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steddieasitgoes · 1 year

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It’s Mother’s Day 1973 and Steve’s mom isn’t home.

Instead of spending the day with her only son, she’s left to follow her husband on his latest business trip. Steve doesn’t remember where she’s going, just that she promised to bring him back a snow globe for his collection. The one that sits on the highest shelf the bookcase in his room — collecting dust.

He’s been pawned off to his nanny again. Poor Ms. Anderson who has put her own middle-aged life on hold to raise a kid whose not hers. Steve’s not stupid. He knows his parents pay her well to take care of him, but he still wishes she’d tell them off. At least, put up a fight, so she didn’t have to spend all her weekends with him.

Usually the duo stay cooped up in the Harrington’s House. Ms. Anderson will cook him a nice meal and they’ll spend the afternoon playing games or watching movies. She’ll fall asleep early in the movie and Steve will disappear to play with his toys or snoop through his parents things to try to figure out where they’ve gone this time.

Today’s different though.

It’s Mother’s Day, after all.

Today, Ms. Anderson has taken him to Roane Hill Cemetery. She lets him hold a massive bouquet of pink carnations as she gathers a picnic blanket and basket from the back of her car.

“What are we doing here?” Steve asks, struggling to keep pace with Ms. Andersons determined steps.

“Visiting my mom.”

“But isn’t she…” Steve doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Yeah,” she says, spreading out the blanket next to a small gravestone. “But just because someone’s gone doesn’t mean they’re out of our lives. Coming here makes me feel connected to her.”

Steve doesn’t understand that.

How can Ms. Anderson feel connected to her dead mom if she can’t even look at her? He doesn’t even feel connected to his own mom when she’s in the same room as him.

Maybe it’s a girl thing, he thinks.

Steve sits down quietly, after that. Ms. Anderson clearly needs this visit and Steve’s not going to interfere with her plans. Not when said plans get him out of the house for the first time in a week. So he sits and listens to Ms. Anderson talk to the headstone. Watches as she digs out a small flower pot in the ground to place the flowers in.

It’s only when she ducks her head in a prayer that Steve decides to explore.

“Don’t go too far,” she warns. “And be mindful of others!”

The cemetery is full of older people. Some sit on blankets like Ms. Anderson with gorgeous flowers and picnic baskets full of food, ready to spend hours with their departed mothers. Others, stay for a few minutes. Set down flowers and tap headstones before ducking their heads while retreating to their cars.

There’s laughter and tears and Steve doesn’t know how to feel about all of it, except lonely.

He wishes there was someone his age around here.

Steve ventures deeper into the cemetery, where the trees are taller and fuller. Older, Steve thinks. It’s through a small clearing that he spots a boy about his age sitting in front of a headstone. An older man stands behind him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He’s too far away to know for sure, but he’s pretty sure the boy is talking to the headstone. Head tilted forward, shoulders hiccuping up and down like the boy is crying. Steve wonders who he could be visiting. Certainly not his mom, right? He’s much too young to not have a mom — Steve should know.

He watches as the little boy leans forward and kisses the headstone and Steve realizes it must be.

Steve must make a sound, a gasp or a small cry because the boy and the older man’s head whip around in his direction. He’s still too far away to hear, but he can tell the man is telling the boy something. Whispering in his ear before nodding his head in Steve’s direction.

He should leave. Ms. Anderson is probably done with her prayer now and she’ll be worried if he’s not back soon, but he can’t leave. Not when he spots the little boy trudging through the tall grass towards him.

“Are you lost?” the boy asks.

Steve shakes his head.

“What are you doing all the way out here then?”

Steve shrugs. “Was that… were you talking to your mom?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, looking over his shoulder. “Uncle Wayne says it’s good to come talk to her ‘cause she gets lonely too. Are you here for your mom?”

“Oh no,” Steve says. “My mom is, well she’s not here but—”

“Do you want to help me?” Eddie asks, before Steve can finish it. “Wayne wants me to go find a yellow flower in the field over there. It’s so big I could use some help.”

