#hurt!dan

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Emotional Hurt/Comfort Masterlist

Links Last Checked: January 16th, 2024

antisocialites watch a wilting flower (ao3) - throughtheirsnoses (det395)

Summary: Phil's an emotionally attached and loving vet and Dan's the drained receptionist with no dreams at the animal shelter who reconnect over the poor, hurt puppy dropped off. Dan's boyfriend is their boss.

Closer To Where I Started (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: An onstage accident at a convention leads to a week of stress, nightmares, and evaluating life choices for Dan and Phil.

Daddy Phil (ao3) - ReederJoe

Summary: A day in the life of little!Dan and daddy!Phil. One-shot from Phil's POV.

Grounded (ao3) - AmazingFrerard

Summary: Dan only wanted Maltesers... how did it go so wrong in such little time? Can Phil help him before it's too late?

Heaven And Hell (Phan Fluff) (ao3) - thegirlwholikestowrite

Summary: Dan has a nightmare, Phil sleeps with him. Its light angst with fluff. They get deep and romantic.

Handle With Care (ao3) - DisasterSoundtrack

Summary: "Sticking to one person for a lifetime is not a waste of time or lack of better ones, it means you’ve found your place of eternity."

Phil reminisces about moments that made him realize how much he cares for Dan.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways (ao3) - outphan

Summary: Dan is feeling insecure, so Phil decides to show him that he is perfect.

Let The Salt Dry (ao3) - dandrogynous

Summary: “When I look at my old pictures, all I can see is what I used to be but am no longer. I think: What I can see is what I am not.”

- Aleksandar Hemon

2009 except Dan is a trans boy

Like A Shibe (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: After TATINOF, Phil's feeling insecure about how fans think of him compared to how they think of Dan. Why didn't he ever get to be drawn like a French girl in the stage show? Dan's always the sexy one. Dan tries to reassure him.

My Shipwrecked Heart (ao3) - outphan

Summary: After his heart gets broken, Dan Howell decides to chase one of his dreams: he enters a competition to go on a Mediterranean cruise! It comes true and along the way, something even better happens.

restless (ao3) - overwhelmedbysonder

Summary: Breathe. Just breathe.

In. Out. In. Out. In.

It’s not that I don’t try. I see my family, my friends, visiting with their faked smiles and forced laughter, desperately trying to pretend that things are fine, that nothing’s changed. I see them and I want to reach out, I want to look at them and smile and reassure them that I’m here and I’m fine and I’m here, but I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

Or, the one where Phil struggles with depression, PTSD and being mute, and Dan just wants to hug him.

Rise Again (ao3) - ColdPorridge22

Summary: Sequel to Phoenix Down. Can be read as a standalone, if you're not into the angst fest that was Phoenix Down.

After the events of Phoenix Down, the boys are home and they've just gotten together. Phil is still healing from his injuries, but that's not stopping the relationship from getting more and more physical as they explore this new side of them. And then of course, there's the issue of coming out...

Shut Your Mouth and Listen Closely (ao3) - SimplyUndead

Summary: Dan is mute with an unfortunate past. Phil is a nice boy with a warm heart and love to give.

Six Ravens (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: Dan meets Prince Philip at a cyberbullying campaign, but what starts as a working relationship grows complicated when Dan realizes he’s falling for the prince and maybe, just maybe, he’s not alone in his feelings.

the water might be lovely (ao3) - isleofbants

Summary: Dan, utterly fed up with uni, runs away to the Isle of Man.

Seeking escape, he gets more than he bargained for when he rents a room out from happy-go-lucky, recent grad, Phil Lester.

Trust Me, I’m Broken Too (ao3) - natigail

Summary: The Lesters – the royal family of his homeland – was nothing like Dan thought they would be. Well, the King was just as horrible as he had heard but the King’s brother’s son, who was third in line for the throne, was nothing like Dan thought he’d be. Dan had been adrift for three years going from one “place of employment” to another, only his life was seen as worthless and he was more property than an employee. He had never imagined he’s end up as the property of Prince Philip.

The Prince had no intention of ever taking on a personal servant, which was a fancy name to disguise the fact a law essentially enslaved people. Phil often had to do things he didn’t want to or risk being removed from the succession to the crown. If that happened, who knew who his tyrant of an uncle would pick as a successor? When pressured into the choosing, he’d wanted to go for the most innocent, young girl, but hard brown eyes caught his attention instead.

