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naminethewriter · 2 months

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Extra Service

Chapter Two: The Brother

Masterpost | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Ao3

Hello everyone! I'm finally returning to this story and hopefully the third chapter won't take me as long as this one has 😅 Please be mindful of the content warnings, if you would rather skip this chapter, there is a summary of it at then end of the Ao3 link.

Story Summary: Remus hadn't expected to work as a housekeeper at a hotel managed by his best friend but he wasn't complaining. Especially if it gives him the opportunity to keep a (very attractive) guest from overworking himself.

Content Warnings: Past Roman/Virgil, Discussion of Past Self Neglect, bordering on self harm, but not from the person themselves

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Soon Logan had showered and the salad had arrived. Remus used the time in between to roughly vacuum the room and use some air refreshener so he could finally close the windows. He also pushed the books and papers around to make space on the tabledesk for the salad. Thankfully nothing fell to the floor (though some of the stacks were very wobbly and Remus couldn’t help but imagine what it would look like if one crashed into the salad and food and plate shards would fly everywhere. His brain tried to get him to topple it, but he managed to resist. Barely.)

Logan emerged from the bathroom in shirt and sweatpants (since Remus had refused to let him take another suit), a towel around his shoulder and still trying to dry his hair. Remus grinned at him and stood behind the chair as if he were a gentleman offering a seat to his lady. He could be courteous if he wanted to be!

“Is this really necessary?” Logan asked, eyeing him skeptically.

“No,” Remus grinned but didn’t move. The other sighed and sat down without another word. Remus pushed his chair closer to the tabledesk with a giggle before sitting down himself and resting his elbows on the polished wood, watching Logan intently. The other raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you intent to watch me eat?”

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“To make sure you finish! Also thought this is a good opportunity to tell you why I’m doing this! You said you wanted to know and it’s gonna take a while, so…”

Logan sighed again but picked up the fork Remus had placed in its proper place next to the plate, motioning for him to continue.

“Very well. Do explain yourself.”

“Chance to ramble? I will take it!” Remus grinned at Logan, who looked a bit more reprehensive but didn’t protest. Instead, he started eating his salad, though his eyes remained on Remus for the most part. Before starting his explanation, Remus took a moment to appreciate how Logan’s lips closed around his fork. He really hoped he’d get an opportunity to taste those lips for himself. Only with consent, of course.

‘Focus on the issue now, fantasize about the hot nerd later!’ he reminded himself.

“You see, I have a brother, a twin, actually,” Remus began, leaning back in his seat. “He’s a bit of a dumbass but has a good heart, y’know? We’re both the creative types, though I mostly work with sculptures, art, and pottery – I teach a late-night class actually! Doesn’t pay well, but it’s fun for the most part – while he’s more of a writer. He’s also a perfectionist, which I am most definitely not, I let my hands wander and see where they get me!” Remus winked at Logan but either the other didn’t understand his innuendo or had a great poker face. ‘Uhhh, you should invite him to play strip poker with you! That’d be fun!’ He tabledesked that idea for later, he should probably ask him on a more normal date first and see where that’ll lead him.

“Aaaaaaanyway,” Remus continued, “my brother decided he wanted to write a play and then perform it in our local theater where he works. His boss basically green-lit the whole thing after Ro-bro gave him the pitch but had some guidelines. Nothing major, but enough that my brother felt the pressure.”

Remus could see Logan watching him intently – those deep green eyes were so hot – while he slowly chewed his food. He seemed the observant type, but even if he wasn’t, it was hard to miss the shift in tone. Remus couldn’t tell this story without being somber, it was a time he didn’t like revisiting.

“Roman threw himself into his work. It was fun at first, see him talk about it so passionately, what his plans for the characters were, the twists and turns and how he could see it performed on stage already. His boyfriend at the time was also super supportive, the both of us rubber ducking him constantly.” A wry smile played on Remus’ lips. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“But writing’s fucking hard if you didn’t know. The words can be perfectly aligned in your head but once you put them to paper they look mangled, like rotting corpses you clumsily stitched together and suddenly the eyes aren’t on the same height and one arm’s longer than the other and you forgot a nipple and maybe even a spleen, so how are you supposed to create a functioning monster?!”

“I understand your point, Remus,” Logan cut in before he could get even more lost in the rather gruesome picture he was figuratively painting. “I assume your brother struggled with the writing process once he got started.”

“Yeah, he did. Like a lot. And when he can’t get what’s in his head on the page the way he wants it to be, he gets frustrated and that leads to him struggling with the words even more and it’s a vicious circle. He started spending more and more time at his desk. When he wasn’t working, he was writing. Or attempting to write. He started losing sleep. I often had to drag him to meals. He cancelled plans or didn’t show up at all because he forgot all about them. It was really worrying.

“And it really put his boyfriend on edge. Like the dude’s been a friend of mine before he got together with my brother and anxiety is like half of his personality. So having plans cancelled on him constantly and his boyfriend not taking care of himself properly led to some problems.”

Remus’ had to make a conscious effort to relax his hands after they curled into fists. To be honest, he still hadn’t entirely forgiven Roman for how he treated Virgil during the last legs of their relationship. It hadn’t been fair to the Emo and while his brother had admitted to his faults, Remus just couldn’t get Virgil’s red-rimmed eyes out of his mind. ‘You should revisit that idea about dunking his head in the toilet bowl’ his head suggested and Remus waved the idea off. Roman would wiggle too much.

“It came to a head eventually and the guy broke up with him. Which sucked because I liked him, but because of his anxiety he needed a clean break, so he asked me not to contact him either for a while. Which turned out to be never, but that was more my fault than his I guess.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. (Remus wondered how often he worked on those; they were immaculately symmetrical.)

“What do you mean by more your fault?” he asked.

“Well, like I said, I was friends with the guy so I knew that he would have trouble reaching out to me first. I should’ve contacted him after the situation settled somewhat, but I didn’t.”

“Why?”

Remus chuckled but it was a dry and sad sound.

“I… always had the feeling that he was kinda afraid of me. I know I come on strong, and I have intrusive thoughts and keeping them in my head is hard, so I usually blurt them out or use them for my art and he… well, it often triggered his anxiety. I didn’t really want to contact him and have him feel like he needed to talk to me again.”

Virgil had been a good sport about it most of the time but even before he started dating Roman, he had visited Remus in his art studio less and less. He took great care to censor his words in front of him, too, but it sucked that he couldn’t discuss things with Virgil freely anymore. It was like he had to be constantly on guard around the man and it only got worse during Roman’s breakdown.

Remus missed Virgil, but he figured he was better off without him in his life. At least Janus still contacted him once in a while, so he knew he was doing well enough. It was a small comfort.

Logan had put his fork aside and was watching Remus with his piercing green eyes. He felt like a bug underneath a microscope and that shouldn’t have had him as hot and bothered as it did. Well, not literally bothered – don’t get him wrong, the dude was hot and being examined by him so intently was a nice bonus, but Remus needed more than that to actually get physically excited.

It would lead to new fantasies however; he was sure of that.

“I get the impression that that conclusion is based on a cognitive distortion,” Logan commented eventually. Remus just blinked at him. “In other words, I think you are jumping to a conclusion. If that man was your friend for as long as you are implying, then I am sure he would appreciate you contacting him again.”

“You stopped eating,” Remus said instead of answering and after a few moments of simply staring at each other (‘Staring contest! Staring contest! How long would it take for their eyes to dry out?), Logan relented with a sigh and picked his fork back up.

“Very well, I will not meddle in your personal affairs. Unlike other people, I respect such boundaries.”

Remus cackled at the obvious jab at his intrusion and as he calmed down, he could see a small smile on Logan’s lips, though he tried to hide it behind the next bite of his meal.

“Well, back to the story: my brother got dumped. Which I had hoped would be a wake-up call for him to quit the bullshit and realize how bad he’s gotten. But instead he doubled down. Every waking minute he had that wasn’t spend at work, he was writing the script – or more accurately, he tried writing it. More and more often I would hear him shouting at his laptop about how nothing was going like he wanted it to, how it needed to be perfect, how he would show everyone that he could do it.

“I tried to get him to eat and sleep, but it would only end up in yelling matches. We both don’t have great tempers and more than once I stormed off and didn’t return until like a day later. I don’t think he left his desk in those days…”

Remus sighed, remembering the sorry state of his brother, hunched over his laptop with bags under his eyes that reminded him so much of Virgil that Remus was almost glad that Roman was hardly going to the bathroom so he wouldn’t catch his own reflection in the mirror.

It had been an absolute trainwreck.

“Eventually, my brother collapsed during one of our fights. Passed out on the spot. I barely managed to catch him before he would’ve hit his head on the ground. He woke up only moments after and tried to convince me that it was just a dizzy-spell and that it wasn’t anything to worry about, but I had enough. I carried him off to the hospital right then and there.”

Roman had fought him the entire way, cursing at him and demanding to be brought back home. He almost fainted again in the car since he worked himself up so much. Remus had thought about pulling into the oncoming traffic and putting them both out of their misery – the stress had made his intrusive thoughts so much worse.

“I got him to cooperate by saying that if nothing was wrong, the doctor would just let him go home and I’d leave him alone afterwards if that was the case. He still complained though. Then he was diagnosed with severe malnutrition and anemia. He had to stay there for a few days.”

“And did he do so without complaint?”

Remus had almost forgotten Logan was there. Almost. He looked back at the other – after he had apparently just stared at the wall for the last few minutes – to see that he had finished his plate.

Good.

“Yeah. I’m not entirely sure what happened since I wasn’t allowed to be there when they took his vitals and shit but apparently one of the nurses laid into him about proper self-care and that he could’ve killed himself. I think only then he truly registered how bad it’s gotten.”

“I see…” Logan looked thoughtfully at his empty plate and Remus just watched him until he spoke up again. “And what happened after? Did your brother finish the play?”

“He did. Took a long break from it though. Went to therapy. He’s doing well now, has a sleep and eating schedule and goes to the gym on the regular. It’s kind of annoying how toned he’s getting. Jan sure appreciates it though.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows, but once again Logan doesn’t react to his implications.

“What about the performance?”

“What performance?”

“Of the play. You said that your brother was ensured that he could perform the play at his place of employment.”

“Oh! He didn’t go through with it.”

Logan blinked at him, surprised.

“What do you mean ‘he didn’t go through with it’? Doesn’t that make the entire ordeal worthless?”

“It wasn’t worthless,” Remus said softly, feeling like this might be the point where he can get through to Logan. “Roman learned a lot from it. So did I, to be honest. The entire thing helped my brother to grow as a person. Yeah, he finished the play, but he had to rewrite around half of it since what he wrote during his mania was either awful, extremely personal, and or sometimes even harmful. And even after all that editing, he still found it too close to his heart to publish. He says that maybe sometime down the line, when he’s healed more, then he'd put it on, but not right now.”

“I… think I understand. Still, I cannot shake the belief that it means his struggles were for naught.”

“I know where you’re coming from, but productivity isn’t all we live for. Learning from our struggles and teaching that to those who come after us is what I think we’re supposed to do.”

“That is quite the profound way to see the world.”

Remus shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

“Maybe. It’s at least what led to me coming in through that door and forcing you to take care of yourself. Which reminds me, you should be going to bed.” He got up and pulled at Logan’s arm.

“Sleep?! It’s the middle of the day!” the other protested, but Remus remained insistent and led him over to the freshly made, plush bed.

“Yeah, but that hardly matters when you’ve been up for who knows how many hours. Your eyebags make you look like a raccoon. Oh, maybe I should’ve gotten you your dinner out of the garbage bins outside!”

Finally, he managed to push Logan onto the bed who looked at him with trepidation.

“I cannot go to sleep, I need to finish my work,” he insisted.

“Pish-posh, I bet you can barely remember what you’ve been writing for the past few hours anyway. Get some rest and then look over what you wrote again, I’m sure you’ll want to make some changes. Sleep-deprived brains rarely put out the work in a quality you want.” Remus pushed at his shoulders until Logan was lying down and then covered him with a blanket.

“Fine,” the other sighed. “But I need to set an alarm. I have a deadline.”

“How about I’m gonna come by when my shift ends in—” Remus glanced at his wristwatch— “about four hours? I’ll help you sort through those books, too, since I kinda just put them together willy-nilly.”

“I guess that’s acceptable.”

It seemed that lying down had a quick effect on Logan as he let out a long yawn and snuggled deeper into the comforting warmth. Remus smiled, proud to see him follow his advice and relax.

“Then see you in a few, Lolo! Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

“If they do, I’ll sue you.”

Remus grinned as he listened to Logan’s half-asleep mumble before he gathered up his used dishes and silently tiptoed out of the room.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

#namiswriting #my writing #Extra Service #Chapter 2: The Brother #platonic intrulogical #past prinxiety #ts logan #logan sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #human!au #discussion of past self neglect #multichapter fic #sanders sides #fanfiction #reblogs are appreciated

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celestialtarot11 · 3 months

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The Imprisonment of The Soul- The Moon

Hi friends! Today we’re discussing the imprisonment of the soul through esoteric astrology. I found this to be incredibly interesting. But I wanted to combine it with the wisdom traditional astrology offers 🤗🤍

The moon represents the stifling of our soul, in esoteric astrology. What holds our souls ability to channel itself. But in traditional astrology, where the moon is can place insight to channel our emotional wisdom.

🤍The Fire Signs🤍

Aries moon 🥀🤍- Aries represents the exalted form of the sun. Leo is domicile, but since Aries is exalted, the ego plays a big role in the natives life. Fear, doubt, mental imprisonment is more likely for the native to experience (although honestly any one can! Just remember) The stifling begins with the ego since in esoteric astrology, Aries rules the first process of a mans metaphorical death. The ego must dissolve, burn and turn into ashes. Without this process it’s easy for the native to live through the ego as a way to escape. The ego is what first blocks the process of healing. Ego doesn’t necessarily mean jealousy, hatred or evil. It’s our fears, the narrative we replay and repeat, the experiences we cling onto that are unhealthy! Look to the sun sign placements and sign itself to tell you how you stifle yourself. For example Aries moon, sun in the 12h, you stifle yourself by self undoing. You relive old experiences and patterns as a way to maintain safety, especially abandonment. 12h: this will continue to play out as mental health crisis or mental health issues.

Leo moon 🍵🤍- In esoteric astrology, Leo is the King. The giver of life. The sun and moon balance here can actually create imbalance if the native is not aware of the stifling and how it begins. When positioned with the moon, the endings, death, and what must be left behind (esoteric teachings) the Sun will always bring back the dead. It’s easy for Leo moon to relive the past and stay stuck is nostalgia, as Leo finds themselves craving that part of them in that experience. They cling onto one version, instead of the multifaceted truth they are. Sounds like my cancer moon babies for sure 😂 but back on track! Leo also represents the soul consciousness, the achievement of the soul. In esoteric astrology, the stifling begins when the native pursues to live in the ego, abandoning the soul work. Shadow work. Much like Aries, Leo also has to learn to work with the ego, but not live through it. Implementing soul practices, rituals and shadow work can help the native. Leo also rules the role we play in society so its easy for Leo to feel like a puppet, entertainer, or fall under social pressures and that stifles the self. The growth of the soul. Leo is multifaceted and has many roles in people’s lives, including themselves, so playing only one can easily block growth. Look to where the sun falls for further information on how it contributes to this placements. For example, sun in the 6h: Stifling begins by overworking the self, perfectionist tendencies, and not caring for the physical!

Sagittarius moon 🫧🧖‍♀️🤍- The stifling of Sagittarius begins with the mind, imprisonment and relying only on materialistic desires to grow. Most of you are aware of the famous bow and arrow depicting Sagittarius. In esoteric astrology, the bow and arrow represents direction, thought, and with the man holding it, he is the willpower and awareness. Pure consciousness. The stifling begins when man isn’t aware of the power of his mind. The power of intention, thought, and action. The stifling begins as the native refuses to look within themself for direction, answer and willpower. The native ends up traveling outwardly, relying on materialistic gains as a position of power. Or on others opinion for direction, neglecting their own needs. When Sagittarius loses focus, their direction and willpower dims and eventually they get tunnel vision. They don’t know where they belong. In esoteric astrology, Sagittarius is the seat of intuition, before climbing a mountain to reach a point of completion (Capricorn) Sagittarius must get in touch with itself. Before reaching the point of intuition, Sagittarius must go through metaphoric death in Scorpio. Where all materialistic ideals, desires, ego is diminished and buried for better growth. What stifles this process, is resistance. Resistance to inner work, avoidance of the self. Over indulgence in external reality, as Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter. Look to where Jupiter is to see what you overly rely on, and how it can contribute to neglect of the soul. For example, Jupiter in the 5h, excessive limerence (self regulating through romantic obsession) attachment to friends/social status.

🥀The Air Signs🥀

Aquarius moon 🌞🫧- Many of you are aware of the water bearer, Aquarius. And its usual image depiction of the vase with water flowing, or the water being held. Contained. The stifling begins when Aquarius is sucking in the metaphorical death of all, and not releasing what isn’t theirs. I say this because Aquarius is a sign of intuition, deep connection with the mass consciousness. Aquarius is sensitive to the energies around, therefore can mold themselves into what people need, which contributes to their multifaceted self. However, since its the water bearer, it can hold onto the many wounds and pains of others easily, and feel they are carrying the weight of the world. Their energy can easily remain stuck, blocked and struggle to flow in their body, mind and soul. Most of the time, Aquarius will realize they are working through others pain, not necessarily themselves. When it’s in the position of the moon, Aquarius can imprison their energy to others, imprison themselves based on expectations set by others, and stifle their uniqueness. Aquarius is associated with the Spring in esoteric astrology, it’s meant to give life, nurture and bring together. Aquarius has the ability to stifle their growth, set limitations, and yet surpass them as they heal. They have the ability to decay, grow, and thrive. Ruled by Saturn in traditional astrology, Aquarius has the ability to sustain life, connection and inner peace for as long as they transmute their pain. What stifles Aquarius is staying within the boundaries of the mind. Lots of Aquarius can easily manifest because when they step out the rigidity of the mind, they step into higher consciousness and awareness, therefore accessing higher energies. Check where Saturn is in your chart to see how your energy remains blocked, stifled and in which areas of your life you need dedication & effort.

Libra moon ✨☁️- With only one ray of constellation depicting libra, the constellation of intelligence, Libras are highly in touch with the workings of their mind. Their stifling also begins in the mind. Mind vs heart. Libra is known for its love and romance yet in esoteric astrology, not ruled by any love related constellations. In another post, I talked about Libras being exalted by Saturn, and how they are meant to meet themselves in order to meet others. Their connection comes from the self. The stifling begins in the mind where Libra enjoys setting rules, and wanting a sense of control and mastery. But Libras can only meet others as much as they met themselves. Their detachment and sense of restriction in relationships and personally, can contribute to their stifle. Holding themselves emotionally at a distance with others, and not allowing themselves to open up truly to the natural flow and rhythm of cycles, Libras remain trapped. Libras are also known for balance within themselves, through opposing forces comes balance. Not neglecting one for the other. Libras must embrace all truths, selves, and cycles. Their descendant is ruled by Aries, so Libras must learn to balance the side of them that experiences ego death in relationships. Through relationships they meet themselves. The scales are incredibly important to this sign, in Esoteric astrology Libra swings back and forth from realizing the soul, to repeating old ways and patterns as a way to remain safe. Remaining comfortable and safe is another way in which Libra stifles the soul. Look to where Venus is to see where you become complacent, comfortable and where codependent patterns still exist. For example, Venus 7h, attachment to connections. You love who you are with others, and want to hold onto that part of you so tightly, you forget to let go of unhealthy connections. You crave that part of you, who you are with people. Maintain balance!

Gemini moon 🍵☁️- The sign in which Venus feels comfortable in esoteric astrology. The stifling begins when Gemini moons deny their own process of reaching the self. Geminis are incredibly intelligent, they also have an active mind. Which is what stifles the nature of their soul. Overthinking, controlling and analyzing the soul process. It’s not one for the logical mind, Gemini’s need to gather trust in their body. Trust that what path they’re on whether they understand it logically or not, is for their soul. The stifling also takes place when Gemini isn’t understood and they have to translate their soul in connections that are unhealthy, unstable and ignorant of healing. Ruled by Venus in esoteric astrology, Gemini’s are great communicators and are able to give what their friends or partners need, but the stifling begins when they don’t receive that in return. When Gemini rejects the multifaceted self, the parts unloved, stuck and hurt, it creates a disconnect in the self. Usually the sign is represented by duality, two faces. One is the hurt, the other is the evolved. Together, they must become one. What stifles the moon is relying on the mind to create love only. Through the heart, there can be other ways to generate, receive and experience love too. Check where Mercury is to see how you can communicate love to yourself, and open yourself up to higher consciousness. For example, Mercury in the 8h: shadow work, occult studies, implementing your wisdom & knowledge in your spiritual practices, deep meditation. Stay committed to your deepest parts.

🌊 The Water Signs🌊

Cancer moon 🌆✨- In esoteric astrology, the first incarnations happened in the sign of Cancer. The cosmic mother. If you ever felt you were a young soul, it’s possible you were at the beginning stages of your healing when you thought that. That’s because Cancer moon requires the native to travel into and upwards in the self, to realize they are grown, and are growing. Constantly evolving, gathering wisdom. Cancer moons stifle when they stay in one time period, in one consciousness, in one past experience. Replaying the pain of the past, and recreating those scenarios. What also stifles cancer moon is a sense of having no home, no belonging, and creating disconnection and abandonment as a way to feel safe. A way to predict the end, which gives them comfort. When cancers embody their intuition and ability to recognize others moods, energies and tap into the cosmic world, they feel at home and much more connected. Not necessarily biologically, but cosmically they feel at home. They feel like the child of the universe when they tap into the wisdom it offers. Without the dissolution of boundaries, fears and the past, Cancer may feel held at arms length with the Universe and in their community, as they don’t feel secure in themselves. In esoteric astrology, Cancer is ruled by Neptune. The dissolver of boundaries, the feeler, the seer and visionary. If cancer stifles their intuitive exploration in the world and themselves, there wouldn’t be a dissolvent of the ego, and therefore, no feeling of liberation, resolve, or freedom Neptune brings. Look to see where Neptune is and where you are the most intuitive with yourself & others, and how you can learn to integrate those sensitive energies. It’s also related to the solar plexus, build confidence in that area and security. For example cancer 10h will be intuitive in their career path, in establishing a family life, choosing a spouse, and establishing their business. Also could have to do with picking up their father’s intuitive gifts.

