#and learning to trust and to heal hand in hand with someone else

[bosspigeon]

Did not mean to craft Literally The Perfect Man for Astarion I just made a demisexual dude with a complex relationship with sex and intimacy due to trauma bc it is my God-Given Right to cram my own issues into an oc and then the vampire twink just happened to have issues to match and anyway what was i talking about

[charlietheepicwriter7]

H̵̩͋o̸̹͒l̶̢̑ď̸͕ ̵͔͛T̴̲̄h̶͙͋e̶̤͘m̵͍̋ ̷͓̈D̵̯͛o̶̡̅w̵̖̃n̵͝ͅ

Get in the Water AU: Original Post Ruthlessness

Ghosts were physiologically different from humans.

It was something Tucker and Sam didn't understand. They saw Phantom as "Danny with superpowers," not as a fundamentally different being.

Sometimes, Danny didn't understand either.

But his parents did. Utter disregard for the scientific method aside, the Fentons were the ones who learned how inhuman ghosts were: "Just emotions and electricity imprinted on ectoplasm, Danno, nothing to be scared of!" Snapshots of people at the moments of their deaths. The past and the present, incapable of contemplating the future.

And with his duality, Danny struggled to understand either of his halves.

As a human, Danny could move past his nightmare of a childhood, compartmentalize and think to the future, when he was fully healed and his past couldn't hurt him anymore. So when Dora, first elected Queen of the Infinite Realms - long may she reign - asked him to collect all the resurrected humans for a health check and assessment... when he'd noticed Damian Al Ghul-Wanye on the list... He'd thought up a little prank to pull on his long-lost brother. A cruel one, perhaps, but nothing harmful.

As a ghost, Danny couldn't move on. He could never forget that Sam led him to his death, that his parents negligence allowed for the stage to be set, that the lab they loved so much held both his home and his grave. Just as Danny would always be that fourteen year old, caught in that moments, he was still the 7-year-old Danyal Al Ghul who trusted his brother not to hurt him... and ended up poisoned.

Phantom wanted his murderer to suffer.

And Danny, much to his shame, had allowed it.

For a few weeks, Danny managed to ignore it. He'd gone after Damian first, so there were tons of resurrected on his list. He started with the more extreme cases first, like Constantine, but soon enough the next on his list was Ra's Al Ghul.

He'd asked Queen Dora to send someone else, anyone else. That he wouldn't be able to control himself if he saw his grandfather again. Instead of relieving him, she'd given him a knowing look and told him to follow his core's desire.

She never mentions it, but Queen Dora had been a murder victim too.

There was no showmanship, no dramatic reveal. Just Danyal, his grandfather, and the Pit.

Despite all Ra's Al Ghul's power, he was no match for a spirit hellbent on drowning him.

That's what Danny did to his grandfather. He'd thrown up afterwards, once he was human before. But the ghost in him relished the act; he could still feel Grandfather's throat under his hands, pulse fluttering against his palm as Danyal held him down. He struggled and shook as the Lazarus waters filled his lungs, burning away healthy tissue. Fingernails morphed into claws that sliced through the tender skin, blood leaking into the water, and water leaking into the blood.

It took a long time for Grandfather to die. Deep within Danny, next to his core, he knew it was what was deserved. That the murdered finally had justice. He was content with never speaking of it again, a secret between him and the waters.

And now it was going to happen again as Phantom's impulsive mind overtook Fenton's tactical one.

He'd known Damian was looking into him. Knew another confrontation was inevitable, what with two more of his siblings needing their health checks. But as Danny was stalking their mother, searching for the best way to abduct her (she was still his mother after all, he didn't want her dead... yet), Damian and his family confronted her.

Relief washed over him as only a normal amount of rage bubbled up at the sight of Damian, instead of the overwhelming, all-consuming fury he'd felt. Danny laughed at their arguments, at Constantine thinking he could put a living ghost to rest, at his siblings-unmet and his father-unknown, until...

Damian confessed.

His murderer confessed, yet as he continued to speak, to explain, the fury rose in him again. Because it wasn't a betrayal. He'd always thought Damian betrayed him, but no.

Through his own ruthlessness, Damian gave him the only mercy he could manage. And there was only one thing Danyal wanted now.

""̸̲̈́T̶͘͜ä̵̢li̸a̶̬̓ ̴̬̐A̵̛̪l̸̲̚ G̸̛̫h̶̺̏u̸̢̚l!̴̳̈́ D̷̩̕o̸͛ͅ ̶̝̍y̴͙͘o̵̙͐u̵̬̓ ̴̤͂k̸̡̑n̵͓̈́o̷͈͝w̷͖͂ ̷͓͑w̴̧̄h̵̲͌o̴̮̔ ̵̼́Ị̷̂ ̷̣̽a̵̳̓m̷̩̓?̷̝͒"̷̧͠"

It was her fault. She was the reason why he was dead, nothing more than a coward who couldn't go against her father for the sake of her children. She abused them, she struck his brother, it was her fault-

"Danyal," she answered. And Danyal grinned, fanged and sharp.

He approached, the waters of his birthplace lovingly brushing against his legs, consoling him the only way they knew how. They whispered revenge into his ears, madness into his heart, just as they had when he'd confronted Damian, when he murdered Grandfather. "You have much to answer for, daughter of the Demon Head," he said, voice echoing around the room.

Unrestrained greed filled her gaze. "You've returned to me, my son."

Danyal laughed, brutal and rough. "I've returned for you, Mother," he corrected. "Don't think this reunion will end well for you."

"You mean to hurt me, Danyal?" she crooned, all false hurt and fake love.

"I mean to kill you."

Genuine anger flashed across her face. "My son would never-"

"Y̵̺̆o̴̩͂u̸͉̕r̷̰͝ ̴͔͝s̵̡̉o̶̡̎ň̵̞ ̶̗̈i̴̘̍s ̸̦̐d̴̯̚ê̶͚á̶̩d̷̻̈́," he snarled, and Damian flinched. He was too close to Talia. "You wanted me dead... for being weak. For having mercy." He stared up at his mother's shocked form. "I killed Grandfather. Tell me, is that ruthless enough for you, Umi?" Talia flinched with just her eyes. He hadn't been allowed to call her Umi since he was three.

Their father stepped forward, the naked distress on his face contrasting with his battle armor. "Danyal," he plead. "You don't have to do this-"

"Stay out of this, Baba." The man's breathing hitched. "This doesn't involve you."

Constantine tried to talk him down next. "It does, kid. A Siren on your level can't stay around for long. It's time for you to rest."

Danyal threw back his head and laughed. "As if you could stop me, exorcist." No more delays. It's time for action. "I will drown you all before you can."

Danyal lunged. And despite his mother's decades as an assassin, she couldn't kill what was already dead.

He held her down by the throat, the attacks from Damian's family bouncing off him. "This is mercy," he cooed as she desperately clawed at his hands. "For me. For Damian. For everyone you will try to hurt in the future. Ruthlessness is the only mercy I can give you now." Her face turned red as she gaped for air and Danyal-

Was thrown back into the water.

Reorienting himself, he found John Constantine standing over his mother, protecting her from him. "̷̪͂E̷̺͐x̷̝̑ŏ̶̺ȑ̴͉c̷̟͘i̸͔̋s̶̮̀t̶̯͝."

And the Pit's water began to rise.

[munson-blurbs]

Hey sweetheart! You take requests at the moment? I'm currently healing from surgery (ow) and I just want some fluffy Eddie fussing over me/reader

One fluffy blurb, coming right up! I hope you get well soon 🥰

Warnings: Reader is recovering from surgery, mention of prescribed medication, mention of spicy activities, Eddie is a big ol' mush of a boyfriend

WC: 750

--

The sound of a handbell clanging has Eddie up from the sofa in a heartbeat. He’s learned your communication system over the last few days: one ring means you want some company, two means you’re hungry or need to use the bathroom, and three indicates an emergency. 

This was a three-ring. 

“Sweetheart?” There’s no camouflaging the alarm in his voice as he pushes into the bedroom. He finds you propped up against the pillows, book in hand. “What’s the matter? Are you dizzy again?”

