#of sickness and teaching and tiredness

[spacebarbarianweird]

Would you do some headcanons for Astarion/a Druid Tav, I know druids are supposed to be opposed to the undead on principal, and I dunno, just want to see people dealing that.

It turned out a bit long and bittersweeet and, I hope, you will enjoy it! Tav \ Reader is a Forest Circle Druid since it's the most popular one.

Astarion x Druid!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You're complete opposites, even if you don't take into account the fact that he is undead.

Astarion has always been a city person, someone who feels comfortable in bustling, busy places.

Even after 200 years of torments, he is still ready to live in his favorite city, Baldur's Gate.

But you are a child of nature, born in a small village and raised by the Druids of the Forest Circle.

You love and respect nature in all its forms: animals, plants, trees, insects…

You can sleep in the dirt and feel comfortable under the starry skies.

All materialistic things make you feel sick. Meanwhile, Astarion craves them as repayment for 200 years of the most pathetic existence.

Moreover, Druids aren't really of the Undead.

The Undead desecrate nature and all your spells hurt Astarion, reminding him he will never be truly alive.

You try not to think about the future. Who knows if you even manage to survive.

But then, it's over. You are alive. The nasty astral thing in your head disappears, and you want just to wash it all from yourself and disappear into your beloved woods.

Astarion cries in pain as the sun burns him alive. He runs away and disappears in the shadows.

You look for him, in daylight and at night, but he is gone. What if he is dead? What if he burnt to death?

After a few days, you finally decide to leave the city and return home. With a broken heart.

Only to wake up at your small camp by soft steps.

You yell at Astarion. You curse him. You even cast a druidic spell that hurts him a bit.

"How could he? Why? So everyone was right about the undead; they are cruel after all."

Astarion apologizes. He was embarrassed and scared. He decided you would never want to have him by your side.

"You are a Druid, my love. You are supposed to hate the undead. I will desecrate whatever you hold dear. I just wanted to say goodbye."

And he looks like a miserable stray cat, saying this.

"I was a Druid when I met you. I was a Druid when I let you have sex with me. I was a Druid when I accepted your darkness. Nature is about a choice. You choose not to be evil. I choose you."

He is still hesitant. "It's not like you would allow me to murder animals."

"Would I forbid a wolf from eating a deer? Would I condemn a falcon for feeding its fledglings? You are a predator, Astarion, so be one. Just don't take more than you need."

You travel through Faerun—Astarion might not admit it, but he misses nature; he craves it.

He wants to enjoy the fresh air and green scenery, far from dirty city streets.

Astarion loves stargazing. You teach him to use stars to find the way in the woods.

You also teach him basic survival skills: how to build a fire, and how to find shelter. He is a good student and soon does all these things even better than you.

There is also something changing about him.

Astarion's obsession with his looks has always come from his vulnerability and lack of body control. His face and body were the only things Cazador didn't take from him.

But nature… nature has a different beauty.

Suddenly, you notice Astarion doesn't freak out if he scratches his perfect skin or breaks a nail.

He is okay wearing simple clothes even if they are a bit dirty or ripped.

He stops asking if his hair looks good, and, some days, he resembles a Feywild, not a High Elf.

First, you worry it's a sign of a soul illness, fatigue, and mental tiredness.

But, no. He is happy. He enjoys walking barefoot on grass or climbing up trees.

One day, he admits to you that he can't be happy in the cities. They will always remind him of his death, revival, and slavery. But the woods mean freedom.

But it doesn't mean he doesn't struggle. Nightmares, panic attacks—name it yourself.

He screams. He cries as if he is being tortured at the very moment.

"No one will hear you here, my love. Cry and scream as loud as you need. Cry away all the pain you've stored in your heart."

And he does. He yells. He howls like a wounded animal. Letting himself express everything he couldn't before.

It's a way of healing.

If you notice he is anxious or depressed, you make the drink for yourself, and then, when you feel the effect, let him drink from you.

You teach him to hunt.

You kill a deer. You eat the meat, he drinks the blood. Together you bury every single bone in the ground so the animals can find the path to their next lives.

There is another perk you have. You know how to polymorph.

You constantly take the form of a falcon, a wolf, or a cat. Other forms don't feel natural to you.

Astarion especially likes your cat form—a red feline with a fluffy tail.

"Oh darling, you are the most adorable little cat."

One of the issues he still has is a fear of touches. It's mostly okay. You sleep together, cuddling each other (almost always naked).

You have sex, loud and wild, not caring about being noticed.

But sometimes he just can't let you touch him. Touches are a pain; intimacy becomes torture.

He tries to force himself, but it always ends up bad.

So when you notice he is like that, you polymorph into the cat.

You crawl on his lap and start purring.

He strokes your fur and ears, pressing you tight to his chest as if you were a plushie.

You just adore being held like that.

In daylight, he stays inside the tent while you look around. Once, he notices you stand in the center of the beautiful meadow—while he, as usual, hides in the tent.

He can't take his eyes from you—you smile, opening your arms wide.

And then, suddenly, you put off your tunic, drop it onto the ground, and start dancing.

Absolutely naked.

There is nothing sexual about it—but something very wild instead.

You dance to the music you are the only one who can hear—as if praying to the sun and to the woods.

You are free. You are wild. You are part of nature.

He looks at you in awe as if seeing you for the first time.

After sunset, he dances with you the same way—naked in the moonlight.

He knows you will always be with him. Even when your time comes.

When it happens, he will bury you in the roots of an oak, giving you back to nature.

Your body will become grass and flowers, and, wherever he goes, he will know you follow him.

And when he decides it's enough, he will undress and dance till the morning comes.

He will face the sunlight one last time and turn into ashes, that will be scattered on the wind.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

#spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #tav x astarion #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fluff #astarion imagine #astarion x female reader #tav druid #dnd druid #tav bg3

[citrus-simp]

A/N: So based off of this blurb here, I wanted to elaborate more on king Bakugou with his pregnant queen. (Idc if there has been a fic I’ve made about this I like Bakugou as a father and pregnant fics are fluffy and comfort)

ANYWAY-

__________________________________________

So after being nagged by advisors about having an heir Bakugou uh....took care of it

literally

Now you've missed 2 periods and you're more than sure you were pregnant. In addition to the constant tiredness, and morning sickness. Bakugou being the prideful king he was wanted to be the one to help you in the early months.

Holding your hair back, tucking you in bed, even making your food. Now he may be the king but the only person he would cook for is you himself and now your baby.

Once it was confirmed by the medic, Bakugou had to step out of the room for a moment while they spoke to you.

This was just an heir to the thrown this was his child. And he would be damned if he let them be treated only as an heir and not his pride and joy. The same thing went for you, he couldn't feel more pride knowing you were the mother of his child.

You thought he was protective before?? You haven't seen anything yet! it bumped up from a 10 to a 10000000.

He loved to watch you grow and sometimes he would stare at you in awe knowing what you and your body were capable of. This was your first child together so he was hoping all will go well

He would inspect the castle to make sure nothing was in your way to harm you.

"Katsuki you don't need the stairs taken away-"

"Oh yes I do, I'll go to hell before I let you go down any stairs" he answered back

"...katsuki its 3 steps"

"I don't care!"

He loved to wake up in the morning and watch as his stomach rose and fell. But it didn't fall completely flat. for the first few months there was a small bump, almost like bloating, but after about 3 months it started to round more. It only made Bakugou fall even harder for you

He would look at you and just wonder about it. The baby, its growth, who they'd look like who they'd act like, everything

Every now and then he'll wrap you in his arms and whisper a gentle thank you

"you both mean more than any gold I could ever have. I love you"

"awh katsuki" you'd say tearing up

While you were coming closer to the months of just bed rest he had the best midwives and doctors he could find in the village. He had them live in the castle at least until it was time for the baby to be born

He had already known women go through a great ordeal in life and childbirth was part of many. He couldn't bare your pain or take it away but he could help you. For once he had set his pride aside and asked to be taught all about childbirth and what he could do to help

he loves you....very much

"Teach me how this will all go down and what shit I have to do for her." he had his own unique way of asking for help. The doctor was in charge of scientific childbirth and the midwives told him how he can console and comfort you through labor.

he spent about 2 hours there

and he came out a new man with new knowledge. He wasn't the pregnant one and he was terrified. The labor was separate from actual birth and could go on for hours

birth wasn't fun either

and the months of recovery would not be easy either. In some ways, he felt regret for getting you pregnant and now he could only watch you through pain when the time came.

However, the midwives assured him that if he held your hand, encouraged you, and helped you in whatever way he needed, you would appreciate it even more.

While he snuggled you in bed he said "I learned some new information today. Just know that I'm grateful...for everything" he said cradling your bump

When the day finally came, he was there from the first light contraction to the very strongest. He would even see how your stomach contracted, but he knew the worst was yet to come

He had to admit it hurt him more knowing that you were in pain until this was over. Ignoring the pain in his hand from your squeezing. He wiped the sweat from your face, he held you while you let all your weight rest on him, he massaged any sore spots, he kissed your head to try and comfort you

"I know it hurts...but you're strong, you've got this" "that's it, it's almost over" "you're doing great, I'm right here" "good job, just one more push, you're so close"

After it was all done, a scream was finally heard, and the room fell silent.

It was a boy (:

The midwives cleaned him up while Bakugou kissed and congratulated you

"You did so good Y/N, I-I don't know how you pulled through all of that but you did amazing," he said kissing your forehead

The crying had died down while he was getting washed up making Bakugou look over, you squeezed his hand and said "Go see him" you urged him

he was a bit nervous to see him up close but his feet move without thought "your majesty, your son" said the midwife handing his baby over to him wrapped warmly in a blanket

"h-hey there...I'm your...your dad bud.." he was starstruck "He looked like him but he looked more like you. He even had his pout only being minutes old "let's go and see mommy yeah?"

"look at him babe....you did amazing," he said as teared up, handing you the small and delicate bundle. You couldn't fathom the amount of love you felt at that moment. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life

"Hello, sweetheart...I'm your mommy" you sniffed as tears blurred your vision. Bakugou crawled into the bed with you and gently touched the hair on his head. His eyes open up to showcase his bright crimson eyes, just like his father

"Y/N..." he called for your attention "you are nothing short of a goddess. I won't lie to you I was scared through the entire process, but you pulled through so strongly I...just..thank you...thank you so much" he said kissing your forehead

#domestic bakugou #dragon king bakugou #king bakugou #bakugou x reader #king Bakugou x reader #anime #bnha x fem!reader #bnha fantasy au #bnha x reader #bnha x pregnant reader #dad bakugou

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Healing Kissy (Sebek, Azul)

"My head hurts, can you kiss my forehead so it'll stop?"