Scorpio moon 🗣️🚬- In the process of healing, Scorpio represents the burial. The rotting in the graveyard, and silence of the death of the soul. Scorpio’s process begins in Aries, a fiery, out of control ego death, eventually settling deep in the earth where the ashes reside. In esoteric astrology they are represented by the harmony constellation, which is interesting for a sign of death. The stifling begins with Scorpio cannot find a resolution and acceptance after their metaphorical death. Their lack of inner peace & compassion is what leads to their stifle. What they repress also leads to disconnect, detachment, and separation in oneself. Often, scorpio repeats patterns in the subconscious in relationships, and in their own lives. If there is no shadow work, there is no awareness, therefore the wounds never existed to the Scorpio to be healed. Their emotional memory is strong, if Scorpio recreates the pain of their past, eventually they’ll only look for that same cycle and pattern, because its all that ingrained in them. So its important for Scorpios to allow themselves to discover themselves beyond the scope of pain, destruction and suffering. To transmute those feelings and past energies. Ruled by Mars, Scorpios have the ability to see beyond the surface level and fight for their passions. They also have the ability to continue to stay in unhealthy patterns and relationships, thinking of it as a sense or control. When they retreat is when they realize their greatest control & potential comes from within. Check your mars sign to see where your subconscious wounds need attention, and how you replay certain past events. For example Mars in the 1h: you replay your past traumatic events that victimized you, kept you stuck, and conflicted.

Pisces moon 🌊☁️- Their stifling begins when Pisces neglects their soul process. Pisces is the beginning of a cycle, and the end. Their stifle comes from undisciplined emotional responses to the self. Not having a ritual, a sanctuary and a routine for meeting their emotional and spiritual needs spirals into anxiety, neglect and ego. When Pisces becomes enthralled by materialistic desires and the surface level reality, they neglect the art of their inner world, and the power their inner world can provide and create. Pisces is meant to orient themselves with universal love and compassion, without this, Pisces overstimulates themselves with escapism. Pisces soul centered ruler in Esoteric astrology is Pluto. Leaning into destructive, chaotic and disruptive forces is what allows the native to fall into the ego. Throwing themselves into the void is what causes Pisces to remain unbalanced. What helps them tune inward and create flow and balance, is by finding illumination within those scenarios, truth and power. Beyond the ego. The power of Neptune plays, as now Pisces sees beyond illusion, and now finds truth in their experience. Pisces is ruled by Jupiter in traditional astrology, the exoteric wisdom Pisces can cultivate is limitless. Jupiter is the guidance we need to fall into spirituality as well, so look to Jupiter to see what hobby/what you can pay attention to in your life to begin your spiritual journey. Look to Pluto to see where you can find your souls power (Pluto because it rules the soul in esoteric astrology) by transmuting the past. For example, Pluto 10h can find soul centered power by releasing father wounds, and finding a stable solid ground within oneself.

⭐️ The Earth Signs ⭐️

Taurus moon 🌙🤍- Ruled by Vulcan in esoteric astrology, Taurus moon individuals have a strong and self righteous mind. Powerful and impactful individuals. But what stifles this sign is creating conflict within themselves and others as a way to maintain control, to prove themselves as right in their ego. Self sabotage tendencies run deep, as these individuals may fall into ego traps to maintain control of themselves, if they cannot control external factors. What stifles this sign is also being aware of their desires, as ruled by Venus, and creating conflict in their awareness by falling into the narrative of what they don’t have. Comparison leads to inner neglect. Taurus moon may feel without materialistic desires and needs being met, they are unfulfilled internally which causes the stifling. Attributing their worth to materialistic values only is what creates neglect. It holds them back from channeling their Vulcan nature, which is their willpower, the illumination of what hinders them internally. Without the inner awareness of their worthiness, Taurus may feel anything they touch simply dies or does not nurture. When tapped in to their Vulcan nature, Taurus feels what they touch materializes beautifully, but also on a spiritual level. Their spiritual prosperity is everywhere they go. The native feels their self interests are challenged with their spirituality. Taurus feels stifled when what they want is also out of their reach, but simultaneously create narratives to feed into that helplessness. Look to where Venus is to see what your deepest desires are, and what themes of codependency surround those desires or negative beliefs. For example, Venus 11h may want a group of friends, a beautiful social status, or to be see and recognized widely, but may struggle with feeling like the black sheep from childhood. Eventually, they may reject a social circle as a way to maintain control and to feel comfortable in their narratives.

Capricorn moon ❤️❄️- Baggage is what truly stifles these beings. In esoteric astrology, Capricorn is represented by the mountain, in order to climb a mountain you have to have willpower, strength and stamina. But you also cannot carry a house with you. Capricorns must learn what is essential to take with them in this lifetime, versus what their fearful tendencies want them to indulge in. In esoteric astrology, Capricorn is the sign of conclusion, finality and death. The mountain tops also represents the point in which we cannot ascend anymore, thus we must go down, and continue the cycle again. There must be a descent into pain, suffering, and healing to reach the top once again. The stifle begins when Capricorns find resistance in going down, when in reality it’s another opportunity to heal and get closer to oneself. Capricorns may enjoy being at the top, where it’s comfortable, where they have an advantage of seeing, and knowing, but once it’s time to head down, the fear of the unknown follows them. This can hinder Capricorn moons soul growth, and imprison the soul. The resistance to death, resistance to endings contribute to the imprisonment. As a way to foster security, Capricorns can get attached to material items to feel ‘’at the top,’’ to recreate that mountain top feeling. And when without, they feel left out, abandoned, in repetition of the old. Capricorns must constantly reach point of inner closure, truth, and awareness of their past to welcome to new, hence the suffering, pain, and fear of the unknown. Ruled by Saturn, the native must accept the discipline needed to derive closure from their past, or difficult experiences. Create that sense of safety, security, and open a new door. Saturn is also about spiritual opportunity through spiritual responsibility, so as the native heals consciously, Saturn rewards with spiritual expansion, and beautiful opportunity. Look to where Saturn is to see what and how you can generate closure from your past, and heal from, and what needs your discipline. Saturn can also tell you where life will continually improve. For example, Saturn 4h will experience wounding from the mother and family, early childhood experiences were lonely, traumatic possibly, and expected the native to grow up faster. The more the native heals this, their family life and sense of family will improve. Not necessarily their own biological family, but the native could go on to create their own sense of family and community.

Virgo moon ❤️‍🩹🌲- What stifles these moon signs is doing a disservice to themselves. Not setting appropriate intentions, boundaries, and uprooting themselves before something beautiful can harvest. Neglecting their health is a common sign of doing a disservice to themselves. These moon signs can neglect themselves in order to be of service to others, and experience codependency early in their lifetime. Virgos are also the gateway to consciousness in esoteric astrology as ruled by Mercury. The visionary, the seer, and conscious of the self. Mercury rules communication and when Virgos are not in touch with themselves, they lose awareness, they lose sight of higher consciousness. When faith is blocked, or their sense of universal connection or religious, Virgos feel unseen and stifled. They have no way of accessing their higher consciousness if the path is blocked by internal wounding and external matters. Mercury also extends into the physical form after higher consciousness is made, elevating Virgos health. Without higher awareness, Virgos can feel their health declining, or their energy is congested spiritually. Virgo can feel stifled when they are not present in their body as well, in order to develop strong awareness to the higher consciousness, Virgo needs somatic awareness. They need their body to speak to them. Virgos experience love not only through their mind, but their heart and body. Virgo also represents synthesis of receiving spiritual information, so without the proper internal care, space and time, Virgos can feel they are neglected. Virgos can overthink as well, and that leads to the stifling. Analyzing their spiritual process too much, leads to an excess of worry and takes them out their somatic body experience, leading to a lack of higher consciousness. Look to Mercury to see how you can better connect to your spiritual experiences, and what spiritual messages may be waiting for you. For example, Mercury 6h your health, routine, and body will help you access your spiritual roots. Listen to your body, ground into it. Nurture it. Keep your body healthy, it’ll keep your energy healthy too.

Omg big post! I learned so much by putting this baby together 😂 Thank ya’ll for reading this, please support this blog by any means possible! 💗🤗 as always please let me know your feedback, and thoughts! Like comment and reblog!

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wandasfifthwife · 8 days

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birthdays ✩‧₊˚

— hockey!wanda x fem/afab!reader

all you’ve ever known is a skipped birthday, a missed celebration. your first birthday since you’ve started dating Wanda rolls around, what would happen if she forgot it too like your mother did?

tw: HEAVY TOPICS, discussions of past trauma (physical/verbal abuse, parental neglect/control, manipulation), established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst w/ HAPPY ending, discussions of thoughts spiraling (r wonders if W loves her anymore), R’s coping style is to separate herself, NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: this is the fic that won from this poll (it “won” at whatever it was at when I checked it after my exam)

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

The only time you can remember having your birthday celebrated was at school. It was the closest thing you had to a birthday anyways. The little goody bag your teacher would make and the birthday song sang to you by your classmates. Though your mother never showed up to parent lunch, or gave you presents, or even acknowledged your birthday—you still blindly thought she was a good person then.

If you had done well in school, at practice, and at home—she’d gift you with new ice skating equipment. Something she was going to give to you anyways, but tried to do it as positive reinforcement as a kid. The other positive reinforcement she gave just so you’d get in the ice? A form of alone/bonding time with her. She’d only discuss what was necessary, eyes strayed away from your own.

You were so blind to her manipulation, getting you into the sport only for her to use it as a weapon against you. There were times you enjoyed the sport, but it’s hard not to think of your mother when you enter on the rink since you’ve spent most of your childhood with her on it.

Once she got arrested and you were moved to live with your older brother—he tried to celebrate your birthday. For a few years you wanted to forget about it and you had, you never celebrated it except for your brother’s family leaving notes on your desk when you had stayed with them.

And now today was your birthday.

You had gone to bed with a slight twinge of hope in your heart that a birthday spent with your girlfriend would be different.

It was 7:43AM, in seven minutes Wanda would be reaching to turn her alarm off. You usually don’t wake up this early, used to sleeping in while Wanda left for practice, but today you couldn’t help it. You had been wondering how she’d greet you when she woke up. What a birthday would be like with someone who loved you.

She looked surprised to find you awake after she turned her alarm off, puffy eyes widening just a bit.

“Woah, what’s got you up so early?”

You smiled, “nothing.”

“Hmm,” she pressed a kiss to your forehead before throwing the sheets off of her, “I’m not complaining.”

You felt giddy almost, a childlike joy overtaking you. Would she take you to dinner? You’ve heard that’s what couples do at work. Or would she take you somewhere? Would she give you a gift?

“I have practice until later today, but I should be back tonight—like 1PM?”

“Okay,” you chirped from under the covers, excited to get another kiss from her before she wondered into the bathroom to put her hair back. It only takes her a minute, throwing her jersey on loosely and pulling her bag over her shoulder, her keys jangling as they hang out of her pocket.

“Be back later, love you.”

“Love you.”

It made your heart twinge just a bit at the fact that she got up and left without saying anything. Maybe mornings weren’t the normal time to say happy birthday yet?

You spent time doing work from home, finishing tasks your boss assigned you to do. It made time fly and before you realized it was almost 12PM. You were about to get ready for the day but stopped when you received a text from Wanda, telling you that she won’t be back until later.

That’s fine. She’s probably just picking up something. It felt selfish, all of these thoughts felt self-centered. This day shouldn’t be about you, you shouldn’t expect it, but here you are. So you put off getting ready, wanting to be freshly put together when Wanda came through the door.

1PM turned to 3PM and 3PM turned to 6PM.

You received a few texts from your phone, seeing family and a few work friends wish you a happy birthday. It mattered, but it didn’t satisfy the way your heart was breaking. She would remember, she’s not your mom—she’s above ignoring such a day.

You know she cares, so why in this moment are you beginning to question everything? Heart turning from glass to stone as you recall memories, ones usually sweet, and overthink her words and actions as hatred. Maybe this whole time shes been showing how much she dislikes you but you’ve been blind to it just like how you had been with your mother.

It was dinner time now, and you’ve seen videos on social media and heard on the grape vine that couples go out to a nice dinner on a special event, such as a birthday. This could be a surprise, maybe when she got back she’d be dressed and ready, driving you to your favorite place.

She hasn’t yet called to texted you, giving you the idea that she’s coming home soon like she said she would be. You took the time to get ready, enjoying every minute for once until you were dressed nicely. You found yourself on her couch, waiting while scrolling on your phone.

You checked back and the time read seven.

After watching TV, the time read eight.

Until nine, until ten, until your phone lit up the room with her contact information. You let it go to voicemail, not wanting to let her know about how you’re crying in front of the bathroom mirror.

It’s ugly, dry heaving cries filling the bathroom. Each one making your throat and head hurt just that much more. Your heart ached. You felt naive, stupid to believe someone would genuinely love you. Turns out on your birthday she would leave you alone.

You decide to sleep, guessing Wanda wouldn’t be back until way later at this point. You had hoped to avoid her but by stepping out of the bathroom you walked right into.

“Oh!—oh.”

You know she can see the glimmer on your cheeks, how your eyes are all puffy and bloodshot. You felt choked seeing her. She’s in a different outfit, hockey back still slung behind her like you’ve become familiar with.

“What’s wrong—?”

“Nothing,” you say, brushing past her to quickly grab the pajamas you wore this morning and shutting yourself in the bathroom again. She had apparently left to take a phone call from her dad, thankfully giving you space to calm down, collect yourself, and crawl into bed. Now lying in her bed feels weird; it doesn’t feel like home as much anymore. Fear grew in you at the thought, what if she’s going to kick you out soon? You’ve heard that happens when relationships fall apart, and the pain you felt thinking that sentence over took you.

You tried to stop the upcoming crying session, pressing your hands into your closed eyes or staring at the ceiling. You’ve had heartbreak, just not one with a relationship, it’s be a new kind of pain. Sharing intimacy with someone only for them to use you in the end.

The door creaking, signaled Wanda’s presence. She sighed seeing how you’ve turned away from her, sitting on her side to lean an arm and rest it on your thigh.

“Hey love, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

You ignored her attempts to console you, and in a really really strange way you congratulated yourself—you weren’t able to do this with your mother and you saw how that ended up.

But oh how you wanted to turn around and hug her, hear her heart beat as you lie on her chest, feel her press a kiss to your cheek and tell you everything’s going to be okay. Once you hear her breathing even out you let out a few more tears, already missing Wanda even though she’s laying right behind you.

The next morning Wanda’s shocked for a different reason. You wake up at a normal time, but you’re complete off. She’s decided that maybe you need space, maybe something happened that you’re just keeping to yourself and will tell her later. She’s not just decided, she’s hoping because she can’t stand to see how you’ve been. You’re a shell of it. You don’t kiss her back, you’ve stopped engaging in conversation, and you barely look at her.

It’s now been two days since your birthday and Wanda’s grown increasingly worried. You’ve always climbed in bed, back facing hers for the third night in a row and it’s enough for Wanda to pull up your brother’s contact, raising her phone to her ear after hitting the call button.

“Hey, this sounds very intrusive, but has something personal happened within the family recently?”

“Uhh no—why?”

She explains how you’ve been, how sudden and drastic of a change your mood has been.

“Can you tell me what day you remember her starting to drop?”

“Two days ago.”

“I’m not going to assume you did because I fucking hope this didn’t happen. Two days ago was her birthday Wanda, is there—?”

His voice trails off as the room freezes. That’s why you were up early, full of smiles and joyful expressions. That’s why you’ve become distant, looking uncomfortable any time she expressed her love.

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no—“ she mumbles, tears growing in her eyes, “shit—I forgot. I forgot. I don’t know how, but I did.”

“Shh, hey calm down,” your brother says over the voice, tone stern and light, “this doesn’t take away my frustration with you, but calm down—you’re not going to get anything done with a heart rate of 120. Apologize and make it up to her. You really don’t even have to do much—you can literally just get her a small gift and wished her a happy birthday and she’d be over the moon.”

“No—no, she deserves more than that.”

“She does. The intention of what I just said was to show how low the bar was set. She’s not had a ‘birthday,’ Wanda—so anything you could’ve done yesterday would’ve meant the world to her.”

“It would’ve and I’ve done nothing,” she says and he agrees.

“Yes. But I know your intentions, I know you’ve just forgotten—but she doesn’t. Just make it up for her, be intentional and loving and she’ll come back around.”

So that’s what Wanda set to do. It was late but she still left, driving in her car to the nearest cheapest store to grab decorations. It started with decorations before it moved to gifts before it moved to cake. She set out to create a basic birthday day for you.

It was a sight to wake up to, finding balloons on your ceiling and streamers hanging around her apartment. She was downstairs with your family, your brother smiling and recording you once you’ve begun to walk out from her bedroom.

“What—?”

“Happy birthday.”

You take in everything as best as you can with how your eyes have begun to grow wet, blurring your vision. It looks like the photos you searched on wiki as a kid of what a birthday decorated room looked like. Your brother continues to hold the camera poised on you, emotions overcoming him and his wife. The entire time Wanda’s been standing in the corner, growing nervous when your attention lands on her.

She’s holding her arms out wide when she saw you take a few steps towards her. You’re wrapped up so tight in her hold; your deep cries breaking her heart all the more.

She coos, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“You set all this up for me—when did you have time,” you ask, voice squeaking from how sore your throat has become.

“It is all for you, I stayed up late last night to set this up.”

And her efforts didn’t go to waste. You wonder just how much money she burnt through last night seeing what she had bought. Your brother had an itinerary, moving you around to each event.

You had to stop and cry multiple times—feeling grateful and also a little bit embarrassed about being so emotional over something so minor to most people. The whole time they kept validating your feelings, full of understanding and kind words to help you get along. There was your favorite food, dessert, presents, and your favorite people.

Once your brother’s family had to leave—saying something about having to get Tyler to hockey practice since he has a game coming up soon—Wanda pulled out another gift.

“I thought of you when I saw this,” she said, taking out the necklace to place it around your neck. It had the word, “loved,” on it, diamond encrusted and small.

“Why’d you think of me?”

“The man asked me to choose out a necklace with a saying that made me think of you. I wanted you to have something that reminded you of how loved you are.”

You begin to tear up yet again, laughing dryly as you try to wipe away the tears, “I need to stop crying, I’m going to get a headache.”

“I’ll just take care of you if you do.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you laugh more, but you thank her with a squeeze to her arm.

“I’m serious though. I’m really sorry for not treating you the way you deserved on your birthday. I love you, and I’ve never been this serious about anyone before.”

“I love you too,” you say, kissing her back when she leans to kiss you; feeling like your hearts begun to be placed back together when you feel her wipe away at your tears.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

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novlr · 4 months

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How do you write characters who ignore their feelings

When you write characters who ignore their feelings, you delve into a complex psychological landscape that, if done well, can resonate deeply with readers. These characters are walking contradictions, their emotions simmering just beneath the surface. This tension between their inner experiences and external expressions makes them fascinating and relatable to readers.

Behaviour

Disregard their own emotional well-being

Focus on logic and facts

Appear stoic or unfazed in stressful scenarios

Engage in compulsive behaviours as a distraction

Will take on burdens without complaining

Avoid conversations about their feelings

Can be reliable in a crisis

Immerse themselves in work or hobbies

Seen as cold or insensitive by others

Exhibit control issues, and micromanaging tendencies

Interactions

Difficulty forming deep, emotional connections

Uncomfortable with physical displays of affection

Struggle to empathise with others’ feelings

Change the subject when discussions turn emotional

Appear indifferent or detached in social settings

Perceived as blunt or straightforward in their communication

Offer practical solutions to problems, rather than emotional support

Have a small, close-knit circle of friends, if any

Inadvertently hurt others by dismissing their emotions

Often seen as the ‘rock’ or ‘anchor’ by their peers

Body language

Cross arms or create physical barriers when emotional topics arise

Maintain a steady, controlled posture

Rarely exhibit nervous ticks or fidgeting

Minimal eye contact during emotional conversations

Often have a rigid or stiff walk or stance

Avoid touch or recoil slightly from unexpected contact

Neutral or hard to read facial expressions

Look away or distance themselves from emotional displays

Rarely cry or show signs of emotional distress in public

Likely to control voice pitch and volume meticulously, even when agitated

Attitude

A practical and no-nonsense demeanour

Often skeptical of emotional reasoning or decisions

May seem dismissive or cynical about sentimentality

Value strength, self-sufficiency, and independence

Pride themselves on not ‘giving in’ to emotions

Can be incredibly self-disciplined and focused

View emotional displays as weaknesses or inconveniences

Have a strong drive to maintain composure under pressure

Sometimes accused of lacking passion or enthusiasm

Can come across as disinterested or aloof

Positive story outcomes

Learn to acknowledge and accept their emotions in a healthy way

Build stronger, more genuine relationships through vulnerability

Find themselves more at peace after emotional breakthroughs

Gain respect from others for their growth and emotional maturity

Overcome past traumas that caused them to suppress their feelings

Develop a more balanced approach to problem-solving

Become a role model for others struggling with emotional expression

Facilitate a cathartic moment that resolves a central conflict

Experience personal breakthroughs leading to unexpected joy

Discover hidden strengths through the acceptance of weakness

Negative story outcomes

Relationships may deteriorate because of emotional neglect

They could face a breakdown from accumulated stress

Might cause unintended harm to themselves or others

Risk becoming isolated because of their lack of emotional openness

Can suffer from health issues related to suppressed emotions

Might miss out on life-changing opportunities because of fear of vulnerability

Could be overtaken by their emotions in a critical moment

May lose the trust or respect of peers who crave emotional honesty

Potentially fail to resolve a major conflict because of emotional barriers

Their growth as a character might stagnate, leading to a tragic outcome

Helpful Vocabulary

Aloof

Detached

Dismissive

Stoic

Impassive

Restrained

Unflappable

Resolute

Suppressed

Guarded

Inexpressive

Dispassionate

Self-contained

Unemotional

Nonreactive

Disconnected

Inhibited

Controlled

Reticent

Reserved

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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months

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Hcs for the boys' toxic traits. Preferably arthur, javier, john, and charles, but other boys are welcome too! I'm curious to see what you'd say Dutch's toxic traist are, though they're pretty self explanatory 😭

I just love how you write sm sorreyyyy

Van Der Linde Gang's Toxic traits

(Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, John Marston, Charles Smith, Micah Bell, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sean Macguire, Kieran Duffy, Eagle Flies)

HAHAHA THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE. I tried not to sugarcoat anything.

Arthur Morgan - He definitely has some trouble communicating. Not to say he never will communicate with you but it'll be long in between and after it's been plaguing him for a milenium. As we've seen, this man is capable of having deep, well thought out conversations. He'd also be pretty prideful to some degree. Mostly depends what point in time you start dating, later in game he'd be able to see past his pride. Also, I feel like if you were dating a major point of contention in your relationship would be questioning whether it's time to move on from this life.

Javier Escuella - WAY too jealous. I don't even mean it in a cute way but in a way that would genuinely cause several arguments between you two. "Why were you looking at him that way?" "That sounded like you were flirting with him" "Why do you spend so much time around the other guys?" Would also be around you 24/7. Someone would be incapable of having a conversation with you that doesn't include Javier. You two would also argue about Dutch's leadership skills.

John Marston - Oh my God this man is so indecisive. Doesn't know what he wants ever. In a modern setting you two would be sitting in the car, asking each other back and forth "what do you wanna eat?". And his commitment issues? Good lord. At some points in your relationship it'd probably feel like you guys aren't dating at all. You'd probably have to beg him to put some effort into the relationship to be honest.