You shake your head. “Could you get me a snack?” The doctor advised against taking the pain medication on an empty stomach, and you had no intention of breaking that rule. “Maybe some pretzels? Or a slice of toast with jelly?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief. “You rang the bell three times,” he explains, soft irritation clipping his words. “I thought something was wrong.”

Glancing at the bell tucked against your thigh, you frown. “No, I only rang it twice. Or, wait…shit, I did ring it three times.” You exhale, sliding your bookmark between the pages and offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“S’okay.” He plops down onto the bed, careful not to jostle your elevated leg. “Just…give me a sec to get my heartrate back down to normal.” Hand to his chest, he takes deep, exaggerated breaths that have you giggling. 

“I mean, I could find something urgent,” you tease. “Maybe I’ll try walking without the crutches, or I can take out my stitches…”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles in a combination of disbelief and disgust. “Bullshit,” he counters. 

“Bullshit?”

“Bull. Shit.” He grins, gently poking your bicep. “You got all queasy that time you had to pull out a splinter, and you expect me to believe you can remove your own stitches?”

You let out a defeated groan. “Ugh, fine.” He knows you too well, and you love him for it. 

He gives you a triumphant kiss on the cheek and starts towards the kitchen. “Anything else the fair maiden needs while I’m up? More water? Ginger ale? Perhaps some champagne and caviar?” His eyes light up mischievously at the last suggestion. 

“I’m not supposed to drink on these meds,” you quip, playing right into his charade. 

“We’ll take a raincheck on the champagne, then.”

You shift back slightly, wincing as pain shoots through your leg. The surgery hurt more than the injury, and part of you wishes you had just muddled through and hobbled around instead of getting it fixed. 

Eddie returns a few minutes later with toast that’s just the right shade of burnt and slathered in strawberry jelly. He has a glass of water in his other hand, though you hadn’t asked for any. 

He places both on the snack table he’s set up next to the bed before reaching over and grabbing the bell. He rings it one time, loud and purposeful. 

“Can I help you?”

Nodding, he sits down. “I’m bored and need someone to talk to.” He rests his head on his pillow and pouts. “Entertain me?”

“There’s not much going on here.” You shrug, scanning the room for a conversation topic. He’s been taking care of you nonstop, and surgery recovery doesn’t exactly make for riveting discussions. Your eyes land on a magazine. “I read some interesting articles in Cosmo, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie waggles his brows. “Anything spicy?”

You flip to an article that provides explicit details on giving the perfect blowjob and point to the page. “This one was pretty raunchy.”

He studies it just long enough to read the headline before tossing it aside. “You don’t need any help with that. Trust me.” He smirks knowingly. “You probably could’ve written that article yourself.”

“Good to know.” Exhaling, you look over at him. “You can go hang out with the guys if you want. Or they can come over here, as long as they’re not too loud.”

You expect him to jump at the offer; anything to cure his bout of boredom, but he declines. “Nah, I’m good right here.” He snatches up the magazine once more and thumbs through it. “Besides, I need to find out what color palette matches my skin tone.”

“Eddie—”

He cuts you off with his pointer finger. “Shhh. This is life-changing stuff, Sweetheart. I mean, what if I’m…an ‘autumn,’ but I’ve been wearing ‘winter’ this whole time?” His face contorts in mock horror. “Talk about tacky.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

You absolutely do. 

--

[lovebugism]

congrats on one year of your blog!!

for your one year celebration, could you write something with the prompt

“you showed up at my door of all place?”

“trust me it wasn’t my first choice either.”

with steve perhaps? maybe he’s injured (because when isn’t he) and has no one else to turn to but the reader??

tysm lovie! hope you like it :D — steve seeks comfort in you, his rival since high school, a week after fighting vecna (enemies in love, hurt/comfort, post st4, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve’s stitches start weeping a week after the brawl with Vecna — the ones you’d sewn along his ribcage when a gang of demobats made a feast of him. 

He’s gotten so numb to the pain (the constant, never-ending, three years of nonstop pain) that he doesn’t realize his wound has torn open again. Not until his shirt starts sticking abnormally wet to his skin. He looks down, notices the dark red patch blooming on the gray fabric, and then feels the distant stinging of the week-old bite.

Most of them have healed or are starting to. They’ve turned pink and marred over, unlikely to fade. But there’s one gash that refuses to mend, and he’s starting to think it might be some kind of bad omen. Like the constantly knicked sutures are some kind of prophetic telling of an undone fight and not just a consequence of his restlessness.

He thinks of you first, anyhow. Before a solution or a way to dull the pain. He thinks of you and your gentle hands and how you were the only person he’d let touch him after coming back from the Upside Down. 

Steve drives to Forest Hills and ascends the rickety porch of your trailer even though he knows it’s 2 a.m. He knocks at the paint-chipped entrance even though he knows Eddie only lives four doors down. Max lives across the way from Eddie, and he knows that, too. He could go just about anywhere, he figures, but he’s here — on the steps of the girl who couldn’t stand him in high school.

You answer the door much quicker than he anticipated. Ten seconds after he knocks, you stand before him with wet hair and no pants. The damp strands drip onto the oversized shirt you wear. The sleeves of the old thing hang low off your arms, the hem of it falling just above your knees.

You don’t look sleepy despite the early hours of the morning. Tired, maybe, but not sleepy. “Steve?” you say, so suddenly alert at the sight of him. Your eyes, lined with a sleep you haven’t gotten in days, go wide with distant horror. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone die?”

You ask him all this before he’s said a single word. Good questions when you live in a town like this one, when you’ve seen the things you’ve seen.

“Nothing. Everyone’s fine,” Steve answers in a monotone, still gripping his side with his opposite hand. “My stitches just ripped.”

You blink rapidly at him, trying to clear the daze of exhaustion and the subtle shock of seeing him. “Stitches— What?”

He pulls back his hand, the palm of it now blotched pink. There’s one large circle of deep brown blood staining his shirt and two more tiny patches just below it. “I’m bleeding,” he tells you, as if it isn’t obvious now. “My stitches pulled.”

Your gaping gaze flits from his freshly opened wound to the annoyed look on his chiseled face. His pale features glow amber beneath the buzzing porch light. “And you showed up to my door, of all places?”

“Trust me. It wasn’t my first choice either.” He clutches his side again and slides past you in the doorway, walking into your trailer, mostly uninvited. 

He knows your parents aren’t around. It’s the only thing you’ve ever been able to bond over. You grew up mostly alone and learned to raise yourselves accordingly. So it’s not totally surprising to find your trailer dripping with girlhood — tiny trinkets, movie posters, half-alive plants, and vibrant colors. More of a home than his empty mansion ever was.

“Why don’t you just go to the E.R.?” you ask and shut the door behind you. You have to lean your body weight against it and press really hard — or else it won’t close fully, and the wind kicks it open while you’re sleeping, and you wake up to a family of raccoons ravaging the candy bowl on your coffee table.

Steve huffs and sits on your grass-green couch, face scrunching at the distant stinging along his ribcage. “Because I don’t know how to tell people that potentially rabid demobats took a pound of flesh outta me,” he sasses.

You shake your head. “If you get blood on my sofa, Harrington, I swear to god…” you mumble and sit down beside him. 

You lift the hem of his shirt to assess the damage, knuckles skimming warm along his golden side.

Most of the bites scattered along his ribs are healing now. They’re small and shallow and turning slowly pink instead of scarlet red. But there’s one still pulsing crimson, the only one deep enough to need stitches. The only one refusing to heal. 

The sight of the raw, throbbing wound makes your stomach writhe. You remember pulling the stubborn demobat off of him by its tail. You feel the sting of his pain even now, like it’s your own.

Steve watches your face the whole time. He decides to base his pain on how you look at him, whether you shrug it off or grimace in disgust. You do neither. Your eyes dart over his skin, glimmering with concentration, as your fingers brush his aching side with a gentleness he didn’t think was possible.

His brows pinch at your lack of response. He tilts his chin to his chest and ducks his gaze to look at you, honey eyes eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“Well… It’s not good,” you conclude after a few moments.

“That’s such a non-answer,” he scoffs, dropping his head to the back of the couch to watch you walk into the kitchen. 