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

My head is trying to explode, comfort me, fictional men

— (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

— Sebek Zigvolt

“WHAT?!”

Sebek shuts his mouth with a loud noise at the full body wince from the Prefect that meets his exclamation. He apologizes in a softer voice, both to not aggravate her headache more and to keep with her request to not be too loud inside closed rooms. She accepts his apologies easily, as she tends to do despite his best efforts to teach her to be more assertive, and smiles at him. Usually, her smile would make his heart jump inside his chest, but right now it can only squeeze in worry at the tiredness behind the gesture.

Human beings are just so weak.

So ephemeral.

So… precious.

“Very well, since  you’re sick and in pain, I shall help you however necessary.”

Sebek’s kiss is somehow determined like only him can be. It’s firm and it’s sure and so, so comforting.

If “the power of believing” was a legit magic source, Sebek would cure you with that kiss alone. He knows it is most likely just a human superstition, but part of him can’t help but hope it’ll at least alleviate some of your pain.

Will definitely kiss your forehead again if you ask.

Actually, he might offer a kiss even if you don’t complain about headaches. You should accept all of them, not only you’re getting free kisses, but Sebek lightens up with the prospect of helping his second favorite person.

At some point he might get so used to it that he starts just randomly kissing your forehead. Will explain it as “dutifully preventing future headaches”, and that is actually part of the truth. The other part is that he likes kissing your forehead

Kiss his forehead back, he’ll blush so hard but also boast about “being protected against all head ailments”. Will not accept forehead kisses from anyone else other than his mom, Lilia and Malleus (though the last one is not interested).

— (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

— Azul Ashengrotto

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m sick, my head hurts. Can you give me a forehead kiss? It’ll make it feel better.”

That is scientifically impossible, Prefect. Healing kisses are not, in fact, a thing. Unless there’s someone with a unique magic that heals people through kisses. That would be an interesting employee to have, in case of emergencies—wait, he’s not supposed to think about that right now. No, right now Azul has something more important to care about: his girlfriend’s wellbeing.

“Very well, for a price, anything can be done.”

“Zuzu, I’m sick. Can’t I get a free kiss just this time?”

“... that can be arranged.”

Literally so soft? Like, this man’s lips are so, so soft and plump? Sir, where are you going with those lips? Who are you kissing?

Well, you. He’s kissing your forehead, and it’s the softest, most gentle kiss you’ve ever gotten. You might get addicted.

Azul is incredibly embarrassed, but he can’t find it in himself to deny a request from you.

Because he’s embarrassed, he’ll only show affection beyond hand holding behind closed doors. Also, he happens to have two eels that love to tease him far too much. So don’t expect kisses to happen a lot.

But he’ll surely give them when you’re alone in a room. There’s no deal and not even need for a reason, he’ll kiss your forehead as soon as he has your ok.

Kiss his forehead back and he might spit some ink. He’s blushing so hard and his hearts are on overdrive. But he wants more. Give him more kisses, please. He loves them.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #x fem reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader

[vanilla-teddybear]

Remember Me

Hanahaki disease

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Synopsis: You have been in love with Midorya for months but when he confessed his feelings for someone else you became ill

Remember me though I have to say goodbye Remember me, don't let it make you cry For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart Remember…..

The first flower spilled suddenly from your lips, like a warm waterfall. When you were pretending to be Oblivious and asked Deku who he liked he said “Uraraka”

That broke you to the core and before you knew it you were throwing up daffodils. It Symbolized unrequited love.

Your heart started to hurt and tears ran down your face as you continued to throw up petals. You pathetically chuckled wiping the tears away and flushing your toilet. You laid in your bed with a trash bin near your bed, you been throwing up petals all night now having any average sleep.

For the past first two weeks you’ve been hiding it, playing it off as tiredness.

Until Midoriya and Uraraka actually started dating making you even worse than before. You started throwing up more than petals this time it was full blown flowers. You were scared, you weren't even sure that you can hide this from Mr. Aizawa anymore.

He was suspicious of you already.

You looked up everything about the diseased and you didn't want to take the surgery and forget about your first love. So you were gonna die watch Izuku fall for someone else that isn't you.

As you were throwing up red flowers, Bakugou kneeled beside you in worried surprisingly as he held your hair up.

"What the fuck ___" he mumbled he knew what this was, but he was in denial seeing one of his friends since middle school dying in front of him.

"Im dying I know and my dying wish is for you not to tell anyone, I want to die is peace and in the water" You said bluntly making Baukgou gape at you.

"WHAT? YOUR JUST GONNA ACCEPT THIS ___?" He yelled at you qustioning if your bring rational or not.

You looked dead already with eye bags covered in flowers from your throat. "I-Im so tired Katsuki" You whispered as tears flowed down your face. His face held pity and guilt heistant before nodding. He held you close.

"T-Tell me the guy your dying for at least ___" He mumbled looking you with his red eyes as you sigh in agreement. "Izuku" you said making his eyes widen before nodding.

You both sit in the bathroom in silence on the floor until he inturpts the silence again. "what will your last moments be?"

"In the ocean watching the sunset before fading away" You mumbled sadly.

"Ill come with you to take your body to the officials" Bakugou said sternly making you nod as you both stay in the bathroom longer for peace from each other.

The Next day...

Bakugou kept an eye on you to make sure you weren't worse then before and even if he cant see it he can tell you were gonna fade soon.

"___!!!" Midoriya called out to you grabbing your hand as you tense. "We havent hang out in a while its like I barley see you anymore, How about we go get ice cream later or go to our hangout spot-" He rambles but stop when you snatch your hand from his like he was poison.

He gave you a questioning look trying to take your hand back "Puppy whats wrong?" he asked stepping towards before bakugou steps in between the two of you.

"Move away Nerd" Bakugou mumbles pushing Izuku backwards.

"Stay out of this Kacchan, I just wanna talk to them they been looking sick lately" Deku argued

"I prefer if we didn't hang out Midoriya" You saying his last name hit right through home as you rushed away from the both of them feeling the urge the throw up. Bakugou walked away from Deku ignoring the the green hair questions.

Using an Illusion on your teacher wasn't ideal nor was your plan but if it means leaving in peace then you took the chance.

A few more days pass and you knew it was time.

Bakugou took you to the beach, thrones were piercing your throat as you were in pain but this is your dying wish. "Thank you Katsuki" You mumbled as he stayed silent. You entered the water looking at the sunset, You threw up more flowers and then thrones as you eyes slowly closed as you faded away. Bakugou watched as his childhood friend fades away. Before you could drown he carried your dead body back to campus.

As he entered the dormitory he saw Aizawa and All Might with Midoriya all looking worried. When Midoriya saw your dead drench body he instantly snatch your body not feeling a heartbeat. He let out broken sobs.

"Young Bakugou please explain" All might whispered scared to trigger his young intern.

"She had the Hanahaki disease and she was in love with you" Bakugou bluntly said making Deku sobs louder and more broken.

All Might looked at Aizawa knowing what he meant, "Lets head to bed Bakugou and then we'll ask you questions" Aizawa tiredly said leading his student to his dorm. He can tell by Bakugou red eyes and his tear stain face that he was grieving too.

Once they left Deku sobs could still be heard.

"Young Midoriya let it all out" All might said making Deku screamed making his eyes pure green and green lightning surrounded both your bodies. His screaming was a grieving and broken scream as he doesn’t let go your body.

Remember Me…..

#mha x reader #bhna x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #my hero academia x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya x uraraka

[fatuismooches]

Skipping classes with Zandik post awakened something in me, lol. Imagine it, but with flagile!reader (yes I'm delulu so what)

At first reader feels a bit dizzy, but mostly fine and thinks it's because of Sumeru heat. Zandik is annoyed by you being slow, but you're lucky you befriended him, otherwise he'd abandon you in woods

As your condition worsens and he warms toward you, you faint while he fights Ruin Guard that he wanted to take apart and Zandik panics so much!!! He gets you to safety, so-so worried, before that happened you didn't realize how much he cares about you

Fragile!reader skips more and more classes because of your condition, but you don't get to spend your time alone. You tell Zandik to not skip classes, but he says he knows all the stuff they're teaching already. He may even become your personal tutor if you're interested, heh (or maybe he just doesn't want to leave you alone when you're so weak..)

YES YES OMGF EDBEDE IM DISINTEGRATING AHHHHH. Ugh him being cold and annoyed at you and then slowly warming up to you is so <333 PERFECT. It's fascinating to look back on his transformation to you... like the guy who's letting you sit in his lap all cuddly was the same one who threatened or ignored you every minute hundreds of years ago 😭

The fragile reader angst/fluff... you're scared of being a burden to him especially after you made it this far, but the fact he's still here (a bit begrudgingly) makes you a bit relieved that he likes you a little bit at least. But you never thought you'd ever see an expression like that on his face - panic. You don't even know if you were hallucinating it from your tiredness, but it felt so real. So real that even Zandik couldn't fake it even if he wanted to. You don't wake up in the forest but rather in your bed. Then it all escalates when you realize he skipped out on his valuable research time to come back and take care of !!! you !!! And he continues to do so despite your protests!! Checking on your condition and paying more attention to it than you. For some reason seeing you weak and defenseless, a stark contrast from your usual self, makes him feel upset and irritated. You don't know whether your face is warm from being sick or from blushing.

He's genuinely surprised at his reaction too, he didn't think he'd react so strongly, probably thinks he's sick at first too until he finds out he's not. (He finds out later he's in l-l-ov- nevermind, he refuses to admit it)

Tutor Zandik is the kind of guy to use the most drastic analogies when explaining stuff to you- idk how but he uses dead bodies and things along that line 😭 (Oddly it still makes sense... strange)

#smooches talks #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #writing akademiya dottore is such a pleasure for me bc #i ADORE the pre-relationship/pining stage like its my fav thing #like both of u r so clearly in love and trying to show affection without being obvious n waiting for the other to make the first move... #AHHH ITS SO GOOD

[chupenguin]

Out of bitten lips and broken hands

✨Soukoku, 2k of domestic fluff in a really poetic way

✨This is a gift for @nacaharachuya, since their writting made me have the inspiration to write again

✨This is a fic of a fic, I have the permision to write it, what makes me really happy :D, I don't plan to post it in ao3, since it's not my own idea, but I wanted to share it here, hope you like it. Text under the cut

Chuuya loves to start his mornings when the sun rises with a dip in the ocean that baths their sore.

