression thoughtful as he awaited her return.

When Marel entered, she paused, her gaze falling immediately on the restored artifact. Solas stepped forward, his voice low but steady as he said, “It’s a privilege to witness this through your eyes. Your connection to your people is inspiring.”

Marel’s expression shifted, her initial surprise giving way to a mixture of gratitude and awe. She approached the artifact, her fingers tracing its intricate details with reverence. The care and precision of the restoration were unmistakable, and as she realized the depth of Solas’s respect for her heritage, an unspoken understanding passed between them.

In that moment, their bond deepened further. Marel saw not just the scholar and mage before her, but someone who valued her identity—not merely as the Inquisitor, but as a preserver of Dalish traditions, despite his own feelings towards the Dalish.

For Solas, the act felt less like a gift and more like a bridge, a way to honor the essence of who she was. The connection lingered in the quiet between them, profound and unspoken, yet undeniably present.

As the weeks passed, Solas found himself increasingly torn. Marel’s warmth and openness had become an unexpected comfort, a respite from the burdens he carried. Yet, the weight of his hidden identity and ultimate plans pressed heavily on his mind.

The tension between his growing attachment to her and the knowledge that he could never fully allow himself to be vulnerable was relentless, threading doubt through even their simplest interactions.

There were moments of hesitation—lingering glances that held more than he dared to admit, words chosen with uncharacteristic care, fleeting signs of the conflict he kept buried beneath his composed exterior. Her presence drew him in, a beacon of connection and understanding, but each interaction left him walking a precarious line.

[waksworldrebooted]

Tried my own hand at High Guardian Spice redesigns (High Guardian Heroes)

CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS IN THE CASE OF VISUAL ISSUES

ROSEMARY

- 14

- Carefree, reckless and absent-minded, but good at heart.

- Daughter of the late warrior, Lavender Thalya

- Raised by her father growing up after her mom seemingly died in battle during her infancy mere months after her birth

- Idolizes her mother and dreams to become a hero like her (problem is, Rose is bad at it)

- Grew up in Lyngarth City's outer urban town of Scarborough Grove,

never visiting the inner city before attending it's local high school

- Freshman at High Guardian Academy alongside childhood friend Sage.

- After hearing rumors of a criminal syndicate called "The Triumvirate"

Rose is motivated to train at school and become a guardian to defend the city.

- Armed with whatever rusted remains was left of Lavender after what

was found of her body, including her mother's sword: The Rosemary Bloom (AKA her namesake)

- Tries to see the good in everyone as she wants to follow what was

told of Lavender's values.

- Trains with Parsley to learn from her and vice-versa

SAGE:

- 14

- Very calm and down-to-earth yet shy. Interested in the concepts of nature, space, stars, and time.

- Daughter of The Melanox family, two local magic-wielding healers

- Has an older cousin who is currently married to an elf, living in Lyngarth

- Wears hand-me-downs (hence the baggy sweater and skirt)

- Carved her staff with her father at ten years old as a test,

- Met Rosemary in preschool and grew up with her.

- Encouraged by her parents to become a guardian after hearing concerns

about a "rot" seeping from parts of the outer city into Scarborough Grove

- Trying to be more than a healer by using magic for defense

- Proving a point to her parents that "new magic" (magic based on technology powered from mined resources) can work together with "old magic" (magic drawn from individual's natural energy)

- The Parents send Sage to the academy not knowing they restricted their magic system to ONLY "new magic" in their current term (when initially both co-existed)

- Places a Terasphere (new magic device) into a childhood nightlight

in an attempt to combine the two magic systems

- Comforts Thyme with her personal issues around her home, as the witch

understands what the beauty of nature is ( using her knowledge as a magic-born to console the woodland nymph

PARSLEY

- 15

- Smug, smart, and kind at heart

- Born and raised with 12 brothers as the eldest child.

- Lives in a weapon and auto repair store managed by her family for generations

- Stressed under the pressure of taking care of not just her siblings, but

also helping with her mother's bakery and her father's repair shop

- Meets the Rose and Sage at HGA after Rose accidentally breaks The Rosemary Bloom's blade clean off the hilt. Takes the two to her family's shop for welding.

- Shocked when realizing Rose is a daughter of a late Champion Guardian

- Teaches the two newbies at combat despite her size.

- Very skilled at sledgehammer combat using a weapon crafted from spares laying around the shop

- Has a rivalry against the more stern Thyme due to the woodlander's

arrogance at first, before warming up to her.

- Learned to be resourceful based on old articles on Lavender on her

saying how guardians take what they need from their environment

(hence the hammer)

THYME

- 16

- Harsh, noble, stoic, serious, loyal, and sarcastic

- A woodland elf nymph born into the Evergreen Clan of the outer forests of Sidhe Woodlands, a scared land home to magic plant and mineral resources

- Raised to protect the place from invaders alongside other nymphs of her age with a crossbow. being cocky in being the best.