Vacations, Hypochondriacs and a Little Bit of PTSD (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: Neither Dan or Phil saw this weekend as one to worry about. Dan was a great driver, even though he never really got a chance to show it, and when he asked their good friend Cat to borrow her car for a few days after Vidcon, of course, she trusted him with the keys.

wikihow to stop a divorce (ao3) - ivorycastle

Summary: Dan has finally shown that he's too difficult to love, and seldom to keep Phil inspired amidst the cold break that legally split the two flames apart. This house lease binds the two obnoxiously tight to each other like wild grapevines. Maybe this will grow over if the universe allows it to.

[siffroncrocus]

hermitshipping / trafficshipping

(info under the cut)

ddvau

au made by @xmaruu11 @kitsuneisi

heart forecast/kokoroyohou by eve

editing by me :3c

[startears0153]

☾ Seeing you cry in your sleep

How they react to finding you crying silently in your sleep.

☾ Characters: Argenti, Blade, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio

☾ Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, GN Reader, StellaronHunter!Reader in Blade's, Ratio (affectionately) calling you fool in his part

Might write a 2nd part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha (and maybe Sampo) in the future :)

Argenti

Upon entering your shared cottage, Argenti finds you sleeping on the chair by the window. They must’ve fallen asleep while admiring the scenery of the falling snow outside, Argenti thought with a fond smile. 

For a moment, Argenti found himself unable to move, for his emerald colored eyes were transfixed upon the serene beauty of the scene before him. The falling snow, the white winter wonderland serving as the perfect backdrop to accentuate the beauty of your resting figure.

Still, he realized it probably wouldn’t do well if you were to fall sick from the cold. So, he quietly made his way through the room and draped a blanket over your figure. 

That was when he noticed the presence of tears on the corners of your eyes. 

For a while, Argenti thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until he saw a lone tear fall from your eye that he was finally hit by the fact that you were, indeed, crying in your sleep. 

His heart ached upon the sight and he instinctively reached to cup your cheek; his thumb gently caressing the corner of your eye, wiping away the stream of tears that began to fall like tender snow. 

After some deliberation on how to proceed, Argenti would kneel before your sleeping figure before carefully stirring you awake with a gentle squeeze to your hand and softly calling out your name. 

“Good morning my dear,” He would greet you with a tender smile, though you could easily sense the twinge of sadness and melancholia lingering in his voice. “I apologize if this may sound unpleasant to you but … you were crying in your sleep. Is … Is everything alright?” 

He would fret over you, but he would try to keep it to a minimum lest he were to accidentally do more harm than good. He was obviously worried about what ailed you, but again, what mattered most to him was your comfort. 

Regardless of whether you choose to speak of the reason for your tears, Argenti would remain by your side, kneeling before you as he held your hand in his. 

If he could, he would do anything in his power to vanquish the reason behind your tears. He never wants you to shed tears, neither in sleep or wake, ever again.

Blade

It was almost time for the opening act of Elio’s Script. Blade comes to searches for you in the meeting spot, and finds you asleep above one of the many wooden crates of the abandoned factory. 

How carefree, Blade thought with a scoff. Even so, Blade’s heart blossoms with warmth, that very same warmth that is born from his affection and adoration for you and all your silly antics. 

If he could, he would let you rest for longer and perhaps even join you in your restful slumber, resting your head on his shoulder. But alas, the Script takes priority and it was almost time to begin. 

So he reaches to shake your shoulder … but then froze upon the sight of tears falling from your eyes. 

Blade has never been one for tears. In a different life, perhaps, he would have been. But tears have no meaning for Blade. Crying does not provide one with salvation, no matter how much one cries, what was lost could never return. 

And yet, the sight of your tears shook him to his core. 

Blade didn’t know what to do. What could he do anyway? Reach for your face and wipe away your tears with his thumb? Lean towards you and kiss the corners of your eyes, all in hopes for your tears to stop cascading from your eyes? How ridiculous. As though that would solve any of your problems. 

So, he does what he is supposed to. Grab your shoulder and gently shake you awake. 

“Wake up. It’s almost time to begin.” He says brusquely, already turning around for his back to face you. “Wipe your tears. Don’t let the enemy see even a single hint of weakness.” 