Their beach.

Their home. 

Because Chuuya seems to think about everything around the place as theirs, walks around like he owns their little world, and Dazai loves that confidence he has. 

What he loves a little less, is the way Chuuya seems to have a fit against human clothing, even after all this time. So, even now, he walks back into their home necked and dripping wet, never ashamed of the human body he inhabits now. 

“As much as I love the sight dear,” Dazai says each morning (and today is not exception), amusement in his voice mixed with the tiredness of a night watching the sore. “I don’t love the idea of you being sick dove.” 

The silk robe wraps around him and Chuuya indulges his man for once, offering him his arms so he can slide the fabric over his wet skin. Still dripping into the floorboards, Chuuya turns around, grabbing one of the pastel-colored sticky notes on the walls. Dazai spent part of the night ignoring his duty, covering the kitchen in them instead.  

“What are those for?” 

“I thought you wanted to lean the human tongue,” Dazai tells him, walking away, resting his back against the old fridge. He takes a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, looking all pleasant and full of himself. For a scrappy human, Chuuya finds fascinating how regal his husband can look in his messiness. “Naming everything around the house should help.”  

“I know all their names,” a stubborn pretty thing, his husband is. “I don’t need to write them.” 

“Who would teach the kids how to write then?” 

“Their useless father would teach them useless things,” he answers, plopping down in one of the kitchen chairs. Without a word needed, Dazai offers him a second mug of coffee, pure and black, he’s disgusted by the awfully taste Chuuya has in human drinks, but he doesn’t say a word. “And I would teach how to hunt.” 

“Humans don’t hunt dear, not like that,” but that talk is useless with Chuuya. He seems to find amusing how easy Dazai’s kind find their food. “Now close your eyes.” 

Fetching a towel from one of the cabinets, he steps behind Chuuya and starts to dry his air. His husband just sits there, drinking his sour monstrosity while Dazai combs trough long strands of orange hair. 

Chuuya's hair is getting longer and longer each day and maybe, the magic he holds must do something with it. 

He's still getting the hold of the shapeshifting part of it all. Most of the time, the changes are so subtle that Chuuya doesn’t seem to notice them. But Dazai does. 

Call it obsession if you want. 

He notices the way somedays, the curve of Chuuya’s jaw is softer. Or how his eyes lean more toward grey than blue. He grows a centimeter shorter, but never the other way around, and his hair never seems to stat the same length for two days in a row. 

It's nice, that the changes are so small that no one else than Dazai would know, of people would have even more questions about who is Chuuya.  

This is how their mornings go. 

Chuuya swims in the ocean and comes back home for Dazai to dry him and comb his hair. 

They would help each other to get dressed and head to the village. 

It's a nice routine and Dazai Is growing fonder on it each day.  

Domestic and routinary are things that he never expected to love as much as he does now. 

Dazai leans in, draping himself around Chuuya’s back so he can leave a good morning kiss against his check, but the moment his lips land against Chuuya’s skin, his husband moves. 

Chuuya grabs his face, sharp nails dig into Dazai’s skin.  

He doesn’t miss the disgust in Chuuya’s eyes when he feels roughness under his palm, after all, he did ask for him to shave two days ago and he has yet to obey. 

“As far as I know, pinnipeds don’t have claws, what if we trim yours my love?” 

When he tilts his head. Coper curls fall from Chuuya’s shoulder, and some strands stick to his skin. One catches on his lips, red against red, and Dazai has the urge to comb it behind his ear again, so obstruct the view of sharp eyes narrowing in warning.  

“As far as I know humans are not covered in fur.”  

“The stupid mutts from the town can rub their fur against you, but your husband can’t do it? Chuuya is cruel.”  

“And you still took me as yours.” 

And he would do it again, and again. 

Chuuya’s hand drops from his face, resting against Dazai’s check in what seems a loving caress but, a moment later, it rests against his throat. It stops there for a few seconds, before the trail down continues, until Chuuya’s warm palm rest against his chest. 

He could use those sharp nails to claw Dazai’s chest open, he could dig inside him and devour what’s truly his. Chuuya wouldn't even need to do it, Dazai would serve himself what belongs to Chuuya in a silver plate, only for him to eat. 

Dazai would sit there once more, loving the view of red against red against red. 

Because the color looks so good, dripping from Chuuya’s parted lips.  

“What can I say?” his hand rest in top of Chuuya’s smaller one. The metal band on his finger is the only part of him that is cold, and Dazai’s thumb caress it gently. “I’m fond on strays.” 

Chuuya's eyes narrow for a moment and then, he blows the hair that sticks to his forehead, turning to give his back to Dazai once more. 

“Keep going,” he says. “I want to visit the market.” 

“As you wish my love,” and kissing the crown of his head, Dazai stars braiding Chuuya’s hair. “Let’s show everyone one more day how lucky I am.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was curious, seeing Chuuya learning about his world from a human perspective and maybe, it made him fall a little more in love each day. 

Nautic charts seemed to catch his eye more than any other thing for some reasons. Chuuya ignored the textbooks about seals Dazai always joked about and lost any interest in algae's as soon as he realized that in land, they only served as food. Even if, for a moment, he was devasted by the realization that the beautiful bouquet of purple brilliant weed, turned into a brown ugly amalgam once it was outside the sea.  

Everything from his world, seemed to rot in this one.  

Except for him, nothing held the same level of beauty in both worlds. 

Once nature was dismissed, a weird fascination for humans seemed to settle inside his mind, and Dazai found himself searching for pieces of antique paper, yellowing with time, to gift to his husband. 

“We use the north to guide ourselves.” 

“I know.” 

“You know a lot of things, don’t you?”  

“Of course, I do,” chin up, and lips curved into a smile, Chuuya looked so proud of himself. Resting on their bed, legs tangled together, and an old nautical chart spread over their legs, Dazai’s flicked Chuuya’s nose, what earned him an –almost– bite.  

“But what you don’t know little fox, is that our north changes,” pointing to the compass drawn in the corner of the map, Dazai’s fingers trace the words under it. “You need to fix it, each year the differences get bigger between the true north and the geographic north.” 

Dazai puts the compass in the drawing in the corner and traces a small line down the map. Chuuya observes the way he moves with sharp attention, Dazai has a way of doing things that owns his whole focus. 

“We call the distance minutes and each day, our North moves eight minutes,” it sounds stupid, why would anyone move at the same time they count the pass of time? But Chuuya listens. He leans closer to Dazai, head resting over his shoulder and playing with his husband’s free hand. “So, since this chart is from 1994, so if you wanted to use this map you should fix more than twenty years of error...” 

“Sounds complicated.” 

“Not all of us are kids of the ocean dear,” resting dry lips against Chuuya’s temple, Dazai lets out a soft laugh. “We need guidance.” 

“That’s why I’m here,” to teach him how to navigate life. How to cross all the paths they find together, hands clasped together, biting into each other skin so they never part. “You don’t need stupid maps.” 

“I thought you liked stupid maps.” 

“And I like your face, my taste in things shouldn’t be taken as measurement.” 

Chuuya pushes him into his back, and Dazai allows him to do it, compass and map long forgotten in exchange of something that Chuuya finds a little more interesting, and as human as art. 

Everything falls from the mattress to the floor, as Chuuya’s hands cradle Dazai’s face, and he straddles his lap. Chuuya kiss him slow and gentle, because they had enough blood for a while in their home. It stained the floorboards for ten lifetimes, and now Chuuya’s lips taste like the life Dazai always run from. 

When Chuuya’s hands move to Dazai’s neck, when cautious fingers slip down the fabric of his shirt, Dazai smiles, waiting for Chuuya to eat him whole. He’s a creature of passion after all. 

But the kiss doesn’t get further, Chuuya just rest his lips against Dazai’s ones. When lays on top of Dazai’s chest, head tucked under his chin, Dazai can feel a chaste kiss against his neck. If Chuuya wanted to bite down, if he locked his yaw against Dazai’s throat, it would be his ending, and he would die a happy death. 

Instead of that follows a second kiss, there is no bite, no anger, when Chuuya tucks himself in Dazai’s embrace, humming softly and closing his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, playing with long strands of coppery hair. Dazai traces figures on Chuuya’s back, humming back to his lover. “I am your husband, not your mattress.” 

“You are whatever I ask you to be,” Chuuya says, lips still against his neck. 

“And what do you want me to be dear?” 

“Mine.” 

Like he could be something apart from Chuuya’s. 

He belongs to him, body and soul, if he still has one of those.  

After what they went through, after experiencing the pain of not having him by his side, Dazai is sure that he would just turn into sand and die if Chuuya leaved him. 

Or maybe, he would just stand at the sore, waiting for him to swim back into his beach.  

In the village people would whisper his name. 

Did you hear that the lighthouse keeper is still waiting? 

They say that he’s there, in the beach, covered by coral and salt. 

He waits and waits... oh that poor man. 

Don't wait more boy, your Venus is not coming back. 

He would keep waiting, because what would happen if his Venus wanted to come back? If down there, where the light doesn't shine, his dove was fighting to go back to him? 

Maybe the ocean loved Chuuya as much as Dazai did. Maybe, the ocean had him locked, a punishment for taking him away first, and that was why he wasn’t coming back. 

Where does the tides come from? Someone would ask. 

There's a creature locked in the bottom of the ocean, and old man would say. Fighting so hard to go back to his lover, that the whole ocean shakes.  

It would be a fitting ending. Either being forgotten or turning into a popular tale, Dazai would take it as long as he doesn’t have to live without Chuuya. 

“I can hear you thinking Mackerl,” Chuuya says. Still here. Still in his arms. The ocean would have to make a better try, if he wants to take him away from this lighthouse. “Peny for a thought?” 

“Nothing dear,” he hugs him, and close his eyes too. “Just thinking about how good you fit in my arms.” 

And how good they fit in this bed. 

In this house. 

In this beach. 

How everything he named his theirs, now and in thirty years, it would be only theirs. 

Osamu and Chuuya. 

Lighthouse keeper and selkie. 

Devoted and God. 

Them, them, them... 

That's how the thud of Chuuya’s heart sounds. 

And that’s the sound that lures them both to sleep.  