Charles Smith - It's so hard to think of ANYTHING this man can do wrong but alas, I must. You probably wouldn't be his top priority at all times. Which isn't to say you should ALWAYS be at the top of his list, but sometimes it can result in your feelings being neglected over a situation that affects you. Only when the day reaches it's end will he consult you over something, which will have you feeling incredibly frustrated.

Micah Bell - This man is a walking red flag so let's not dance around his flaws. Incredibly prideful, will ignore your warnings over something just to get his way. Also probably lies to you A LOT. Can be way too rough with you in many aspects. Also this man embodies the word sleezy. Yuck.

Dutch Van Der Linde - Do I even need to say. So fucking stubborn. He also probably thinks he's intelectually superior to you. If you bring up a concern to him he'll probably use as many flowery and big words as possible to make himself appear smarter during the discussion than he actually is. And if you advise him to do anything he'll probably just ignore you, saying you don't know what you're talking about. All in all, thinks he's better than you. Also you're probably a trophy wife since Dutch views women as accessories to his success, if you can even call it success.

Sean Macguire - He doesn't take anything seriously. If you're trying to have a genuine discussion with him he'll play it down and make it seem less important or severe than it actually is. Don't even bother trying to emphasize how serious you are because he won't take that seriously either. It's only until he feels the consequences of his actions will he listen to you, which results in a frustrating cycle.

Kieran Duffy - Also very indecisive but in the way where he can't speak up for himself because he doesn't think it's important. Has such low self esteem, he also probably thinks his emotions are less important which results in a lot of miscommunication on his behalf. Sorta just let's you take the lead all the way, always let's you have your way, with no valuable input of his own. You have to shake his shoulders and beg for him to actually speak his mind.

Eagle Flies - He's probably so childish. Like, mommy issues CEO over here. Will probably seek for you to fulfill that role in his life. Has almost no control over his emotions and has trouble identifying them, and when he does indentify them, has absolutely no idea what to do with them in terms of expression. He will make various efforts to communicate with you but will struggle immensely. Being with him will probably be like teaching a man how to experience emotions in a healthy way. I could write an entire post dedicated to what I think his toxic traits are

More eagle flies ones

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harrysonlylover · 8 months

Text

Hidden Actions (Mechanic Harry Part 5)

Summary: The magic from Prince Charming’s kiss did not last long. Will the past follow up with Y/n and Harry?

Wc: 8.5k

Warnings: Discussion about feelings, insecurities, self criticism, mentions of alcohol consumption , child neglect,social anxiety and struggling with fitting in.

A/n: Thank you for being so patient, i adore every single one of you. I hope this part pleases you ( I suggest that you revisit part 4 prior to reading this)

Mechanic H Masterlist

The mystery of our actions remains to be the most taunting dilemma that we must face every now and then. For some, it’s everyday while others barely encounter it once in their lives.

They are the lucky ones, immune against the torture of their brain with no time spared to rethink what they have done or even question its validity. Psychology can explain hundreds of actions whether the motive be fear, irrationality, bravery, stupidity, anxiety…

Though it is a great science, it can only go as far as objective feelings that no one bats an eye when spoken of. Psychology steps away when love interferes.

It is no secret that love is nothing but a chemical reaction in the human brain, merely another feeling that blinds us, but centuries of poems and prose, martyrs in the name of love, and letters scattered around oceans in glass bottles tend to disagree.

Love is what makes us act in hideous or gentle ways. Love is the main source, and everything else follows. The idiocy, irrationality, worry, hurt, happiness, peace of mind, calmness. Perhaps it is safe to say that Psychology’s enemy is love.

It is so silly to think that everything we dwell on or makes us giddy is due to a chemical reaction. Even the brain itself can barely function despite being responsible when the heart steps in.

Do we ever know or realize what we are doing?

Harry would like to believe that he does or so he’s convinced himself for a long time.

“Why don’t you visit us anymore?”

“Harry pick up the phone.”

“Don’t be like every other man and only speak to women for fucking”

“Why do you get so angry for nothing?”

Random questions or thoughts that have been spewed at him by strangers and even close ones. He’d like to think that they enter one ear and leave the other but with time, they resided inside of him and shaped themselves in the form of self-hatred.

He goes on with his life, never questioning anything until his brain gets tired and scolds him as his heart takes control. For the first time in human psychology, the heart leads the brain.

“Why let your lips part from hers and agonize her this way?”

The pondering kept him up at night, tossing and turning, not allowing any form of herbs to lull him to sleep. In his daily routine, when he’s fixing cars, going for a run, and cooking. Not even the loud sound of his Vinyls overpowered the sound of his thoughts.

But Harry has learned how to tame his feelings, how to shut unwanted emotions down in the abyss of his brain. He will continue to do so because after all we are only humans and there is no such thing as love.

Love is another card we pick only to lose all the others and pay the price.

The feeling of being unwanted has chased you your entire life like a shadow with a tight grip on your back. The laughter of other girls at you when you asked if you could hang out with them, the mocking of boys when you thought one of them liked you, or the teachers at school that said you were a lost hope.

A feeling that became a part of you, with nowhere to go as it continues to torture you whenever it likes. You’re not even sure what being loved feels like, there are days when the kind smile or compliment of a stranger creates sparkles in your heart and others where their rudeness or stares make you feel like an 8-year-old girl again whose friends stop talking when she arrives.

Time doesn’t heal, it molds the feelings and brings them out in different ways when you are unguarded and expect them the least. You’ve always wondered if immortal beings exist, not for the fun of it but to know if they have to live with old wounds for the end of time.

The only real friends you ever had were Mia and Lee, they took you under their wing in college and never parted from you ever since. They always sensed the apprehension in your attitude and knew how careful you were with friendships but managed to reassure you in their own way.

You haven’t seen them since you moved here but you call them from time to time and update them on your life. It is not the loneliness that you hate, it is the torturous thoughts you have at night or even in broad daylight of being unwanted.

To love dearly and be loved back is something you never got to delight in and it’s okay, maybe you were sent on Earth to give love but never receive it.

You knew from a young age that fairytales in books were only for daydreamers, Prince Charming may never come. In fact, Prince Charming in real life lies to you, plays games, pretends to like you, or doesn’t care to show interest if you are not up to his standards.

The only man you ever found so close to Prince Charming was Harry.

He had an aura about him that made him a mysterious prince, the one mothers warn their daughters about, but when you look closely, you’d realize that he is nothing but another prince simple and tender but in his own world.

It’s been merely over a week since he drove you to your job interview, the breeze from the road trip still lingers, as so does his hand on your waist and lips on yours. You try to remember how it felt, your surroundings at the time, the cherry and cigarettes taste, his curls tickling your face, and his hunger.

The sparkles he lit inside your body felt like fireworks on New Year’s, a ray of warm sunshine in winter, picking random chocolate only to find out that it’s your favorite, fallen petals on your hair as you walk beneath a blossoming tree and street cats rubbing on your ankle.

It was otherworldly and hiding your blush was useless, you didn’t even feel like hiding it. You wanted him to know. “Your kiss did this to me and I don’t want to stop smiling. Can we kiss again?”

Perhaps you are trying to recall the moment to avoid thinking of what followed. It was a joy to go to bed that night, seeing how much your life had changed in a few months, from getting a new remote job to having Harry kiss you.

But it all evaporated in the upcoming week.

You clocked into Harry’s garage earlier than usual with a plate of pancakes and strawberry jam in your hand. You couldn’t roll your lips without thinking about his own, they fit so perfectly like a puzzle piece you thought you’d never find.

In My Life by The Beatles filled Harry’s space with a good vibe as he was already working on Meena. You stood frozen in front of his shop, unsure of your next action like a young schoolgirl. The pancake dish was warm and uncomfortable in your hand, It was probably for the best to just go in as always but you’re not sure how you developed the giddiness feeling so fast.

Harry seemed to be stuck in his own world, you wondered what he thought of, whether it be about what to cook for lunch or what the best movie in Hollywood is. There are some things that he revealed by himself, yet you feel like you barely know him.

You hated it when the other person had you memorized like the back of their palm while you needed to pull out the information from them discreetly. It didn’t make you feel good, in the bigger picture it is nothing but a preference to be closed off from the other person. But in your own thoughts, that meant you were easy to decode and a simple dumb girl.

No one could barge in on someone else and ask them to talk about themselves, it is your own fault that you’re a bit chatty as well. Most of the time you feel like you are deceiving yourself, why would you consider yourself to be shy yet talk someone’s ear off when they show you the faintest hint of kindness?

You don’t realize what you are doing until the other person sighs or groans, there were times when you muttered a low ‘sorry’ under your breath and continued your day normally ignoring the clutch at your heart but not the voices that tell you you’re annoying.

What scares you about Harry is that he never did any of that, and although it should be something comforting, it sometimes keeps you up at night. What if he is secretly annoyed and doesn’t want to say anything? And what if he isn’t bothered at all? The latter thought scares you the most.

You didn’t realize how long you’ve been standing outside until the song on the Vinyl changed to ‘Here Comes The Sun’. You took a brave step forward and approached the table you always sit on. The strong smell of oil and metal filled your nostrils unlike the usual where hydrangeas would welcome you.

Harry still didn’t notice your arrival which made you uneasy as he would know when you are near miles away. He was too deep in his own train of thoughts, leaning over Meena and even though you couldn’t see his face but you know a pout is present on his lips.

You decided to clear your throat and mutter a low ‘Good Morning’. He didn’t turn his head immediately and it felt awkward to repeat it so you retaliated to your designated seat and removed the foil paper off the dish, you placed four pancakes in a new one and added a generous amount of strawberry jam over it with chopped bananas. It was the only way of saying thank you to him for driving you earlier last week.

You slowly approached him, making sure to not scare him off while working with dangerous materials, so you stood in front of him with a broad smile lowering the pancake dish to his level.

“I heard your Good Morning the first time” He growled in a snarky tone making you take a step backward and clutch onto the glass dish.

His attitude was something you’d never witnessed before and definitely not a thing anyone would do after a kiss. But you couldn’t possibly be so selfish as to dismiss the possibility of Harry having a bad day. For all you know, he may be stressed over personal things and a silly kiss isn’t an excuse for him to put on a smile for you. When our negative emotions get in the way, we don’t owe anyone an explanation and you can’t count the number of times you put on a brave face but with Harry, you assumed he wouldn’t do that.

To lie and pretend that his words did not feel like a knife going through your heart would do nothing good for both parties, he obviously wanted to be left alone so you wrapped up the food again and moved it aside where he could see it in case he got hungry.

The next few hours were weird. It was even more awkward than when you first began working for Harry. There were only a few appointments to schedule and not much to do. He didn’t allow you to clean up or organize anything, muttering things about messiness under his breath. You sat at your bar stool with your hands in your lap as you observed his cranky attitude and dismissive demeanor.

You hated it when someone was mad around you but especially when you were starting to get close with this someone. From the logical side, it is never your fault 90% of the time, and it probably isn’t in this case. But the anger of a person makes you feel small and guilty as if you were the reason for their fury.

Harry’s attitude was unexpected but again you couldn’t exactly think that way because he owes you nothing. The hours went by unbelievably slow, Recently you’ve ditched the company of books when you’re working knowing that Harry has become a better replacement but at least books don’t get mad.

You made a mental note to always keep any kind of book in your bag from now on ,as you readied your bike to leave with an attempt to ignore your grandfather’s car lying neglected behind the garage. You informed Harry that you were leaving to which he didn’t move a muscle before you glanced at the long-forgotten pancake dish, and hopped on your bike away from his store.

Harry’s jaw twitched as he clenched onto the nearest object he could find in front of him, making it graze the palm of his hand. He wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall and he was not sure if allowing himself to cry was the right thing to do. He caught a glass bottle near him and threw it across the concrete as he panted and tugged at his hair.

Why do we act the way we do?

‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ sat neglected on your bedside table, you can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel like reading. Now that you thought about it, you never encountered a reading slump, books were your safe place.

As you stared at the book cover, you wondered as to why you were feeling this way. Books were supposed to save you from whatever was going on in your life, they stretched out a helping hand and pulled you out of your pool of thoughts.

You can’t even grasp the book! You pinched the bridge of your nose, took a deep breath, and lied down on your back as you stared at the ceiling.

You didn’t want it to come down to this; to allow your feelings to win. You closed your eyes and recalled Harry’s actions earlier today, he was an enigma that fooled you by allowing you to believe that you could decode him.

He likes his solitude, that’s for sure. In the movies, the evil characters do not come in contact with anyone, they keep their distance and sometimes cause harm to others.

Harry was just awkward around others, he despised socializing, and given his history with the town when he first moved in, you can’t blame him. He wasn’t gentle towards you on many occasions including when you first met. He’s always grumpy and relaxes when music is on, he has certain mechanisms that he follows to avoid being angry around you, but he hasn’t been this disrespectful directly ever since you asked him to repair his car, it felt like ages ago considering how much your relationship with him has developed.

Now you’re back to Zero.

Even if he changed his attitude later on, it would feel awkward to bring up the kiss. Very awkward.

Raising your expectations is something that you keep repeating when you know damn well that you’ll end up being disappointed. You genuinely couldn’t help it when it came to Harry.

He wronged you— yes. But what about the other times?

Sticking with you during the race, bringing you to his house when he’s secretive, introducing you to his pet, cooking for you multiple times, driving you to your job interview, braiding your hair, offering you strawberries and dismissing your insecurities.

All of these were acts of kindness that assured you how soft he was deep down, he wasn’t a mean person, but he tends to be very complicated.

If that was just the case, you could back down immediately and force yourself to forget him, after all you got hired and you no longer have to tolerate working at his garage. What’s better than avoiding someone physically if you’re trying to forget them?

But he kissed you, and he got jealous when Niall flirted with you.

He stares for too long at your physique, leaves hair ties around the garage for your hair, extra strawberries in the refrigerator, suggests new music and you could’ve sworn you saw Pride & Prejudice laying around.

That damned kiss. His lips were almost stuck to yours like glue, you could feel his grin and smile during the kiss even now that you’re miles away. His face and labored breaths exposed his rough guard. He was waiting for it as much as you were.

So—Why?

You sighed heavily and covered your face with your hands despite being alone in your bedroom. The window was open and the evening breeze welcomed itself in followed by the sound of crickets.

You hate that you’re allowing this to get to you. It was perhaps a bad day for him yet you’re psychoanalyzing him like it’s your job. You have to admit that as a social worker, you never met anyone like him.

Despite everything, you’re getting sick of having to come up with excuses for him in your head or explanations for his attitude. You tried to put yourself in his position only to get more furious when you remember that you barely know him while he is aware of every little detail.

He even knows about your anxiety and tendency to overthink yet he still acts—

Here goes your train of thoughts again.

You were used to letting people to walk all over you, but none of them acted friendly after.

If you allow this to continue, then not only will you lose sleep but also your peace of mind which you craved ever since you arrived here. Everything has been a complete whirlwind, so as you shut your eyes to the feeling of the night breeze caressing your skin, you finally figure out how to deal with a complicated Prince Charming.

The next morning, something changed in the air.

You felt more care free as you went on with your morning routine. You even woke up earlier than usual thanks to the kisses from the sun that sneaked through the window.

There was a certain calmness that wrapped your body in an embrace and clung to it tightly. You hoped it would last forever.

You devoured a yummy Omelette and biked to the Library seeing as you have 45 minutes to spare before heading to the garage.

Ah yes, the garage.

This type of communication with you and Harry was simply not going to work, you knew what the safer choice was and it’s time to put yourself first for once in your life.

The library was empty as usual with only Kitty sitting in her chair. You returned ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ and went through many shelves until your eyes landed on ‘The Great Gatsby’.

You’ve read it before which is why you should grab it, perhaps it will terminate this stupid reading slump of yours.

Kitty’s eyes brightened as soon as you walked towards her. What a woman.

“Oh dear I didn’t expect you to be back so soon! Did you not enjoy Oscar Wilde’s work?” She questioned you with a curious glance.

“It’s not that… I just couldn’t bear to read it. It’s a weird feeling so I think this could help.” You pointed to ‘The Great Gatsby’ , tipping Kitty a light smile before handing it in to have it registered.

“It is indeed a bother darling. Don’t worry it’ll fly by and you won’t feel it.” She assured you while checking in your new book.

Despite feeling good, you weren’t up for any conversation even with Kitty so you glanced around the place to pass time.

Your eyes landed on a very familiar item around Kitty’s neck. You inched your face closer to make sure that you’re not mistaken.

“That’s a nice necklace.” You pointed out as you stared at the same necklace Uncle George gave to Harry for fixing. The same one you admired with him as you read the engraving on the back.

“Forever more our love will reign, even when the stars don’t align”

“Thank you! My husband gave it to me for our 35th Anniversary. Look it even has words engraved on the back.” You thought it was a simple and cute coincidence right until she flipped the back of the necklace showing the same words you cooed over.

Her husband?

“I didn’t know you were married.” You spoke calmly ignoring the weird feeling in your chest.

“You know me… I’m not a chatty person. But if you wish to meet him just pass by his shop! His name is George.”

The pieces began clicking inside your head. Uncle George was buying flowers for Kitty, he asked Harry to fix the necklace for her which explains why he’s close to the both of them.

It was normal information yet it sparked a foreign feeling in your chest. You always saw Kitty as an older version of you, but to find out that George is her husband, the same man Harry looks up to…

“Why a mini clock though?” You cleared your throat not paying attention to your panicked facial expression.

“Me and George went through a lot before we let down our guard… we were young and stubborn, so that meant lots of wasted time. Miscommunication is very tricky Y/n. Beware of it.” She spoke with both love and pain mirroring in her eyes. You stared back at her with a blank expression feeling shivers go through your body.

“Sorry I need to go.” You grabbed the book and walked away in hurried steps not paying attention to the warm knowing smile she shot at you.

You didn’t care much about being lucky or attracting good vibes, but whatever feeling you were blessed with in the morning was gone and you’d do anything to earn it back.

You could’ve avoided asking her all these questions, maybe pour your attention somewhere else but as of late it seemed like fate was playing games with you.

It was just normal information right? So what if they’re married!

‘Cemetery Gates’ by The Smiths pierced your ears as you stepped into the garage. You didn’t stay silent on purpose, the Kitty and George situation just took a huge portion of your interest.

Harry was cleaning some of his tools when you walked in, his back was turned to you but he knew.

He has the sound of of your bike memorized, not to mention the strong odor of Strawberries that enriched the air.

You didn’t say Good Morning.

He was a proper asshole yesterday and he isn’t surprised one bit that you chose to ignore him. He deserved it, besides it’s better this way.

The kiss was something irrational on his part, yet it felt so right. He needed to taste your lips or he would’ve become a mad man.

But now that he got a glimpse of what it feels like to have your lips on his—

You still didn’t utter a word but he won’t push you. He hates that it has to come down to this but it’s for the better.

You are too pure for him.

He sets all the tools back in their place, and takes off his rings to continue his work. His curiosity got the best of him as he raised his eye level to get just a small glance—

Your yellow sundress was right above your knee, hugging your body perfectly. Your hair cascaded down to your waist with two small braids secured with a flower hair clip. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the braids.

You were positioned on the chair you always sit in, but something was off about you.

You were staring straight ahead with your hand under your chin. Not checking appointments, nor reading. Your eyes didn’t catch his despite his shameless staring.

He was well aware of what kissing you meant, the hope it’d give you, and the emotions it’d show.

Even his attitude yesterday was unaccounted for, instead of expressing his anger toward himself, you took the blame. He’s allowed you to do that several times and he simply can’t let that happen again.

He never felt this nervous around someone before, not even when you laughed and took his worries away.

Your silence scared him.

The idea of confronting you made his body weak, he never learned how to do that properly hence why he’s a lonely bird.

Snowy didn’t require much talking, the little bun is simple to live with but he definitely had to deal with Harry’s rants.

Communication was not his best trait.

Growing up didn’t include happy memories for Harry. He had to provide for his sister and himself by working random jobs. He can’t even remember the amount of times he got himself in trouble or messed with the wrong people, yet most of the time they’d let him go. He was just a boy, barely fifteen.

His father was an alcoholic who didn’t play the role of a parent correctly. If he wasn’t passed out on the couch then he’d be out getting drunk at a cheap bar. It wasn’t until he and his sister were left without food for two days that he knew he had to step up.

He was a very anxious kid, he even flinched from the most delicate sounds, he was an easy target for bullies at school. His innocence was stolen away before it even developed.

When it came down to his baby sister, nothing else mattered. He didn’t mind being hungry or wearing dirty clothes but his chest ached when he witnessed other girls making fun of his sister.

Harry doesn’t understand the decisions he makes, but the only one he has an explanation for is searching for jobs at a young age. He placed all of his anxiety and troubles with stuttering aside to see his younger sister smile.

After that, he didn’t have time for thinking about his choices, he always did what was best for his sister and his desire to avoid emotionally charged situations.

He never realized that he let down his guard with you until he caught himself smiling around you. He would be cooking food and it would make him wonder if you liked the dish or not.

Feeding Snow Bun or plucking the strawberries from his garden never failed to remind him of you. Everything did, even if it wasn’t related. You’re his sweet shortcake that laughs like there’s no tomorrow, furrows her eyebrows when reading books and asks the silliest questions about car repair.

You will forever deserve someone as pure as you. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to say that. The only person he confided his feelings on was Uncle George, Harry had a very soft spot for that man who opened up and told him that he sees his younger self in him.

Harry’s aware that Uncle George disapproves of his treatment to you, but only because it was a mistake he once made. Harry never failed to listen to his advice intently but he simply can’t seem to reach this bliss that he always hears about.

The more his attitude worsens, the more he feels you pulling away from him.

He’s losing you, and that will be in your favor.

He felt unexpected joy upon your success in getting hired. He never doubted your talent nor abilities. He wanted you away from that stupid institute since day one but he didn’t lie about needing a helping hand.

He scared customers away with his manners and lack of coherent communication but you? You pulled them in.

He’s pretty sure that you didn’t notice but they were coming in like bees. Your voice was soothing when you spoke on the phone, asking them to describe their issue word by word before giving them a date and telling them to have a nice day.

His appointments used to clash together despite his affinity for being organized which caused a fuss for him, but everything is better now that you’re around. The scheduling notebook was filled with adorable drawings that he admires every morning.

He got too caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice how the song changed to ‘In The Woods Somewhere’ by Hozier. He was speechless upon seeing you in the same position after what seemed like ten minutes of being a hostage to his thoughts.

Should he approach you? Maybe ask if you’re okay? Then he remembered what he did yesterday and took a few steps backward.

He opened the hood of the car that’s waiting for him and dived right in as an attempt to silence his thoughts and forget about the sight of a frustrated shortcake.

It appears like you lost your ability to communicate as well.

It’s been over an hour since you arrived and all you did was stare at the empty road ahead, you could feel Harry working next to you but you didn’t spare him a glance.