You would be shocked upon realizing you were crying in your sleep and hurriedly wiped away the remains of your tears. Not soon after, you join him by the ledge of the building, watching over the city with puffy eyes. Blade would steal a glance at you and then he would say, 

“Do not be hasty. I am with you.”

You didn’t need to try hard to know that he wasn’t just talking about the battle ahead.

Dan Heng

The hour was late when Den Heng jolted awake from his sleep. He dreamt of a vague memory of his past incarnation and saw a nightmare where his friends were swept away by the waves; of you disappearing in the dark sea of clouds. 

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dan Heng takes a moment to recompose himself before shifting to rest on his side, thus meeting the familiar sight of your back. They’re here, Dan Heng thought to himself, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It’s all just a dream. 

Not wanting to wake you, Dan Heng simply stares at your back. The steadiness of your breathing, a reminder that you are alive. Gingerly, Dan Heng reaches to subtly trace soothing lines on your back. Truth be told, it was probably more soothing for him than you. 

Then suddenly, there was a slight change in the pattern of your breathing. More feeble and erratic. Concerned that he might have woken you up, Dan Heng pushed himself up to check on your condition … 

… Only to find you crying in your sleep. 

Upon the sight of your tears, falling so steadily onto the fabric of your already damp pillow, Dan Heng’s breath hitches. He shakes your shoulders, calling your name again and again until your eyes open and meet his pairs of jaded blue. 

“You’re crying.” He said bluntly, his brows furrowed as a tell-tale sign of his bleeding concern for you. “What? No, I’m fine. Yes, I woke up because of a nightmare but I’m more concerned for you.” 

The two of you would both end up sitting on the bed, both fretting over each other’s condition. You asked Dan Heng about his nightmare and he would reply that it was the usual. He asked you about your tears, and you replied you didn’t even know you were crying until Dan Heng pointed it out. 

In the end, the both of you would end up embracing each other tightly, providing both comfort and strength to one another. You both wind up laying on the bed in each other’s arms. 

Dan Heng would stay awake for a while after you’ve fallen asleep, gazing at your resting figure in hopes that he would never have to see you cry in your sleep once more.  

Dr. Ratio

After a long day full of shameful displays of stupidity from the people around him, Dr. Veritas Ratio was done for the day and is free to visit his beloved. I cannot wait to see them, Ratio thought as he made large strides towards your office. It has been far too long since I’ve had an intellectually stimulating conversation!

He thinks of all the topics he could talk with you, ranging from the most mundane things such as how each other’s days went and the more complex like the discourse regarding a recent hot theory. 

Imagine his disappointment when he enters your office and finds you dead asleep on your desk. 

Frowning, Ratio rationalizes that you were probably just as exhausted as he was and that there were plenty of chances for conversation when the two of you have rested up. Still. He was disappointed. 

He walked towards your desk and took a moment to observe your resting figure. You were sleeping above your paper reports. Now that’s a lark. But then, he noticed something else. 

Your papers were soaked, all from the tears that were still cascading from your eyes. 

Upon the sight of your tears, Ratio’s heart seemingly ceased to beat. There was shock, confusion, concern and all these strong emotions that meld with one another. In a rare moment of panic, Ratio shook you awake, forcing you away from your stained papers. 

“You fool, just what do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, worry bleeding through his tone. “Don’t ‘What the hell, Veritas’ me! You’re the one crying on your reports and making them unreadable!” 

You would be confused until you realize that you were crying in your sleep. You touched the lingering wetness on your cheeks and laughed feebly. It was probably the pent up stress, you offered weakly, annoying Ratio once more. 

You expect a lecture, but unexpectedly, Ratio places hand behind your head, brings you to rest against his broad shoulder. 

“You are a fool for ruining those reports. If you must cry … cry on my shoulder instead.” 

It was a silly attempt at cheering you up, but you appreciated it all the same. 

Hehe this was a super fun prompt to write! Might write a second part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha when I feel the inspiration hitting me 👀

Also still semi-working on banners ... sigh, lets hope I find a good theme soon enough.

Thank you for reading 💖

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 ~

⟢ One-shot Danny Phantom — Genre: Angst / Hurt — TW: Emotional Distress — Rating: T — AU? — First Person’s POV

———————

There he was—there it was.