#this is inspired by a spanish song i love a lot btw #and by dana work of cours #if anyone read this i hope you like it #i did it with all the respect i have for dana and their art #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #skk #bsd #chu writes #bsd fanfic #soukoku #silver soul #silver soul skk #english is not mu 1sy lenguafe sorry for any posible typos

[divinemare]

-ˏˋ⋆ 𝔄 𝔠 𝔬 𝔲 𝔯 𝔱 𝔬 𝔣 𝔤 𝔬 𝔡 𝔰 𝔞 𝔫 𝔡 𝔪 𝔬 𝔫 𝔰 𝔱 𝔢 𝔯 𝔰 ⋆ˊˎ-

└──» ✎ 。 Azriel x Oc

part six

┊✧*｡ ✯┊☪︎⋆✧*｡ ┊

War had erupted. In what seemed like just months, chaos had put Prythian upside down. Or more like the majority of the Continent, as it seemed.

“This is are not just problems, are they,” Mareena sighed, looking towards the door with Morrigan sited beside her, they were both waiting for the same thing.

“No, no I don’t think so,” the blonde sighed as well, and just seconds after, the door finally opened.

Both females stood up so quickly, Mareena’s head began to spin, but she hid it just fine as one by one, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian entered the cabin with heavy bags under their eyes and the shadow of tiredness looming in their faces.

“So…?” Morrigan gathered up the courage that Mareena didn’t feel to ask.

“Humans struck last night. Almost everywhere, as if…”

“As if it had been planned,” Mor finished the sentence for Cassian, and the winged male nodded slightly, his eyes lost in a blur of thoughts.

“So, it’s oficial,” Mareena said, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking, but failing miserably.

“Yes, it’s oficial,” Rhysand spoke for the first time, looking up with that deadly calmness of his that let Mareena —and everyone else present—, know there was a waging war going on behind those violet eyes. “We’re at war.”

☪︎⋆

Mareena had always hated slaves, or more like the awfully cruel concept of them. They were, according to some High Fae, nothing, less than nothing, liabilities good for work. And, growing up being told she was just that; a liability with a good set of powers that made her interesting enough to keep alive, she was more than capable to sympathize with humans, and so to feel a little rush of thrill at every little detail Rhysand snicked their way every now and then about the upraising rebellion.

For the last couple of weeks, tho, she had been subjected to awful enclosure. Not being able to leave the cabin nor for training or a morning walk or to even open the door. Why? Because i’m the last couple of weeks, the camp had been filled with more than a dozen people who, if they recognized, or find out who she was, would not even tremble to call upon her father. And, with everyone else having duties and opportunities to leave that damn cabin, well, she was all on her own for hours, and sometime, even days.

So, naturally, she had to look for ways of distracting herself, and that was beginning to be a whole ton of a challenge, to say the least.

She tried sewing, like Rhysand’s mother had tried to teach her, but every time she would end up with injured fingers and a crappy mood. Then cooking, which, she had actually thought at one point she was mastering, until Azriel tried one of her cakes, and although the tried his best to hide the sickness, and cheer her for her efforts, Mareena saw him gulp two glasses of water when he thought she wasn’t watching. She tried sparing with herself, practicing some moves; didn’t work, she almost severed Cassian head with a knife by accident when he entered unexpectedly through the door. She tried painting, and what a horrific idea that had been, she promised herself never to touch a brush again in her life. She tried dancing, and while that actually amused her and she got very good at, in time it turned boring, and even depressing, without a partner to dance with. And finally, when she actually believed she was about to lose her damn mind, she picked up a book.

Oh, what a wonderful idea that had been. Not for the book itself, but for the thousands of ideas that it gave her. And once she finished reading, she picked up a quill and some parchment, and started writing her own stories.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice startled her from behind.

She had been so concentrated in her narrative, she had not realized someone had entered the cabin. When she turned around, tho, her racing heart lowered its heavy rhythm when she saw Azriel’s face. She hadn’t seen him in, what? Two, almost three days?

Now, her heart leaped in excitement as she pushed from the chair and into his arms.

“Az!” The boy laughed softly, and the rich deep sound made Mareena’s entire body and heart warm.

“I’ve missed you too, Squirrel,” he hugged her tightly, letting her know he was speaking truth.

Squirrel, that awful nickname he had chosen almost two years ago. “Because you get distracted easily, and have a short attention span, like a squirrel.” He had explained when she complained about it. “Also because you usually fill your mouth with food when you don’t want to share.” He had also said.

“What where you doing?” He asked again once they broke their long hug, pointing to the stack of parchment at the table with his head.

“Oh, nothing, you know, just distracting myself for the awful truth of my lonely enclosure,” she sighed dramatically, and Azriel laughed again, shaking his head.

“You know I’m always keeping you company, even tho I can’t be here, Mare,” Azriel said with a soft gaze, one that mixed remorse with affection.

“I know, I know, you’re at my heart and all that.”

“No, I mean, literally keep you company.”

When Mareena furrowed her brows in confusion, he signaled the dark corners of the cabin, where light didn’t reach and shadows took place. And, now that she was truly looking at them, Mareena could have sweared they moved. Her mouth fell open, how had she not noticed before?

“Az, you…” She turned to look at him again, her heart giving a little, silly jump. “But, wait, doesn’t that take some power away?”She furrowed her brows again? this time in concern.

“Yeah, a little, but, it’s worth it,” he shrugged it off as if it was nothing.

“Az…”

“No, don’t argue with me, it’s the least I can do, Mare, I wish I could do more, but-”

Mareena quickly shut him up wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug, having to get on her tiptoes.

“But you don’t want to leave me all on my own, I know,” she whispered, then pulled away just enough so she could stare into his beautiful, mesmerizing eyes. “I just don’t want you to be unprotected, not with all that’s going on.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but just as quickly, the door bursted open. And with a swift move, Azriel moved her behind him while facing the door. He let out a sight of relieve —and annoyance—, when Cassian’s face came into view.

“Oh, shit, sorry, did I just interrupt something?”

Yes, you big-

“No, come in,” Azriel answered instead, and Mareena’s heart, yet again, like all the times before, sank to back to her chest.

“Sorry, Az, but we’re needed back,” he said with a frown of that same remorse Azriel had had before.

“It’s ok, go do whatever Illyrian’s do, I’ll be fine,” she smiled at him, and he gave him a sad smile in return.

Cassian got to her to give her a feet-off-ground hug and a kiss in her head before saying goodby and heading back out. Strategy, training, it all was gaining on them, she saw it in their tired eyes, but, as the exceptional warriors they were, they let none of that show, and Mareena could only sigh and pray to the Mother as she herself resumed her writing. Now, grinning with a heart-warming feeling at the shadowy corner next to her.

☪︎⋆

A week had passed, and Mareena had been day and night with a quill and ink. It was fascinating, actually, how her mind just couldn’t stop spinning with stories and plots and characters and so many other things.

“There you are,” a tired, male voice spoke behind her, and Mareena turned around with the biggest smile, dropping her quill to run towards Rhysand’s arms.

She hadn’t seen him in so, so long, the male had been incredibly busy at the Court of Nightmares he barely had time to breath.

“You’re here!” She beamed with excitement.

“Barely,” his laugh was dry, not at all like the Rhys she was so accustomed to.

“Oh, that bad?” Mareena took a step back, still grasping his shoulders and squeezing a little bit for comfort.

“That bad,” he nodded, and there, close enough to pay attention to his face, her own contorted in a worried frown for the big, purple bags under his eyes.

“Oh, Rhys…” She hugged him again, and the male let a deep sigh.

Ones they parted, Mareena hurried to prepare the delicious tea Alhena had taught her to make. At least, she didn’t sucked at preparing that, and actually did them pretty well.

“Here you go, I asked Az to bring me some new herbs the other day, so this is a new recipe I think you’ll-” when she returned to the living room, Rhys was sited at the table, reading the parchments she had left scattered around.

He looked up at her, and Mareena swallowed hard. She hadn’t showed her work to anyone yet —not that there was anyone to show them to, anyway, apart from the shadows that got closer and closer to her.

“They’re just drafts, some silly things that came to my mind when I was bored,” she quickly said, putting both cups of tea down and cleaning the sweat from her hands in her skirt.

“Mare, this are amazing, this one’s actually bloody genius, the grumpy bat? I wonder who that was inspired by,” a genuine laugh from Rhys that lighten up his tired eyes made her smile as well.

“Yeah, please don’t tell him I did that, I had to threaten the shadows with a blast of light for that one the other day.”

Rhysand laughed again, a sound so genuine that Mareena joined him after.

After some minutes, tho, of Mareena showing him her favorite stories, Rhysand’s face changed drastically from a smile to a worried frown, and he wasn’t quick enough to hide it before she noticed.

“What’s going on? I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“It’s nothing, I just…nothing,” he shook his head, and tried to pretend he was fully focused on the parchment in front of him.

“Rhys…”

“I met Tamlin,” he blurted out when Mareena put a hand on his tensed bicep.

Mareena backed away a little bit, in pure shock with her eyes wide open and her mouth suddenly too dry.

Of course she hadn’t forgotten that name, her brother’s name, in all those years. He had been a baby when she first met him and last saw him, since his mother had been keeping him away from her and the dungeon her father kept her at in his early childhood. But now…he should be, what, 15, maybe even 17?

“I mean, of course I had met him before, at court functions, but I mean, a couple of days ago I…I really met him, talked to him and…yeah. To say my father was pissed is an understatement.”

“And…how-how is he?” She asked with a shaky voice.

He had been an innocent baby when she met him, and could always hear his beautiful, childish laughter when the doors of her dungeon were opened long enough. The Lady of the Spring Court had done a good job at keeping her youngest out of the cruelty of her mate, at least in some degree.

Rhys looked at her like he was trying to look into her mind to read her thoughts, but she knew that he wouldn’t, so she tried her best to keep her exterior from breaking.

“He’s…good, and I mean, like in a good person and all. He doesn’t want to be a High Lord, and has as much of a good relationship with his father than I have with mine. His brothers make his life impossible for that, too, so he joined his father’s war band to get some training. I’ve been teaching him some things but…I really didn’t want to keep seeing before I talked to you, I should’ve never talked to him in the first place without talking to you first, I’m-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her face relaxing a little bit and her eyes softening despite the hot tears that gathered there, and she got a little closer to him again, putting a hand in his arm once more. “Don’t apologize for that, Rhys, I’m…I’m glad you did what you did. That way, maybe you can keep him away from my…his, father’s horrible ideas.”

“Are you sure? Because Mare, you’re my sister, I don’t want you to feel-”

“Uncomfortable? Scared? Paranoid? Don’t worry about me, Rhys. Tamlin never hurt me, he never had any part on the things his bother and father did to me, he was just a kid back then, and the Lady of Spring kept him away from me as much as she could.”

A silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, just letting both think, specially Mareena to swallow and register the situation.

She wondered what he looked like now, he had been a beautiful baby back then, and had the most gorgeous green eyes and baby smile. She wondered if what Rhys was saying was true, and he was nothing like his brothers and father, and maybe, just maybe…

“Can you take me to meet him?” She said before actually thinking through her words.

Rhys turned to look at her in surprise, and didn’t found the words to respond for a couple of seconds.

“Are you…are you sure?”

“No, I mean…I don’t know, I just…if what you say it’s true, and he’s not like that bunch of awful males…sometimes I just feel like there’s a hole in me, Rhys. Don’t get me wrong, I love you and Cas and Az and Mor and every single one of you, you’re my family, and I love you and thank you every day of my life, it’s just…I don’t know…”

“You wonder if he could be your family too,” he finished for her, understanding and compassion shining in his violet eyes.

He had always looked at her like that, even when they first met, he was compassionate, and always understanding.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah, ok. I couldn’t help you find your mother, but maybe I can help you find your brother,” a smile stretched his lips, and Mareena jumped to hug him with a smile of her own.

They had tried to find her mother for years, they had done everything in their power to find her, but never got any answer in years, it was as if the female had disappeared from the Continent itself.

She had stoped thinking about it, tho, Alhena had filled that hole in her chest years ago, she was her mother now, and that was it.

“I’ll come to you when I’m sure it’s safe, ok?” She nodded with a smile, and Rhysand stood up from the table, kissing the top of her head.

He had to leave now, and even tho Mareena wanted him to stay a little longer, the trouble out there wasn’t gonna wait a minute longer for them.

“Oh, wait!” She stoped him before he could get out of the cabin, and Rhys turned around with furrowed eyebrows.

She gathered some parchment and molded them together with a bit of power.

“Here, take this one with you, maybe it can help you with a bit of a distraction when you need it. And, can you take this ones to Alhena and Valeria?”

“Oh, they’re gonna love it. Be prepared for mom to come and absolutely lose it with pride and Valeria to never let you live in peace again,” his laugh was full of love while he took with him the improvised books she tried to make. “By the way, nice trick, I didn’t know you were practicing your magic.”

A flush covered her cheeks, but she tried to shrug it off.

“Yeah, I’ve been practicing some with Mor, just to not be a total defenseless idiot, but…”

“You still feel uncomfortable,” he finished for her, another understanding smile in his lips.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Believe me, I get you,” and she knew he did, Rhys had told her before that he, too, couldn’t get a hold on his magic.

Then they said their final goodbyes, and Mareena sighed deeply, her chest filled with new emotions she didn’t know how to organize. Expectation, fear, uncertainty, emotion…too many of them. So, to distract herself a little from everything going on on her mind right now, she sat down on the again, pulled out a new piece of paper, and began writing a story about a little girl who had fled hell’s gates, and promised herself never to be afraid of it again.

#a court of gods and monsters #mareena x azriel #mareena oc #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oc #acomaf #acosf #acowar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #night court #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #cassian #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhysand sister #rhysand’s mother #illyrian #mor acotar

[aena-blue]

Manifestation - How I 'Cure' the Common Cold and How That Applies To Everything!

Hello everyone! It's been a minute but I am back with another post as I am feeling inspired today to write it! This post is about manifestation as per the teachings of Neville Goddard, Joseph Murphy, Florence Scovel Shinn and the like. This is not a post for beginners so if you are not familiar with the works of the above, this probably won't make much sense to you I'm afraid.

So on to the topic at hand. How I cure having the common cold and how this translates to essentially anything you want to manifest! This morning I was having dreams about being sick, having a cold, a sore throat, all of that. I woke up in the morning feeling tired AF and before you know it, I felt my throat sore and a fever.

Damnit, I thought. Sick again, another cold (or Covid that's making the rounds again!) and I quickly fell into the state of "being sick". I mean, of course I did, the symptoms were all there in my 3d!?

But then it hit me, that's just a state, that is just how I am identifying myself in this reality in this moment. But I know about the law of assumption, therefor I can change it. So I did. All it took was for me to decide that I am feeling just fine. That's it. I affirmed once "I am a beacon of health" and then I simply refused to pay attention to my illness and stopped identifying with it.

I got out of bed, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, made a morning coffee and then leaned back into my bed and before you knew it. I didn't feel sick anymore. I could still sense my illness vaguely in the background, it was still there, but it wasn't affecting me the same way it did as if I would have kept identifying myself as someone who was sick with a cold and a sore throat.

As the hours passed, it went away completely. I am typing this post in the evening of that same day and I feel perfectly fine, no sore throat, no fever, no tiredness, nothing. Simply because I took myself out of that state, refused to identify with it, refused to acknowledge it and refused to feed confirming thoughts and affirmations to it. I decided to feel just fine, so I feel just fine.

Now having a cold is just like occupying any state in your life, such as "I am poor", "I am single", "I am (whatever)". The difference being that we all pretty much accept that a cold is temporary, and thus, we usually let it 'run it's course', knowing that in 2-7 days, we will feel much better.

But a cold is not different from any other state you occupy. It is a temporary identification of self, and all states are. (or could be). What if you could know that being poor is just a temporary state? Or even better, what if you could decide, today, that it is no longer part of your identity?

See we tend to over complicate manifesting with techniques, but in reality, if you can get a grip on it, it's just about deciding who you are, in this very moment, 3D circumstances be damned.

I feel just fine, I am rich as hell, I am in an amazing loving relationship. Decide who you are, not who you want to be, what you ARE right now. Catch that feeling, accept it as your reality, and it will become your reality.

I hope this helped and if you want me to make a post on anything in particular, comment or send me an ask me (can be done anonymously!)

I now offer email coaching on my Etsy Shop for anyone who needs help, assistance, guidance or just a cheerleader for their manifestation journey.

You can email me or use the “ask me” function for anything that might be on your mind, or on your heart. I am here for you all, always. Please note that the Ask Me’s are only open for dream interpretation, general questions or advice at this time.

Please consider supporting my intention & affirmation art business in return for my time and energy by making a purchase or sharing my shop on any of your social media, every page click helps my business grow and I appreciate all of your support.

You can get a sticker for about $2 and if you make a purchase and send me an email to let me know what you bought I will happily give you a free 3 card reading for a question of your choice or 1 free email for manifestation coaching, regardless of the cost of your purchase! 🧡

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Much love and light to you all and to the universe 💛💜

~ Lady Blue 💙

#law of assumption #law of attraction #loa #lob #abraham hicks #neville goddard #joseph murphy #florence scovel shinn #believe #love #life #relationship #sp #specific person #advice #guidance #coaching #art #tarot #etsy #redbubble #aenablue #ladyblue #intention #focus #belief #health #healing

[reiketsunomizunomegami]

Hi lovely 💙

I have a request for our One Piece Monster Trio😊

Imagine they have a magical s/o (so no devil fruit but can use magic since they were born) and so they can't get sick but how would the three react when they faint suddenly in front of everyone because they used to much magic

Thank you in advance. 💙💙

Sorry if it takes a While to answer this Request💙

Hoped you Liked it💙

OP boys With a Magical s/o

Warning: Mentioned of Violence, Mention of Magic, Fainted Reader, Fluff in the End

Feat: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Monkey D. Luffy

-You're with him during the Fight with Douglas Bullet

-Honestly Luffy wasn't so worried at all because you always tells him that your fine and no one can take you down

-But Now it was Different. You've been protecting the others with your magic for about 30 minutes after you fought with Bullet and You felt a great Pain and Tiredness through your Body as if you just Wanted to take a break but you can't just do that because it might cause a severe problem towards the others so you hang on until the Fight was over

-After Luffy Successfully Defeated Douglas Bullet you decided to use your last strength to heal the others and after that it went all blacl

-Luffy Was in Shocked when sees that and immediately run towards you. He called Chopper out to check on you

-Chopper tells him that You only Fainted and will recover afterwards. Luffy will held you close Mumble to himself that you're going tobbe okay

Roranoa Zoro

-Zoro Actually always reminds you to be careful and Do not Overused your Magic even though you tell him that Your fine and that's nit gonna happen at all

-So You're here Using your Power to fight and drive those filthy Marinesl ships Away when Suddenly you felt dizzy and Fainted

-Zoro's Eyes Immediately laid on you and approach you to check on you

-He'll Call Chopper to Treat you up. And after a while and you woke up Zoro will Scold you and tells you to be more careful next time and you have to promise him that or else you wanted him to teach you how

Sanji Vinsmoke

-Like Zoro. Sanji will also Reminds you for Using your power too much

-He'll be so Worried even if you told him that you're fine and don't be so Anxious about your Safety

-Sanji doesn't care even if you're Born with that Certain Power because you still need to be careful at any cost

-And suddenly Sanji's Biggest Fear Happens. He sees you suddenly fell on the Ground after the Fight with Doflamingo

-Sanji Will Took you into his arms and Give Doflamingo a death glare

-He secures you and sets you down comfortably and gave your Bruised Forehead a Kiss. And after that Sanji Will be ready to avenge you

#One piece imagine #One piece canon #One piece x s/o #One piece x y/n #Monkey D. Luffy #Roranoa Zoro #Sanji Vinsmoke #Luffy x reader #Luffy x you #Zoro x reader #Zoro x you #Sanji x reader #Sanji x you #Reiketsunomizunomegami blog #Reiketsunomizunomegami writing #Reiketsunomizunomegami

[hotdsstuff]

So, here it is. Chapter 2. I don't like this one as much as the first one, but here it is. I really don't like this 😖 so tell me what you think pls 🥺.

The Way of Love

Chapter 2: Bitter Memories

Warnings: death, childhood trauma (just a bit)

Growing up, I was ever reminded of how different I am from others. I don't only mean the hair, sure, that is the most noticeable thing but I am talking of something more...misterious, lets say.

My mother made sure I never forgot how much of a miracle I was. She used to tell me how I am chosen for something. Again and again reminding me of how Eywa had blessed her with me, in a time of great sorrow. How the Atokirina had laid on me and blessed me during my birth ceremony. In another words, I was special.

But, I guess, you can't feel that much special with all the stares, the not so kind words and all the whispers. I was always protected because of my gifts, my so called 'powers'. I was sheltered from the world or rather the world was sheltered from me. But, even so, that didn't stop the stares and the way the Na'vi children had no care for their words and how much they could hurt someone.