You disappear behind a wall for a few moments. The distant clattering of something, muffled as you dig inside cabinets, fills the empty trailer. 

You’re back in thirty seconds, tops, with the first aid kit you’ve been a stickler about keeping restocked. ‘Cause Steve isn’t your first patient since coming back home. He’s not your second, either. 

It was Eddie first, for his own demobat bites, and then Lucas when the cut along his swollen cheek split open again.

You’re not cut out for any of it. Not professionally, anyway. You only know how to do sutures because of Mr. Mundy’s ninth-grade health class.

You return to Steve’s side and begin to clean up the bite, lest an infection spread and Vecna take him out from beyond the grave. 

The burn of the alcohol makes him wince. “Ow,” Steve whispers under his breath, a subtle pout scrunching his features.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you laugh.

“I’m injured— You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“You’ve been through three separate concussions and a thousand demobat bites. I think you can handle a little sting, Harrington.”

Steve tilts his cheek to his shoulder, squinting his twinkling eyes and flashing you a lopsided smile. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing your bedside manner is— ow!”

You start stitching him up without warning. You make it look easy despite having no real idea what you’re doing. Steve figures it’s because you’re a natural at taking care of people. Sometimes he thinks that’s the only reason all of you managed to make it out of the Upside Down in the first place.

“All done,” you murmur after you’ve knotted the last stitch.

“Thanks…” He tries to sit up again. The sting hasn’t yet left him. It’s less of a pain now, and more of a  warning — the thin sutures screaming as they threaten to snap.

“If you don’t move around so much, they won’t pull. Again.”

“Is that the rule?” he teases.

“Yeah. That’s the rule— the don’t be stupid rule.”

Steve takes a sharp breath in and rises. He’s prepared for the ache, so it burns less this time. He sees you reach for him in the corner of his eye, hands darting out to help him and then shooting down again when you decide against it. 

He wouldn’t have minded if you had. He would’ve made fun of you for it, obviously, but he wouldn’t have minded.

He’s been missing the warmth of your touch more and more since the Upside Down — back when he laid mostly limp on the arid ground of a desolate land, when you cradled his body to shield him from the bats flying overhead. 

He stopped feeling scared when you held him. He thought it was because he was dying, but now he knows it was because of you. The healing in your touch. It’s like the amber glow of streetlamps in the dead of night, or sunsets that paint the whole world pink. Being touched by you is like dancing in summer rain and running through a field of wildflowers.

“Sorry, for uh— for keeping you up,” Steve apologizes and inches towards the door.

You follow close behind him, with an urgency that borders between letting him out and keeping him in. “It’s— It’s fine,” you stammer, then laugh at yourself. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Steve asks, an inquisitive swirl to his scruffy features.

He turns around to face you more, his sneakers melting into the plush of your rug. Your hand gets clammy and tightens around the rusted doorknob when he looks down at you — with his eyes made of velvet and his mouth made of flower petals. His face is so hardened, but he looks at you so softly anyway.

“No,” you confess with a soft shrug. “I mean— after everything, I don’t know how anyone is. I was with Eddie earlier, and the fucker was passed out before ten.”

Steve breathes a sharp laugh through his nose. His plush lips curl into a crooked smile. “He deserves the sleep, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“And so do you.”

“I know,” you grin, equal parts bitter and genuine. “But I’m not getting any.”

“Me neither,” Steve confesses, exhaling so deep it makes his chest deflate.

The two of you linger in place for a long, long time. Both of your mouths curl to say the same things — let’s grieve together, let’s wait for the sun to rise so the nightmares will pass — but neither of you is brave enough to say them out loud.

“I’ll see you around,” Steve nods, finally.

You wrench open the door for him, pulling extra hard when it jams. “The next time you pull your stitches?” you joke, smiling like you’re not grieved to watch him walk into the empty night alone.

Steve grins like he’s not mourning, too. “Probably,” he scoffs.

Maybe before that, he hopes, healed again as he walks to his car. Maybe I’ll be brave enough soon.

[fruitsoxs]

this is long so i'm putting some under read more

BUT- Thinking about Astarion with a generally good tav/reader. I’m thinking it’s sort of an enemies to lovers type deal, where the two of you start off the adventure by bickering constantly over what to do. You always want to do the right thing, and it absolutely infuriates Astarion. He pushes back whenever he can, because your little rag tag group has other matters that are much more important than saving children, or rescuing girls from some hag. But of course, he’s always outvoted. You are easily annoyed by his constant complaining whenever you want to do something good, and so of course the two of you are almost always at each other's throats.

“Oh I’m sorry that I actually have a heart.” “You should be- we have other matters to attend to. Like, well I don't know, the thing inside our heads!”

However, there are moments where Astarion comes to learn that he genuinely likes your kind heart. When you easily forgive him for…hiding what he truly is. Or how you lie when a hunter is out and about. There are moments where you tend to his wounds in complete silence, gently wrapping a bandage around his arm. And when he says a quiet thank you, you simply nod and move on. 

He’d never say this out loud, and of course continues to act as if you are nothing but a nuisance, but he starts to appreciate you little by little. You are not just some naïve adventurer who will drop dead if someone were to ask. You are the strongest person he knows, someone he could depend on if needed. He watches you fuss over the group, solving everyone’s problems. He sees how much work you put into making everyone comfortable, and how little you ask for in return. And while he thinks you’re a little stupid for it, he also recognizes that most of his disdain comes from the fact that he wishes he had someone like you to save him when he was at his lowest. If good people like you exist, then why did nobody come to his aid? 

So maybe he gets less snippy. He doesn’t roll his eyes every time you put the mission on hold to do favors for others. Maybe he starts to fall for you little by little.

And maybe it all becomes clear to him when you get hurt.

It was supposed to be an easy little mission. A peaceful meeting that you were sure you could talk your way out of (it always surprised him how easily you could lie your way out of fights). And of course, Astarion and you just had to get in a little spat beforehand, so he stays at the campsite while you’re off bringing peace to the world. He doesn’t expect to see the others come rushing into camp, dragging your weak body along. He doesn’t expect to see you so pale, fighting for your very life-

He rushes to your side, demanding to know what happened. Something went wrong, and somehow you ended up stabbed with a poisoned dagger in the midst of a fight. He feels his insides churn when they lay you down on a bed roll, and he watches as you give him a weak smile.

“Hey fangs.” you manage to get out, entering a coughing fit shortly after. Your smile almost fades when you notice how scared Astarion looks. It isn’t like him to be so worried. You don’t like seeing him like that so you whisper. “It’s gonna be okay-” And gods does it infuriate Astarion that you’re still trying to help others, help him, when you’re basically dying by his side. So he snaps a bit.

“And how do you know that?” He bites at you, pain and anger in his voice. You flinch a bit, letting a silence take over for a second. You slowly reach out to grab his shaking hand, your grip so weak. “Just trust me.”

He sits by your side, barking orders at everyone else- demanding someone heal you. He’s a bit of a prick as Shadowheart kneels down to tend to your wounds. He seems so angry, but everyone can see the way he’s clinging to your hand. Everyone knows what’s going on. And after you’re healed, and left to recover, he stays by your side. 

When the rest of the camp is asleep, he gently pushes your hair out of your face while looking you over. He’s just now realized how hard he’s fallen. While you’re protecting everyone else someone has to protect you. He may as well be that person.