My reflection stared back, the green glow of my eyes erratic, flickering like a faulty lightbulb. I wasn’t just looking at myself—I was looking through myself, and I hated what I saw. Not just the face staring back, but the endless spiral behind it—pulling me deeper into some unknowable abyss.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the battle. That one battle. Not with a ghost, not with some lurking threat—but with myself.

The dark part of… me.

The part that had escaped.

Again.

I’d won, of course—I had to believe that. I was the good side of myself, wasn’t I?

The hero.

But winning didn’t feel like triumph. It felt like a delay. Some whispers of the future lingering behind me, leaning over my shoulders, suffocating me with their burden.

I was afraid of becoming him.

That dangerous, older me. That monstrous version of myself that had been waiting all along.

All the—what ifs—it claws at the edges of my thoughts, unraveling my already frayed mind.

What if I couldn’t stop it? What if I was already becoming that monster? What if it was inevitable?

I stared deeper into the mirror, my fists tightening until my nails bit into my palms through my white gloves. I thought about my family, my friends—the people who had always been there. I’d already pushed them away, hadn’t I?

Maybe they aren’t even my friends anymore. Maybe I don’t deserve them.

Sam and Tucker had gone to college, following their dreams like normal people. Jazz was too busy carving her own path to stay. And me? I had stayed behind in the crumbling town I couldn’t abandon, giving up my dream of going to space. Protecting people was my purpose now. At least, that’s what I told myself. But deep down, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Was it a noble choice—or a coward’s excuse?

You could still go. You could leave. You could be an astronaut. Fly into space. Fulfill the dream. Your dream.

But it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing ever would.

I gritted my teeth, my reflection rippling in the glass like a warped painting.

Happy thoughts, I told myself. But they didn’t come. They never did anymore. It was always easier to sink into the darker ones, to let them drag myself down into the undertow.

The mocking voices of ghosts, the weight of battles fought and won—none of it mattered in the face of the gnawing feeling in my chest.

My core.

It purred softly, a dissonant hum, both comforting and sinister.

It felt… so freaking wrong.

As if it didn’t belong to me anymore. As if Phantom—him was bleeding into me, hollowing me out from the inside.

My breath hitched. My fingers trembled as I gripped the edges of the sink. My eyes clenched shut, but it didn’t block out the image of myself—the warped, flickering, monstrous reflection staring back. I felt like a glass that was about to shatter, cracks spidering across my soul.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

I punched my palms tighter until the pain jolted me back. But the ache in my chest was worse. Phantom wasn’t just part of me. Phantom was me.

My breath staggered in my throat—a sob trembling on the edge of release. My knuckles ached, my chest burned, and that pressure—that suffocating pressure—kept building on.

“Get out of my head!” I screamed, my voice raw, ripping through the suffocating silence.

The sound reverberated in the tiny room, crashing into the walls and returning to me like a ghostly echo. My reflection flickered again—glowing red of Phantom’s eyes overtaking my own for the briefest moment before fading back into green.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Leave me alone!” I shouted again, this time so forcefully that my throat hurt, as though I was tearing myself apart. The sound cracked into a wail—an uncontrollable, heart-shattering release.

Green tears left cold trails down my cheeks as I screamed again, and again, and again… until the room seemed to quake.

The mirror shattered.

Shards exploded outward, raining onto the counter, the floor, my arms. A jagged piece nicked my cheek, drawing a thin line of green that dripped down onto my trembling hand.

I didn’t care.

My reflection was gone—splintered into a thousand fractured pieces scattered at my feet.

My knees buckled, and I barely caught myself against the sink. My hands shivered, slipping on the porcelain.

I sank to the floor, my back pressed against the cold tile, knees pulled to my chest. My hands tangled in my snow-white hair as sobs wracked my body. Every shuddering breath felt like it might break me further.

The shards of glass caught the dim light, a kaleidoscope of chaos surrounding me, reflecting parts of me I couldn’t escape from.

I clutched my chest, my core still purring that discordant frequency—like a faint, mocking laugh echoing from deep within.

“I’m scared,” I whispered to—no one. My voice cracked. “I don’t want to become… him.”

My words dissolved into another sob as I curled tighter, the shattered mirror fragments glinting like stars against the dark void I felt, pulling me under.

“I will never turn into you.”

