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moontrinemars · 11 months ago

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TENTH LORD IN MARS NAKSHATRAS

Thanks for your patience in waiting for the next part of the series - I’m glad you guys are interested. As always, recorded for my own benefit, published for yours. General disclaimer is in my bio. Credit to KRSchannel for inspiring this post.

Find your 10th lord here, and find your 10th lord’s nakshatra here.

The 10th house rules our life’s honor. It represents the services we perform for society as well as the reputation we earn as a result. It is associated with the father and the career because traditionally, this is where both our standing in society and the role we performed in society would come from - inherited through the father’s family line. However, in our contemporary world, this isn’t always the case, which is why it’s important to know the grander themes at play.

The three Mars-ruled nakshatras are Mrigashira, Chitra, and Dhanistha.

Mars is a planetary object that represents motivation, force of will, and personal drive. It is the pursuit of pleasure and the incurring of wrath. While Venus rules earthly and rational matters, such as the aesthetic of beauty and the value of wealth, Mars rules our desires which are primal and sublime. He is impulse, passion, giving us strength and making us vulnerable simultaneously. He is also fear and terror. More than any traditional planet, Mars is tied to the cycle and the transformation of life and death, as the ruler of the 1st and 8th house. His impact is severe, earnest, and compelling, and is escaped by no one.

DO YOU HAVE YOUR 10TH LORD IN A MARS-RULED NAKSHATRA? THAT MEANS YOU…

Mick Jagger, Ryan Reynolds, and Bob Marley all have their tenth lords in Mars ruled nakshatras. Mick's is in Mrigashira, Ryan's is in Chitra, and Marley's is in Dhanistha.

… HAVE A PUBLIC PERSONA MOST SHAPED AND DEFINED BY YOUR IMPULSES, INDIVIDUALITY, AND INDEPENDENCE.

Those born with this placement usually find themselves at odds with the rest of society. Though they don't necessarily fail to fit in with the culture of their time, they tend to let their gut instincts dictate the way they engage with it and this results in distinct and memorable individuals who stand out from the crowd, and cause waves with just their personalities and the effect they have on others. Thus, they may be capable of contributing to massive culture shifts. However, they're also liable to let their impulses lead them to scandal and enmity.

Mars is a chthonic planet, and so it's no surprise we see it ruling the lord of the house of status and legacy in many of the most famous and widely mourned celebrities but that doesn't make this a death sentence for the influential. More than anything, fame in tangent with this placement signifies someone who inspires controversy, not with their choices or behaviors, but in their possessing fame at all. Other people will argue over the legitimacy of whatever talent, beauty, act, or positive attribute to which their fame is attributed. Their fame may be cyclical, as may be the public's support or enmity towards them.

MORE ON THE SPECIFICS OF MRIGASHIRA, CHITRA, AND DHANISTHA BELOW!

IF MRIGASHIRA RULES THE TENTH LORD, YOU…

Bette Davis, Lord Byron, and Milo Ventimiglia all have their tenth lords in Mrigashira. Others with this placement are Louis Lumiere, Prince Philip, Claudia Schiffer, Babe Ruth, Christopher Lee, and George Lucas.

Find yourself constantly searching within your professional and public spaces for something more fulfilling than what you have.

Throw yourself into your work, and are eager to learn whatever you can to develop and improve your craft, or your social standing.

Communicate articulately about responsibilities and projects, as well as political beliefs and social causes that are important to you.

Network and establish your personality easily, as your work and your society inspire you to engage in debate consistently.

Have an eye for major trends and business opportunities, and can capitalize on them just as they take off, leading the charge.

AND YOU MAY FIND…

Pursuit, stalking, or cheating might be a pattern at your workplace.

Quickness is the key trait that defines your reputation: in casting judgement, responding to a crisis, and haste to get desired results.

Your work has you spending time in recreation-friendly spaces: parks, street markets, town squares, playgrounds, your home, etc.

Sensitivity to your surroundings makes you adept at resolving immediate problems involving authorities or a formal setting.

Over-sensitivity, whether to sensory experiences, to tone, or to social graces, can lead to overreactions that confuse people.