What went down with Kitty was eating you up. You kept telling yourself that it was a normal coincidence so why do you feel nauseous? Why does it feel like your whole world is upside down? That there’s something you should do…

Everything that occurred around you was a blur. You didn’t feel in touch with reality until later in the afternoon when a customer stopped by. The words that came out of their mouth felt incoherent as you stared back at them with a blank expression. Harry took over the situation immediately without any questions.

You were aware of the presence of a book in your bag yet all you could do was sit in your chair and think. Harry’s prying eyes did not go unnoticed by you.

“I scheduled that man’s appointment.” He muttered with his back turned to you.

“Okay.” It was all you had to say before hopping on your bike and leaving with a tense Harry standing in his garage.

It didn’t take long for you to get caught up with other issues.

Your new boss sent an email with your job offer and contract for you to keep. When you laid your eyes upon the mail, your brain instantly thought of Harry and his soft lips. There is no possibility for you to ever forget that moment.

You still felt a bit distraught and shaken when it came to Kitty and George, it made you feel unsettled. Whenever you thought about it, it’d be a few minutes before a green eyed man crawled into your thoughts.

You’re still confused as to why the new information from Kitty bothered you but you’re more startled from your feelings toward Harry. Usually, you recall every word said between you and the other person who harmed you. Maybe even replay the scene in your mind for years to come, or feel its maim coming back in the form of a new person which happened many times with Harry.

You could dream of him, work with him, make eye contact or allow him to dominate your mind but you can’t feel anything.

It’s a scary situation.

You’re not angry, upset, or disappointed even though you should be. You’re numb when it came to him, and you’re not sure how or why.

Your crush on Harry started to form when you first met him, he’s an angel really. Many would disagree and correct you by saying “an angel with devilish intentions” but you know damn well that it is not true.

A huge debate is happening inside your brain every day. Harry is sweet, generous, pretty and kind but he’s also non expressive, cold, and tough.

He’s allowed to have bad traits right?

He is aware of your perceptions, yet he acts out.

He knows about your anxiety, yet he doesn’t explain his attitude.

He listens to all your rants, yet he doesn’t understand that he could be the reason behind them.

You still come down to the garage every day and thankfully avoid these thoughts while “working”. It is in the evening when they strike with sharpness, or simply when your fingers touch your lips and hair strands.

Sooner or later, you’ll need to quit working with him. You already started your new remote job and it’s taking up your time since you spend your mornings and mid afternoons at the garage. Most of the days, you stay up till midnight or after to keep up with the work you should be doing in the mornings.

But you’re being patient for the sake of readying yourself to tell him and face him. So you zip your mouth shut, and ignore the sting in your eyes from the lack of sleep as you await the right moment.

After all, you’re used to cutting small pieces of yourself for the comfort of others, and it is said that midnights welcome distraught thoughts…

“Hello Av.”

Harry’s voice echoed through the living room as he spoke into his phone.

He’s not a talkative person, nor the type to pick up his phone and spend hours chatting with someone, but in times of distress he knows who to call, and even then he barely speaks.

“Glad to know my brother is alive.” Her sarcasm had a painful undertone to it. He’s aware of how distant he’s become but he swears on the heavens that he can’t help it.

“Hm how are you?” Of course she’s well because he would never allow anything else.

“You know I’m the one who should be asking that.” Ava liked to lecture him, he’s the older brother but she’s wiser than him.

When it comes to emotions, she’s an open book. He is glad that she got this trait when he couldn’t. His whole purpose of protecting her years ago didn’t just revolve around the physical aspect. He believes that her emotional maturity and openness come as a reward for everything he sacrificed. His sister is the only good karma he ever experienced, but after you, he’s not so sure.

“I fucked up Av.” He breathed out after staying silent for a few minutes. She was used to his silence whether comfortable or not.

Despite his inability to open up, she had everything about him memorised. She was a bit shocked when he said that, partly because she instinctively knew that it’s about a partner and because he never mentioned meeting someone.

“How so?”

“I— It’s— I’m f—u—cking up things with a pu—re girl.” The shaking in his voice made her swallow down her throat, his stuttering alarmed her as he didn’t suffer from it since they were kids.

“Breathe H.” She’s not near him to calm him down and it breaks her heart because he’d travel across seas for her. She hoped that Snowy was near, he grounded Harry.

Harry rested his head against the wall, closed his eyes, breathed in and out for a few moments to muster up the courage he needed.

“I don’t know how to be normal Av. It’s so hard to keep driving people away.” His stuttering ceased but it didn’t erase the fact that he was hurting.

“There’s no such thing as normal.” She tried to help as much as she could, but she knew absolutely nothing about you. Not even your name.

“She never saw my birthmark.”

The silence on her part was loud.

“Oh.”

Harry was around twelve when a carnival stayed in their hometown for three months. Every night he waited for his father to pass out, before joining his hand with Ava’s and sneaking out to the carnival. Normally, kids would be drawn to rollercoasters, ponies, plushies and candies but Ava adored the area for psychedelics.

Harry caved at some point and walked around with her till they reached a fortune teller table. He doesn’t remember what she chatted with Ava about, but even though he did not speak to her directly, she did.

“Young man, Your soulmate will not notice your birth mark.” It had nothing to do with what she was discussing with his sister, and her smile was unsettling. At twelve, Harry had other things to worry about and his soulmate was not one of them.

Ava held on to that vision and teased him along the road. Surprisingly, his birth mark is the first thing everyone noticed about him, except you.

He’s not sure why he felt like he had to mention it, but it might explain more than talking about his idiocy.

“You can’t be true to her when you’re not true to yourself. Liking someone is complicated H. You are worth more than you know, you’re way too harsh on yourself. Did you try and ask her about how she feels?” She was good at giving advice. What kind of sister would she be if she didn’t help her brother out even when she’s clueless about his dilemma?

All she could hear was his heavy breathing as she awaited his answer.

“Snow Bun raided the fridge this morning…” He continued to talk about other mundane things that are irrelevant against his real issues. Whenever he did that, it was a silent cue for them to stop talking.

Harry deserved the world in her opinion, but he had already given it to her out selflessness and she’s sure he would do the same to you, only if he talked a bit more.

The following week was the most torturous period in Harry’s life, or so he thought.

He believed that his sister transmitted him some sort of invisible power he could use to behave normally around you.

But in reality, his words became jumbled whenever you were near. He had a tiny glimmer of hope that you would return to being yourself again.

He didn’t really think about what to do in case you continued with your abnormal behaviour, which you did.

Your Good Mornings never resumed and he found himself aching to witness the movement of your lips and hear the echo of your sweet voice.

He was not accustomed to being treated this way, he was now on the receiving end of the attitude he gave to other people.

You had every right to ignore him, but it pained him more than he thought it would.

He tried to play music that you might like and at some point he switched to a big cassette player just so he could put Swan Lake on (he didn’t find it on a Vinyl).

When the instrument caught your ear, you tilted your head slowly over your shoulder and were met with Harry whose back was turned to you but was trying to move his head to the side to catch your reaction.

There was nothing but uncomfortable silence between the two of you. As for appointments and schedules, he didn’t have to talk to you for that, he simply took a look at the journal.

He almost caved in and asked instead of checking the daily schedule, which would’ve made him look desperate but when he approached the table you sit at, you shifted your body towards the wall and placed your eyes on the book you pretended to read.

Your response confirmed nothing but the thoughts inside his head.

He will always drive people away.

If only both of you knew what was happening inside the other’s mind.

You were struggling as much as he was. You can’t figure out how to approach him and tell him that you want to leave.

His caution made you feel apprehensive, it was as if he always wanted to do or say something before backing off to a corner.

You shut down all sorts of communication with him because you didn’t want to hear his words of rejection coming straight out of his mouth.

“Sorry i mislead you…”

“I did it in the heat of the moment…”

“Look you’re a nice girl but…”

You imagined how it would go down and what he would say. You never understood how people can kiss each other and go back to living normally without addressing anything.

But it wasn’t just about the kiss. There were other moments that made you feel warm on the inside, and they were sometimes as tiny as eye contact followed by a wink.

You couldn’t bear having him pity you ,so you resorted to mechanisms that made sure you wouldn’t need direct communication with him.

You had breakfast before clocking in and brought home cooked food every single day. You missed having him cook you terribly but not on the account of being degraded.

Your hair was styled neatly to avoid fallen hair strands because as much as you adored the feeling of his knuckles brushing against your skin and his fingers going through your hair, you needed to stay away.

By the time Thursday rolled around Harry could not handle the situation any longer.

He didn’t mind if you shouted in his face, cried, blamed him or uttered the most awful words. He just wanted to see you in your element, as delicate as his hydrangeas adding sunshine to his life. But as usual, he was met with silence and casual work related sentences.

He was filled with an awful emotion that settled in his stomach, and despite his past experiences and ability to move on quickly from emotionally charged situations, he felt like throwing up every time he recalled the interactions with you.

In the evening, he made himself a cup of chamomile tea and rested on his yellow sofa with Snowy snug in his lap. He was encouraging himself to finish Pride & Prejudice so he could tell you about it.

Maybe then, you would respond and not give him a cold shoulder despite him deserving it, perhaps he would be graced with your smile that he was forbidden from or the glimmer in your eyes that he ached to see.

Maybe he wouldn’t lose you after all.

You found a way to resign from working with Harry.

It isn’t very appropriate, but it will do the trick. There’s nothing better than escaping unwanted situations, let alone an awkward one where you can’t handle looking into the other person’s eyes that make you so weak.

Harry does not work on Fridays, at least not directly. He cleans up the garage, his tools and goes over maintenance stuff but he doesn’t fix any cars. He spends around 2-3 hours before heading back to his house.

Although it wasn’t a requirement , you used to spend Fridays with him at the garage, he never objected but his eyes spoke words he never let out and as much as you hated concluding his feelings, you couldn’t say that he disliked your company.

Even if you changed the Vinyl without asking so you could dance, even if you played around with his organized tools and even if you crept into his life and turned it upside down that he could no longer breathe properly when you’re not around.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you looked down to the piece of paper that had your stomach in knots. As silly as it sounded, you wrote him a letter. You could’ve texted, called or even said it to his face but you started off the wrong foot and even though it slowly got better later on, your current situation was charged with weird energy that you didn’t feel like questioning.

Next to you over six crumpled papers lay, resembling your attempt at displaying unresolved emotions. Words could only convey so little.

Your most recent letter is being judged with your hesitant eyes that rake over every word hoping they would somehow move and carry themselves to Harry to accompany him till he’s right in front of you.

‘Harry, I know this may appear childish and inappropriate but if I were able to stomach another interaction I’d say it to your face. I can no longer work with you at the garage. It is a simple statement but it costed me my peace of mind. I always thought of you as an enigma, but I never imagined you would be this complicated. When we first met I couldn’t divert my eyes from you, you’re a very pretty man with an even prettier heart but you waste so much time on looking for the gaps. It is no secret that I like you very much, there is around six letters crumpled next to this one and there will be even more if I tried to describe how kissing you felt like. You helped me more than you could ever imagine, and thanks to you I am capable of resigning and working in a respectable company. I can provide you with reasons that are legitimate and pass them as excuses but I will say this: I can no longer be around you and pretend that it doesn’t hurt, that I don’t like you badly, or that I don’t dream of your lips on mine. I would never say this to your face but this is my chance. Harry, you know how shy I am and that I tend to be a people pleaser but at the end of the day I am a human as well. I don’t have to mention all your sentiments, smiles, or warm touches for you to realise how we led each other on but know that I can no longer bear it. I wish you all the best in your life and I hope you find someone who understands you for who you are. Please take it upon yourself to keep my Grandad’s car as a memoire from me and take care of my beloved friend Snowy.

-Y/n.

After ten more minutes of intense gazing, you folded the letter and headed to H’s garage on your rented bike that you slowly adored so much it made you wonder how you will part from it once you buy a new car.

Obviously you wouldn’t go if you knew Harry would be there, he takes his sweet time in checking on the garage during Fridays, which is why you sneaked to the front of the shop so early in the morning.

The letter (wrapped with a white bow) was placed on poor Meena who was yet to be fixed. Harry never gave you a copy of the keys to the shop because he never asked of you to open up especially since he does it so early.

You walked for a decent distance to make sure that the letter can be seen. It would be embarrassing if he didn’t notice it.

You don’t want to think about embarrassment, unless you wish to come back and snatch the letter so you walk towards your bike with an intention to flee quickly.

“Y/n, sweetheart wait up!” The voice caught you off guard and sent shivers down your spine as you turned around with a silent cry for help.

It was just Uncle George.

He strolled slowly with a small box in his hand and a cheerful smile planted on his wrinkled but wise face.

“Good Morning Uncle George, how are you today?” You tried to appear as subtle as you could.

“I’m well darling, I’m glad I caught you before you left!” He spoke with relief as if he has been waiting a thousand years for you.

You glanced to the small wooden box he’s holding in his hand and your apprehension took over before any rational thoughts came in.

“Sorry Uncle if you want me to hand over something to Harry, I believe it is better if you do it.” You tipped him a light smile, as your cheeks burned red from shyness.

“And who said it is for him?” He placed the box in your hands before patting on them.

“Harry asked of me to make this necklace for you as a gift over two weeks ago. It took a while but I assume you know that good things take time?” Your expression was blank and you’re aware that he could probably feel the slight tremble in your hands.

“Sorry sweetheart, my wife is waiting for me.” He walked away toward his shop, something that you didn’t register until you felt the cold wind caressing your cheek, a gesture that Harry used to do.

Uncle George left you speechless as you stood on the pavement, the same way his wife did a while ago.

You no longer cared if Harry was going to show up, your hands immediately opened the box revealing a gold necklace whose design is a circular watch.

You had an inkling; or some sort of urge to turn it, something that your hands did without an order from your brain.

Shiny engraved words into gold stared back at you.

“To a delicate shortcake”

You returned to your apartment shortly after feeling the blood in your legs flow again. You’re not sure how you made it in one piece, not with how foggy your brain was.

Harry had a gift for you?

Delicate shortcake?

The more you try to unfold recent events, the more you get confused.

He did joke once about getting you a watch since you arrived late but you didn’t expect him to be so serious.

The necklace rested on your bedside table, stopping you from going to sleep with a peaceful mind.

To a delicate shortcake.

You huffed and changed your sleeping position to try and divert your attention. You had forgotten all about the letter. You’re not even sure if he read it or if you should come back just in case he didn’t.

A small part of you hoped that you would come back tomorrow and find the letter untouched, yet you had a weird intuition that made you feel unsettled.

You can’t recall when you slept or what your last thought was but the continuous ringing of your phone woke you up.

It took you a bit to register what was happening as you lifted your body up and picked up the phone.

It was one in the morning and Harry was calling you.

It might as well be a dream since you can no longer decipher anything. You waited a couple of seconds before answering just to prepare yourself mentally.

Why was he calling you at this hour?

“Hello?” You pressed the phone to your ear as your heart skipped a beat.

“Y/n— It’s me,Niall! I’m so sorry to call you this late. You’re the only one I could call. It’s about Harry.”

Let me know what you think!!

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brabblesblog · 4 months

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Ch 1: Whither is thy beloved gone?

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

A small scene at breakfast that sets up the situation in the Palace for the past six months.

Read on AO3

Masterlist.

Ban opened her eyes to yet another dawn; a shaft of sunlight peeked through the gap between vermilion curtains, shining on her face. Her hand moved, reaching for the empty space beside her before she stopped herself. There was no need to check - there never was, not for months now.

She made her way out of the gigantic four-poster bed she and her lord sleep in. Her silken robe awaited her, draped over the luxurious couch, and she slipped it on wordlessly. The servants all murmured soft greetings as she passed them on her way to breakfast, but Ban paid them no mind. The days and nights all blended for her, days of meetings and nights of wheedling their way into the high society of Baldur’s Gate. And sex, of course, but even that had become stale to her now. Not that her partner wasn’t a consummate lover - far from it - but the souring of the love she has for him tainted even the most pleasurable of moments.

The doors to the dining room were held open for her, and as she walked in, he looked up. He shot her a wry grin and crossed the room, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. Every morning he did this; it would have made her swoon six months ago.

When he was different. When he was the man she’d loved.

“I had to rise early, love,” he began, as if he didn’t do so every damn morning. “Preparations for renovating the… basement area are finally underway, and I did not want them missing any single detail of what I have planned for it.”

The basement area. The dungeons. He couldn't even bring himself to say the word; he refused any reminder of his past self. If he had his way, people would think he sprang into existence some six months ago. She allowed him to lead her to the ridiculously large table. As always, he was seated at the head and she to his right.

He offered her a tart, which she waved off; it wasn’t as if she could actually enjoy it. Mortal food had been tasteless since she’d turned. Instead she reached for the bottle of blood on the table, warmed just before it was served.

“I’m surprised you even bothered with touching the dungeons,” she said, smiling placidly as her use of the word was rewarded with a glare.

“The basement,” he hissed, “is the most neglected part of the house. It is- never mind.” As expected, Astarion refused any mention of what the basement used to be. “Besides. The artisan guilds are clamoring for space to rent, and as you suggested, I entertained their request.”

It was Ban’s turn to roll her eyes. Astarion was right - she had asked him to focus his attention on not just the patriars, but also the artisan guilds, a calculated decision designed to win more people to their side, to sink their claws deeper into the heart of the city. It made sense to not only win over the very cream of the crop, but also the people slightly below it. At worst, it would be a waste of time and of negligible resources. At best, it would help curtail the surprising resistance the Ascendant had been encountering in his efforts to win over the nobility.

The Szarrs had been a well-known family with noble roots, and so Cazador had the name to match his wealth and status. Astarion Ancunín, however, had no such privilege. Thus, when he’d emerged as the successor to Cazador’s estate, there had been more than a few raised eyebrows. Added to that, Astarion hadn’t had to plan anything in two centuries, so the task of ingratiating them with the city’s gentry had mostly fallen to Ban. Well, the planning and scheming, anyway. The Ascendant acted as the face, charming and manipulating his way through the meetings and parties, while his consort laid out their strategy, playing the perfect lady-wife and hostess.

Plans for a future she'd never desired, but sought for his sake anyway, ambitions and schemes that were all too similar to what her father had groomed her for. It had all come back to her with a distressing effortlessness, the machinations as natural as breathing. She hadn’t seen fit to let Astarion know this, not now. Before the rite, there had been the potential of so much time together that she hadn’t felt any urgency to share the circumstances of her early life with him. After the rite, things had just been... different.

“If it’s for the artisan guilds, then do it,” Ban said, pouring the warmed blood into her glass, taking a sip. “Gods know you need all the support you can get from them, especially considering how tenuous your position has remained with the patriars.”

Astarion scoffed, but didn’t reply to her taunt. Instead he took a long, slow bite of his tart and made an exaggerated gesture of delight, reminding her exactly what she’d been missing out on.

“Well, my treasure, it worked. There will be a ball held a tenday from now, with all the guilds attending.” Pride at managing to pull that off without her aid or knowledge tinged his voice.

Ban narrowed her eyes. All the guilds? Generally she would consider that a significant success, but the fact that she may have to face her family there gave her pause. She took a long pull from her goblet at the thought.

“All the guilds…” she repeated, for a moment not bothering to mask her feelings, her horror bleeding through.

“You’re now reduced to parroting what I say? Pet, I didn’t take you to be so dull,” Astarion sneered, taking the opportunity to strike. He wasn’t stupid; he’d always been aware that things had changed between him and his consort.

It had been a whirlwind of events since he’d ascended. At first, there’d been an overwhelming sense of power, of endless possibilities. He had everything - power, freedom, riches. He had her by his side. The following days had been battle after battle as they’d slowly approached the Netherbrain. There hadn’t been time to reexamine their relationship, other than to realize it was failing. Hells, there had barely been time for him to explore his new abilities.

Then, just as quickly, the brain had been defeated and they were finally alone together. Just the two of them and Cazador’s palace. My palace, he reminded himself. Not his.

They were finally, truly together, the Absolute vanquished at last - it should have been a wondrous time. They should have been happy in each other’s arms, at the start of their shared eternity. But she’d become cold after the rite, a chill that had yet to thaw. She flinched from his touches, from his lips. Her smiles never met her eyes, and all she did was help him lay out plans for his dominion. At night, she yielded to his every desire. Every night he made love to her, as he had been doing since the first night after his ascension. She only played her role, saying the right words, moaning the right way, but he sensed the absence there. None of it ever reached her.

At first, he’d attempted to take whatever emotions she’d shown at face value. She’d seemed to like planning their conquest of Baldur’s Gate, seemed to have taken to heart the words he’d so casually thrown out during their journey, so he’d acted just as enthusiastic about it. She’d seemed to react positively whenever he’d asked for suggestions regarding their schemes; he not being well suited to formulating detailed plans and her proving knowledgeable, he tended to follow her advice. Initially these things had seemed to at least elicit a response in her that wasn't hollowness. As time passed, however, even they had seemed to lose their luster, the emptiness in her eyes becoming more and more prominent.

He had never seen her in silks or in anything expensive throughout their time fighting the Absolute. The moment he’d gotten access to Cazador’s wealth, he’d bought her everything he’d wanted to give her before: gowns, shoes, jewelry. All she had to do was glance at an item once, and it was hers. But the emptiness only grew.

He’d attempted to convince himself he couldn’t understand how they had ended up this way, but truthfully it was that he couldn't admit to himself what he knew the root cause to be. That initial confusion had slowly turned into resentment. Deep down, he knew where he’d gone wrong, of course, but really, was leaving the palace such a big deal?

That had been their first major argument. Astarion had come back from a meeting one day to find Ban gone, the servants explaining she’d left the palace to walk around the city. He had refrained from going after her, but he had been worried. What if someone took the Ascendant’s consort as a hostage? What if she roamed too far, and somehow the extension of his powers failed? Then what? The image of her burning in the sun had filled him with an impotent, all-consuming fury. He had told her not to wander!

When she had finally gotten home, her hands full of pastries she had bought for him, he had flown into a fit of rage.

“How dare you sneak off like that, Ban! Without asking! Without me knowing!”

Ban had flinched. She’d held up the pastries. “I bought them to surprise-”

He’d almost shoved them out of her hands, but had stopped himself. Barely. “Have I not told you, pet, not to stray too far? What if you were hurt? What if you burned in the sun?” His eyes had glinted then, the fires of worry mixing with anger.

“You are mine, and I do not like not knowing where my things are.”

She had tried to argue about having the freedom to go where she pleased, but he’d shut her down the moment she’d begun.

“Do I not buy you everything you wish for? Anything you ask? You merely have to give voice to what you desire, and I shall have it procured for you. But you do not leave. Not without my express permission.”

It had only gone downhill from there.

Astarion snapped back from his reverie when he noticed Ban had ignored his verbal barb. He watched her, realizing this was the first genuine shred of emotion he’d seen from her in weeks. Something was bothering her about having the artisan guilds over for a party, and it piqued his interest. His concern too, of course. But he would never admit that. Even to himself.

He sat up straighter, aiming his words carefully. Precisely.