“Sure!” Steve says, happy to finally have someone his age to talk to. “But why yellow?”

“It’s my mom’s favorite color!” Eddie smiles. “She said, she always felt like the sun was touching her when she wore it. It was her happy color.”

Years later, when Steve and Eddie have reconnected and they’re going through Steve’s closet to find items to donate, Eddie will ask Steve why he has so many yellow sweaters.

“It makes me feel like the sun, warm and happy,” Steve says, smiling softly. “I used to wrap myself in yellow whenever my parents left me home alone.”

And it’s then and only then do the two of them realize they met long before they crossed paths in the halls of Hawkins High and even longer before portals to hell-like dimensions open.

#this is dumb but the idea kept nagging me #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things ficlet #cw parental death #cw death #dani writes

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gabessquishytum · 25 days

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CW: past child abuse, past parricide

Special inspector Hob Gadling hates his job. Well, it's actually not true - he loves his job, but today specifically, he hates it. First, he was hoping for a bonus, and now he got assigned to a years-old cold case 'just to ensure that no new details emerged, and the investigation needs not to be reopened.' Second, he'll have to deal with some filthy rich weirdos.

Destiny Endless is a top-tier consulting risk manager, his services costing more than Hob's yearly paycheck. Death is the founder of a successful chain of funeral homes - after all, people always die, and rumor has it that Death is the best in her line of work. Dream is a famous writer who's able to write it all: whatever genre he sets his eyes - and pen - on, the book becomes a bestseller. Desire Endless is a porn star; the only mention of their name makes armies of fans go hard, wet, and horny. Despair founded a pharmaceutical corporation and revolutionized the world by introducing new, highly effective antidepressants. Destruction seems like the only normal person in that fucked-up family of masterminds: he had made a career in the military and then fucked off to travel the world. Last but not least, there is Delirium, an artist. Personally, Hob thinks that one needs to be constantly high to come up with such colors and forms, but hey, it's not him who's paid six figures to install some mind fuckery in amusement parks, so he doesn't get to judge.

Hob wouldn't come close to any of these freaks, but he has to verify that nothing was missed during the investigation, and so, here he goes. Mama and Papa of the Endless disappeared almost twenty years ago with no trace. Their bodies were never found, and there was no evidence of foul play. They just vanished into thin air, voilà. It was presumed that they had got bored, bought themselves new personalities, and left to live someplace else. To Hob, this seems strange yet plausible: looking at their kids, it's obvious that insanity runs in the family.

Still, Hob shows up to do his job, examine old records, and talk once again with all the Endless heirs. All goes very smoothly - there's nothing suspicious, all the kids' testimonies match. Hob would gladly close the check, but there is one tiny problem: he fell head over heels in love with Dream. Now in his thirties, he's unconventionally beautiful, insanely talented, and he's got Hob wrapped around his slender finger. Dream keeps his distance at first, but eventually, they begin dating. Hob finally closes the check for good - it's as clear as day that Endless parents must be chilling on some private island - and plunges into the relationship with Dream, learning him from the other side, as someone vulnerable, insecure, and kind-hearted. There's only one strange thing: Dream is inexperienced in bed for his age, and he's always somewhat tense during sex. Hob tries to talk to him, but Dream shuts the conversation down. Hob guiltily googles his bf and finds out that despite his high profile, there are no mentions of his exes in the media. At all.

Hob is puzzled, but it all falls into place when, one night, his lover has a nightmare. Hob wakes up from his screams and, with horror, realizes that this is more than a nightmare - it's a memory. He wakes Dream up and holds him while he cries. On the periphery of his mind, Dream's screams and pleas create a terrifying story of the siblings being abused by their parents for years.

'You killed them together, didn't you? Each of you thought you were the only one who suffered and thus kept the others safe. But once you all learned the truth…' Hob whispers into Dream's hair and holds him tighter. 'It's alright, my sweetling. I'd have killed them myself for you if they had been still alive.'