[sien-ten]

Kabru X Laios post-finale headcanons, because Tumblr decided to shower me with content about them

Kabru said "you guys can't build any political connections with elves without me " and stayed as a royal advisor, which surprised Laios big time (he was sure that after fulfilling his promise Kabru would lead his party somewhere else)

Laios turned out to be well-mannered when necessary, so following court etiquette wasn't too hard for him – Kabru felt deep annoyance every time his king greeted or complimented anyone in such a royal manner, until he learned that Laios' trademark airhead behaviour now showed up only when he's with someone he trusts (family, friends... and him)

Kabru warmed up to Laios significantly in a first year of them rebuilding kingdom, they both were stressed to no end, but the more situations they've got to solve together, the more Kabru trusted Laios (even if he doesn't like to admit it)

Laios had to send Falin off to their parents to rest and heal a bit, since at first kingdom was very much unstable (Marcille accompanied her); after his party departured, he felt pretty much very lonely, so he had a lot of time on his hands to contemplate, why he's so gravitated towards Kabru all the time; he vented to Senshi about some of his thoughts and got advised to try courting his advisor – it was later registered as one of the first crisises that kingdom faced since Winged Lion's departure (Kabru was so oblivious that Laios nearly ended his reign)

Kabru and Laios started seeing each other officially only after Falin and Marcille returned – because of Senshi's panicked letters they've brought Chilchuck, who properly scolded the King and set the pair for a nice dinner (yes, Laios hasn't tried that one before)

Laios never experienced romantic relationship before, so a lot of things hit him like a truck – to Kabru's grief, his lover still was too honest of a man, so if Laios though that Kabru looks extra handsome today, everyone in courtroom would know that (exactly because of that Marcille had to take over courtroom proceedings, they couldn't have Laios distracted and guests giggling)

Kabru and Marcille became good friends really suddenly, but they had too much in common not to: elven mothers, grievances about mortality, Touden partners; they made a tradition of having a private chat throughout the day, even if they had meals with everyone all the time (king's order), having their own space to unwind felt good (Falin told Laios about these meetings/tea parties and forbid him to disturb them)

They enjoy to spar on swords and read to each other; sometimes they would stroll through the forest together and look for ruins

On one of Laios's birthday Kabru learned how to cook monster barbecue imitation as a gift (it was a struggle), and Laios was overjoyed (it didn't taste like monster at all, but the thought is more important)

[godspeedviper]

How the doctors handle your sick days

SFW || TW: mentions of needles, vaccines, pills & IV drip.

This one's for the girls, goths, and gays that have a chronic illness, a disability, or are just plain old sick. As a chronically ill girlie myself I'm always craving caretaker fics but never find them so I had to be the change I wanted to see in the world.

Dr. Jonathan Crane

He immediately shifts into a stoic clinical demeanor the moment you start to show any signs of discomfort. At first you find it a bit worrisome because his voice seems so cold and detached, but now it makes you feel grounded and safe.

Jonathan always makes sure you have everything you need, but he unfortunately doesn't think much further than that. It takes him some time to learn how to comfort you as well as heal you.

The best part about having him by your side when you're ill is that he can always talk you out of a bad state of mind. Above all, Crane remains a psychologist, and he takes pride in his ability to override your negative thoughts.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

You are utterly spoiled. Hannibal makes sure to cook for you and bring your meal to bed or the living room so you can eat comfortably. In the evenings, he makes sure to run a hot bath for you with herbs and epsom salts to soothe any aches and open up your respiratory system.

Since he is a doctor after all, he has prescribing rights, and will usually write prescriptions for any necessary medications. Need to get an injection, or an IV drip? Hannibal does that for you at home.

His pride and possessiveness makes him want to give you the best possible care to ensure someone else doesn't touch you this way. Hannibal gets nervous at the thought of your safety and health being out of his hands. How could he trust someone else with such a precious life? What if they made a mistake and hurt you or worse?

Dr. Robert Laing

"I'm not that kind of doctor." is always the first thing he says when you mention that you aren't feeling well. However, this doesn't mean he's not helpful, he is still a pathologist. Laing always does his best to make you feel better.

He's always reading up on your symptoms and possible treatments. If something is out of his grasp, he isn't afraid to admit it and seek out assistance. Even if he can't be the one to treat you, Laing will be there with you every step of the way to advocate for you and make sure you feel safe.

Much like Scarecrow, at first he seems rather cold and detached, but it's only his training taking over. However, his starting bedside manner is much better, and over time he adapts very well to your needs.

Dr. Spencer Reid

Now he's definitely not that kind of doctor, but that doesn't mean he isn't prepared to take care of you. His eidetic memory comes in clutch with any possible knowledge about your condition and how to act accordingly.

He always tries to be there for your doctor appointments or for any major procedures. Spencer wants to make sure you're being properly cared for and he isn't afraid to confront anyone that talks down to you or dismisses your symptoms.

When you're resting at home he clings to you like a lost puppy. He happily reads to you when you lack the energy to talk, or if you just want a bedtime story. He never forgets to check in on you even when he's away on a case, and will often ask Garcia to pick up items from the pharmacy for you if he can't do it himself.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

it hurts me. the chaggie hurts me s o good

Vaggie having been such a great murder soldier (one of the best exorcists) (battalions worth of dead souls piled under her lost wings)

but Protect Charlie and Support Charlie became so important to her (the revelation of reaching out to strangers to heal hurts instead of causing them) she for real got out of practice with actual physical fighting bc she was busy helping Charlie with the emotional battles instead-

it feels so good.

it's such a big and happy difference, from vaggie the exorcist

she's fighting for her girl every time she holds Charlie's hand and it's NOT what she's trained for or is always good at, solving people problems without just stabbing anyone who hurts Charlie or gets in Charlie's way- soldier life bleeding through even when Vaggie tries so hard- (a life lived with the kind of people who would use cutting out someone's eye and ripping off their wings as a solution to a problem)

but she says herself she wants to be Charlie's ARMOR. she could have said spear, could have said she wants to be the blade that cuts through all Charlie's problems-

she doesn't want that. Amor, something that stays close, something not meant to hurt, something that isn't a weapon. not anymore

even if it (she) isn't used to that yet

and you know what. maybe that's what getting saved by Charlie actually meant.

Charlie didn't pull her down from heaven- she wasn't the reason that Vaggie looked at a kid in hell and couldn't go through with sticking a spear in them

but without Charlie, Vaggie could still have been a spear raised and redirected towards heaven. even after years in a peaceful life Vaggie still reaches for her spear so quick, how fast on the draw would she've been if Charlie wasn't there? hadn't been there?

(if kindness hadn't pulled her out of that alleyway, would the chance for revenge at the next extermination day have gotten Vaggie moving instead? would the first dead angel have been found years earlier- or would it have been her- a loose end that didn't unravel quietly getting neatly cut away?)

that didn't happen. Charlie was out looking to help people on extermination day. she did find Vaggie

and with Charlie, the spear is a prop more than anything else. part of Vaggie yes, probably forever- not a NEEDED one though. an old instinct always at the ready while not having to be used much anymore.

life with Charlie is Vaggie carrying a spear, sure.... and also growing out her hair. not being used to fighting with it long, because she hasn't had to be fighting

she's still been able to fight for girlfriend anyway

Charlie isn't asking power or wins from her. that's not what the princess of hells needs.

Charlie needs the hand that holds hers during a hard call with her dad, the hug waiting for her when she comes back after a bad day, the soft smile not judging her for telling herself stories when she's sad- likes that side of her, actually-

the woman who knows every embarrassing personal thing about Charlie because Charlie trusted her not to make fun of it, trusted that Vaggie loved her

Charlie needs the push of Vaggie's words telling her it's time to make that hard call to her dad in the first place, the later unshakable reassurance from Vaggie when Charlie breaks down crying before the battle (breaking down over not being able give Angel Dust the better life she promised, everyone in even more danger now instead)

and Vaggie (pragmatic, realistic, honest Vaggie) does not tell her that things will be okay and they'll win their upcoming fight- but that Charlie has already done so much.

if for no one else, then at the very least for Vaggie

Charlie really has, hasn't she. 'just' by seeing Vaggie as a person she saved her from being nothing but a soldier, a weapon, the hair trigger response of someone who learned trust on a battle field and had her body torn and scarred by the people she trusted-

but now Vaggie does the worst damage to the people who hurt her when she holds her girlfriend's hand. she grumbles but gives people chances, often stressed but just as often smiling in her new life with Charlie. she goes back up to HEAVEN (even though she really really doesn't want to) because her girlfriend takes her hand and askes her with big soft eyes and says they're partners- it's such a change from being a soldier following orders.

partnership is all Charlie's asking for

and fucking HELL if Vaggie hasn't answered by being there in the darkest moments, tugging Charlie gently back into the light of their shared dreams and the reality of having someone there to share them with

and uh, also getting charlie to call her dad

....and.... yeeting random lit bombs out the nearest new hole in their hotel, when someone hands it to her gf and charlie gets sidetracked trying to politely juggle the thing...