“My little love,” he cooed, “What… exactly is the issue with our soon-to-be guests? I had assumed you would love to have them over, considering it was your idea to reach out to them and form alliances in the first place.”

Ban froze. Her eyes widened as Astarion asked her this question. While he had yet to compel her to do anything, there was no evidence that he couldn't. Perhaps he already had, and she was unaware. Compulsion was the thing she was most terrified of, because the moment he started - the moment he considered it necessary to keep her - would be the moment she’d lose what little of herself she had left.

So she decided to be honest.

“I never told you where I came from, did I?” she said.

He shook his head. “I doubt you had humbler origins than I did, but no. You have not.”

Ban laughed bitterly and braced herself, pouring out another glass of blood.

“I came from one of the guild’s artisan families.”

His eyebrows rose, surprised and rather pleased, despite himself. They hadn’t had an actual conversation that wasn’t about Baldur’s Gate, its people, or their schemes in weeks. He reined in the venom he’d been wielding so often these days, letting his curiosity take over for the time being.

“Which one? Ca-” he bit his lip, “My former master knew a lot of these guilds. They helped maintain the palace and procured items for him. I have never heard of your family name, nor seen it.”

She laughed again, a real one this time, and his eyebrows rose even further, intrigued.

“We dealt in ornate mirrors.” That explained it. Of course Cazador would not have bothered with that.

The Ascendant huffed in response. “Ironic. Well. You’ll be glad to know I have yet to speak to any mirror-makers. I hadn’t decided on what type of mirror I want for our bedroom, or how grandiose it should be. Shall I ask your family?”

The last sentence was less a taunt and more a genuine question. She seemed to dread seeing them, but if she wanted them here - for whatever reason at all - he would be more than happy to oblige her.

In truth, all he really wanted was her happiness, to bask in the glow of her smile again. He just seemed to have lost sight of how to inspire it ever since he became this version of himself.

Ban took it the wrong way, of course, and visibly stiffened.

“I do not want to see them. I-” her voice cut off, hesitant, “I left years ago. They probably don't even know if I’m alive.”

The Ascendant felt an odd twinge in his chest, a familiar but long-forgotten sensation. None of it was visible on his face, however. He smirked. “Very well, pet.”

Astarion leaned over, fingers tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. Crimson eyes bored into Ban with an intensity that only seemed to unnerve her. “And don’t fret about them. The only family you’ll ever need is me.”

Ban had to look away. She couldn’t stare into those eyes and listen to that voice talk about her family. She had always envisioned this conversation to be one where she’d spill all her secrets to him, and he’d hold her, stroke her hair and tell her everything would be alright. That he understood and loved her anyway. But that time had passed, and so had that man she’d loved. What remained of him was a pale specter.

She had often asked herself if he was even the same man. She’d observed him, and with Gale’s assistance had studied books on the matter. In the end she had come to one painful conclusion: he was Astarion. His worst traits turned up and his greatest strengths diminished, but it was undoubtedly him.

There had been one night when he’d seemed like his old self. One night in the past five months that had given her some small glimmer of hope that he hadn’t completely changed.

She had woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of weeping. Astarion had been lying beside her, arms taut, hands clenched into fists, sweat soaking into the sheets. His face a rictus of pain, his cries a mix of unintelligible words and whimpers. She’d instinctively rushed to hold him; he’d woken up at her touch and his eyes had found hers.

They were his eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re here,” she had crooned, the same words she had repeated in the old days. They’d come back like no time had passed; as if he wasn’t what he was now. Like he was just her Astarion.

He had leaned into her touch, head resting on her chest.

“I’m sorry to wake you, darling,” he’d said; his use of her old nickname had almost made her sob. “He… I saw him again. I’d thought this would be over.”

She’d kissed his forehead then, holding him close. His conscious mind may have tried to deny it, but it seemed like his subconscious was still haunted by Cazador. He had clung to her for dear life that night; she had tried to stay awake, to stop time, so that perhaps he would stay that version of himself forever. But in the end, sleep had won, and as she’d drifted off she had heard him say something which she’d attributed to her own imagination.

“Thank you for still being here,” she’d thought he’d whispered against her chest, “I love you.”

They were spoken with such tenderness that she had doubted it was real. In the morning, he’d been gone from her side, already eating breakfast. He’d acted like nothing had happened in the night, and so she’d had her hopes dashed away; fleeting as they were she had still yearned for it to be real, wishing it had lasted longer than those few moments he was in her arms.

Ever since then, she had attempted to catch any glimpse of her Astarion in the Ascendant. There occasionally seemed to be some hint of him, but it was always too quick, too subtle, and after so many months she’d all but given up. Gone were the days when she’d known which of his honeyed words were lies and which were truth; it felt as though she was back in those days in the Grove when she couldn't read him. Even now, as her lord called himself her family, she found herself wincing internally.

On the outside, she offered him a smile.

“Thank you, Astarion. That means a lot.”

The Ascendant smiled, a toothy grin that would have looked at home in a shark’s maw.

“Of course! And we shall be a bigger family, if only you’ll let me-"

“No,” Ban said, and she was firm. This was another argument they’d constantly waged. He wanted to create an army of spawn, claiming that they would keep her company and serve her and their ambitions. He had promised to procure his spawn ethically, from willing subjects, but she had said no, refusing to doom anyone else to the same fate.

His eyes hardened, fingers twitching on her chin, but he let go. She released the breath she had been holding, worried that this would be when he’d hit the end of his rope and force her obedience.

He exhaled. “Fine. You’ll come around, once you’re alone and bored for a decade or so more.”

Astarion pushed away his breakfast. This hadn’t gone the way he’d wanted it to, and to be frank? Every day since that argument about her leaving the house and having her freedom had gone the same way: to barely veiled insults and chilly indifference. He hated it. He hated what they’d become.

At night when he made love to her, he imagined they were back in that clearing where it all began. At dawn, he watched her sleep and pretended they were back in the Shadow-Cursed lands. Fruitless reminiscing, but it was all he had to hold onto. Memories, each holding the ghost of their love, leaving him to wish it back to life.

He brushed those thoughts away. They were the thoughts of a much weaker man, and he was anything but.

But then why did his newly beating heart ache so much whenever they did this venomous song and dance?

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overleftdown · 4 months

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i finally got around to watching archie madekwe's interview with in creative company and it was astounding, for one. i geeked the fuck out. there's so much to talk about.

his and emerald's understanding of farleigh's character on such a deep level, not just what was on screen, but in his past and in his thoughts... gagged! i was very interested in his interpretation of farleigh's family; archie considers farleigh's mother as a kind of enigmatic fallen star who behaved more as a friend than a parent. archie describes farleigh's childhood as overly mature and neglectful, with the character having to experience more mature and adult situations than he might've in a different family.

another important thing archie touched on was the power dynamics between oliver and farleigh, and how threatening they appeared to each other. archie believes that farleigh didn't truly understand the genius of oliver and how intricate a game he was playing; that never stopped farleigh from observing oliver at any opportune moment. eventually, farleigh had a deeper understanding of oliver's sinister obsession with felix, as well as the way he manipulated the family. this is why, in the karaoke scene, farleigh doesn't bite the bait that oliver offers him. he's not grateful for oliver's sympathy or companionship; he's appalled that oliver would even have a personal conversation with him in the first place.

the dynamic archie describes between felix and farleigh is also really interesting to me. he discusses the transactional nature of their relationship, but also how deeply farleigh loved felix. there was also the need to learn exactly how to behave amongst the cattons; when to pull away, when to fade into the background, where to assert or insert yourself in a situation. farleigh is, above most other things, an observer. the nature in which oliver behaves in the early summer, how clumsily he navigates conversation, incited a lot of judgement from farleigh. part of it was the knowledge that oliver didn't quite fit, didn't make sense among the cattons.

archie talks about how self-serving the majority of farleigh's socialization is, at oxbridge. his opening line is entirely intended to cater towards the people he is walking with. there has always been a need for farleigh to adapt, observe, overthink. in this environment, love is neither unconditional nor reliable.

the biggest difference i've clocked between farleigh and oliver is the way they play the game. farleigh plays his own cards, he analyzes what he's seen, and acts accordingly. whereas oliver integrates, injects, and manipulates. farleigh is playing poker while oliver is playing chess.

i'm an actual blabbermouth.

#farleigh start #oliver quick #archie madekwe #i could actually listen to archie talk about anything for however long and it would be the most engaging thing of my life #hyperfixation rizz #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #farleigh is my favorite last girl #he's got a damn good poker face #you have to admit #the way he played oliver in that karaoke scene?#diabolical #someone needed to humble that white boy #only farleigh could do it!

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starstruckunknown-princess · 27 days

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Belladonna - Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) - Meaning: Silence, betrayal

Summary: Duke Leto's new wife has been neglected. When the Duke finds her under his Swordmaster, he summons her to his office for a talk but it ends up not being what she expected.

Pairing: Leto Atreides x F!Reader, (past fling) Duncan Idaho x F!Reader

Word Count: 918

Warnings: Slight Hurt/Comfort, fluff, Discussion of marital neglect/politically arranged marriage that leads to infidelity, reader has female genitalia but is otherwise not described, slight language, reader tries to appear aloof, Leto is probably OOC, feelings talk, a little husband/wife flirting at the end

Day 4 my loves! This is my first Dune fic and I have only seen the 2021/2024 films and read through some of the Wiki pages so forgive me if there are horrendous inaccuracies. This takes place pre-Dune by about 10 years, so Paul is a kid and Leto is a little younger but still foxy as hell.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are SUPER appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

The thing about Caladan, you had come to learn, is that no matter where you were in the palace you could always hear the ocean. The crash of waves against the cliff below lulled you to sleep every night since your marriage to Duke Leto about two months ago. Sixty days, of which the Duke had only visited your bedchamber twice. The rest he spent, you assumed, in his chambers with Lady Jessica.

In fact, you had barely seen him other than your weekly dinners since the wedding. The dinners were silent affairs, you on one end of the long formal dining table and the Duke on the other. Conversation extended no further than pleasantries. You didn’t mind too much — a political marriage like yours wasn’t meant to inspire affection and since the Duke had his concubine and his heir, you were only there to solidify the alliance between Caladan and your home planet, Calypso-9.

Today, you’d been summoned to his office to discuss yesterday’s incident.

The incident in which he’d found you underneath his Swordmaster Duncan Idaho in the training room. Half-naked. Writhing and crying in pleasure while Duncan pummeled your cervix with his impressive cock. It had been months since you’d been intimate with someone, and during your self-defense training Duncan’s touches while he corrected your form along with the smell of his sweat and endorphins from the exercise had proven to be too much. You’d given in to your baser instincts, and fuck, did it feel good.

Leto hadn’t said anything, only caught your attention with a loud clear of his throat. When he saw your and Duncan’s eyes on him, all he did was about-face and walk out of the room.

He maintained the same stoic expression now. His dark eyes bore into yours as he stroked his beard. You had noticed how large his hands were during your wedding ceremony, and you remembered how they felt on you while he dispassionately consummated your union that night. All you could hear were the waves crashing.

“I think we’re both aware of why I called you here,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“You found me fucking Duncan. I apologize if you were offended, my Lord, but I’m not sure why you called me here. Were you offended? Jealous?” You honestly didn’t know why he would want to hash this out between you unless he was going to scold you for being so indiscreet, which you supposed was deserved.

“What if I was?” He asked, gaze softening before he continued without waiting for your answer, “Even though you and I both know I have no right to be. Our marriage is simply a political arrangement and I have Jessica and Paul while you left your homeworld to come here and be ignored by the husband you never wanted in the first place.”

Gobsmacked. That was the only way you could describe yourself as you picked your jaw up off the floor. To say you hadn’t expected candor of this level was an understatement.

“I…Apologies, my Lord, but-”

“Leto.”

“Pardon?”

“You are my wife, there’s no need for formalities. Call me Leto.”

You held back a scoff, turning it into a light sigh instead. “Since this is the second longest conversation we’ve ever had, you’ll forgive my hesitation with familiarities, but alright. Leto,” he nodded gratefully, so you continued, “I don’t fully understand your meaning.”

“What I mean is I am angry about what I saw yesterday but not for the reasons you may think. I’m not upset with you because I understand that I am what drove you into the arms of my Swordmaster. I am angry with myself for neglecting you so cruelly since our wedding and I promise to do better by you. Perhaps not to Duncan’s extent, but-”

You burst out laughing, which caused his brows to knit together in confusion. His large hands folded in front of him on his desk as you tried to get yourself under control.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you said, waving a hand in front of you, “I don’t mean to be laughing, I swear, but…is that all it would’ve taken to get your attention?”

“Well, no, but-”

“To think all I had to do was fuck someone else…I would’ve gotten your attention weeks ago.”

“You’ve…been wanting my attention?”

This time you let your scoff out, “Of course! When my father told me he’d found me a husband I expected some old, ugly lord with at least two dead wives and no heirs. You cannot imagine the relief I felt when we met and you were none of those things.”

“I’m not not old,” he chuckled, ducking his head.

“Oh, pish, you’re barely forty, and don’t look it.”

He looked up at you from under his regal brow and you felt butterflies stirring in your chest. “And you are one of the most beautiful women who has ever stepped foot on Caladan.”

You couldn’t help the blush that rose in your cheeks, “Are you flirting with me, Leto?”

“Perhaps. You are my wife after all,” he smirked, standing from behind his desk and coming around it, offering his arm to you. “Would you like to walk with me? A proper tour of the grounds?”

You accepted, resting your hand in the crook of his arm and subtly stroking his inner forearm. “And maybe we can stop in the training room?”

His smirk widened into a smile and you were enchanted at the sight. “Whatever my wife desires.”

#writing challenge #fanfiction #dune fanfiction #leto atreides x you #leto atreides x reader #duncan idaho #political marriage au #dune fic #dune fanfic #duke leto x reader #duke leto x you #duke leto atreides #in bloom

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verycharismaticdragon · 10 months

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Y'know I'm not going to go and argue with people but I'm. kinda weirded out by the "Shen Yuan's family was actually neglectful/awful/abusive" takes? Because we have a story where:

a point is made about cycles of violence and how abuse creates more abuse (with Qiu Jianluo - Shen Jiu - Bing-ge sequence).

a point is made about how the person can turn out very differently depending on their environment growing up (with differences between Bing-ge and Bing-mei).

And like... how does one look at those two points, then at Shen Yuan saying he had a loving family, and forgoes the obvious conclusion - that growing up in a stable home is what sets him apart in the world of PIDW (including from literal author of the world who is a lonely and embittered child of the divorce!) and allows him to change it with the power of love & kindness & bonding with people - in favor of deciding that his family was ~actually~ horrible?..

In that case, what makes him capable of breaking the cycle? Some kind of innate goodness or kindness? That, for some reason, no other character happened to possess? Right. Nice going completely devaluing Shen Jiu's tragedy.

To explain the last point: we get a lot of backstory for Shen Jiu, and the obvious takeaway from it is that he was not born a scum villain. That he did have a desire to do (and be) good, but it just couldn't flourish - because of a combination of terrible circumstances of his youth, his personal flaws, and the demands of the meta-narrative.

Thing is... two of those problems, he shares with Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan has his own personal flaws aplenty, even if they differ from Shen Jiu's, and a literal manifestation of the meta-narrative haunting him. But, unlike Shen Jiu, he happened to have a good family. That is their fundamental difference.

If one argues that Shen Yuan's family situation actually wasn't good, then what allows him to be so different from Shen Jiu? Isn't that saying that Shen Yuan was just a good person from the start... and Shen Jiu was just a bad person from the start? you know, the exact sentiment that made Shen Jiu give up on himself? And isn't it flattening Shen Jiu's story from a tragedy of a person who was broken out of his desire to do good by his terrible circumstances, into just 'a bad guy doing bad things because he's bad'? like, exactly what Airplane did to him in PIDW...

---

But, some of you may ask, don't we have evidence that Shen Yuan wasn't actually very happy in his past life?

Thing is, I don't disagree with that! I just think it didn't necessarily have anything to do with the quality of his home life.

For starters, having a loving family is not everything. Like, even if you just look at Maslow's pyramid, "love and belonging" is actually in the middle of the thing. Shen Yuan could have a perfectly fine, caring family and still be unfulfilled on "esteem" (recognition and respect from other ppl + personal feelings of accomplishment) and "self-actualization" (becoming the best possible version of himself) levels.

And that's before we factor in that he's a(n obviously if you read between the lines) queer dude who grew up in a country that criminalizes queerness which is something I don't see brought up a lot in discussions of the strength of his internalized homophobia, and the possibility that he is an undiagnosed neurodivergent person (i personally hc him as having adhd-I, i know there are also ppl with autistic headcanons, could be both, etc etc), and the influence of his social circle outside his family (cishet dudes on the forums, from what he know, so not the most positive and uplifting bunch)...

---

Lastly, while I think the thematic evidence from the first half of this meta is more telling, there are also a few small in-text details that prove Shen Yuan's words about how close-knit his family was.

First, the way he compares Yue Qingyuan to his older brothers in the very beginning, at the time he is still finding his footing and YQY is the one person looking out for him. (On the subject of SY!SQQ and YQY, just read this post, I won't be able to put it better.) Shen Yuan is explicitly "feeling at home in the atmosphere of brotherly love".

Second, the fact that we know he read his younger sister's danmei novels. On Shen Yuan's side, literally how committed he had to be to supporting his sister's interests, when we know from being in his head how determined he is about playing ostrich with anything and everything gay. No shit he spoiled her, I believe that one hundred percent. And on his sister's side, the level of trust she has towards her brother? Having full confidence that she could make him read gay bdsm and he wouldnt love her any less?..

---

So yeah, I think all signs point to Shen family being as close-knit and loving as Shen Yuan says.

#svsss #svsss meta #shen yuan #shen yuan's family #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #(i guess since i went on a mini rant about him in the middle)#scum villain's self-saving system #scum villain's self saving system #danmei novels #mxtx

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major-wren · 1 year

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Eggman's programming

I know this has been mentioned before, but isn't it so weird that Eggman programs emotions and personalities into his robots??

People point out that this is really self destructive on his end because it can lead to some of his creations turning against him after building resentful emotions toward him, like Omega, Gamma, and all of the robots on Scrapnik Island.

My personal headcanon behind his thought process is that not even pure mechanical obedience can rival the loyalty a creation will have to its creator, or "father." It doesn't matter if you reprogram or rewire its entire structure to have its own free will if it's inherent personality, aspirations, and deepest desires will always be to make eggman proud of them, because of the way he's designed and conditioned them. They'll always return to him no matter how many chances you give them, because he's made it so that their biggest desire is to make him proud, even when given free-will or reprogrammed.

We see this most clearly with Metal Sonic, and Sonic will even tease him and take digs at him for it in the comics, telling him to "run home to daddy" (cringe). Clearly, even the characters in-story can see how eggman has raised all of his creations to depend on him for any sense of self worth or purpose. Truly evil, and I think something that's always overlooked when discussing eggman. People say he's not a respectable villain but I think this is really compelling and a unqiue way for a villain to function. Especially because his design is pretty dad-like to begin with, with the mustache, glasses, round body, and bald head lol.

It's so effective, that even when Metal Sonic gains even more power than Eggman through becoming Neo-Metal, he still only wants to take over the world to gift to Eggman. His influence even goes past his creations and gains loyalty from other aspiring inventors, like Dr. Starline.

Most of all, I think it's so effective because it's genuine. He really does love his creations, but simultaneously holds them up to impossible expectations and holds severe disappointment in them when they fail. I mean, think of it. Isn't it awful to design a creation that entirely depends on you for any feeling of worth or purpose, and to make it capable of love and such, only then to neglect and abandon it when it doesn't live up to your impossible standards? Just think of Scrapnik Island and the sheer amount of abandoned bots there.

I think after seeing Mr. Tinker and Belle, it raises the question, does Eggman deep down just want to foster these fatherly connections? To build childrens' toys and fun-rides and kiddy amusement parks, with his helpful heart-filled robot creations? He does often say that he only wants to take over the world in order to "enhance it" with technology, and that people just aren't cooperating. Maybe somewhere down the line his pure intentions got corrupted somehow into this extreme need for absolute control.

#major mumbles #eggman #sonic the hedgehog #sonic idw #idw sonic #doctor eggman #dr eggman #metal sonic #neo metal sonic #belle the tinkerer #bell the tinkerer #ivo robotnik #robotnik #e 123 omega #e-123 omega

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yanderes-galore · 11 days

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This is sort of a collab between me and @okchijt as we were discussing this on Discord while I was writing this. I'm in a watch party with them to watch Helluva Boss so... Here's some self indulgence about Blitzø :) Pacing is a bit everywhere due to our conversation process. Here's the pure brainrot!

Please Read Trigger Warnings For Mature Themes, The moment you click Read More you have consented to seeing this content.

Yandere! Blitzø Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Manipulation, Gaslighting/Blackmail, Trauma, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Fear of attachment/vulnerability, Enabling behavior, Jealousy, Delusional behavior, Mentions of Death, Paranoia, Poor mental health, Swearing, Mature content, Secret picture taking, Violence/Murder, Forced date, Blood, Threats, Guilt-tripping, Mentions of intimacy/Sexual content but nothing too graphic, Intoxication, Forced/Dubious relationship.

Word Count: 1446 words.

Blitz is an obsessive stalker yandere who is fiercely protective/controlling of his obsession.

The moment you leave his sight, Blitz has a tendency to panic.

He needs to know where you are and only trusts a select few people with you.

Said people are Loona, Millie, and Moxxie.

This is most likely an AU after Stolas and Blitz "break up".

In that case, Blitz may not trust Stolas around you.

Speaking of Stolas, said Owl Prince may be jealous and condescending towards you due to Blitz trying to be with you.

I'm going to be honest, Blitz would be a mess as a yandere.

His whole life he's wanted that domestic sort of life with his obsession.

He craves connection, even if he originally tries to push you away.

But if you manage to stay despite what he says... then you have a clingy Imp on your hands.

He's known you for awhile, be that as one of his employees or a close friend who sticks around despite what he says.

The obsession probably starts in this concept with you comforting him about Stolas.

He's scared to let you in at first, not wanting to look vulnerable.

However, push hard enough and be there for him?

Well now he can't let you go.

Like... LITERALLY.

Blitz is surprisingly affectionate towards you once he's attached, both verbally and physically.

Blitz would want his obsession to get along with Loona, his adopted daughter.

Speaking of which, Loona may be a subtle manipulator or step in if you decide to neglect to turn on Blitz.

Especially if it benefits her.

Moxxie would be concerned for the relationship between you two.

He may try to speak up about it, but the others would shut him down.

Which would cause him to just... stay quiet despite your feelings.

Although, Millie would enable everything, thinking the bond you have is cute.

When Blitz turns obsessive, Moxxie may be your only ally.

Moxxie tries to ease your worries, he genuinely wants to find a way to help both you and Blitz.

However... Blitz would be so UPSET if he saw you so close to Moxxie.

He has a fear of losing you, while he knows Moxxie won't steal you from him... he hates you being close with others.