- Lost her parents at 12 due to an attack by a group called " The Triumvurate" In which they used their magic to spread a rot throughout the forest.

- With most of her fellow archers having too fallen, the was exiled and lived in isolation on her own

- Lived solo after travelling before finding Lyngarth City, trying to live in the grimey slums adopted by a light elf and her punk wife.

- Found the other three after their first week at HGA when they tried to explore the city's more undesirable areas to find monsters or crooks to fight.

- Ends up befriending the three she find and sees them as amateurs' at first, but sees

them as an opportunity to grow to not repeat history.

- Secretive about her past and her injuries to hopefully keep their trust

AMARYLLIS

- 15

- A Hydrotiera from the seaside city of Alchemist Bay

- Rich and spoiled witch born to the divorced CEO of a ship/trade empire

- Entitled and snarky (but looks out for her best friend)

- Has a bone to pick with Rose and Sage due to her status

- Born without an right arm, provided a prosthetic that doubles as a spell caster

- Uses her arm (New Magic Tech) to power an "Anchor Axe" from her natural 'Old Magic" energy

- Acts self absorbed to cover up on how little attention her father gave Amarylis in her teens

- Sees Snapdragon as her closest friend for they both share family issues

- Respects the main 4 over time on the grounds of her dad being a potential target of The Triumvirate.

SNAPDRAGON

- 15

- Effeminate Male Drakonican, rough with a soft interior

- Stern and agile, but also elegant and delicate

- Born into a family of brutish warriors pressuring them to be rough

- Believes in freedom of expression. Anyone can be strong and brave without being rough and brash in the name of "heroism", while also staying elegant and clean.

- Trains to be a swordsman in High Guardian Academy to prove their parents that idea

- Sees Amaryllis as their best friend for having parental issues.

- Follows Amaryllis' lead in treating Rose and Sage. Would later form a friendship with both, with the latter seeing Snap's skills as inspiration for keeping calm

- Trains Rose on occasion after their rivalry became null and void.

- Find's Sage's simple and strict parents similar to their own

PARNELL

- 10

- Scholarly, curious, overambitious, and naïve

- Descendant of a family of famous historians in Lyngarth City

- Advanced through grades fast due to his intellect

- Befriends Rose and Amaryllis due to their families history

- Often bullied by Aster

- Top and youngest student in High Guardian Academy

- Hates people who underestimate him due to his age

SLIME BOY:

- 14

- Oozalian orphan. Soft-speaking, nervous, shy.

- Abandoned by his creator years ago, adopted by a local bard running a potions shop

- Uses random instrument parts to make up his humanoid body, including a

"New Magic" infused radio under his scarf (albeit with garbled speech)

- Named "Slime Boy" by the adoptive father ( he wasn't sure on what to call the creature but the monster child ran with it, for it sounded right enough lmao)

- Learns music to become like his adoptive father, and to defend himself

- Attends HGA for finding not just knowledge on bard magic, but also what he is exactly and where he came from.

- Thyme and Parsley find SB to be dumb at first, but learn from his easygoing approach to things.

- The fist and ONLY one of his kind to attend HGA

YOU THOUGHT IT WAS HAZBIN HOTEL REDESIGNS PART 2, BUT IT WAS I, HIGH GUARDIAN SPICE.

Honestly what is left to say of this pile of stinky doo doo garbage.

TBH, I did these on a whim because I was looking at YouTube in December about this show and tried re-watching a few reviews of this out of boredom.

But after remembering my old redesigns that I made back in 2022 (which I think I posted to the HGS subreddit) and me getting a new book about professional character design, I figured I should take a stab at doing these designs again.

Other than the mediocre character design, lackluster animation, and subpar writing I think the biggest issue about HGS is that it lacks any charm of it's own. I felt it was so focused on trying to be like other cartoons of its era that it failed to forge it's own identity out the gate.

When it came to HOW I should redesign these things, even three years ago, I wanted to make the show set within a modern and urban fantasy setting (think some mix of Onward, Nimona, Arcane, and The Legend of Korra). Case in point, the show's aesthetics ranged from being too archaic or too modern in terms of outfits, so mixing the two would not only make it stand out from other shows in the genre.

So instead of High Guardian Academy being another bootleg Hogwarts, I thought of the AU version being this art deco-inspired classy junior-senior public high school....with the chaos of IRL high school. Modern stuff like vehicles and tech do exist though I imagine they're either intricately detailed to fit the vibe, or magic powered.

There's some elaboration on how I re-did the magic system a bit (Old Magic being archaic and harnessed from humanoid users, and New Magic coming from mined resources powering technology to give regular people powers) but I'm tired.