.....

how DID charlie manage before she equipped the smol spear gf??

[tragedybunny]

Well since you are asking for asks, here's one! How about a Astarion one (shocking I know) where they are on their way to baulders gate to confront Cazador but Astarion is plagued by nightmares that he will lose Tav/reader to his former master and goes to them to ensure they are still there and its angsty with fluff. Please? Thank you!

My usual apologies for my work rate Anon. I hope you enjoy.

What Haunts His Nights - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion is plagued by nightmares on the road to Baldur's Gate.

Astarion didn't really sleep, Elvish meditation was usually enough, unless the vampire ended up injured or exhausted, then he'd fall into healing sleep like the rest of his kind. So how he managed to have nightmares any time he tried to rest seemed like some sort of immense joke of the universe. Which would fit with the rest of his existence. Ever since you'd ended things at Moonrise Towers and your path to the city was clear, the same subject haunted him. 

Cazador. Only this time it wasn't just him who suffered at those accursed hands. It was you, Cazador had somehow learned of your relationship and would use it to make you both suffer. Sometimes he killed you outright, other times he'd kidnap you and torture you until Astarion willingly returned to him. Worst of all were the visions of you made into another spawn, forced to serve the Vampire Lord.

For the most, he tried to hide it, much as he loved you, it wasn't in his nature to trust you with every fear and flaw. But they were getting worse, more haunting, even as his attachment to you grew. The more he loved you, the more afraid he became. Tonight though brought that fear to dizzying new heights, his siblings had found you, here at Wyrm's Crossing, meaning Cazador could find you all as well.  

Instincts had firstly led him to secure their cooperation in the ritual. It hadn't been a lie when he'd said it was to protect you too. Losing you would be the same as losing himself. But now, laying here next to you in the tent you'd been sharing, other thoughts had crept in, the reality crushing down on him, Cazador could take you if he wanted to. This was no home he had to be invited into, there was no protection here. 

Trying to push it from his mind, Astarion let himself fall into meditation, no deep sleep needed tonight. As soon as his mind quieted though, there was Cazador. "A willing substitute, a lamb to the slaughter." You knelt before him, bare from the waist up, the dagger in his hand carving the same Infernal words into your skin that Astarion himself bore. 

Weeping silently, you endure, until the foul work is finished. Then it is as though Cazador finally notices him. "If you would have just come home boy, she wouldn't have to suffer. But look what she does for love of you." 

A scream nearly tears itself from his throat, and the meditation breaks. Rolling on his side, he chokes and gasps, an impressive feat for someone who doesn't need to breathe. Squinching his eyes shut, he finds himself unable to turn and look at the place you were sleeping, knowing it would tear him apart to find you gone. "Just a nightmare, " he whispers, trying to convince himself. Gods, how unfair was this, he'd barely learned how to love, and now he had to worry he could lose it at any moment. 

You had to be there though, safe and undisturbed, he couldn't even fathom anything else. He rolled, dead heart aching, to find you where he'd left you, sweetly asleep in the little nest of blankets the two of you had made. Almost immediately his eyes began to sting and he swallowed a cry. Cazador didn't have you, and when Astarion ascended in his place, he could make sure nothing ever threatened the two of you again.

Arms enfold you as he snuggles tight against your back, calming as he concentrates on the rhythmic sound of your heartbeat, the motion of your chest as you breathe, the warmth of your skin, all the signs you're real and here with him. He must be holding you tighter then he thought because you stir. "Love, you alright," you murmur, half awake. 

There's a bit of guilt in waking you, but hearing your voice is a soothing balm he hadn't realised he needed. "Nothing to worry about my Sweet," he tries but his voice is shaky. 

"Another nightmare?" Now you're alert and he feels terrible. Even worse, he hasn’t been able to hide this all from you. 

"... Yes," he confesses, "Cazador." The name spills from his mouth like a curse. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Fingers lace with his where they rest over your stomach and squeeze. 

"Not really, I'm sorry." You're so kind to want to listen but he just wants to try to forget. The thoughts of Cazador have left him reeling and he worries he'll anger you by not talking, even if he can't remember a time you were actually angry at him. 

"Don't apologise, I'm here if you need me, but you don't have to tell me anything." Then miraculously, you take his hand, bring it to your lips, kiss it delicately, before cradling it with both of yours. "Love you," you whisper sweetly. 

In a completely undignified moment, he whimpers softly and holds you even tighter, kissing the back of your neck. "Love you too." He can't lose you, and soon he'll be strong enough to make sure that never happens. 

[viciousvortexx]

Some of my Vergil headcanons

just random headcanons about anything <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

★ Vergil likes to leave gifts on places he knows you could easily find, like over the table, over your bed, in front of your door. He'll always do it before he's gone for a mission, and when he's back, will casually ask while you're talking to each other, “did you like the roses?”

★ Physical touch to him is something very intimate, no hugs or something like this unless you're close to him, he watches over his personal space.

★ Still talking about physical touch, there's nothing more intimate than holding someone's hand, this means how comfortable and close you're and how much you trust this person to let your guard down to relax and hold hands. Touching hands it's like a bridge to connect yourself with someone else. Also, this means he would love to caress the back of your hand, trace the patterns of your palm, kiss it...

★ Eye contact is also very important to him, it's noticeable how hard is for Vergil to keep eye contact on casual situations, even though he's trying his best. So when those crystal clear blue eyes are locked on yours, he won't take them away unless someone else appears, eye contact is powerful and can talk more than words.

★ He loves to do cleaning, taking off his coat to wear an apron instead.

★ When hugging, he'll place one arm around your waist while his free hand gently press your head to his chest, peting your hair.

★ Secretly sings his favorite songs when no one is around.

★ Organize his books by alphabetical order.

★ Definitely would use those silk pajamas sets with buttons.

★ About Vergil's phone: the brightness will always be too high or too low, the speakers are probably low cause he was watching cute and funny cat compilations on the van and he didn't want to bother, definitely there's a lot of accidental selfies he took by opening the camera and the ringtone is LOUD, really loud (he doesn't know how to change it properly and is ashamed to ask Dante or Nero since they'll probably make fun of him).

Plus: use a lot the thumbs up emoji after someone complained he only views the messages and doesn't say anything, so he started to use the thumbs up as a reaction.

★ He likes to make his tea the old way, doesn't like tea bags.

★ Call anything technological a "device" since those things are new to him and he's learning the names and how they work. “Nero, come here, my device is broken again.”

★ The only time you would see Vergil with his hair down is when it's wet or if he's too tired to groom it (like, can't even keep his eyes open), if not, he'll always groom his hair to make it look the way it is, he's a man of routine (and also it makes him look different from his twin, so that's why he isn't going on public with his hair down).

★ He loves classical music, but that doesn't mean he isn't open to discover new genres and tunes.

★ Vergil used to make dog ears on the pages of his books when he was a kid to continue reading it later, but he noticed it crumples the paper so stopped doing it.

★ He is extremely warm because of his demon nature, just like an walking oven baking cookies, that's why cats are always attracted by him, there's often cat fur on his coat, probably Vergil faced a kitten on the streets and it started to butt the head on his legs to feel his warmth.

★ Always have a pleasant smell, unless when he's back from a mission, that's why he takes so long in the bath.

★ Loves citrus fruits.

★ Vergil takes a lot of pictures of the sky and nature, he treasures them and shows to the ones he treasures the same way.

★ Won't tell anybody if he got hurt during a mission, waiting for it to heal by itself (this also happens if he get sick).

★ Heard Dante listening to dad rock once, after that he tried to listen to a couple of songs too and started to like it.

★ Knows a bit of Latin from old books he read once.

★ Vergil is passionate and enthusiastic about the things he likes, he can spend hours talking about it with that glimmer he has on his eyes when happy.

★ The same way he likes someone to listen about his interests, also likes to be the one who listens to it from others, he's a very good listener.

★ One of his hobbies is writing his own poems on yellowed rag paper with a feather pen (things he like to buy with his money), he keeps them hide inside a little box.