It only got worse when my medicinal value started to finnaly flourish. I had the abbility to heal the sick and injured. Even though my mother was proud of all I was and could do, I couldn't help but wonder how odd it was that only I had this kind of abbilities. It didn't help how every time I would heal someone I would feel my body drain in complete tiredness.

But, at least, I was not alone in my life. I had the luck to have the two most beautiful and adorable sisters. Sylwanin and Neytiri.

Being their elder sister, I felt a bit responsible for them. I would say that I prevented them from killing themselves accindentadly, at least, a few dozen times.

Sylwanin usually wouldn't speak much around others. Around me and Tiri, though, she was different, she would talk about every plant and animal she would discover everyday in the forest and then take us to it so we could all three admire it. She was a gentle soul but had a fierce heart.

Neytiri, however, she was never afraid to voice her opinion in front of others, she would be no slave of shame and shyness, she would say. She was a free spirit, like a storm in her heart and madness in her veins.

When the first Sky People first arrived they were both very curious, seeing for the first time, beings that could walk and hunt like them but were different in the size, color, and shape. I, though, was wary of this. These beings had never existed on Pandora, until now. So, what are they doing here?

But, well, my warnings entered through one ear and flew through the other. I don't blame them, though, they were young, curious souls with an insatiable thirst for knowledge and answers. And, what could I do, aside from following and keeping an eye out for them?

As I said, I don't blame them, I blame myself for what happened.

Me and Neytiri had gone to Grace's school, a Sky People school, as we would usually do. The odd part was that Sylwanin was nowhere to be seen. We had been worried about her, because she and some warriors her age had been confronting my father about the attacks the Sky People had recently been landing around our forest. I had told her that there was nothing we could do but she said I would never understand.

Oh, she doesn't know how I could understand.

Every time, those humans would cut a tree or kill an animal a whole wave of pain would shoot through my body as if I was the one being stabbed.

In a rage, back then, I only turned my back on her and went away.

How I wish I could go back and hug her one last time.

As Grace was teaching us some more words, suddenly, Sylwanin, Tsu'tey and some others bursted through the door, covered in scratches and blood. They had set fire to a bulldozer. We were still processing what they had said when we heard a shot.

That moment will forever be imprinted on my mind.

I only saw Sylwanin paralise and fall to the ground, crouching her stomach as a crimson liquid started to flow through her fingers and pool on the ground. I quickly ran to her side, internally screaming how that had been stupid.

I tried to help her, I did...but it was not enough.

I felt Neytiri cling to my side as I saw tears leaving her eyes.

She was so afraid. So was I.

I tried to apply pressure to the wound and stabilyze the blood flow as I prayed to Eywa to heal my sister. But, I was young. A poor child desperate and in shock. I couldn't focus as I still heard the gunshots outside.

I looked again at Sylwanin, for reassurance, not only for her, but for me aswell. But...

Her eyes were already closed.

I felt the blood pool around my knees on the ground as I looked to my hands, bloody and red, and screamed, loud. Suddenly, shards of ice flew everywhere, silencing the guns. Only my screams and Neytiri's cries could be heard.

A few hours later, we were already in our tent, back at home. Facing mother and father would be our challenge.

As we entered, I could already hear mother crying. How much that sound hurt me, mere words cannot explain. She was crouched down on her knees as she hugged Sylwanin's body. Her body had been cleaned and was ready for her funeral but mother wasn't ready to let go.

But the worst was my father.

I tried to speak, but my voice was rough from all the screaming.

- Ma Sempul, I-

- Quiet, Aerin. I don't want to hear it. You brough shame to this family. And death. You were her older sister. It was your job to protect her.

- But,- - I cried.

- No. This could have been prevented. This is all your fault and now your sister is dead, Aerin. DEAD! - As those words left my father's mouth, I felt a pain inside of me.

In that moment, something in my chest broke so violently that I wondered how no one could have heard it.

I felt my ears lower and my eyes get wet again. But the tears wouldn't fall, I didn't have any more. My tail fell to ground and I stood there, numb. Whatever my father said next, I can't remember.

As Mo'at heard Eytukan's words, she also felt pity for her daughter. She already had so many responsabilities. Taking care of her sisters shouldn't have been one. She saw her daughter's tail fall to the ground and how she wouldn't look in her father's eyes. She knew in herself that that day, something changed in Aerin, something snapped.

Translations:

- Ma Sempul - My father

Tag list:

@eywas-heir

#avatar fanfiction #avatar #jake sully x reader #jake sully #neytiri #jake sully x oc

[fundielicious-simblr]

(Adalynn POV)

The first trimester is never fails to remind me that while motherhood is the ultimate blessing, there are times that require prayers of patience - with morning sickness lasting the entire day. The natural spacing of my pregnancies mean that by the time I have another baby, I've forgotten the tiredness and sickness that comes with pregnancy. The kids are great at being patient with me as I adjust to not being 100% all the time, the older boys have really stepped up with their chores and have recruited their younger brothers to help them. I of course to the cooking and the main cleaning, but the boys have almost demanded that they take care of their own laundry, so I've been overseeing the laundry process and teaching the boys about the separation of colours and the importance of doing so.

The boys have tried to get involved with the cooking, but I prefer to deal with it myself for now. Maybe once this baby comes then I can do basic cooking skills with Noah and maybe Luke, I was their age when I started learning the basics of cooking, so whilst they are boys I do think this is an important life skill to teach them as they grow up. For now, we're bridging the gap by me sitting down with the boys and we plan the meals that we'll eat as well as the snacks. The snacks are a lot more accessible to them, so hopefully this helps them feel more like they're helping.

My sisters Annette and Ashton came down and stayed with us for about a week, now that Ashton is done with school there's a lot more time in her schedule for her to come and see us. The boys love it whenever their aunts and uncles come see them, they spend extra time cleaning up around the house so that there's more time to focus on just being with their aunts/uncles. Mason does nightly devotions with the family before the boys go to sleep, we do it before the toddlers sleep since the older boys can be up a bit later. The older boys got to stay up a bit passed their bedtimes to chat with their aunts, though we did put them to bed so we could talk as adults.

The more children I have, the more I can appreciate getting some quiet time to myself. I like to 'put the kitchen to bed' and have it spotless for when I wake up the next morning, and depending on what is for breakfast I'll sometimes prep part/all of it beforehand. I've enjoyed needlepoint since I was a little girl, I do knit but needlepoint is just a different type of enjoyment. I've got a groupchat with Kyleigh, Macie, my mother, a few of my aunts, and some other ladies from my parents church in Newcrest, and between us we crochet, knit, embroider, and sew. We all send each other what we're working on an encourage each other to actually finish the projects we're starting.

#fundie sims #fundiesims #quiverfull sims #quiver full sims #collins family #collins legacy #sims 4 legacy #modest sims #homeschool sims #gen 3 #gen 4 #post #this pregnancy be whooping adalynn's ass #even in game she's struggling more with this one #those mods really do make for more realistic gameplay wow #the kids also do chores more autonomously because they want to win those llama award things #so its a win for everybody

[shattered-sparks]

(TF!Sun and TF!Moon belong to @madcatdaderpydrawer-blog​ ) Moon waited at the designated rendezvous spot. Sun and him out supply hunting, splitting up to cover more ground. Supplies in arms he waited for his brother to return from his own ventures. The sound of running caught the lunar animatronic’s attention. “Moon!!”  Sun screamed as he ran. Battered and bruised, oil seeping out from cracks. Moon disregarded whatever he was carrying. Dropping them to tend to his brother. “Sun! You okay?! What happened?!”  Sun grabbed onto Moon. His own sunny form making Moon’s tremble from how hard he was grasping.  “Mannequin!! I-It just suddenly jumped me! I-I got away but we gotta go, now!!”  Moon felt himself get pulled before the momentum left him. Sun’s frame turning into fuzz and static as his voice died out. The image fizzling out like tv static,  what once was fear turned into confusion before sinking into anger.  The animatronic lifted it’s scratched up faceplate. Eyes landing on a familiar burning orange. Gritting his teeth Moon barked.  “Thought I told you to piss off”  “Oh you did, I just don’t care”  Supernova laid on his back. Tree branches holding up the chaotic interloper as he didn’t meet Moon’s burning gaze. Checking his claws for any muck and grim. Though despite the display Nova’s face couldn’t hide the tiredness he felt.   Growl inside Moon’s voice box died down as he got a better look at the intruder. Something was off. Moon could feel it. This wasn’t like Nova, his illusions usually didn’t fade out like that.  “You’re.. acting weird”  Supernova tilted his eyes downwards, finally returning the gaze. the Lunar animatronic squinting at him. Questioning if this was some sort of trick.  “Haven’t been the most prosperous, Moonshine~”  The grin Supernova gave Moon was sharp. If he really felt like it he could change the tides of this conversation and have Moon tied by his feet, dangling upside down.  But nothing came from it. Making Moon even more suspicious. Before the words could leave him the conversation was interrupted.  “Moon?” Sun called out to him. This time less frantic. Sun’s image came into view as he held his own findings.  “Sun!”  Moon quickly ran over to his brother. The Lunar animatronic fretted and checked Sun of any injuries. Thankful there were no new ones.  Supernova simply rolled his eyes. Sneer hanging from his mouth at the display.  “What’s going on? Why are you so panicked??”  “The wasp came back”  Moon all but growled out the nickname. Teeth bared as his pupils went sharp. Sun immediately got the message. his faceplate going pale as he searched the tops of trees. Finally landing on Supernova.  “Oh That’s... That’s great”  The sarcasm that dripped off of Sun’s sentence wasn’t lost on Nova. Moon placing himself in front of Sun as some sort of barrier. Protective and ready for a fight.  “What do you want now?! Haven’t you done enough to us?”  Nova for once, broken his gaze. Eyes instead looking at nearby foliage. Gluttony, Blacky, and others have all been teaching Supernova about sympathy. Nova was going to have a word with them about it later.   “Got sent out here to feel better. It isn’t helping”  Moon all but smiled in glee.  “Yeah, maybe you wouldn’t be suffering if ya didn’t tormet the wrong people”  Supernova’s claws dug into his palm out of anger. He was getting sick and tired of this conversation. So instead he changed it.  “Actually isn’t that. Something much more out of my control. You would understand, surely~”  The combination of Nova’s sentence and head tilt all but clued the two animatronics in on what he meant.  “If you came all the way out here for help you aint getting it!” Sun yelled up to the trees. Ready to leave. Moon on the other hand. “You have a killcode don’t you”  Supernova clapped his hands as he smiled.  “Right on the money as always, Moonshine!”  Moon and Nova shared a silent knowing look to each other before Sun pulled his brother back. Supernova disappearing into the darkness of the trees. Leaving the two alone. Sun scoffed.  “Moon you can’t be seriously considering helping him!”  Sun questioned as Moon bent down to pick up the long forgetting supplies off the dirt floor. Moon’s red eyes flicked to Sun’s blue before returning back to what Moon was doing.  “Don’t worry Sunny, I’m not.”  Moon reassured Sun. Finishing, the two began their walk back to their campsite.  “It something we could use to our advantage though” 

#Written Paw Prints #Supernova #TF!Moon never learns #Always sceming things for Lord night

[cellarfulofnose]

Ashes, Ashes

College professor George AU, 1.6k, late 80s/Cloud 9 era.