They stay like that through the night. In the morning, Hob makes Dream breakfast like nothing happened and goes to work. He's got no reason to worry about the case ever being reopened: there's no evidence, and he's determined to be the only one who sleeps by Dream's side till the end and holds him through his dreams and nightmares.

I love this so much. Poor, poor Dream. And the rest of the siblings too!

Hob doesn't want to draw further attention to the case of course, but he does all he can at work to make sure that files are carelessly "lost" or at least buried so deep in the archive no one will find it for a century. It even occurs him to frame someone else for the crime to make sure that the siblings are thoroughly safe, but... its better left forgotten. God knows Hob will spend the rest of his career making sure that no one ever goes sniffing around the Endless siblings ever again.

What's more he'll spend the rest of his life helping Dream in his recovery. He makes sure that he has private, confidential access to resources that a survivor should have - none of the siblings ever told anyone about the abuse or went to therapy because they're terrified to look like they had a "motive" to get rid of their parents. Hob changes that. He persuades as many of the siblings as he can to visit trusted therapists. Not all of them go for it, but at least someone is finally advocating for them and offering a little bit of support.

Hob loves Dream most of all of course, but he considers all the siblings as his family. He hates what happened to them. He can't fix it. But he can protect and love them as they deserve. Maybe all of them can finally breathe a little easier, with a friend on their side.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw child abuse #cw parental death #cw murder #cw trauma

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bakvrue · 5 months

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the things we don't do

izuku x reader

cw: DEATH, PARENTAL DEATH, hospice mentions, sadness, me projecting onto izuku, very very sad, grief, feeling of loss, depression, anxiety, sad (again), wc 1.2k, header by @/cafekitsune

It's been either a few minutes or a few hours. Izuku can't tell.

He sits on your couch taking a break from the room that has stolen his attention away for the past few days.

A spare room turned into a makeshift hospital. Bottles of liquid medicine easy to administer as well as adult briefs, wet wipes, cleaning supplies, and a small booklet about the process of dying sit neatly organized on a table.

Everything you need to take care of a dying parent.

It didn't sneak up on her, Inko's age and a myriad of health complications have been accumulating over the years, but that doesn't make the pain of losing someone easier; the pain of losing your mom any easier.

Izuku looks at the clock, counting the hours to make sure that he has the dosing times right, and closes his eyes. Never once did he think that he would suddenly be in charge of administering morphine, but he would do anything just to make his mom feel less pain.

He walks through the kitchen trying to remember what last he ate before shaking his head, he's not hungry anyways, and heads back to Inko's room.

He moved a comfortable chair from your living room into this makeshift hospital room so that he could at least sit more comfortably, so he makes himself at home.

It's been five days since she was brought home, and two days since she has uttered a word or opened her eyes. He can hear her soft snores over the sound of the movie he put on, one that she always put on for him when he was a kid.

He can see her now laughing at her favorite part, singing along to the music, doing that silly little dance she always did. It hurts him to look over at her now, but he does because soon he won't be able to ever again.

He holds her hand as he watches the movie with her, occasionally sending out texts to friends and family members giving them updates. He's not sure how much more he can update them since there's not much happening.

The woman in the movie jumps off of a roof onto a paper lantern zipline as fireworks explode indicating that the movie is just about over. Izuku kisses his mother's hand and sets it down gently on the bed.

There's a few minutes before the next round of medicine, just enough time to clean up the room a little bit.

The raisable hospital table that she no longer can use is converted into the supply storage and his new desk for sorting medicine. The wipes are stacked from largest to smallest in the corner, the paper towels and latex gloves finding their home next to them. A small vase of flowers is moved next to a new larger vase just delivered today, all that's left is some trash on the bedside table.

That's when he sees it.

They say that it's the smallest things that break you, and he supposes that's true now.

Wrapped up in its wrapper is half of an eaten lollipop.

He remembers the last day she was conscious he found this lollipop hiding in his pantry. It's a special one you could only find in certain shops, its chalky consistency reminding him of summer days during his childhood when Inko would eat these when she got home from work.