[ozymandiasdirge]

something something very funny how when they meet back up in punk hazard, law is continuously baffled by the way luffy instantly seems to trust him and see him as a good person worthy of putting in trust in. and while that just an inherently very luffy trait i’m sitting here like.

law. your first two and so far only in person interactions with this man have been. 1) fighting together on the same side in a friendly show off contest with the marines. 2) you saving his life at great personal risk to yourself and your crew when literally no one else could have. if it were not for you carefully putting his organs back together he literally would have died. my brother in christ you held his literal heart in your literal hands and put it back in his chest and healed him. and didn’t ask for anything in return or every hold it over his head?

i was fully prepared for law to like…bring that up on punk hazard for his standard “give and take, you owe me a favor reasons because showing emotionally vulnerability by asking for help is scary” before growing out of it and learning that he doesn’t need to pull that shit with luffy. but he’s doesn’t????? he never brings it up and brushes it off when luffy tries to thank him???? and then wonders why luffy thinks of him as someone who heals and is kind first and foremost and chooses to care about him on purpose????? smartest fucking idiot on this show i’m so sick of him.

[emmitaaa4]

Azriel, you beautiful, complex man.

Anyone else ever lay awake at night thinking that it’s not that Azriel wants a mate, any mate: it’s that he believes only a mate—only someone who was meant to love him—could love him ?

Do you ever think about the fact that Azriel’s visceral response to Elain looking up at him with trust & hope, was to believe that there was no possible way she could ever look at him that way if she knew the things he’d done and been forced to do? If she knew that his scarred hands mirrored his marred soul? Yet we know Elain has never balked from him and has only ever seen beauty in his scars; in who he is.

Do you ever think about the way Azriel feels this need to prove himself useful—which is why he so clings to his titles and his job—for if he is needed, he cannot be abandoned?

Do you ever want to shout from the rooftops that Azriel is so much more than this « darkness » he cloaks himself in, and that he doesnt need someone to heal him & « handle his darkness ». Healing, for Az, does not mean fighting & ‘killing’ his demons, it means being at peace with himself & learning to live with them without needing to mask who he is. He needs to begin to believe that there is darkness and light in him to love.

Does your heart ever squeeze when you understand that allowing yourself to be loved, first means bearing yourself to another & willingly risking being hurt ? It requires an unparalleled level of emotional vulnerability from him. You ever realize that Az uses his shadows as an emotional crutch, that he so carefully masks his expressions, yet it takes but a look for Elain to read him? He, who finds his strength & perseverance in hope, found his match in her gentle, hopeful heart—and he physically has to keep himself apart from her, only allowing himself to act upon his feelings when she made the first move. Entitlement where?

Truly, how has the fandom decided that Azriel, who follows the sound of Elain’s laugh, who listened to her when no one else would & didnt let her be misunderstood, who trusted her with TT so she could protect herself & those she loves, who stayed up past 3am as she spoke of her passions, who made everyone wait for her to eat, who chooses to sun his wings next to her in peaceful, quiet company… is an entitled, flaky male that sees her as nothing but a sexual distraction?

Do people really not realize what it means for him to question the Cauldron, question the very core of his beliefs?

1) It is not his feelings he questions:

His mind is tortured by thoughts of Elain, so much so he can’t sleep;

They do not need words to communicate, indicating familiarity & understanding;

He IS showing more than “just lust”, it’s clear from their interactions since the first trilogy. There was something there before Nessian happened.

2) Not only does he believe himself unworthy of her, but that sentiment is reinforced by the fact that the Cauldron “broke the pattern”. I do not see the entitled man the fandom speaks of. What he is is a deeply traumatized man, who was abused as a boy by the people who were meant to love him & protect him.

The popular thought that Az would fold for a mate, regardless of who she (or he) is, is truthfully not attractive, not to mention that it implies he’d only risk love for a “guaranteed” happy ending.

=> “Az wants a mate therefore give him a mate” is counterproductive to his growth (tho to clarify, i am not saying he should not have a mate, just that there is a way the story should be told.)

We have seen him plan for snowball fights & tactical missions, yet never for his future: not with Elain—again, he never even actually allowed himself to consider pursuing her—but not in any other sense either:

Children? he tells Cass he doesnt know if he wants any—has he ever let himself imagine having a child? A house ? he has no place to himself. Remember that even after 500 years of existence, Az says he still does not know where he belongs?

Could you not imagine two people who make themselves what others need them to be, being brave enough to bare those hidden, repressed parts of themselves to the other. Can you not see the growth it would require from both of them should they give themselves a chance? To, on one hand, choose the other despite what is expected & the problems it would cause, and on the other, be vulnerable enough to receive that love & believe yourself worthy of it.

Love doesnt care for convenience. It could all go to hell but at least they’d know they had tried, and i do not see how that could ever make for a boring, 2 dimensional story.

[tadpolebrains]

Angst brain time

Bg3 Companions Crying

Astarion not crying immediately after Cazador’s body is limp at his feet. Feeling numb, pained, screaming hoarsely, but no tears falling. It isn’t until later that night, back at the tavern, when he’s curled up in your arms and the blood has been cleaned from every part of him that they finally do. And it’s cathartic. Silent sobs at first which make him shake in your arms, then louder against your chest once you’ve assured him it’s ok. You aren’t leaving. He’s allowed to have this. While he practically never cried before that, after that he finds himself tearing up at such seeming insignificant things as he heals. The barrier broke, and it’s not going back up.

Lae’zel not processing what’s happening at first after learning the truth about Vlaakith. What is this foreign wetness in her eyes, and why won’t it go away? Despising how it feels and angrily trying to wipe them away. No, she’s not crying, how dare you suggest that? She must be allergic to all of the idiots surrounding her. When she’s alone, she tries to just get it out and get it over with without witnessing eyes, but gets frustrated when the tears won’t fall. It’s only in someone else’s presence that they seem to insist on forming, and that annoys her to no end. It’s only once she feels completely safe with you that she’ll cry one night in your presence, but god forbid you utter a word about it the next day.

Gale will get teared up over good things. When you first found Scratch, he was so relieved when the poor dog managed to find your camp later that he almost cried while petting him. Give him a hug, he gets choked up. Accepting his condition with the orb and allowing him to stay? Choked up. But with bad things, he isn’t as affected when those bad things pertain to him. His own possible death? Well, he resigned himself to that a while ago. He has more of a freeze and shut down response to bad things than a crying one. Once the final battle is over, though, and he realizes he gets to live… well, he ugly cries into your arms that night.

Shadowheart can only manage to cry by herself. She’s cried some nights about her lost memories, or if the pain in her hand flares up when she’s alone. But in front of other people, even you, she can never seem to. She doesn’t understand it, because she trusts you, but even if she’s upset all she feels is this heavy weight in her chest until she’s alone and the dam breaks. The only exception seems to be if she gets drunk.

Wyll is a quiet crier. He can be crying and still be breathing completely evenly, not even noticeable apart from the tears streaming down his cheeks. And he’ll try to smile through it if it’s something sad, reassuring you as if you’re the only who needs comforting for witnessing his breakdown. One of the only times he’s ugly-sobbed was the night Mizora turned him- until his throat was raw and his eyes stung, alone in his tent. Will tear up if you’re the one crying. On the flipside, also the type to laugh so hard he cries sometimes. He enjoys those moments of sheer joy.

Karlach tears up a lot. She’s just a naturally emotional person, and has no shame for it. Happy? Tears. Sad? Tears? You’re sad? Definitely tears. Cried from sheer relief when she got to cuddle someone the first night after getting her engine fixed. Sometimes, she’ll just start crying for no particular reason, and won’t even be able to explain it to herself, let alone you. “No, soldier, I’m alright. Don’t even know what this is, hah!”

Halsin doesn’t cry much. Years upon years of dealing with other people’s problems, comforting other people, going through long-winded arguments with other druids- eventually, a lot of things stopped making him as emotional as they used to. Even some nights where the guilt of the shadow-curse seem to weigh heavy on his chest, he just feels… stuck. Immobile. But not crying. When the curse is lifted on the lands, though, for the first time in a long while, he finds a single tear slipping from his eye as he smiles wider and more genuinely than he has for centuries.