———————

Okay. First time I drew Dan. I was scared. Scared of those eyes. Those eyes that pierced the whole time into mine—no, through mine. I should’ve waited with his eyes until the end, but of course, I didn’t.

———————

⟢ You can find my Phan fics here.

[aventurineswife]

HEYYYYYYY if I can may I ask for Aventurine, Sunday and Dan Hang protecting reader when they get badly injured protecting them please ( I’ve been desperate for some angst and comfort recently with them 😭😭 )

“If I Fall, Let It Be for You”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Protectiveness, Sacrifice, Vulnerability, Emotional Conflict, Guilt, Platonic or Romantic Love, Selflessness, Inner Struggles.

Warnings: Graphic injury, Blood, Violence, Desperation, Guilt, Emotional distress, Death-related themes.

A/N: Hope you like this!! 🫣

The battlefield stretched before you, a blur of smoke and chaos. You had acted on instinct—throwing yourself in front of Dan Heng to block a strike meant for him. The blade tore through your side, pain radiating through your body as you stumbled.

“[Name]!” Dan Heng’s voice, usually so calm and composed, cracked as he caught you in his arms. His eyes widened, a rare display of emotion breaking through his stoic mask.

You gave him a weak smile, your hand clutching the bleeding wound. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

His jaw tightened, and his grip on you was firm yet trembling. “You should never have done that.” There was an edge to his voice, sharp and laden with guilt.

You tried to speak, but the pain was overwhelming. Darkness crept at the edges of your vision, and you felt yourself fading.

“Stay with me,” Dan Heng ordered, his voice softer now but no less desperate. He cradled you closer, his usually steady hands pressing against your wound to stem the bleeding. “You can’t leave me. Not like this.”

He carried you swiftly to a safe spot behind the ruins, shielding you from the chaos. His spear, Cloud-Piercer, stood guard nearby, its sharp tip still dripping with the blood of your enemies. Dan Heng tore a strip of fabric from his coat, fashioning a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding.

“Why?” he asked quietly, his gaze fixed on your pale face. “Why would you put yourself in harm’s way for me?”

You managed a weak chuckle despite the pain. “Because I care about you, Dan Heng. Even if you keep pushing people away, I won’t stop protecting you.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, his usual reserve cracked. “I don’t deserve it. Not after everything I’ve done… everything I’ve failed to prevent.”

“You’re wrong,” you whispered, your hand reaching up to brush against his cheek. “You’re worth it to me.”

Dan Heng’s eyes softened, guilt and sorrow mingling with something deeper—something he had tried so hard to suppress. He didn’t speak, but his actions spoke volumes. He leaned into your touch, his fingers brushing your hair as if trying to commit every detail of you to memory.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, his voice low but resolute. “Not again.”

Dan Heng stayed by your side, his spear within reach, ready to defend you from any further threat. The battle raged on around you, but his focus never wavered. He wasn’t just protecting you now—he was protecting the fragile hope you had given him, the chance for something beyond the weight of his past.

And in his quiet way, Dan Heng vowed to repay the trust you had shown him, no matter the cost.

The echoes of the gunfire still reverberated in the empty corridors, a cruel reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. Aventurine stood frozen for a moment, the world around him slowing to a crawl. The usually confident smirk plastered on his face had vanished, replaced by a rare expression of raw, unfiltered fear.

You lay crumpled on the ground, your blood pooling beneath you. You had thrown yourself in front of him, a human shield against the sniper's bullet that had been meant for his chest.

“Why?” Aventurine whispered, his voice trembling as he knelt beside you, his gloved hands hesitating before pressing against your wound. His pristine, gold-adorned sleeves soaked in crimson as he tried to stem the bleeding. "You absolute fool. What were you thinking?"

Your eyes fluttered open, a weak smile playing on your lips despite the pain. "Because I knew you'd never let yourself be hit," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're too important... too smart to take risks like that."

Aventurine let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded more like a sob. "And yet here you are, bleeding out because of me," he muttered, his tone laced with guilt and frustration. "You're supposed to stay out of the crossfire, not throw yourself into it like some kind of martyr."

The mask he wore so effortlessly in high-stakes games and political negotiations shattered in that moment. He was no longer the composed strategist, the man who always had a plan. He was just Kakavasha—terrified, helpless, and desperate to keep you alive.