It was Sean the T.A. who passed back their papers that morning, a black-haired boy with eyes like a rabbit. Melissa hoped he hadn’t been the one to grade them over winter vacation. He was a sharp kid, but he had notions. Visions. Without prompting, he’d claimed to be a witch, and he had intensely specific interpretations of the class syllabus that often resulted in grading disputes. The issue had made its way to Dr. Harrison’s desk only once, whereupon he dismissed the claim that Sean wasn’t fit for the office of Teaching Assistant and sent everybody home with an A-minus. Whispers of nepotism led Melissa to believe that Dr. Harrison had some sort of working relationship with the boy’s father; or—as she secretly suspected, though without evidence—his mother.

Sean handed back the last paper and took his seat in the front row. The Hair (as the professor was colloquially known, owing both to his name and his yesteryear’s shaggy cut) was conspicuously absent from the podium. Melissa cringed inwardly. If Dr. Harrison didn’t show, lecture responsibilities fell to Sean, in which event she really needn’t have bothered to run for her bus that morning. 

The mood in the lecture hall shifted from boredom to restlessness. People sighed, played with their pencils, murmured to each other. A girl in the front row leaned left to ask something of Sean. They were too far away for Melissa to hear the exchange, but Sean shook his head sharply and gave his quick response. Melissa looked at the clock.

When the door groaned open and Dr. Harrison breezed into the auditorium at last, a ripple of straightening rustled through the rows. Melissa felt her tiredness fade. She was operating on an obscene sleep deficit since New Year’s, but she couldn’t help attending to him. Everything about The Hair was interesting, down to his…well. Today’s ‘do looked shaggier than usual. He rarely shaved, and he certainly hadn’t now. He looked a year older, at least, but it suited him. Melissa tended to roll her eyes at comparisons of men to high-shelf whiskey aged in oak barrels, but if it ain’t broke…

Dr. Harrison chugged from a tall thermos cup. “Good morning.”

The good mornings in response were slightly muted. True, it was the day after New Year’s, and of those who had made it in, half were still hungover. But just as many seemed to be taken aback by Dr. Harrison’s gravelly voice. He spoke with a heavenly smoky rasp normally, and an out-of-town accent, such a gift to the ear that he never had to shout to be heard, even with his soft voice. Today the rasp sounded like nails, and he was speaking through a wall of congestion that distorted the very tune of his words. Plainly, he was sick. It sounded like the flu. Quite possibly the plague.

“Happy new year,” ventured one show-off.

Dr. Harrison cleared his throat, satisfied on the third try. “Happy new year. It might feel like no time has passed at all since we were together last. Or…” he coughed into a wool-jacketed sleeve, “not enough, anyway, those of you still trying to sleep off your champagne. But I can assure you the seasons are changing; case in point, the powers that be have delivered my semi-annual sinus infection.” He snuffled as if for emphasis, which seemed to invite another cough. He swiped at his nose, which was beginning to look pink, and continued. “For the scientifically minded—though if that’s you, I’m not sure what you’re doing in a comparative religion class—don’t worry, I am definitively not contagious.”

As Dr. Harrison dabbed at his nose with a balled-up tissue he’d produced from his sleeve, he cast his eyes around his audience. Melissa felt strangely horrified when they lighted on her. If possible, she didn’t want him to know she was watching. It seemed too private, too intimate. By the most amateur opinion, he should be in bed. She’d never dream of slinking into class in the state he was in, and just forget about teaching. Secondhand embarrassment, and the uneasy sense that they were witnessing something they shouldn’t, had her looking down, chewing her lip to avoid grimacing outright. Even avoiding his gaze felt wrong. She couldn’t stand the idea of him assuming she was just disgusted, selfishly preoccupied about getting sick.

“I can see some of you don’t buy that.” A smile was audible in his voice. Melissa dared not look. “O ye of little faith? Well, good. That’s who I want in my class—skeptics.”

Melissa had to smile. She felt brave enough to look at the red pen that scarred her essay. A sigh of relief—the handwriting was Dr. Harrison’s. Good intro, it said. Fine, but not very constructive. One or two silly grammar mistakes, borne of changing part of the sentence without properly deleting the old syntax. Her stomach ached. This was only the first page. Dr. Harrison recorded grades on the very last page, for reasons having to do with privacy and, as she’d come to learn, his dramatic streak.

“Who can tell me where we…”

Melissa thought she heard him gasp, and she looked up instinctively, just as she would alert to a sudden movement. She couldn’t make sense of what she saw at first, Dr. Harrison tugging on his lapel to pull the right breast of his jacket over his mouth and nose. That is, until he let out a soft sneeze into it, then another slightly less soft.

The lecture hall boiled with a hundred-odd students clamoring Bless you. Melissa couldn’t say it. She thought she might melt from the embarrassment.

“No, hang on, hang on,” Dr. Harrison gurgled. He sniffed and asked, “What do we say in here?”

“...Gesundheit,” came the guilty reply.

“That’s better.” After every phrase, Dr. Harrison blew his nose into a ball of sleeve-tissues. “Non-denominational. German, therefore—efficient.” 

Unable to look at his face, Melissa watched his hands. Even after tucking away his well-used tissues, he went on touching the podium, no hand sanitizer or anything. There was a true act of faith; his behavior did seem to indicate non-transmissibility. She looked again at his handwriting on her paper and wondered what else had touched it.

Dr. Harrison began the lecture, but not two sentences in, he ground to a halt. His gaze was somewhere in the middle distance, under a slight frown, as if he’d forgotten something.

He blinked and said in a level voice, “I’m going to sneeze again.”

A quiet giggle flew around the room. Dr. Harrison only fueled it by continuing. “When, you ask? That’s what I’d like to know too. I’ll…” Melissa thought she heard a catch in his voice, but he went on undaunted. “I’ll make an exception. A little teaching moment. Religious blessings okay. Has anybody got one?”

His hand drifted, scanning for volunteers. One or two hands went up. Dr. Harrison pointed at a girl in the middle. “Get it ready.” As before, the line earned a laugh, but this one was quiet, brief, followed quickly by rapt silence. The Hair was rushing his words, starting to squint. When Melissa saw his nose wrinkle, she looked away. She couldn’t imagine anything so mortifying. 

The silence gnawed. Melissa felt a drop of sweat roll down her side. Then he gave a faint exhale—no one moved—Melissa wished for a meteor.

“ahh-Choo!”

The lecture hall broke out in raucous applause. The girl said something but was drowned out.

Clutching his wad of tissues to his nose, Dr. Harrison motioned for everyone to hush. “What’s that?” He held his free hand to his ear.

“Alhamdulillah,” she repeated, a breathy lilt.

“Beautiful. Thank you.” Dr. Harrison drank deeply from his thermos cup. “But I’ll have to ask you to hold your applause until the very end. I promise you this performance is not over.” 

As he lectured, Melissa sought refuge in her essay. Where she had compared harvest myths to beliefs surrounding death, a big red bracket wrapped its claws around the paragraph. Next to it was written If you enjoy this I have a book for you to read. She tried to imagine him holding office hours in his current circumstances—then tried to quit imagining it.

“And with the cosmic ocean, we often see this—”

Dr. Harrison interrupted himself to sneeze twice, two quick bursts, which made it doubly impossible for Melissa to concentrate on her essay.

“Bless—” a freshman girl started to blurt, before censoring herself with an audible smack of hand over mouth.

Dr. Harrison made a waving gesture, conveying either wait or stop or don’t worry about it, too preoccupied with sneezing again to address her directly. “It’s all right,” he finally got out through a thick bundle of tissues, and blew his nose. “I’ll allow it. There’s great spiritual release in ritual chanting. Anybody got one? Shout ‘em out.”

A cacophony of multilingual blessings rattled the rafters. Dr. Harrison echoed each, pointing as he fielded them and tacking on a Thank you here and there.

“Bless you,” Melissa whispered, lost in the din. Her face felt scorched.

“All right. Business.” Dr. Harrison swallowed and his hand lifted to his throat, clearly unaware he was doing it. His voice was going. To say it would be gone by the end of lecture was a generous estimate. 

He sighed. “How long ‘ve we got left of this class, Sean?”

Sean consulted a pocket watch. “Hour and twenty-one minutes.”

Dr. Harrison turned his eyes heavenward. “Fuck.”

As laughter bubbled around her, Melissa lifted the corner of her paper to peek at the last page of her essay. Just a glimpse. A quick scratch of red writing. 

Her score had three digits. More was written beside it. 

Melissa flipped her paper upside-down on her desk, her heart pounding, and went hunting for a pen of her own. She'd decided to pay attention.

---

(If you're a fan of professor AUs, and George in particular, be sure to check out the Professor Harrison series by thecherrytrees on AO3. It's like a love letter to DILFy George and definitely got me on board with the premise.)

[singingshutin]

forever it is

Shutin's the name, self-indulgent's the game

I’m so sorry to anyone that's followed me for mp100 content I swear on Reigen's autobiography I’m still working on my longer-form fic for that!

My writing style is very stream-of-conscious-ness I apologize if it’s kind of twisty-

(The Byleth x Ignatz fics I read were all from his perspective, and I wanted to try it the other way around - though considering Byleth is who she is, that might be the reason why they’re all from his point of view lol)

no beta readers here the mortifying ordeal for being known hits only once

Read here on a03 or down below the cut!

Why hadn't Ignatz said anything?

Byleth squeezed her hand into a tight fist. All this - this days-long fever, these nights of misery - this could have been stopped if he had said he had been cut by a venin blade.

And why hadn’t she thought to ask?

Maybe he hadn’t known. What reason would he have to think he was poisoned when tiredness and aches were routine? Shivers could be attributed to the cold night air, and Byleth had long known Ignatz didn’t possess the strongest constitution-

Another harsh coughing fit racked the slight frame of the young man on the infirmary cot, and she dipped her cloth in the pot of gently steaming water beside her, swiping the warm rag across his damp forehead once more.