[harmoonix]

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- 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼 -

Cause I never knew, I never knew

You could hold moonlight in your hands

Til the night I held you

You are my moonlight

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✶ Moon at 0° degrees enters in a very big and unique cycle, can be born with healing powers, and a very healing personality. These people can be new souls or people who came on earth to start something very important

✶ Moon at the 29° degrees is in the last stage before starting a new cycle, here the Moon has learned and went through a lot of stages. People with Moon at 29° can feel like old souls they can be very wise and powerful, and most of times is very hard for natives to let go of their feelings or to talk about how they feel, they have a big knowledge and can learn very fast. These people can master a lot of things

✶ Moon in the 1st house can make you very angelic, omg these people are so pretty and they are so sensible, they can be very spiritual. I would love to have this placement is definitely a very strong placement

✶ Moon harmonious aspecting the Ascendant can be very identical to people with Moon in the 1st house they look very angelic but they can be very sensitive and artistic, very melancholic and nostalgic

✶ Moon harsh aspecting the ascendant can be over-emotional and sensitive, they have a big feeling to care about everyone and they always make sure everyone is feeling good and safe and sometimes these people can care too much and to not be appreciated enough. These natives are very pretty, they tend to have a very pretty aesthetic and good taste in everything they do. These natives most times feel too deep and too intense and not everyone can understand their feelings, so they can feel misunderstood most times.

✶ Moon in Scorpio/8th house, these people are very intense and deep in feelings, they can have major trust issues due to their past experiences, they can feel every change of mood and every new sensations. These natives can feel when you lie to them, but mostly with moon here they can heal deeper after every breakup or bad situation, this placement is a karmic one who can indicate even a very painful past life

✶ Moon in the 10th house is another karmic placement, here your feelings, emotions,fears can be revealed to the public and people around you. These natives can have a very hard time describing their feelings to other people, they are not cold but they like to keep their feelings only do themselves to protect them. They can be very anxious, but here the Moon makes you to be very successful in your chosen career and can help you to choose the best for you.

✶ Moon positive aspecting Mercury (sextile,trine, conjunction) here you combine your emotions and feelings with communicating, it can be very easy for you to express yourself and your feelings and you can be very emotional in words, i observed people with such aspects can be shy around new people.

✶ Moon in Leo/5th house can become addicted very fast, especially addicted to their friends and i see these people getting jealous when they friends hangout with someone else and is not them. These natives can possess a lot of artistic talents, and can be very nurturing 🥹 especially to the kids. Kids x

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✶ Moon negative aspecting Mercury (square, opposition and conjunction) these people are the opposite, it can be hard for them to open up or to talk about their feelings they can be very insecure if they said something wrong while talking and they are afraid to do mistakes while talking. Especially Moon opposite Mercury they stress themselves to not do any mistakes while talking. These natives can also gesticulate a lot while taking to make themselves feel better

✶ Moon aspecting Neptune gives a very alluring aura and a very emotional nature to the native, they can feel your soul wounds and most people with these placements can heal others by trying to make themselves feel better, they might also like to give hugs ༼⁠ ⁠つ⁠ ⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠ ⁠༽⁠つ

✶ Moon - Ceres aspects, these people need nurturing + affection + hugs + healing + hot chocolate. So it's a very nurturing placement these natives can be very needy of others, they can have a very healing relationship with their mother (if positive aspects are present), they can be send you a lot of comfort just by their presence you can feel safe

✶ Moon in 3rd house might have s strong bounding with their siblings, but i aslo can feel these people like to snitch on their siblings a lot too 🤣, they can also be very sensitive talking about their siblings. If you have Moon in the 3rd house but you have no siblings the moon here just makes you to be very creative and stubborn yet, you can be very good at writing romantic poems

✶Moon in the 11th house gets very attached to their friends, they can't resist without texting their besties 24/7, every rumour, every gossip, these natives radiate that energy of "One for all and all for one vibe". They can sacrifice a lot for their friends such sweet people

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Moon in Sagittarius people laugh 24/7, i swear even in like serious situations they hold their laughs and try so bad to not laugh 🤣🤣🤣 this can also apply if you have Moon at Sagittarius Degrees (9°, 21°)/Moon in the 9th house...Omg and i forgot to tell that once they start laughing is very hard for them to stop because they will remember that funny thing forever

Moon in Virgo people are so organised they try to be perfectionist people and their will for doing things is so strong they are like "If i started this, i will finish it". But sometimes they can be so stubborn and omggg they can get angry so fast they are like "This thing didn't ended up how i planned and boom 🤯💥😠…they explode." This can apply if you Moon in the 6th house or at Virgo Degrees (6°,18°)

Moon in Libra loves physical touch, they are very touchy and most of them wanna have a very deep bounding with their partners, they are in love with love basically, romantism at its finest, but these people crave affection so much, they can be so lovely and sweet. This can apply if you have the Moon in the 7th house or at Libra Degrees (7°,19°)

Moon in Cancer makes the natives over protective kinda of their lovers and family members they want everyone to feel protected and good around them. This can apply if you have the Moon in the 4th house or at Cancer Degrees (4°,16°,28°)

Moon in Capricorn can be one of the most painful placements for the moon to be in, but in the same time is a very powerful placement, it give you power to control your fears and to explore you shadow side. Never be afraid of Darkness when Darkness can be your friend 🫂💖. You are a very powerful force of nature and don't let nobody to hurt you.

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If you don't have any of these placements, please don't worry i will make more parts of such series, and as i say, always remember to check your sidereal placements if you feel that something doesn't resonate with you.

With love, Harmoonix ❣️

[faithfulren]

too late

thank u all so much for 500 likes !! <3

on graduation day at UA high school, katsuki decides to confess his long-held feelings to you, but he does so too late. overwhelmed by pride and fear of rejection, he struggles to express himself, finally admitting his love just as you arrive with another classmate. with a heavy heart, you explain that you've moved on, leaving bakugo to grapple with the consequences of his silence.

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the atmosphere at UA High was electric with the excitement of graduation. students in their caps and gowns buzzed with the anticipation of a future full of possibilities. among them, katsuki stood off to the side, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching as friends and classmates celebrated. his crimson eyes searched the crowd until they landed on you, standing with your friends, laughing and smiling, a sight that never failed to stir something deep within him.

bakugo had always been terrible at expressing his feelings. his pride and stubbornness often kept him from saying what truly mattered. today, he felt a sense of urgency he couldn’t ignore. graduation meant everyone would go their separate ways, and he might never get another chance to tell you how he felt.

taking a deep breath, he strode over to where you stood. “hey, can we talk?” he asked, his voice gruffer than intended.

you turned to face him, surprise evident on your face. “sure, bakugo. what’s up?”

he glanced around, not wanting an audience. “somewhere private.”

you nodded, and the two of you walked to a quiet corner of the courtyard. bakugo could feel his heart pounding in his chest. this was it.

“i've got something to say,” he began, avoiding your eyes. “i’m not good at this stuff, but… i like you. i’ve liked you for a long time.”

the confession hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words and emotions. bakugo finally looked at you, his eyes burning with a mix of hope and fear.

your expression softened, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes. “bakugo… i—”

before you could finish, another voice interrupted. “hey, y/n, ready to go?”

bakugo’s heart sank as he turned to see a fellow classmate approaching, a boy who had been a close friend of yours throughout high school. the look in his eyes and the way he smiled at you spoke volumes. bakugo’s fists clenched at his sides.

“yeah, i’m ready,” you replied, giving bakugo an apologetic smile. “bakugo, i really appreciate what you said. i do. but… i’m with someone now. i’ve moved on.”

bakugo felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. he had waited too long, let his pride get in the way, and now you were no longer his to claim.

“right,” he muttered, struggling to keep his composure. “good for you.”

you reached out, touching his arm gently. “you’re an amazing person, bakugo. i hope you find happiness too.”

he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. you walked away, leaving him standing there, a mixture of regret and sorrow coursing through him.

as you disappeared into the crowd, bakugo clenched his jaw, fighting the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. he had always prided himself on being strong, on never showing weakness. but in that moment, as he watched you walk away with someone else, he realized that true strength sometimes meant acknowledging your own mistakes and learning to let go.

with a final, heavy sigh, bakugo turned away, determined to carry on and become the hero he was meant to be. hoping that someday, he would find someone who could help heal the scars left behind by his unspoken love for you.