As a result, Blitz may isolate you socially... or insert himself into everything you do with others.

For example, if you were clubbing... he's coming to.

Anywhere you go, he'll be there... be it out of sight or right by your side.

He's so obsessive with the idea of a "healthy" relationship, he completely forgets the fact he is actively messing up the only somewhat normal relationship he has again... since you've been with him through nearly everything already, he's blind to his actions.

What doesn't help is no one but Moxxie points out the issues.

Definitely bans any sort of mention of Stolas in I.M.P.

He doesn't want you or anyone bringing up his past relationships as he wants to move on with his new beloved.

He genuinely thinks you're his perfect match and refuses to hear anyone else out on it.

Blitz is normally really clingy and hard to get rid of, so he usually doesn't need to resort to kidnapping.

However, if he did, he'd lock you in his apartment with max security.

Going back to Loona, she'd pity you a bit but not actually help you.

In fact, she's literally the guard dog for Blitz.

You won't be able to leave as Loona can hear every movement you make.

If you're caught, she'll tell Blitz, or convince you to go back to bed beside Blitz on the couch.

It would be hard to even leave the couch as Blitz practically digs his claws into you and clings to you as he sleeps.

If you worked with him, you'd slowly be unable to go on missions since the job is so dangerous.

In fact, Blitz may keep you with Loona, it's unknown who's babysitting who though.

He may not care much about his own safety, but he cares a lot about you.

He'd probably break if you died on him.

Speaking of which, Blitz has already lost a ton of people in his life anyways.

If you, the only person who genuinely gave a shit, died on him?

You can bet he just... never recovers.

Not even the others can fix him.

Which is why he is so insistent on hiding you away.

Blitz would hate it if you neglected him affection, clinging to you like you're his only lifeline.

If you eventually caved and gave him affection, even out of pity, he'd break down in your arms.

That way he thinks you love him back... and he just wants to be loved.

Blitz would stalk you constantly, taking pictures and recordings along with following you wherever you go.

Human, Hellborn, Sinner, whatever... he'd follow you everywhere no matter where you went.

Be that another layer of Hell, or the human world, he just needs to be near you.

Your status and species of demon/human would change the dynamic between you and Blitz in some ways too.

He may even baby you, he isn't trying to be condescending, but he just...finds babying you cute.

Blitz is extremely manipulative, he may even be the type of yandere to gaslight or blackmail you into staying with him.

He'd guilt you into staying with him by saying "you're the only one that bothered to help him".

If he was drunk, he'd start rambling about how you helped him... essentially starting to trauma dump on you.

If you tried to point out the issues in your relationship with him, he'd act like there's nothing wrong.

If you tried to leave him and guilting doesn't work, he's find dirt on you and blackmail you into staying beside him.

Blitz would force you onto little dates (Like horse riding).

He's thinking you two are having fun, in reality you probably aren't.

Honestly, would it even be a Blitz concept if I didn't mention violence or murder in some way?

If you got hurt on a mission, Blitz would lose it.

No one would need to help him, he'd single handedly slaughter everyone around him.

By the time the bloodbath is over, he's covered in the stuff and immediately pulling you close.

He'd coo over you, telling you there's no need to worry... he took care of it.

That would most likely be when he'd pull you off missions, too.

If he ever lost you somewhere, he's threatening everyone for answers on your whereabouts.

You're so isolated with him there's barely any issue when it comes to "rivals".

Although, if he somehow sees you secretly speaking with someone other than him... he'd threaten them and if that doesn't work, he may attack them like some sort of feral cat.

Blitz would not blame his darling for anything, he's that delusional.

He thinks you could do no wrong and just blames those around you.

Obviously others are the problem, not him.

That includes Moxxie, as I can see him thinking Moxxie is trying to turn you against Blitz.

Ever seen scenes with Blitz being affectionate with Loona or the others?

Yeah, he's like that with you, but more intense.

He's practically all over you when it comes to affection.

Blitz sees everyone as a threat to his relationship with you.

Maybe not Millie or Loona, but that may include Moxxie.

It definitely includes Stolas due to his paranoia, he fears the prince will take you from him.

Striker would also count due to his motives.

I don't usually mention this in my concepts, but Blitz is sexually active.

He wouldn't force you into anything, but he's certainly needy when it comes to that.

Blitz wouldn't blame you too much if you called him Blitzo.

He'd calmly correct you, but treat it as a mistake and warn you not to do it again.

Blitz wants to know everything about his darling, both inside and out.

He may not say much about himself, but he'd nearly interrogate you about everything you like and dislike.

He wants to give the best gifts and foods for you since he adores you.

If someone ever hurt you in your past, or even the present, he'd just get revenge for you.

He'll make their fate slow.

Anything from a childhood bully or abuser, yeah they're gone.

Overall, Blitz comes off as a rather feral, intense, and clingy yandere.

You're stuck with him, like it or not, all so he can chase the companionship he never truly had in a long time.

#yandere helluva boss #yandere blitz #yandere blitzo #yandere blitzø

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jaegeraether · 6 months

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 15)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (15)

Masterlist (other parts here)

The morning had been filled with more sex, desperate kisses and grabbing, biting and fucking. But it was more than just sex, much more, and they both knew it. It was the most expressive way that they could both show each other just how much they affected each other. How much they meant to each other. And damned if they weren’t going to use every second they had in their little happy bubble.

YFN had managed to convince Lucy that she’d be okay to go to the embassy alone. She knew Lucy had been neglecting her knee to spend time with her and was overdue for some recovery sessions. Lucy insisted on dropping her off regardless and left to do her physio.

YFN was nervous, but she had nothing to worry about. She met a nice man called Martin who looked over her case and listened to her explanations of what happened. He told her that complaints were common and that he didn’t agree with the system and how it operated. “This isn’t America. We aren’t ICE!” He’d said gruffly and they spoke a little about how it shouldn’t be so easy to make anonymous complaints of someone’s Visa when they were ‘clearly within the legal parameters of such Visa’. They had a good chat about him, his partner and his children, while he went through his paperwork. They spoke about her previous job and how her visit was going. He’d appreciated the mountain of evidence she’d brought, both self-researched and from Lucy’s lawyers. It turned out he was a huge football supporter -as she was realising that most of the UK were- and his daughter even played in the under 15s. He ducked away apologetically to confirm her character reference was who she said they were, and of course Ridley had answered the phone. He came back gushing over her, like everyone who met her did. An acquired taste, but very intelligent and loveable. He’d even apologised when he’d gotten back as the conversation went longer than expected – the effect Ridley had on people. Again, she wasn’t surprised.

Martin offered her Visa back, along with his number to call in case another complaint was made, or for any other future changes to her Visa.

YFN felt comfortable enough with him to ask about Visa’s for Europe as well as the possibility of working in the UK. They’d discussed the apparent lack of interviewers for women’s sport and again, he was eager. She showed him an example of the column she used to write in Australia which was very much open to whatever topic controversial enough for her to deem worthy of a column, and he moved around a few appointments to talk to her about her options. She had a few different options, but he guided her towards the sponsorship from a company. She needed to be guaranteed at least 6 months of work and the Visa was for 2 years with the ability to progress to other Visa’s past that. YFN hadn’t personally spoken to the company Katie and Caitlin had been speaking of, and she didn't mention them to Martin, but he seemed confident she would find work. She liked him, he seemed a lovely family man and exactly the type of person she’d needed to sort out the mess that had been made. Somehow, the horrible situation had turned out completely in her favour.

They parted ways, Martin again insisting that she use his number with any more Visa changes or questions, and she was excited to tell Lucy the news, and the possibility of staying around Europe for longer. She loved giving her good news.

She came out of the appointment after being there for a few hours and opened her phone. She immediately saw that Lucy had posted some pictures of her rehab session, including some boxing. YFN could feel her body heat at the sight, and she bit her lip. She liked the post, of course, and commented with a bicep emoji, and a face exhaling emoji. Lucy would know what she meant. She did, after all, have hickey’s on her biceps from their adventures over the past 24 hours, and she wasn’t apologetic about that at all. She was obsessed with her biceps and whenever she had a chance, they were always in her hands, or under her mouth. She found it hard to believe that this woman, Lucy Bronze, the jaw-droppingly sexy woman in those photo's, was her girlfriend, and had quite literally been inside her last night. And this morning. She caught her thoughts, biting her lip again.

She didn’t want to rush Lucy, and so she gave her a simple text saying she was out exploring London whenever she was finished, and to not rush. When she and Jordan were alone, she’d changed the time of the booking she had to 3pm, because she had no idea how long the Visa would take and regardless, she wanted Lucy to have a good amount of hours with her session.

Of course, Lucy called her almost immediately.

“I can com-”

“No, Luce. You stay.”

“But-”

“Luciiiia.” Unlike everyone else, she pronounced it as ‘Loo-chee-ah’, which she knew Lucy loved.

“I don’t like you out there alone with…”

“I know, love.” She said softer, repeating Lucy’s words from the night before. It filled her with butterflies, and she swore she could hear Lucy soften over the phone. “I’m happy to explore and I’ll stay around people. I’ll be fine, just please… please focus on your health and your knee. I’ll see you at 2:30, okay? I’ll message you where we can meet..”

Lucy wasn’t keen on the idea, but she reluctantly agreed.

For the first time, YFN found herself in the dead centre of London and although she wanted to enjoy herself, she always felt her eyes wandering around for those girls, and so she made sure to stay near people in case anything happened. Regardless, she tried to enjoy her day. She wandered around looking at shops and the old buildings in wonder, making sure to take photos for her Nan, and send a few to Lucy as a way of telling her she was okay. She sat in a park for a little while and read some of the book she’d brought, feeling the sun on her skin. It wasn’t as harsh as the sun in Australia, but it was just enough to cut through the breeze and keep her skin sun-kissed and warm.

When 2:30pm eventually came around, YFN was wandering to the spot she told Lucy to meet at, and there she was, standing outside, leaned up against her car, the most attractive human being on the planet. YFN could feel her body reacting, needing her. She was in shorts, of course, her knee strapped, and she was so goddamn tanned from Spain. Her ankles were crossed, as well as her arms and her biceps stretched her white Nike shirt. Just the outline of her body, those muscled thighs, biceps, shoulders, were sending her crazy and that was without mentioning her throat, or her jawline that could probably cut paper. She was scanning the park for YFN, her eyes looking in the opposite direction so she could better see that jawline and the features of her face. Having just been to training, she was without glasses and her face looked almost naked to her. She could brush her lips over each part of her face like she had last night, and it still wouldn’t be enough. As she got closer, Lucy spotted her, and that wide grin crossed her face. YFN sped up and jogged towards her for two reasons: 1) because she didn’t want Lucy to have to walk on her knee more than she had to and, 2) she couldn’t stand being apart from her a second longer. Her arms wrapped around her Lucy and they fell back into the car with a chuckle. Lucy’s arms around her were just as strong and needy as her own. Her head found its favourite place on her collarbone, forehead to her neck and she breathed her in. She smelled like vanilla and bitter orange. Lucy’s smell. The smell that was home to her now.

“God I missed you.” Lucy groaned, kissing YFN wherever she could reach. YFN giggled and tilted her head back, accepting all of the love.

“London is pretty… and I missed you more.”

“Impossible.” Lucy refused between kisses.

“Your post sent me wild..”

Lucy pulled back with a wide grin and flirty green eyes. “Oh, you liked it, did you? I was hoping you would..”

“I’m loving your boxing era.”

“Good thing it’s around to stay then. Best way to do cardio without straining my knee, plus, I’m really enjoying it. Building more muscle.” She flexed her bicep and YFN grinned.

"Well not the best way to do cardio..."

Lucy groaned.

YFN's hands glided their way up her back and shoulders, dipping over the muscles that she’d worked so hard for. She could feel herself getting wet and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, voice husky but curious.

“Calming myself down.” She said and took another breath.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the sexiest human being to ever exist and I’m trying to stop myself getting so excited.”

Lucy was silent until YFN had to open her eyes to look. Lucy’s expression was flirty, needy, in control, and horny. Her hands slid down YFN’s sides, over her waist, her hips, and found their way to her ass where they grabbed and began sliding back up her back, pressing them together.

“All mine.” Lucy growled in a way that said there was absolutely no arguing to be done as she crashed their lips together, pulling her against her body by her lower back. YFN returned the passion eagerly, one hand on the side of Lucy’s neck, the other at the back of her head. She was hers. Her body shuddered at the want, the need, the passion in which Lucy claimed her. Their tongues met and brushed each other teasing, while they gasped for breath.

YFN eventually found the strength to pull away first. “Public, Lucia…” she reminded her. Lucy grunted, still holding her tight, her lips brushing over her temple, her cheek, her jaw. When she started going for her throat, YFN had to give her another warning. She’d never had sex in public before but fuck, she was just about to if Lucy didn’t find the strength to stop.

Lucy groaned and pulled back, lips well kissed and breathing ragged. It was good to see that YFN had the same effect on Lucy as she did for her.

“How have I survived without you this long?” She asked, shaking her head, and YFN knew she wasn’t referring to the past 7 hours.

“I was just thinking the same thing…” She managed to regain her composure just a little and only due to the sound of people around them. “Ready for our second date?”

It was a rage room. Or so that’s all Lucy thought it was. She was kept in the dark from the moment YFN had said she’d plan the second date, right up to the point where they were in overalls and goggles, locked in a room with baseball bats and other weapons of choice. Lucy was pleasantly surprised, her face lighting up and her inner child bubbling to the surface.

“We’ve had a bit of a rough time lately…” YFN explained. “I figured we could get some stress out?”

And they did. Lucy was hesitant at first, not wanting to show her rage. But after YFN was more than willing to demonstrate her frustrations by taking an axe to the window of a car, Lucy let loose. And absolutely fucking destroyed the room. It started with a grin, it shifted to annoyance, then rage, then it simmered back down to pure fun. She’d needed this and didn’t even realise it.

After the room was destroyed and she thought she was done, she dropped the bat, panting. Suddenly she was hit in the neck, a wet substance exploding on her skin, splashing down onto her overalls and up onto her face. She still had a surprised look on her face as she turned towards her little Australian who had a devious look on hers. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and she was tossing a paint balloon in her hand. Her favourite movie.

“You want me to be your Heath Ledger?” Lucy challenged.

YFN chuckled and threw another one, and Lucy the athlete was easily able to avoid it. Then she ran. Lucy dove for the other bag on the ground, tugging it over her shoulder as she chased her around the room. Her first red paint balloon smacked into her shoulder, and the next smacked a perfect blue target on her ass. They shouted and chased, teased, and tried to hide behind items. YFN was worried for Lucy’s knee, but it didn't seem to be a concern for the right back at all. As they were covered with different colours of the rainbow and running out of ammo, Lucy tackled her to the ground and they smashed their last balloons over each other before their lips crashed together. Their tongues met again, and Lucy groaned, grabbing the back of her thigh and pulling it up around her.

“Aaaaand time’s up folks!” A voice rang through the speakers as the door clicked.

The date had them both smiling so hard that their cheeks were sore and YFN felt happy knowing she’d chosen the right thing for their second date. They wiped off as much paint from each other as they could, but it was still caked in their hair, patching their faces and necks. They knew they wouldn’t be getting the colours out of their nails for days.

On the way home, they stopped by a pizza place that Jordan had suggested they try. YFN figured that the perfect end to the date would be a casual pizza takeaway at home with cuddles and blankets. Lucy was more than keen on the idea. She pulled up outside of the pizza restaurant and left the car running.

“I’ll go pick it up.” Lucy leant over and kissed YFN on the lips like they’d been together years. “I’ll just be a minute, little one.”

YFN’s cheeks flushed slightly, her little butterflies coming to life. Since she’d texted Lucy where she was, she hadn’t picked up her phone all night and it was such a good feeling. She loved being detached from it, especially lately when it had been causing so much stress. She enjoyed it so much that she’d used Lucy’s phone to place the pizza order on, not wanting to see her phone until tomorrow.

But apparently not even that could remove the problems that had inserted themselves so abruptly into her life. Still smiling, she looked out of Lucy’s window and saw two of them staring at her, pointing and yelling. Before she had time to process beyond shock, they were running across the road for the car. YFN panicked and leant over, slamming the door locks on. They grabbed at the door, trying to yank it open. YFN’s eyes were wide with shock as they smashed against the car, shouting abuse at her. She almost froze, and considered beeping the horn but she didn’t want Lucy to run out and be hurt by these maniacs. Then she made the mistake of turning to look out her window for her girlfriend and locked eyes with her. Kristie. She put her phone up to the window clearly showing YFN a photo of her and Lucy kissing when she'd picked her up at the park.

“I warned you, you fucking slut! She’s mine!” She yelled, pure hatred in her voice.

Kristie took a few steps back, her arm raising behind her. Then a brick shattered through the window and collided with her head. And then, black.

#lucy bronze #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze x reader #woso #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze imagine #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso soccer #england lionesses

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sprout-fics · 8 months

Text

Falling Down to Earth (Part Two)

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Medic "Fix" Reader)

Part Four of Snowblind

Rating: Mature Wordcount: 7.3k Tags: Slow Burn, Heavy Angst, Trauma, Found Family, Taskforce 141, Team Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Unreliable Narrator, Self Esteem Issues, Referenced Familial abuse, Mom Laswell, Domesticity Warnings: Discussions of childhood verbal abuse A/N: Fix was originally written as a reader insert, and has since graduated into something more of an OC. Her series with Ghost is written in second person POV, but many aspects of her character remain complex and dependent on the lore I've created for her. This chapter details her past, and in doing so details childhood trauma and verbal abuse. Please mind the tags and read at your own discretion.

In the weeks that follow, the wind carries you in your descent down to Earth.

There's a peace, a tranquility to Laswell's home that feels wholly unfamiliar to you. Nestled in a quiet, unassuming suburb, you wake just after dawn to the sounds of birdsong and leaf blowers, of dog walkers and parents hustling children into cars on their way to school. The scent of arabica coffee wafts from downstairs in the kitchen, and with it comes the memory of Ethiopia, of the moss green and sandy highlands that peeked beyond the flap of your medical tent. You journey back there behind fluttering eyelashes, remember the aching loneliness that even now sits hollow inside your heart, and once more recall the dusty wind as your only friend.

You keep Paula and Kate's company, but even there it feels like a piece of you is missing. You've long since stopped trying to recall the voices of the 141, feeling the healing wound in your side ache fiercely every time the memory of their faces flashes in your thoughts. You press it down just like you do with all things, compress it down into your marrow no matter how much it hurts, and think perhaps the fractures it gives you will heal into something stronger. You hide the ache behind your vain attempts at a smile, and you feel a flutter of alarm in the cast of concern behind the gazes of Kate and Paula as if they know.

Nobody can know. If they see, if they know...

You shove away the thought before you can finish. Each time it is summoned you try desperately to revoke it, to keep your hands busy so as to distract you from the tumult of your thoughts.

The first week at Kate's is spent memorizing the routines of the two women, of trying to find ways to make yourself useful. Paula chases you from the kitchen more than once when you offer to cook, relegating you instead to chop vegetables or wash dishes. So you try other ways to earn your keep. You take Whiskey on long winding walks until he tugs in the direction of home. You repair the ice maker, you find the issue with the vacuum chord, you fix the flickering light in the basement.

"I see why they call you 'Fix'." Paula remarks to you, and you offer a faint smile, unsure how to say the thing that weighs heavy on your heart. That you need to do this, you need to do this so you can stay.

By the end of the second week you have exhausted all available opportunities within the house and take it upon yourself to busy your mind with the studies you neglected during your off-days with your team. Old lessons of Arabic and Russian are refreshed in your brain, and Kate finds herself a welcome conversation partner at dinner, much to the mild annoyance of Paula, who fails to discern the language between you two. Kate smiles in offering small corrections to your syntax and pronunciation, supplying the words that make your brow furrow in concentration.

"No Russian." Paula chastises her wife, pointedly gesturing at her with a salad fork, and Kate relents with a chuckle.

Yet when you ask Kate for materials, for reports in Russian that you can read and decode in helping with intelligence for the Taskforce, Kate only levies a grimace with a distant, sad concern underneath.

"Not yet Fix." She tells you softly, and you don't stop falling, trying to navigate this dimension in which you aren't useful to them, in which you can’t prove yourself so they’ll keep you a little longer.

Yet it seems the more you pre-occupy yourself, the more worry festers behind the eyes of the two women who have taken you in. You can't understand it, fail to comprehend the anxiety you see when they look at you.

"Have you ever considered allowing yourself to take a break?" Your therapist asks you, in his cluttered office filled with plants and sunshine.

You stiffen in your chair, shoulders taut with energy you can't conceal, a gale brewing in your thoughts as your mind reels under the scrutiny.

You don't answer, but your silence speaks volumes.

"I have to prove myself." You write in your journal that night, lit by the dim glow of the desk light in the guest room. "I need to be better, to do better. I need to prove I can do it. If I fail here too, where else is there to go?"

Yet even as you write the words in rushed, slanted handwriting, you already know.

"I can't go back to them. To him. Not after what he did to me."

Memories of a different kind. Shiny black shoes and perfectly styled hair ribbons, mahogany desks and lace white napkins. Your crumpled school uniform and bandaged knuckles that sting almost as much as the sound of your father's infuriated, booming voice. It's wordless, the things he said to you long since carried away by the wind, but the imprint of them lays imprinted on your skin, upon the tremble of your hands as you grip the pen in your hand like a scalpel with which to dissect yourself.

It hurts.

You think, somewhere deep inside, it's always hurt.

Yet you've long since de-sensitized yourself to the pain, feeling it shred inside you like a cyclone ripping branches from the elm of your heartbeat and ignoring it so you hike up the mountain of expectations where you'll never see the zenith. You don't know how else to live, don't know a way to find the childhood of yourself before you changed into what you are now. You think you glimpse the figure of your younger self as you fall, see her pass through the clouds just as you do, hurtling down into an unknown future neither of you can predict. Just like the ever-changing tides of the ocean below, you can't find the wavering headwind to catch under your melting wings.

She reaches for you in your dreams, your younger self, a tiny outstretched hand as if she can save you from your rapid descent. You don't know what it means, but you can't resist the urge to reach back, try and embrace her as you so desperately wanted when you were both the same. There's a distant part of you that thinks perhaps if you hold her long enough, you can undo the scars that have never healed inside you. You think maybe you can save her.

The reminder of your own failure lays heavy against your side, stitches that crisscross over purpled flesh where the last of your infection fades away. You know the scar of it will keep just like all the others- a blemished history of failures that effaces your flesh.

It's the threat of being one more failure away from cataclysmic impact that drives you to wake early, to read Russian news over breakfast, to skim the news from the Middle East in the afternoon, to spend long hours at the Red Cross doing every manner of task they request of your honed medic skills. It's the same force that has you trying to run to the edges of the Earth and back just to say you can.

You wonder sometimes if it's enough, if it will ever be enough.