MRIGASHIRA is the Searching Star. Industries and career types favored are those involving art, expression, navigation, earth, textiles, animals, trends, sales, advertising, agriculture, telecommunications, occult studies, crafts, research, drama, and travel.

IF CHITRA RULES THE TENTH LORD, YOU…

Mary Tyler Moore, Kim Kardashian, and Cher all have their tenth lords in Chitra. Others with this placement are Leonard Cohen, Mika, Diego Rivera, Bette Midler, Cesare Borgia, John Mayer, Leonardo Dicaprio, Paul Williams, Emily Dickinson, and Queen Elizabeth I.

Find it easy to engage with coworkers and members of the public as equals, both to yourself and to one another.

Experience the most professional and political epiphanies when everyone else is asleep, especially at three to four in the morning.

Strategize and organize your workspace as well as career and public events with ease and poise, to the satisfaction of all.

Can be stingy and thrifty with professional funding, and turn a critical eye upon those who insist on lax public spending, even if as an individual you practice generosity and charity.

May experience jealousy, or just suspicion, toward coworkers, public figures, or others in your field who remind you of yourself.

AND YOU MAY FIND…

Legacies play a role in the way that your workplace or public persona operates, such as becoming or gaining an apprentice, but you may find it hard to get on with those who inherit your position.

Bright colors, flowers, and natural beauty dominate your place of work, or settings with these attributes empower you publicly.

Others treat you with dignity and respect your aesthetic potential, even following your lead with the way you dress for events.

A quick temper and sensitivity to presentation inspires you to challenge the views or choices of others preemptively.

Intense procrastination hinders you in moments of specific importance.

CHITRA is the Star of Opportunity. Industries and career types favored are those involving aesthetics, communication, specialized expertise, design, dynamics, narrative, creative production, quality inspection, force of personality, precision, and reconstruction.

IF DHANISTHA RULES THE TENTH LORD…

Billie Joe Armstrong, Paris Hilton, and Lauren Bacall all have their tenth lords in Dhanistha. Others with this placement are Carl Sagan, Greta Garbo, Walt Whitman, Antony Armstrong-Jones, King Louis XV, Anna May Wong, Sarah Hyland, Charles Manson, and Liza Goddard.

Are capable of making highly insightful observations about society due to your keen perception and intimate understanding of power.

Had aspirations and politics shaped by a pragmatic altruism from a young age, perhaps in response to a parent or authority figure.

Feel uncomfortable in and experience adversity from business partnerships, and any relationships which are too public-facing.

Attract status and fame, seek positions of dignity, and approach tasks with a sincere desire to produce something of high quality.

Have no qualms about lying to or manipulating others in order to get what you want - and there is a great deal that you want.

AND YOU MAY FIND…

Even accomplishments celebrated in the public sector or by your industry feel hollow to you; the answer may lie in volunteer work.

Gender discrimination affects your workplace, status, or politics.

Popularity among certain demographics and subcultures: namely, the wealthy, the young, the politically liberal, and the creative field.

Any siblings can be of aid to your career and public image, but associating with extended relations may be detrimental to either.

Your experiences with honor or power - that of your own or that of others - affect you on a deep, even spiritual, level.

DHANISTHA is the Star of Symphony. Industries and career types favored are those involving music, timing, rhythm, quality inspection, physical performance, group coordination, property, strategy, math and science, poetry, spirituality, creativity, engineering, and charity.

HOPE THIS WAS HELPFUL. AMOUNT OF REQUESTS MEANS WE’RE GOING OUT OF ORDER, BUT WE WILL ABSOLUTELY RETURN TO THE OTHERS LATER. FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE WITH QUESTIONS, THOUGHTS, OR IDEAS. PART 5 WILL FOCUS ON JUPITER-RULED 10TH LORD NAKSHATRAS NEXT! ♡

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sp0o0kylights · 7 months ago

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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds.

Still.

Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’

Nope.

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”

Likely a lot of things.

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”

Wayne nodded once, slow-like.

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”

“I did.”

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.

Wayne took advantage.

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”

“‘Bout trust.”

Eddie blinked at that.

“Trust.” He echoed flatly.

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.

Wayne sat with him as he processed.

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;

“What if he finds out?”

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.

It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’

“He won’t.” Wayne said.

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.

Hurt, absolutely, but alive.

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.

“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

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