“Stay with me,” he commanded, his voice shaking as he pulled out his communicator and barked orders for immediate medical assistance. “You don’t get to leave like this. Not here, not now.”

Your hand weakly reached up, brushing against his cheek. "I trust you, Aventurine," you whispered, your voice faltering. "You'll fix this... you always do."

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I’m a gambler, not a miracle worker," he admitted softly, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. "But if there’s one thing I never bet against... it’s you."

The minutes felt like hours as he stayed by your side, murmuring reassurances that neither of you believed. His mind raced, calculating odds and outcomes, but none of his usual strategies could guarantee your survival. For the first time in years, Aventurine felt powerless.

When the medics finally arrived, he refused to leave your side, riding with you to the emergency unit despite their protests. As the doors closed behind them and the sterile lights flickered above, Aventurine made a silent vow.

No matter the cost, he would ensure you lived to see another gamble, another day by his side. Because without you, even victory would feel like defeat.

The clash of blades and the sound of explosions filled the air, but Sunday’s focus was solely on you. The two of you had been ambushed, and though he had held his ground, one stray attacker had slipped through his defenses, aiming for his unprotected flank.

You hadn’t hesitated. You’d stepped in without thinking, intercepting the blow meant for him. Now, you lay slumped against a ruined wall, clutching your side as blood seeped through your fingers.

“Why... why would you do that?” Sunday asked, his voice trembling as he knelt beside you. His eyes, usually so calm and composed, were wide with panic. He pressed his hands over yours, trying to stop the bleeding. The glow of his halo seemed dimmer, as if it mirrored the dread coursing through him.

“You needed protecting,” you gasped, a weak smile crossing your lips. “That’s what friends do, right?”

“Foolish,” Sunday whispered, his tone a mixture of frustration and anguish. "I am the one who should be protecting you." He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gloved hands trembling. “You shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”

Your hand reached for his, squeezing weakly. "You’re worth it."

Sunday’s breath hitched, and for a moment, his dignified mask crumbled. "No one is worth losing you," he admitted, his voice barely audible. “Not even me.”

The world around the two of you seemed to fade away as Sunday focused solely on keeping you conscious. He whispered soft reassurances, his usually formal tone replaced with a raw, desperate plea. “Stay with me,” he urged. “I’ll fix this. I swear it.”

Using his limited healing abilities, Sunday poured his energy into stabilizing you. The effort left him visibly drained, his face pale and his breaths labored, but he refused to stop. "I’ve seen too much suffering," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "I won’t allow it to claim you."

As reinforcements arrived and medical aid was administered, Sunday stood by your side, his presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos. When you were finally safe, he let out a shaky breath, brushing his thumb across your knuckles.

"You risked yourself for me," he said quietly, his eyes softening. “But know this: I will never allow you to come to harm again. You are too precious to lose.”

In that moment, you saw a side of Sunday he rarely revealed—a man burdened by the weight of his ideals, yet willing to fight against them for the sake of someone he cherished.

[an-internet-introvert]

Countdown to October 19th (14/19)

The Phouse

[festivesoggy]

angel and a nun :3

[bitchslapblastoids]

hi so sorry but where the fuck did this picture emerge from?

god this is like. this could be a pic of me and some pals in college. yknow? phil was just a sweet wonderful weird lil dude with his group of queer friends who loved him! and who made weird wacky art with him! and I get emotional about the fact that he was not only raised by but also seems to have consistently found people who celebrated who he is and around whom he didn’t have to stifle his personality and I know I’m reading a lot into a single picture but!! look at him!!!

edit to add: lolllll his friend’s shirt says “it ain’t gonna suck itself!” in impact font; how very of its time

(source for where I saw this idk where the f this came from originally)

[r3nblade]

stupid

[bluerosefox]

"Daddy! Mommy's is having Ellie!"

Everyone in the Batfam knows Jason keeps secrets.

Secrets he'd take to his grave a second time if he had to.

But to think one of those secrets would be about the fact he had a secret family.

And the only reason the Batfam found out was because apparently their secret (grand)daughter/sister-in-law Jazz/Jasmine was in labor and their (great)grandson/nephews Danny (Daniel) and Dan (Dante) called him while on a Red Hood job with the rest of the Batfam to panicky tell him their baby sister Ellie was on the way early.

Red Hood books it away from the fam to his bike while asking to put Kori or Roy on the phone.