No matter how hard you try, to prove to Kate that there isn't a looming maw of despair and regret inside you, that she seems to see past your efforts anyways. She tries to tell you to rest, that you don't need to try as hard as you do. Yet all it does is make you panic, knowing her gray eyes can peer past your forced smiles and laughter, your achievements and your vain efforts to prove that you're fine. That everything is fine. It always has been. Why would it not be?

You tell your therapist just as much, from where he sits across from you. You web your fingers together on your lap, hide the tremble there with an easy, practiced smile, force your shoulders to relax as you maintain a poised air of perfect composure. You convey to him your achievements as of late, boast about your ability to understand the Russian newscasters and the Arabic of the woman at the Red Cross who delights in your knowledge of a familiar language. You tell him how you're valued by the other volunteers, that you are getting back down to your regular time on a 5k run, that you're doing fine. Better than fine. You're making the most of your time on your forced leave, you're ready to go back.

Your therapist looks unconvinced. He listens serenely, nods to what you are saying. Yet he doesn't speak. He lets the silence between you two weigh down, and it feels so much like the calm before the storm, the one where a thick veil of ocean thunderclouds rolls in your thoughts.

"How is this different from what brought you here?"

You blink, and all at once the air in the room seems to suck into nothingness, an abstract absence of noise and movement in which the only thing you feel is the pressing weight of his eyes upon you. Even so you smile carefully, ignore the way your breath catches in your chest and try to ask him what he means.

When he sighs, pulls his glasses to rub at his brow, you feel the familiar sensation of sinking pull you downwards. Down, and the chasm of the dark churning ocean yawns below, beneath the grey blanket of storm clouds you hurtle towards in an imminent doom.

"You were injured, and you started trying to rush your healing process, and in doing so injured yourself further." He elaborates, nodding to your almost healed injury at your side. "How is this different?"

You swallow, try not to taste the distant scent of sea salt on your tongue. The wind rushes in your ears along with the thrum of your heartbeat. It feels unstoppable, and once more you find yourself helpless to the sensation of freefall, trying to claw back up towards the sun.

"I'm not injured." You supply, careful to keep your voice composed, even, to not give a single indication of the doubt you harbor inside yourself. You know this routine. You’ve had to pass psych evaluations before. To stay composed, to not let the cracks inside you show, to not allow them a single modicum of doubt is how you’ll survive, how you’ve always survived, how you’ll continue to survive even as something inside you howls into the gale in a desperate bid for mercy.

He only shrugs. "I'm not talking about your injury." He tells you plainly. "I'm talking about the reason why you're here."

Your hands are shaking. He can see it. "I'm here because I was caught trying to hide an injury from my CO." You force yourself to say carefully, measuring your words.

"Why were you hiding it?" He presses, and you feel like you’ve been caught in wolf jaws, a sudden snap of teeth against your flesh. It makes panic flare inside you like a sunburst, and you try vainly to push it down as you always have, deep into those dark tidewaters that beckon to you. You’ll never rise out of it if you fall, you know that. You’ll sink, sink further still, weighed down by the burden of your failures, unable to see the sky you’ve fought so hard to reach.

“I was hiding it because I didn’t want them to see something that was my fault, something I could have taken care of myself.” You reply evenly, but it’s too late. He sees you, he sees you like they all do, is slowly peeling away the hardened shell of you to see the rotten interior you’re trying so desperately to hide.

“If you could have taken care of it yourself you wouldn’t be here.” He states, and you flinch. His voice has taken on a flinty sharpness, seizing upon your weaknesses and sending you into a doomed tailspin ever downwards.

“You needed help from your teammates, but you didn’t want to accept it because you wanted to prove you could do it on your own, even though it nearly cost you your life.”

“No-“ You try vainly, feeling your muscles tighten, begin to tremble. Caught in a sniper’s scope of your own design. It’s too late, you didn’t realize it was your own finger on the trigger.

“You did it because you don’t think you are enough despite them telling you so. They’ve already accepted you, and yet it isn’t enough, so you’re still trying to prove yourself even now, and in doing so only hurting yourself further.”

“T-that’s not-“ You can’t breathe. The wind has stolen the oxygen from your lungs. You can’t see the sky.

He pauses, looks at you. You’re shaking, ramrod straight in your chair, eyes wide and unseeing of anything except your inevitable descent. You can’t stop it, and the mere thought of the cataclysmic collision to come drops the floor out from under you, makes the walls close in, shifts the axis of the world so you no longer know where you are.

In the midst of it, you see them. It’s in the vision of the four men who have accepted you as one of their own that the man before you murmurs a final, devastating mystery you refuse to speak the heart of.

"Fix, who hurt you to make you this way?"

You’re on your feet before you can think twice about it, heart hammering and eyes unseeing. Adrenaline slinks sharply through your veins, alighting your nerve endings with a panic you forgot you knew how to feel. Your jacket is in your hand and you turn, breathing heavily and all but stumbling from the office before he can stop you.

He calls for you, but it’s lost to the gale.

“I see you. Just you.”

You can’t be seen. You can’t stand the feeling of being flayed open, of having your ribcage cracked just so someone can dig their hands into the blooming bouquet of chlorosis in which lays your still tender heart. To see you is to peer inside while you’re helpless, prone, unable to stop the discovery of the putrid thing that’s been festering inside of you for years. A hate so dark and deep it spans the globe in a watery grave. Your ocean is filled with misery, a tempest of failure you’ve tried desperately to avoid and yet seem to plummet through the clouds towards as the debris of your wax wings hangs suspended in the air around you.

They’re going to see. They’re all going to see, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

They’re going to see how much you hate yourself.

You stagger from the office and out of the building and into the eye of the hurricane. It’s mindless, the way your feet carry you, searching aimlessly for a destination you don’t know. You think somehow if you walk far enough you’ll arrive back to them, and manage to convince them through trembling shoulders and half-hearted smiles that you aren’t broken, that you can stay, that they don’t need to leave you behind yet.

Through the streets, even as the lampposts flicker on and the afternoon rush hour fades into a low hum of passing cars. People seem to dodge you, and even they seem to see the haunted look in your eyes, the way you’re walking to the end of the earth as if it will save you.

Eventually you find yourself amongst a small throng of people, and as you try to weave through them you instead find yourself pulled by the current. They tug you in the direction of somewhere inside, of music and the smell of cigarettes and clinking glasses. It feels familiar, like the pubs off-base you used to frequent with them, and yet it’s not there, too different. If you close your eyes, however, you think maybe you’re back there, that you’ll be beckoned over to the corner booth that seems to be exclusively for you and them.

Instead you find yourself perched on a bar, rasping your order for a heavy scotch that you finish under the eyes of the bartender before you order another just as quickly. It’s on your third that you force yourself to slow, see the perfectly cut ice cubes swirl amidst a cloud of amber as your senses fuzz to a distant din.

When was the last time you went drinking with them? It was before the campaign to Latin America, perhaps during that period of blissful late September in the Staffordshire countryside. You can still remember the taste of your outraged laughter when Soap hauled you into the air while sparring, with brawny arms fringed with coarse hair that tickled against your skin. You’d scuffled with him in the dirt, had felt the golden glow of camaraderie as Gaz and Price watched on with broad grins.

Then Ghost, who had lingered in the shade of the building you four were beside, had stared into your soul in that cursed way where you almost wanted him to see. Like a dark sorcerer, it’s always been Ghost who has been able to peer past your gaze and discern the things inside you desperately try to conceal. Yet he’s never once said anything on it, has simply observed in silence, as if waiting for you to stop yourself as you descend into the unfathomable depths.

You’re still thinking of him when there’s a figure out of the corner of your eyes that draws your attention. He saunters over towards the bar, catches your eyes and smiles but sits with a barstool between you both. Watching, waiting, curious.

He’s tall. Brown haired, a smattering of freckles across his nose that pinches just a bit when he smiles at your blatant staring. His hair is short at the sides, longer and curly on top in a way that drapes across his forehead. He looks like he’s come from work, a blue collared shirt tucked neatly into jeans, nice shoes perching on the rail of the barstool.

He has brown eyes. Almost rust colored. Almost like him.

He looks at you, and you realize he doesn’t see. He doesn’t see who you are, sees instead the pretty, lonely girl at the bar on her third scotch that’s quickly becoming watered down. He doesn’t see you the way Ghost does.

You smile then, tilt your head at him a little coyly, blinking slowly like a cat. Come closer.

He does. He’s drawn in, scoots over one seat and introduces himself as James. You almost tell him your call sign, and then you almost tell him your real name, before settling at last on an alias that makes him raise his eyebrows in consideration.

“It suits you.” He says, and you smile at that, at the idea that somehow you’re so invisible to him, that he has no idea of who you really are. He doesn’t know the things you’ve done, the people you’ve killed, the person you’re hiding inside. It’s a heady rush of power that leaves you grinning, drunk on scotch and this strange covertness you drape yourself in.

“So, what do you do?” He asks in classic D.C. fashion, in a city full of social climbers with keen eyes looking for allies.

“I work for the government.” You tell him, and fail to supply which secretive three letter agency that entails.

“…Doing what?” He inquires as you sip at watered down scotch. You shoot him a sly grin, a flutter of eyelashes that makes his eyes widen imperceptibly.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

He laughs at that, thinking it’s some sort of joke when it’s not, and presses no further.

He tells you he’s a political consultant, one of those sharply dressed men who wander Washington in search of esteemed politicians they can sell their services to. You wonder if he knows your brother, of the same breed of self-proclaimed big thinkers self-righteously destined for greatness. Maybe there’s a cabinet position in his distant future. You’re not sure if you’ll live to see it should you continue to be a soldier.

You offer fleeting conversation, but mostly you just listen to James regale you of his accolades, more than happy to ramble your ear off. He orders you a fourth scotch which you barely touch, not fond of the idea of being more inebriated than you already are. You watch him with a smile summoned only by the pleasant haze of liquor. It seems to encourage him. When he tells you a joke you laugh only because you know you should, watch the brightness of his eyes dance under the dim lights of the bar.

“You’re very mysterious.” He tells you, leaning closer.

“I’ve been told I’m very good at that.” You reply enigmatically.

He seems entranced by that, somehow, finds the vague apparition of you riveting. You relish it, the way he doesn’t really see you, in the way you want to be seen. Mystic, confident, beautiful, a thing to be lusted after and desired even though he knows he’ll never unravel the secrets inside you.

“I actually don’t live far from here.” James tells you a low, conspiratorial whisper, and you tilt your head in consideration. You shouldn’t. You’re tipsy and off balance, internally reeling from the things you can’t control. Yet the thought of not being alone, of forgetting everything just for an evening, is too tempting to refuse.

“Alone?” You ask silkily, and James’ eyes flick down to your lips before they dart back up to your piercing gaze.

“Yes.” He whispers breathlessly, caught in your spell. His hand bridges the gap between you, spreads across your thigh in a way that sends a sudden current of doubt through you. It burns brightly in the back of your thoughts, the way this suddenly seems to feel wrong. You push it down and instead force a little shiver at the touch, grinning coyly at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Want me to buy you dinner first?” He asks, and it’s strangely boyish, that. Almost endearing.

“I think scotch counts.” You supply, quick to imply your readiness to leave, to get on with this before you have second thoughts.

James seems to catch your meaning, and escorts you from the bar after you settle your tabs, a hand on the small of your back in a gesture that makes your shoulders tighten uncomfortably. It doesn’t take long to hail a taxi, and soon you’re in the back of a dark car with him leaning over towards you. You only half return his kiss when he offers it, feigning a pleased little noise that seems to encourage him as his tongue slips clumsily against yours.

“You like that?” He husks, and you don’t bother to answer, hand sliding up to his shoulder in a loose grip. He tastes like the bitter bite of tequila, tinted with lime, and again your mind floats back to Venezuela and the half open bottles of home brew that shattered under bullet fire. You remember the smell of the spider infested hideout in the jungle, of the thick humidity that blanketed over your senses like a sheen of warm sweat under the weight of your tactical gear.

You remember the trap door, the bullet lodged against your ribs, not being able to breathe, the fear on Gaz and Price’s face, the skeletal gloves that offered you onto the med-evac like handing a lamb to the altar.

You remember him. You remember his voice.

"You're only seeing me."

You pull back like you've been burned, nearly bite his lips in the process, feeling your eyes widen in horror as the truth of what you're doing pierces through you. This is wrong. It’s all terribly wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be drowning yourself like you’ve already fallen from the heavens.

“Stop the car.” You rasp hoarsely, your hand still on his collar in a vice-like grip, trying to anchor yourself futilely.

James looks at you, the shock on his face apparent for just a moment as the car passes under a streetlamp.

“Wait- what’s wrong?” He asks, caught off guard, and you don’t answer, mind running too fast, circling down into a tailspin. It’s too much, you’re drowning, you’re gasping-

“I can’t.” You try, voice cracking, unable to clarify any more. “I-I have to get home.”

James’ face flickers between confusion and disappointment. Yet his voice is gentle as he asks: “Are you okay? Was it something I did?”

You shake your head. No, no it wasn’t him. It’s you, it’s always been you. The taxi driver pulls over to the curb, and again James tries to press for answers you don’t have.

"I’m sorry, I can't do this." You tell him hurriedly as the taxi comes to a halt, gathering your jacket and things and swiftly reaching for the door.

“Wait-“ He tries, grabbing your wrist, and you’re ready to snarl at him like a defensive animal when you see the concern in his eyes. There’s a pause as he regards you, seems at last to see you for what you are.

“Take the taxi.” He tells you softly. “I’ll catch another one. Just…get home safe.”

You swallow, still tasting scotch in your mouth.

“Thank you.” You whisper, unsure of what else to say.

James nods, releases you, reaches for his door. He’s halfway out of the taxi when he turns back to you.

“Can I have your number?” He asks in a last-ditch attempt, and when you shake your head he looks down at his fancy business shoes and closes the door.

There’s silence for a few minutes before you murmur Laswell’s address to the taxi driver, who gives you a look of pity before he pulls away into the night.

The glow of streetlamps pass above. You somehow find it in yourself not to cry.

It’s shortly before 2am that the taxi pulls up on the quiet street where Laswell lives. The lights in the house are dark. You wonder if either of them called you when you weren’t home for dinner. Your phone is still turned off in your pocket, the messages unread.

You quietly thank the taxi driver, sidle up the steps and unlock the door as quietly as you can. The house is silent, and you’re sure both women are in bed as you turn towards the stairs-

“Fix.”

You flinch hard, not expecting to be caught, feeling so much like a teenager sneaking back in after breaking curfew. It would be comical if it weren’t for the even, passive inflection of Kate’s voice that sounds like disapproval.

You turn towards the sound, notice for the first time that the kitchen light is on over the barstools. Gently, you pad over to the doorway, and find Kate sitting upon one of them. Her hair is tied back, she’s wearing comfortable night clothes, and the sight itself is so strangely at war with the common image you recognize from her. Buttoned shirts and fitted slacks, utilitarian jackets and boots to match those of the team she oversees. There’s a glass of water beside her hand, and as you glance at the stool across from her you see an empty one just for you.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugs at your questioning gaze, and you both know it’s a lie you won’t call her on. “Come sit.”

You shouldn’t. You should go to bed, wake up in the morning and pretend this evening never happened, try to salvage the image of the person you try to be.

Yet Laswell’s gaze is not to be questioned, and you slide into the seat with averted eyes even as she pours you a glass. You fidget uncomfortably, trying to summon a myriad of explanations to excuse your midnight arrival. You wait for Kate to begin questioning you, to interrogate you as to your movements, but instead she stares passively down into her own glass, twirling the water for a few moments before speaking.

“They ask about you.”

You blink, excuses abruptly forgotten as your eyes dart up towards her. “What?”

“The boys, they ask about you.” She repeats quietly. “Every time I talk to them, they ask how you’re doing. They want to know how you’re doing.”

You’re stunned into silence, and when you don’t speak, Kate continues. “I tell them what I can, but I tell them they should really be asking you themselves.”

You frown, eyes softening with dismay. It’s been weeks since you left, and you’ve not heard a single message from them. You check every day, have nearly deleted your conversations with them in a mixture of despair and heartache. It weighs heavy inside you, their absence, and you yourself can’t find the courage to talk to them first, thinking perhaps they’d only reject you if you did.

“They…haven’t talked to me.” You whisper faintly, chest achingly hollow.

Kate meets your eyes then. The normal flinty sharpness of her gaze has softened into a soft, dove-grey stare. There’s sadness there, a touch of regret, and it festers in your still healing wound.

“I know.” She replies, and her shoulders drop. The gesture has a murmur of apprehension bubble inside you, muscles stiffening as you mentally bastion yourself against whatever terrible news she’s about to deliver. “I talked to Price today. I asked him why they haven’t reached out.”

They’re going to leave me. You think in growing panic, air growing short in your chest as Kate frowns into her glass. This is it. She’s telling me I’m off the taskforce.

“He said…he didn’t know if he had the right, after what happened.”

The wind changes direction once again. You look at Kate, stare at her in clear confusion. For once it’s her who avoids your gaze- Kate, the prophet, the soothsayer of your team, the one who divines the wind now refuses to look at you, and her face speaks of guilt.

“We failed you, Fix.” She whispers, voice faint. It’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard.

“We all saw how you were struggling, we saw that you were fighting something we couldn’t see. We wanted to help, but you were so determined to do things on your own that we didn’t see how much it was hurting you.”

Kate sounds lost. She’s staring at a map she can’t conjure, trying to trace the paths between her grief and your own distant pain, feeling it flare inside her in turn. You’re unsteadied by it, by this sudden exposed vulnerability of a woman so unshakeable in her foundations you’ve stared at her with stars in your eyes since the moment you’d met.

“We should have been here for you, Fix. You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself.” She confesses at last, voice fragile in a way that you can’t understand. “I’m sorry.”

“No one fights alone.”

His words, from that time. When he has clasped you to him and prevented you from falling into frost. You’d clung to him in your rawness, burrowing into his warmth under the guise of hypothermia. He was doing it to keep you alive, or so you thought. An obligation as your comrade, as your superior to ensure you didn’t die. Now you see it was so much more than that.

He did it because he cared.

He cares. They all do. In your grief it wasn’t clear before, but now you feel the dark clouds you descend through part way to allow the glimmer of sunlight to show through. You grasp at it blindly, remember the sounds of their laughter, their smiles, the firm touches and playful jabs that fill the emptiness of your chest in which the dark wind howls. You’d felt it filled, in that moment where you’d burrowed yourself into Ghost’s chest, wondering if perhaps it was empty too. You’d fallen asleep in his embrace and had remembered at the edge of deliquium that all you’d ever wanted in your whole life was to just be held.

"Kate,” You breathe at last in a rapid whoosh of air that changes the headwind that howls in the emptiness inside you. “…there's something I need to tell you."

Kate sits before you silently, expectantly, and you don’t lift your head to look at her. Your hands rest on the glass tumbler, the warming ice water inside.

“My name…isn’t my real name.” You confess quietly, and despite how small your voice is it feels loud- louder than gunfire, than grenades, explosions, RPGs. “I changed it.”

Your hands grip tighter to the glass, brow scrunching in a distant ache as you go on. “I changed it because I didn’t want people to know who I was, who my family was. I didn’t want to bring them with me.”

A pause.

“…but it seems like they came with me anyways.”

You look up then, slowly, into the knotted brow and thinly pressed lips of Laswell. Her eyes are soft, sad in a way that feels foreign and yet so welcome.

“My father. He’s a senator. He has been ever since I was in high school. He’s on the Armed Services committee. You might have even met him.” You don’t say his name, still afraid to even admit that small truth- the fact that you once called that man father.

Laswell is quiet for a long time, as if processing the information you’ve given her. She seems to be weighing it heavily inside her, finding the thing that needs to be said. Her fingers tap every few beats against her glass before she finally speaks.

“I knew.” She sighs at last.

You blink, look up at her once more, confusion coloring your eyes. She returns your stare, a little guilty, before she elaborates.

"I knew, Fix.” She admits and reaches for the pitcher to refill her glass and yours. “I had a feeling. I've met the senator before, I remember faces. The first time I met you, it rang a bell. He said something about having a daughter in the armed forces. You...look similar."

You wince at that, a small gesture of vague displeasure that you can’t rid yourself of his resemblance. Yet then you look back to Kate, to her steely grey eyes watching you, waiting for you to speak. You’re not entirely surprised she knew. Laswell’s intelligence background means she likely knows more about you than you know about yourself at times. It’s her job to know. Yet it doesn’t explain…

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask in scarcely a whisper, trying to contain the small feeling of hurt inside you.

At this, the guilt in Kate’s expression deepens. "Maybe I should have.” She offers regretfully. “-but you never once mentioned your family and when I looked up your file, saw you had changed your name...it didn't take much to connect the dots. I had my suspicions about you...becoming estranged from them. It's no use to bleed a healing wound."

"A wound." You laugh mirthlessly. "Yeah, seems like I've been getting plenty of those recently."

Your side aches.

"Fix." Kate’s hand stretches between you two, comes to rest over your tightly webbed fingers with a featherlight touch that settles into something firm. "Tell me what happened."

It’s not a demand. It’s a request, almost a plea on her part, wanting desperately for you to reach out in turn, grasp her hand as you fall. You instinctively want to pull back, to shield yourself from her keen eyed stare, but after today, after tonight, after a lifetime of wearing yourself down to brittle bone to hide who you are…you’re tired.

So you unclasp your palms, turn them up so her hand settles in them, keeps you there so you don’t descend further.

"I don't even know where to start.” You confess, and your voice suddenly sounds so much younger than who you are now, like the child inside your soul has finally reached you in your freefall. “I was the youngest daughter, an accident my dad told me once. The extra."

You breathe out a shuddering exhale, as if releasing the ache that howls in the hollow of your chest.

"He always hated me. I'll never know why. Maybe it's because I'm a girl. Maybe it's because I was a tomboy, or hated dresses, or that didn't fit the mold of being the perfect obedient little doll he wanted me to be for the cameras…” You pause, feel a splinter of pain flare at the center of your healed bullet wound. “Maybe it's because I...was too much like him."

"I was always second best. The wrong child."

"He loved my brother, still does. Sees him as his successor. Wants him to run for office.” You pause with another humorless little laugh. “Hell, he might even be in office right now. I haven’t exactly been in contact with them.”

Yet then you swallow, your face pinching in dismay once more. “All my father ever needed of me, all he wanted was for me to be like my mom. Docile, subservient, cowed, perfectly poised even when he cursed her for having me."

White, pristine white, the color of lace and freshly pressed dinner napkins. The color of the pearls resting against your mother's throat. When she swallows your eyes dart up to her face. She's looking past the gauzy pale curtains of the banquet hall, outside to the hazy, dimming streetlights beyond. Her eyes are distant, sad.

"I don't think...abuse is the right term.” You go on, and your voice wobbles now, your resilience fading as the memories pile in. Polished wood floors, carefully maintained picturesque bedrooms, furniture you weren’t allowed to sit on, the mahogany desk in your father’s office. “I was provided for, some would say I was spoiled. Part of why I changed my name was I didn't want anyone to figure out they were shipping out with the spoiled rich girl from Chevy Chase."