Ignatz looked so fragile without his glasses. Of course, Byleth knew her soft-spoken archer was thin - oh, to return to the days when she had put lunch as an item on his list of homework - but to see him now…

Goddess, the war had taken a toll.

Without the round steel frames obscuring half his face, she could see that features once delicate and soft were now pinched to a gaunt point by sparse rations. Dark circles hung heavy underneath closed eyes, his paper-white cheeks flushed with the week-long fever that just would not break.

The thing that hurt the worst, though - Byleth's solemn face burned at the selfishness of the thought - was the lack of a smile.

Ignatz always had a smile for her. It didn't matter whether he was sketching the forget-me-nots in the greenhouse, or embroiled in the middle of a sparring session with Leonie or Claude. She could see it so clearly, too - his pretty teeth blinking at her like a row of white stars, the front two ever just barely crooked in their slight overlap. One of his canines was sharper than the other - Byleth hadn't meant to startle him off his precarious wall perch all those years ago, she had just wanted a peek at his drawing. He had been so intently focused, hunched over the sketchbook in his lap like a mother hen over her clutch of eggs-

Byleth inhaled a sharp breath, catching herself in a tender smile.

That shouldn't be a fond memory. Even though he had assured her with frantic hand gestures that he was fine, even though he had thanked her with a grateful smile in his big brown eyes for the rudimentary patching up of his bleeding lip and chipped tooth, even though they had laughed about it together afterward - still, he had gotten hurt.

And she had been the cause.

Just like now.

Just like this time.

She should have told him to stop before. Told him to pay attention when he paused during training exercises. She should have- but she hadn’t.

Maybe if she hadn't been so selfish. Hadn't humored; hadn't nurtured the unfamiliar, dangerous pulsing in her chest at his sweet smiles-

Maybe he wouldn't be like this now.

Sick.

Unconscious.

Fighting for his life while the rest of her former students were fending off bandits on the outskirts of the monastery town.

And she was useless to help either.

Claude had told her to hang back. Said it would be nothing, that she should stay back with Ignatz. "Sorry to be blunt, Teach, but you'll just be in the way. If you can't focus-"

Byleth was yanked back to the present as Ignatz shivered - a much more violent tremble than the near-constant quivers of fever - and she squeezed his hand. Artist's hands, they were. Even with the callouses and scars left behind by this accursed war; they were slender and elegant, bony knuckles pressing into her palm as she did her best to fold his long fingers beneath her shorter ones.

Ignatz's hand twitched under the pressure.

"P-Professor…?" His voice cracked in a hoarse whisper.

"Oh, Sothis-"

Byleth tilted her head toward the sky, a silent stream of thank you’s pouring from her lips as a wave of gut-wrenching relief washed over her - her old friend had finally, finally answered her desperate prayers.

"Where- where are my glasses?"

A smile touched Byleth’s cheek with a flush of pink. Of course he was more concerned about his precious spectacles than his own health.

"Right here-” No metal frames met her fingers as she reached to the table beside his cot.

“Where-?”

“Ah-” Byleth rose from her chair. “They’re in your room, I’ll go get them-”

“Please… don’t go.”

Byleth stopped.

“Please…”

He blinked, unnaturally bright eyes confused and pleading.

Maybe the fever wasn’t gone, after all.

Byleth sat back down on the bed, settling down next to the shivering young man, running a gentle hand across his shoulder. All tension in his body evaporated at her touch and he sighed, head sinking to rest against her leg.

"Sorry," he murmured, fever-brilliant eyes already drooping shut once more, "selfish… to ask."

“Of course not. I'm going to stay. As long-" The words caught, tight and hot, in her throat: she couldn't. But if she didn't-

Byleth swallowed, hard. Never, not once before she had come to Garreg Mach, had the thought ever crossed her mind that feeling could hurt so badly. Only echoes of emotion had ever touched her cold, still heart: memories long lost to time of peace and war, of life and death, of grief and of love.

None of those had ever been her own.

This, however-

The Ashen Demon may have been a professor once upon a time, but the little herd of Golden Deer had taught her many things, too. They had taught her the brilliant ring of laughter and the aching pain of tears. They had taught her the tingling prick of annoyance, but also the chesty swelling of pride as she watched them change and grow from awkward fawns into brave stags and does - a strong group of men and women who would change the world for the better. And, on top of everything else, they had taught her what love felt like.

Love was multifaceted: living in faces, in words, in bonds between friends as strong as family.

And, in some cases, something more. Personal. Private. Exchanged in quiet glances, returned in small smiles and brushing of hand against hand. Hanging in the rustle of paper, the familiar scratch of a quill or pencil - and in crooked smiles with a chipped tooth.

This kind of love, Byleth knew, belonged to her and her alone. She couldn't guarantee the future. But if she always held her tongue, always kept a solemn face…

She took a breath and looked down at Ignatz, lying weak and shivering beside her. Her voice came out soft and tender- "...as long as you want me to."

"Good…" The faintest hint of a content smile kissed the corner of his lips, “...forever it is."

#fire emblem three houses #byleth eisner #ignatz victor #byleth x ignatz #he is my favorite guy and i feel so guilty every time he ends up getting poisoned #yeah status effects disappear after battle but thats only for gameplay purposes #i am feeling things #let me feel my things

[writerfae]

Hi! Sorry for blowing up your notificatons so much today (I'm just tired and having a lot of oc thoughts (yes, about the crossover, because apparently that's all I think about now, but I'm loving it so much, so I'm not complaining!)

First: I think Kara would like my ocs (she seems to like everybody who likes Aiden, so...) but she'd probably be mildly confused about them being able to fly *looks at Ákos* more or less.

Maybe she'd panic because:

If they can fly, why can't my hatchling fly? Did I not give him the proper diet? Has he been sick this whole time? Am I a bad mother? Henry, help! Our hatchling can't fly!

But she seems like she's smarter than to be the type to do thisXD

Also: something something Kara trying to teach Ákos how to fly❤️

Second: This is not really a cannon thing (partially because I don't think this is how sleeping works?), just an idea I like to think about sometimes, but I thought you'd be interested in it:

Google tells me that a kid Ákos's age needs 9-12 hours of sleep which he wasn't really getting for a month. And a month is a long time!

So after he gets home for a few weeks/months until he readjusts, his body's like: Okay! There's no danger! We can sleep!

So sometimes Ákos falls asleep randomly.

Add to this the (cannon) fact that Ákos always loves seeking out the most interesting (weirdest) nooks in a given place. (I love this detail about him. This is your cute Ákos fact for the weekend)

And imagine he falls asleep there❤️😭

But it's also sad, because imagine that they are just sitting around with Aiden and Talon, and one minute it's perfectly normal, not even a hint of tiredness, then the next Ákos is out like a light.

Hi! No need to be sorry at all! I’m happy you are having lots of oc thoughts (and that you include my ocs in it) especially since I myself barely have time for oc thoughts lately (sadly).

Kara being confused about your ocs flying and her worrying cause Aiden isn’t able to is so cute xD she would definitely try helping Ákos to learn to fly, she’d be like “oh, this baby bird needs flying help! Let me help you, child!”

This Ákos fact is once again adorable! Honestly, who’s to tell if Ákos body wouldn’t have that reaction when he’s finally save (also it’s your world so you can make it possible ^^)? It’s an interesting fact either way!

#writer speaks #writeblr

[having-trouble-feeling-feelings]

a midsummer night's dream

nov. 20th, 2023.

Life is a funny thing, right? because lately she's been really funny, to the point where she actually laughs in my face. the universe sees you wanting something and says: okay, I'll give you this but in the worst circumstances. and it was more or less in this context that on my second day of traveling to Rio de Janeiro I decided to go out at night to drink and experience a night of music and alcohol.

I had gone to Lapa with some friends, along the way we decided to stop at a bar to have caipirinhas, then we went in search of a minimally healthy place to continue the night. So, we found a place with an open bar for 50 reais. I don't know where you live, but here 50 is the price of admission, which kind of made this open bar practically free. For me, free alcohol is less of a blessing and more of a punishment, the kind that teaches you to learn to have limits, and life has already taught me that. What I'm trying to say is that drinking a lot of cheap drinks is a sure invitation to get sick and want to jump in head first the next day because of the hangover.

But the party was good and that's what matters. There was a drag DJ who was very interesting due to her ability to try to mix the most different songs possible, with each change of sound and interpolation it seemed like she was watching a mad scientist trying to mix water and oil in the force of hate. Maybe it was a setup to make people drink more, because that's what I had to do, pump alcohol into my body until I was able to turn off a large enough part of my brain to not notice the sound reaching my ears.

and in the midst of the alcohol and the 40 degree heat of an early Rio de Janeiro summer, he appeared on his way to the club's bathroom. It was that quick exchange of glances and I couldn't even say anything, but I had bad intentions just waiting for him to come back. until he came back and looked back at me too, which is more than enough of a sign for someone with a few glasses of caipirinha in their body.

I said hi to him and asked his name, we started dancing and… I'll spare you the rest of the details. at some point we went to the smoking room to talk, and that's how I discovered that he was an exchange student from London three months ago in Rio de Janeiro and 6 years younger than me. he was so beautiful… and it's in this context that I need to explain that I can't connect with many people, I rarely feel any chemistry with anyone but that man… in some alternate universe we could be a couple. The night ended when tiredness took over and we decided to leave, to go to his house.

I took his Instagram, but I didn't send him a message afterwards. How can I explain, in a century of casual sex, that my interest in him was to get to know him better? talk, maybe fall in love with the way things would unfold? and for what, since in two days I would be back in my city and never see him again?

I didn't send any messages, but I'm here writing this story. I will remember you as my midsummer night's dream, and you won't even know it. Maybe, from your point of view, I was just another Brazilian that you saw one night and then disappeared, at best someone who interested you more than even sent a message the next day. I understand.

I will try to carry this pleasant warmth in my chest of knowing that, perhaps in some reality, something else would happen, or has happened. that I wasn't a coward and decided to send a message, even if it was so we could experience the ephemerality of just another day. I want to believe that one day, or somewhere, I will learn to accept that I need to live one day at a time, and that this means enjoying and relating one day at a time. that perhaps the limited is also worthy of love, and that a summer love also has its value.

You were the beginning of a new reflection in my life, the first step towards accepting the ephemerality that is life.

#rio de janeiro #night date