Oh boy.

[citricacidprince]

okok your version of relativity falls is perfect and mends every issue i had with the au, and I was thinking about the portal scene. imagine mabel and dipper staring at each other after dipper steps through the portal, and to ease the awkwardness, mabel kinda lifts her arms and goes "awkward sibling hug?" And instead dipper positively tackles her to the ground in a hug.

is this anything. im a sucker for those two loving their sibling so much

I know I literally just drew a different request of Mabel and Dipper reuniting with a big hug but I can’t help myself!!! I love these two too much!!! 💥💥💥

[0nlyhere4phil]

i love when his northern accent just pops out

[diphowell]

moments where dan and phil were just engrossed in watching their past selves on screen

[theellipelli]

Worst encounter of my LIFE

[reunitedinterlude]

countdown to phil’s 38th bday - a year in review [9/30]

when your tummy hurts 💔

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Sunday, Sampo, Dan Heng being sick and reader taking care of them?

In Sickness and in Care

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Can be read Romantically or Platonically, Emotional Healing, Soft Moment, Fluff, Caretaking, Comfort, Sickfic.

Warnings: Emotional Vulnerability, Illness/Sick, Possible Spoilers (?)

[Part 2]

Aventurine rarely allowed weakness to show, but tonight was different. His usually vibrant eyes were dimmed, his hair damp with sweat as he slumped in the couch. The peacock-feather earring swayed as he groaned softly, gripping his forehead.

"Darling, there’s no need to fuss," he said with a weak smile as you pressed a cool cloth to his forehead. "I’ve faced worse odds."

"You're burning up, Aven," you said firmly, pulling his hand away as he tried to wave off your care. "And stop calling this a ‘bet with fate.’ You need rest."

Aventurine chuckled lightly, the sound raspy. "You know me too well. But I must say, having you as my nurse might make this wager worth losing."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, placing a bowl of soup on the table beside him. As you tucked him into bed with surprising gentleness, he gazed up at you, the faintest trace of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Thank you..." he murmured, his voice soft and uncharacteristically genuine.

Sunday was the picture of poise, even as he lay weakened on the couch. His eyes, usually sharp and commanding, were dulled by exhaustion. His hair clung to his forehead as he turned to you with a faint smile.

"I apologize for troubling you," he said, his tone as dignified as ever despite his flushed cheeks.

"Troubling me? Sunday, you’ve taken care of an entire family for years," you said, adjusting his scarf. "The least I can do is take care of you."

He sighed, leaning back as you placed a hand against his forehead. The fever was high, but his gaze softened as you worked.

"Your kindness reminds me why I started all of this," he said quietly. "Though I still think my dream is the best way to spare humanity from suffering..."

You pressed a glass of water into his hand, interrupting his monologue. "Save the philosophy for when you’re better, dreamer. Right now, just let me take care of you."

For once, Sunday didn’t argue.

Sampo was a terrible patient.

"I’m fine! Really, I’ve dealt with worse—ow, okay, maybe not!" he yelped as you pressed a hand to his forehead.

"You're burning up, Sampo. Sit down and let me help you, or I swear I’ll tie you to this chair."

He blinked, his eyes wide. "You’d tie me up? Kinda bold, don’t you think?"

"Sampo."

"Right, right. Sick. Staying still. Got it." He grinned sheepishly, allowing you to press a cold compress to his forehead.

As you worked, his usual sly charm dimmed, replaced by an unusual sincerity.

"You’re... really good at this." he said quietly.

"Taking care of you?" you teased, tucking him into the blanket he kept trying to escape.

"No, just... being there for someone like me," he admitted, his voice softer than usual. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

Dan Heng lay silently in his bunk(?) aboard the Astral Express, his breathing shallow and uneven. His usually stoic demeanor was cracked by the fever that flushed his cheeks.

"You didn’t have to stay..." he murmured as you carefully wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Of course I did," you said firmly. "You’re always looking out for everyone else. Let someone take care of you for once."

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes fluttering open.

"I’m not used to this," he admitted. "Being cared for."

"Then consider this practice," you said with a soft smile, adjusting the blanket over him.

He studied you, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. "You’re... kind. I’ll try to rest, if it will make you worry less."

"Good," you said, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "I’ll be here if you need anything."

As his breathing evened out, you stayed by his side, watching over him as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.