You pause then, feeling the silence of the kitchen press down on you. You remember the loneliness of your first assignment of distancing yourself from your squad, of trying to conceal yourself and aching for it. You’d whittled yourself down to your marrow, forcing down every ounce of hurt and pain because you had to, because you only ever had yourself. If you reached out, if you asked them for aid, if they saw…

“I didn’t want them to see.” You whisper, barely audible, wide eyes staring in horror at the dark churning ocean below. “I didn’t want them to see what he made me.”

It’s silent then, in the aftermath of what you’ve spoken. The truth of it hangs in the silence between you both. Like the lingering air after a typhoon, the atmosphere presses heavily on your shoulders, threatens to weigh you down so much that it loosens your grip from Laswell’s hand.

She only clings closer.

"Fix.” She says, and her voice is suddenly so soft, aching with emotion. “What you went through was abuse. It wasn't physical unless you haven't shared something with me-“

"No.” You interject. “No he never- he never did anything like that, I swear. Not even to my mom. I think...I think he knew how much it could hurt his career- his...reputation."

"All he did was just..."

"He told me I was worthless, Kate.” You whisper, and your throat seizes with a sob so sudden and fierce it threatens to shatter you at the seams. “He said that I was a waste of space, and no matter how I tried to get good grades or honors or be good at athletics or make friends or anything. It didn't matter. That even if I tried to tell anyone what he said to me that they wouldn’t care because I was useless."

Salty, briny tears flood your eyes. The words that have haunted you this entire time, the words you’ve tried so desperately to fight against, to prove aren’t true are the ones that he told you. That your purpose of being alive was futile, that your mere presence was a burden.

"I...I was never good enough Laswell.” You choke out, shoulders heaving with the effort to contain your sobs. “I-I'm not sure I'll ever be good enough."

Kate moves then, and it’s so quick that you think for a moment she’s letting you go. Instead, Kate stands from her chair and comes over to your side, uses her hands to press you against her in an embrace so fierce it forces the scarcely contain sob from your throat.

"You are enough, Fix.” She tells you, her voice suddenly sharp, severe in a way that isn’t meant for you. “You've always been enough. I wouldn't have chosen you otherwise. I wouldn't have given you to them if I didn't think you were enough. Understand?"

You shudder, another hiccupping sob you can’t contain bubbles up your throat. Your hands raise gently to her, afraid that if you touch her further maybe she’ll pull away.

"Laswell...I..." You try, absent of words. She seems to understand.

"If I could go back and change it, I would.” She tells you, and holds you tighter, arms wrapped around you protectively as if they can provide you shelter, as if she can cure you from the sins of the past. “You didn't deserve what happened to you, Fix, and you don't deserve to feel this way about yourself with all you've accomplished."

Yes, the things you’ve done. Your medic skills, your military training, the languages you’ve learned, the missions you’ve fought in, all of them in a desperate bid to prove a better version of yourself than you truly are.

"B-but I failed, Kate.” You sob, chest finally loosing itself of all the ache there as you cry freely. “I got myself injured and then nearly killed myself trying to push too hard, and I-" Your voice chokes off as another sob wracks your shoulders.

Laswell pulls back from you then, holds you at arm’s length so she can peer past your watery eyes. Her hands clench on your shoulders, and you see she might be crying too, eyes shining with unshed emotion.

"What matters now is that you're here.” She declares, voice hoarse with choked tears. “You have a family, Fix. With us. You never have to speak to your father or mother or brother ever again if you don't want to. We will always be here. No amount of failure on your part will ever change that."

You still yourself, look at Laswell like you want to believe her, and you do. Laswell would never lie to you unless it was to keep you safe, and this…this…

Your quivering inhale releases as a chest-cracking sob, and then another, and as you raise your hands to try and scrub away the tears from your eyes you finally let go. You allow yourself to cry, like you’ve wanted to for so many years, like the way you thought you’ve forgotten. You cry like the child you still are inside, the little girl looking up at a world too large for her and wondering how she’ll ever grow to fit it. It spins dizzyingly underneath you, an abstract of blue and green where you descend through white clouds. Sunshine warms your skin, and the air whooshing past your ears stills into a gentle, cradling breeze.

You stop falling.

Tag List: (Reblog this post to be added to future fics from this series! If you'd like to be removed please DM me!)

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#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #mw2 #cod mw22 #Simon ghost riley x oc #reader insert #cod x reader #fic: shadow and bone #oc: fix

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astrojulia · 1 year

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Asteroid Hygeia (10): Understanding Its Signs, Houses, and Planetary Aspects

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₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ About the Asteroid: Hygeia is the fourth largest asteroid. It was named after the Greek goddess of health, and because she is the personification of health, cleanliness, and sanitation, asteroid 10 Hygeia may be related to these characteristics in astrology. It talks about sanitation and prevention, in the current studies of astrology, an art that doesn't stop, it is currently associated with how a person prevents their health in a physical, emotional and mental way, or at least, as it should.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sources and inspirations:Sadly, it's not because I care about my health that I'm interested in this asteroid LOL. However, there is another interesting reason for me to make this type of post. Asteroids, in general, are not used much in birth chart reading, and that's okay. In my view, your birth chart is like a cake, and asteroids are just toppings. My reason for looking into asteroids is due to their history. The first four asteroids found were Ceres, Vesta, Pallas, and Juno, all women. Before their discovery, the vision of women was limited to either daughter/mother (Moon) or wife/harlot (Venus). Women were seen as nothing more than that. Even though it didn't change much after the discovery, a new perspective on what a woman can be opened up, and that's why I write about it. There’s not much sources about asteroids, Hygeia is one in the middle ground, there's more than others but it's not very detailed. My sources where this and this.Also, the image template in from minikyuns on deviantart.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Asteroid Hygeia Rx: It can indicate people who need more time to recover from physical and mental illnesses. It also shows people who reflect a lot on their health and well-being and look for alternative methods of care. In a more spiritual context, it indicates people who worked with health in past lives.

Asteroid Hygeia in Signs

✧. ┊Aries: In Aries, Hygeia governs your inclination to start fitness programs and live a healthy lifestyle. You may become impatient when recovering from illnesses, but -your declining health may be a sign that you need to slow down. You have little tolerance for sickness, which makes you reluctant to discuss it and even dislike a sneeze. As a result, you may not give yourself enough time to recover. However, a significant event may prompt you to take a break and prioritize your healing. Getting sick is usually an indication that you need to take a step back and relax. Overall, you strive to maintain a healthy lifestyle and enjoy rigorous exercise.

✧. ┊Taurus:With Hygeia in Taurus, you prioritize your comfort and well-being in everyday life. However, neglecting other areas of your life such as love or career could lead to illness. Your stubbornness and obstinacy can either aid or hinder your health depending on your willingness to make changes. Your health is closely tied to your sense of contentment and satisfaction, so if you're unhappy with your life, it's important to adjust your routine. Your diet may be a challenge due to overeating, drinking, and other unhealthy habits. Nonetheless, this trait also demonstrates your resilience and strength, which typically correlates with a robust immune system and the ability to bounce back from illnesses.

✧. ┊Gemini: With Hygeia in Gemini, you have a keen interest in learning about health, particularly the connections between mental and physical well-being. You may have had personal experiences with mental health that have led you to become something of a self-help expert. You are skilled at multitasking and can talk and move simultaneously, making you adept at gathering information on various health topics. Your mental agility enables you to recognize the importance of the mind-body connection, which keeps you from becoming complacent about your physical health. In short, you are constantly striving to maintain a healthy balance between your body and mind.

✧. ┊Cancer: With Hygeia in Cancer, your health is closely tied to your living environment. Any disruptions or instability at home can cause health problems for you. You tend to worry about the health and well-being of not only your family and friends but also others around you, including pets. Your caring and empathetic nature means that your health is intimately linked to the care you give to others. When faced with challenges at home or work, you may experience mental and physical health issues. On the positive side, you have a natural knack for understanding nutritional requirements and enjoy creating healthy snacks and meals for others.

✧. ┊Leo: With Hygeia in Leo, you take pride in your health and are generally content with your well-being. You may have a keen interest in physical exercise and other therapeutic activities like reading or painting, and enjoy taking long naps. When you're feeling unwell, you tend to put on a brave face and project an "I'm fine" image to others, even if you're not truly satisfied with your condition. However, you may fall ill when you don't receive what you feel you deserve, such as not achieving your desired weight loss or not being paid what you think you're worth. You have a high standard for your health and don't tolerate anything less than optimal.

✧. ┊Virgo: With Hygeia in Virgo, your health holds a crucial place in your life. Your well-being suffers when your daily routine becomes disorderly, so it's essential to recognize the connection between your mind and body and establish a healthy routine. You have a deep understanding of the interplay between your mind, body, and spirit, and you prioritize maintaining a balanced diet, regular exercise, and good hygiene. You have a strong need for personal cleanliness and an orderly environment, which helps you feel calm and centered. If you neglect your self-imposed health plans, you tend to feel unwell and understand that it can have long-term consequences.

✧. ┊Libra: With Hygeia in Libra, achieving balance in your life is crucial to maintaining good health. You understand the interplay between different aspects of your life, and how an imbalance can lead to health issues. You also see a connection between health and beauty, recognizing the benefits of good health, hygiene, and physical appearance. You enjoy sharing your ideas about what you find attractive and how it relates to overall health and well-being, and may become frustrated if your advice is not taken seriously by others.

✧. ┊Scorpio: With Hygeia in Scorpio, you may experience cycles of health and illness throughout your life. It's important to recognize the interplay between your mind and your physical well-being, particularly with regards to sexual health. Your deep interest in the connections between the psyche and the body fuels your fascination with establishing "truth connections" and achieving a sense of order and completeness in your life. Your health may be influenced by cyclical energy patterns, with sexual health and fertility being areas of particular importance.

✧. ┊Sagittarius: With Hygeia in Sagittarius you have a broad perspective on health and prefers to see how it fits into the big picture. As a result, they may research health issues for specific groups and often become someone with expertise in the medical or health fields who teaches in classes, courses, or lectures. Hygeia Sagittarius is a visionary in this field and must ensure that their knowledge of health is founded on truth and practicality.

✧. ┊Capricorn: Hygeia in Capricorn is highly knowledgeable about health issues and understands the importance of following proper procedures to maintain good health. They eventually become a health expert, driven by a keen interest in learning more about both personal and global health challenges. Hygeia in Capricorn is willing to put in long hours of rigorous study and serious research to find solutions to these challenges. Their dedication to their work is matched only by their unwavering commitment to improving the health and well-being of others.

✧. ┊Aquarius: Hygeia in Aquarius is deeply concerned about the health of the planet and stays up-to-date with the latest developments in health, medicine, and ecology. On a personal level, they enjoy staying fit and often participate in sports and fitness clubs with their friends. They have a keen interest in trying out fresh, innovative health practices and sharing them with others. Hygeia in Aquarius is also intrigued by unconventional treatments and alternative forms of healing. They tend to make acquaintances in situations involving health, treatment, and care, and enjoy networking with like-minded individuals who share their passion for improving the health and well-being of others.

✧. ┊Pisces: Hygeia in Pisces is deeply concerned about the spiritual wellness of the world. They believe in the connection between physical and spiritual health and are eager to share their thoughts and insights with others. Hygeia in Pisces has a strong sense of compassion and is willing to put themselves in the service of others, even if it means spending time at the hospital during bouts of illness. In a broader sense, Hygeia in Pisces has the potential to become a global leader with a mission to protect natural and spiritual resources. Their deep empathy and intuitive understanding of the interconnectedness of all things make them uniquely suited to this role. Whether through advocacy work, research, or other endeavors, Hygeia in Pisces is committed to promoting the health and well-being of individuals, communities, and the planet as a whole.

Asteroid Hygeia in Houses

✧. ┊1st house: With Asteroid Hygeia in your 1st house, your focus on your health is always at the forefront of your mind. You're constantly aware of how you're feeling on a daily basis, and prioritize taking care of yourself. It's important for you to be open to new and innovative strategies to improve your overall health and well-being. By staying proactive and mindful of your physical and emotional health, you can maintain a positive and balanced outlook on life.

✧. ┊2nd house: With Asteroid Hygeia in your 2nd house, you have a deep desire to feel good about yourself and your overall health is often tied to your sense of self-esteem. You may find yourself overly focused on presenting yourself as well-groomed and put-together, and could become preoccupied with promoting this image to others. It's important to remember that true self-worth comes from within, and taking care of yourself holistically, both physically and emotionally, is key to feeling good about yourself. By nurturing a healthy sense of self and prioritizing your well-being, you'll naturally radiate confidence and positivity.

✧. ┊3rd house: With Asteroid Hygeia in your 3rd house, you may find that environmental stress can have negative physical effects on your well-being. Your nerves are more sensitive to external stresses, making your mental health a crucial aspect of your overall existence. It's important to prioritize self-care and take steps to manage stress, such as meditation or therapy, to maintain a sense of balance and inner peace. By nurturing your mental and emotional health, you'll be better equipped to handle the ups and downs of life and stay resilient in the face of challenges.

✧. ┊4th house: With Asteroid Hygeia in your 4th house, your early upbringing and conditioning can have a significant impact on your health and well-being as an adult. Negative conditioning or unresolved emotional issues from childhood can manifest as physical or mental health problems later in life. It's important to work through any past traumas or emotional baggage to promote healing and maintain a sense of balance in your life. By taking the time to address any pent-up difficulties, you can prevent them from impacting your health in the long term and create a healthier and happier future for yourself.

✧. ┊5th house: With Asteroid Hygeia in your 5th house, self-acceptance is crucial for your overall health and well-being. If you don't address your emotional needs and desires adequately, a preoccupation with finding love and validation from others could lead to negative health consequences. It's important to prioritize self-care and to cultivate a strong sense of self-worth that doesn't rely on external validation or the approval of others. By focusing on your own happiness and well-being, you'll be better equipped to form healthy relationships and create a fulfilling life for yourself. Remember, good health starts from within!

✧. ┊6th house: With Hygeia in your 6th house, you may be particularly focused on your health and well-being, and may struggle with issues related to self-esteem based on your level of productivity in this area. You may need to follow a strict diet or exercise regimen to maintain good health, and it's important to take care of yourself both physically and emotionally. However, it's also important to remember that self-worth isn't solely tied to productivity or achievement, and it's okay to give yourself grace and compassion when it comes to your health journey. By finding a balance between taking care of your physical health and prioritizing your emotional well-being, you'll be better equipped to maintain a healthy and happy lifestyle for the long term.

✧. ┊7th house: With Hygeia in your 7th house, your mental and emotional well-being is closely tied to your relationships with others. You may struggle with issues related to self-identification and self-esteem, and may rely too heavily on external validation or the approval of others. It's important to prioritize your own needs and desires, and to cultivate a strong sense of self-worth that isn't dependent on the opinions or actions of others. Psychology and therapy can be helpful tools for exploring these issues and developing healthy coping mechanisms. By prioritizing your mental and emotional health and working to develop a strong sense of self, you'll be better equipped to form healthy and fulfilling relationships with others.

✧. ┊8th house: With Hygeia in your 8th house, you may have a deep fascination with health and wellness, and may be drawn to researching health issues in order to uncover hidden or underlying factors. You may also have an interest in topics related to death and the afterlife. It's important to approach your health journey with a balance of scientific and holistic principles, taking into account both physical and emotional factors. Collaborating with healthcare professionals or seeking out alternative healing practices can be beneficial for achieving optimal health and well-being. By staying curious and open-minded, you'll be better equipped to explore and understand the complexities of health and wellness.

✧. ┊9th house: With Hygeia in your 9th house, your belief in a higher power or higher consciousness may have a positive impact on your overall health and well-being. You may feel a strong sense of faith or spiritual connection that supports your physical and emotional health. This can help you to stay positive and resilient in the face of health challenges, and may also inspire you to explore alternative healing practices or seek out holistic approaches to wellness. However, it's important to remember that even with a strong belief system, it's still important to take care of your physical body and prioritize self-care. By staying attuned to both your spiritual and physical needs, you'll be better equipped to maintain balance and vitality in all areas of your life.

✧. ┊10th house: With Hygeia in your 10th house, your health may be closely tied to social expectations and the pressure to succeed or achieve recognition. You may have a strong drive to succeed in your career or public life, which can lead to stress and a tendency to prioritize work over self-care. When faced with challenging circumstances, you may struggle to let go of the need to control everything and find it difficult to relax. It's important to cultivate a healthy work-life balance and prioritize self-care, even amidst the demands of your career or public image. Taking breaks, setting boundaries, and seeking support from loved ones can help you to maintain your physical and emotional health. Remember that your worth isn't defined solely by your achievements, and that taking care of yourself is a vital component of long-term success and fulfillment.

✧. ┊11th house: With Hygeia in your 11th house, you may be less prone to health difficulties overall. However, your health may be impacted by tension or disappointment when your personal aspirations and desires are not met. It's important to prioritize self-care and manage stress in order to maintain your physical and emotional well-being. Additionally, cultivating positive social connections and a sense of community can have a beneficial impact on your health. By surrounding yourself with supportive and like-minded individuals, you may feel more motivated to prioritize your health and well-being. Remember that your health is a valuable asset and that investing in self-care and positive social connections can pay dividends in all areas of your life.

✧. ┊12th house: With Hygeia in your 12th house, you may be highly concerned about your health, and may experience psychological or psychic manifestations related to your well-being. It's important to pay attention to both your physical and emotional health, and to address any buried feelings or subconscious patterns that may be impacting your well-being. Repressed emotions or unresolved issues may manifest as physical symptoms or health problems, so it's important to prioritize self-awareness and seek support if needed. Practices such as meditation, therapy, or journaling may be helpful in uncovering and processing any underlying emotional or psychological factors that may be impacting your health. Remember that taking care of yourself holistically can lead to greater overall well-being and a sense of peace and balance in your life.

Asteroid Hygeia in Aspects Overview

✧. ┊Conjunction: can manifest as a strong focus on health and wellness, or an increased sensitivity to health issues and the need for self-care. The planet that is conjunct with Hygeia can also influence the expression of health and wellness in the individual.

✧. ┊Opposition or Square: can manifest as health issues that stem from stress or emotional turmoil, or a struggle to balance self-care with other responsibilities. The planet that is in opposition to Hygeia can also represent an area of life where the individual experiences challenges related to health and wellness.

✧. ┊Trine or Sextile: can manifest as an easy ability to maintain good health and wellness, or a natural inclination to prioritize self-care and well-being. The planet that is in trine to Hygeia can also represent an area of life where the individual experiences ease and support related to health and wellness.

Asteroid Hygeia in Aspecting the Planets

✧. ┊Sun: it indicates a strong focus on health and well-being, and a tendency to prioritize self-care. The Sun represents the individual's core identity and sense of self, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a deep connection between one's sense of self and their physical and emotional health. This aspect can also indicate a need to pay attention to the body's signals and to prioritize rest and relaxation when needed. The individual may have a strong desire to achieve optimal health and well-being, and may be drawn to careers or activities related to health and wellness.

✧. ┊Moon: it indicates a deep connection between emotional well-being and physical health. The Moon represents the individual's emotional nature and sense of security, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a strong focus on nurturing oneself both emotionally and physically. The individual may be particularly sensitive to environmental factors that impact their well-being, and may benefit from a supportive community or network of loved ones. This aspect can also indicate a need to prioritize self-care and to recognize the importance of rest and relaxation for overall health and well-being.

✧. ┊Mercury: it indicates a deep interest in health and wellness, particularly with regards to mental health and communication. Mercury represents the individual's communication style and mental processes, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a desire to share information about health and wellness with others. The individual may be drawn to careers or activities related to healthcare, psychology, or other fields related to mental and emotional well-being. This aspect can also indicate a need to prioritize self-care and to recognize the importance of mental and emotional health for overall well-being.

✧. ┊Venus:it indicates a deep connection between physical well-being and aesthetic beauty. Venus represents the individual's sense of beauty, love, and attraction, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a desire to maintain good health and wellness in order to promote physical attractiveness. The individual may be drawn to activities that promote both physical health and beauty, such as yoga or dance, and may prioritize self-care and pampering in order to maintain a sense of balance and well-being. This aspect can also indicate a need to prioritize relationships and social connections as a key aspect of overall health and well-being.

✧. ┊Mars: it indicates a strong connection between physical health and energy levels. Mars represents the individual's drive, ambition, and physical energy, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a strong desire to maintain good health and wellness in order to achieve one's goals. The individual may be drawn to physical activity and may prioritize exercise as a key aspect of overall health and well-being. This aspect can also indicate a need to recognize the importance of rest and relaxation in order to maintain a healthy balance between physical activity and recovery.

✧. ┊Jupiter: it indicates a deep interest in health and wellness on a global or societal level. Jupiter represents the individual's sense of optimism, growth, and expansion, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a desire to promote health and well-being for all. The individual may be drawn to careers or activities related to public health, advocacy, or policy-making, and may prioritize community outreach and education as a key aspect of overall health and well-being. This aspect can also indicate a need to recognize the interconnectedness of all living beings and to promote a holistic approach to health and wellness.

✧. ┊Saturn: it indicates a deep sense of responsibility and discipline when it comes to health and wellness. Saturn represents the individual's sense of structure, authority, and responsibility, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a desire to maintain good health and wellness in a rigorous and disciplined manner. The individual may be drawn to structured exercise routines or health regimens, and may prioritize self-discipline and self-control as key aspects of overall well-being. This aspect can also indicate a need to recognize the importance of balance and flexibility when it comes to health and wellness, and to avoid becoming overly rigid or self-critical in pursuit of perfection.

✧. ┊Uranus: it indicates a focus on unconventional or innovative approaches to health and wellness. Uranus represents the individual's sense of rebellion, revolution, and change, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a desire to explore new and untested methods for achieving optimal health and well-being. The individual may be drawn to alternative healing practices or may experiment with unconventional diets or exercise regimens. This aspect can also indicate a need to recognize the potential risks and benefits of unconventional approaches to health and wellness, and to maintain a sense of balance and caution when exploring new methods.

✧. ┊Neptune: it indicates a deep connection between physical health and spiritual well-being. Neptune represents the individual's sense of spirituality, intuition, and imagination, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a desire to explore the connection between the mind and body. The individual may be drawn to meditation, yoga, or other spiritual practices, and may prioritize emotional and mental health as key aspects of overall well-being. This aspect can also indicate a need to recognize the potential risks and benefits of alternative healing practices, and to maintain a sense of balance between physical and spiritual health.

✧. ┊Pluto: it indicates a deep connection between physical health and transformative experiences. Pluto represents the individual's sense of power, transformation, and rebirth, and when in aspect with Hygeia, this can manifest as a desire to explore the connection between the body and the unconscious mind. The individual may be drawn to practices such as psychoanalysis or hypnotherapy, and may prioritize emotional and mental health as key aspects of overall well-being. This aspect can also indicate a need to recognize the potential risks and benefits of transformative experiences, and to maintain a sense of balance between physical, emotional, and spiritual health.

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