[formulapai]

DIDN’T DESERVE IT

a Daniel Ricciardo angst

WORDS COUNT: 2000 ish

scenario: he’s treating his new girlfriend in ways he never treated you: with respect.

warning: major angst, daniel being an asshole in the past but owning up to his mistakes

pai’s words: heartbroken rn so bear with me

It’s not jealousy.

She’s ethereal, breathtakingly perfect, she has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and eyes as clear as a summer day. Her voice is like angles sighing, a terribly sweet melody rings when she laughs. Her tears are as sublime as an enraged sea, violent in its beauty.

It’s not jealousy, no.

He holds her with a new confidence but still treats her as delicate porcelain, his whole being overflowing with gentleness. He’s her confident and her therapist, he’s battling her demons with a disarming smile and he’s wiping her eyes with fingers as dainty as possible.

It’s not jealousy, it’s never been.

It’s longing, it’s the inability to understand, it’s mourning.

He came to talk to you, after years of waiting, years of wishing. He knocked on your door, heart in his hand, a whole new person you haven’t met yet. He’s not your Daniel, not the Daniel you used to know. He’ll never be again.

It’s painful to let him in, it’s angering to notice the way he doesn’t treat your apartment like home anymore (but why would he?), it’s disconcerting to sit on the couch next to him, it’s relieving to finally talk.

“- You’re a different man, a different lover now. It’s what she deserves, it’s what you deserve too.

- It’s what you deserved and what I couldn’t give you. I’m sorry, Y/N, I truly am.”

You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t allow it. He doesn’t deserve any more of your tears, you’ve cried an ocean already.

“- Why didn’t you give it to me, then ? Why did you treat me like this ?

- I didn’t know how to love, you’ve taught me, years after years. I’m sorry that I’ve taught you how to hurt in the process, I’m sorry that I took so much and gave you so little.”

You can see a new tattoo, an intricate drawing on his forearm, next to the one he did when you were still together. It’s almost glowing, so different from the others with how obviously full of love it is. Did she draw that ?

“ - You gave me nothing except pain and regrets, Daniel. Wasn’t I worthy ? Am I not worthy ?

- You’re worthy of so, so much. You were worthy at the time, too, you were worthy as I was blind. You’re the best thing that happened to me, even now. You’ve made who I am today and I can’t be more grateful.

- You’ve made me who I am too, and I can’t be more deceived. It’s not fair, I never deserved it. I don’t deserve to be this full of fear and scars, I’m always so scared I’ll give my heart again, and get it back in pieces, again. It’s all scarred now that I’ve finally put it back together, I don’t think it can stomach another love.

- It’s healing, you’re healing. You’ve picked yourself up and you did amazing at stitching yourself up, all alone. I wasn’t there but I saw it all, how you grew despite the pain, how your smile never left. In the one that caused it, I know what I’m talking about, trust me. Your heart will love again and so will you, and it’ll be worthy again, and it’ll be easy, this time.”

You grew, yes. Maybe you grew too much, feeling alien in your body, in your home, in everyone’s life. You’re not who you were and you’ll never be again, you grew out of your happiness.

“- What if I can’t love anymore ? I always think about you, whenever someone approaches me, it’s your face I see. How can I love again when my heart is shaped for you, when my whole body grew around you ? How can I love anyone else when you’re the one who created my love in the first place. I didn’t even know what love was before you, I learned with you, too. I learned how to love because of you, not thanks to you, yet I never treated you like you treated me. You’re not the only one who didn’t know better.

- I know. You’re made for love, you’ve always been. It’s so natural for you, no one could ever tell it was your first time too, even I doubted it sometimes. Your whole being is made of love, full of it, spilling on everyone and everything. You love fully and with no mercy, you love discreetly, you love quietly sometimes but most of the time you love proudly. One thing’s sure, you always love. You love the people you should hate, you love the pain, you love the anger, you love the bee that stung you during our last summer together. You love your family and you love your friends, you love your customers. Y/N, you’ve surrounded yourself with so much love that you don’t even notice it anymore. You’ll be fine, you’ll love again and again.”

You do love that bee. You loved the sting, loved the trip to the ER when your swollen finger got stuck in your promise ring, loved how Daniel told you he’d wait for you at the house instead of coming with you, loved how he didn’t send any messages the whole time.

“- I can’t, not this kind of love. It’s only you, Daniel, I can only see you, imagine you. I don’t understand how you moved on and I’m still stuck there, I feel like I’m going crazy. I desperately wish that I could find someone new and change, the same way you did, but it’s always you. You’re haunting me, you’re haunting my heart and my mind, even after all this time. I tried so hard to forget you and meet new lovers, you don’t know how much I’ve tried to get over you and everything you’ve put me through. But when he tells me I’m beautiful, I wait for the part where he says I should change how I look. When he tells me he’s interested in my stories, I wait for the part where he tells me he’d rather be drunk than to listen to me. When he tells me he wants me, I wait for the part where he tells me I can’t even make him hard. When he tells me he wants me to meet his parents, I wait for the part where he tells me they’ll hate me anyway. When he wants to watch a movie with me, I wait for the part where he turns the TV off and tells me my movie choices are as dumb as me. It’s always because of you, I don’t know how to shut your voice up or how to ignore it. He’s the kindest soul I’ve ever met, he deserves so much more than what I’m able to give him right now, I won’t be able to give him what I gave you, not ever.

- You don’t have to give him what you gave me, Y/N. Each and every love is different, you know, you don’t love the same way ever again. I don’t love you how I love my girlfriend. I don’t love you how I’ve loved my first ex, or the second one. And you don’t love me like you’ve loved the boy you fell for in middle school. You won’t love him the same way you love me, and that’s the beauty in it, isn’t it ? You think you know love, you think you’ve seen love, but you discover love again and again, days after days, persons after persons. You won’t love him like you love me, you will love him better, because he’s treating you better, you’ll find a new love just for him, made for him, created mostly by him. He’ll teach you like you’ve taught me, like she’s teaching me right now. You were amazing at showing me love, but what she’s showing me is totally different, and that’s amazing. You take tiny things from each of your loves and create a new one with them, that’s how you grow, that’s how you learn. I’m sure he knows it, I’m sure he understands you.

- He’s your friend, he’s going to see how I love you. I’ll never not love you, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.

- And it’s fine, I love you too. It’s just different now, I’ve found a love that fitted me better. You’ve found it too, I know it. I see it. It’s platonic now, you’re just scared to admit it to yourself because it comforts you to think you’re in love with me still.

- I know, you’re right. Is it ok if I want to keep you in my life ? As a friend or as a stranger, I think I just need you in my life.

- As long as I can keep you in mine, it’s alright. She loves you, you know. She’s never met you but she’s heard so much from you, by me. She wants to meet you if you’re alright with it, you’ll love her too.”

It’s strange, isn’t it ? They should part ways and hate each other, that’s what exes do, no ? She should hate you and your whole existence just for the sake of being his ex, and you should hate her and their new relationship. It should have smashed his friendship with Max to pieces, it seems to strengthen it.

It’s a beautiful thing, really. How one bad person can grow into a good one, with efforts and trials. How one person can love, and love again, and never tire. How forgiveness can be as simple as hate, as despair.

“- Thank you Daniel, I mean it. Thank you for your apology, thank you for being there, thank you for what we’ve went through.

- Thank you for listening, thank you for forgiving me. You’re a beautiful person, you deserve a beautiful love story.”

He went like he came, confidently. When you door is closed, you fish out your phone out of the pocket of your pants, shakily pressing a finger on his call ID. You need to tell him.

“- Hey, darling, what’s up ?

- I love you.”

There’s a pause, a silence, almost insurmountable.

“- I know, don’t worry. I love you too, I promise.

- I’ll never love you like him, I’m sorry. But I love you like.. well, like you. I don’t know if it’s better, but it’s different, and it’s great. It’s going to work.

- I know it will.”

It’s not jealousy, it’s a love you thought you’ve lost.

It’s never been jealousy.