He had excitedly ran to her room to show her his find, and she had made excited grabby hands for it, even though her mind was slipping she remembered the joy of her favorite treat.

Izuku watched her that day enjoying the treat, until she got halfway done with it.

"Let's save the rest for later, okay Mom?"

She pouted at him but agreed, "Later."

He had wanted to be able to give it to her later, to use it as a reward for having some soup for dinner. A little treat to brighten her again.

But he didn't know that would be the last day she would ever speak to him.

Izuku looks at the lollipop again and feels sick to his stomach. He covers his eyes and walks out of the room. It feels wrong breaking down in front of the one person you wish could comfort you but can't.

He goes back to the living room with tears blurring his vision, pacing before he decides to sit.

Of course he did this, of course he took away this one comfort from her and didn't let her finish it.

His head falls into his hands, and sobs escape him as he lets himself fall farther into this feeling. He's drowning in his own thoughts.

He took away her happiness, just like every time before when he had told her no. When he said no to fast food. When he said no to this trip, or to getting that puppy, or any other things that she asked for. Every "No" rushes into his head.

His throat is raw, and he can barely breathe, he doesn't care. What does it matter when the person who cheered for him the hardest is beyond repair? What does an optimist do when their spirit finally gets broken?

He thinks about the lollipop again, and another choked sobs breaks through him.

Izuku doesn't hear your keys turn the lock as you enter your home, two large grocery bags in hand, but you can hear him. You set down all your things as quickly as possible and then set out to find him.

And what you find breaks your heart. He's folded over his knees, sobs making his shoulders shake as you quickly run to envelope him. Taking whatever weights he needs off his shoulders.

He wraps his arms around you and cries into your shoulder. He's so grateful for you, more than you could ever know at that moment.

When he's quieted down, he holds you tighter. "Do you want to know what that was about?"

You nod, "Yeah, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I do." He sniffles and wipes his tears on your shirt. "I took her happiness away from her… why couldn't I just give her what she wanted?"

Izuku can feel the tears rising up again and his lower lip starts to wobble as he continues.

"I never let her do anything, why didn't I just let her?"

"Oh, Izuku," you hold him tighter and he does the same.

"I never stopped to get her food, I never took her to do things, I couldn't even let her finish a stupid lollipop."

Your presence calms him, just having you next to him lets him hear how all of this really sounds out loud, but it still hurts him.

You pull back from his embrace so you can wipe the tears from his face. Salt steaks layered over freckles wiped away by your thumbs.

You press your forehead against his, "You tried to do what was best for her. You didn't stop for fast food because you wanted her to eat healthier, you didn't take her to do crazy things like horseback riding, you didn't get her a puppy because it would have been your puppy. You're a good son Izuku."

Izuku's lip quivers as he pulls himself into you again. He takes a deep breath as tears roll down his cheek once again.

He hears your words, he knows they're true, but god does it still hurt.

His phone alarm goes off from Inko's room telling him that it's time to give her meds. He kisses your shoulder and stands up, heading back to his mom.

#izuku x reader #deku x reader #💕.izuku #cw parental death #cw death

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kkpwnall · 7 months

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if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all

part one | rated t | 1270 words | cw: parental death

all my thanks and love to my beloved @fragilecapric0rnn for beta-reading 💜 you're a rockstar and your feedback was so so helpful

Eddie was born under a bad sign. That’s what his momma always used to say. Friday the 13th, and in October? He never really stood a chance and neither did anyone else he got close to. He was like a black cat walking across their path.

[ keep reading below, or read on ao3 ]

His momma was first, of course. Cursed by the fate of Eddie’s birth from the very beginning. And if he hadn’t dawdled on the way home from school that day, if he had gone straight home just like he’d promised, if he hadn’t stopped to pick a bouquet of ditch weed wildflowers for her and got distracted by caterpillars and rollie-pollies— Well, maybe he would’ve been able to tell the 911 operator she was still breathing when he found her.

His daddy was next, not much long after. Eddie worshiped him like a hero in one of his fantasy stories, the charming, devil-may-care, down on his luck protagonist who stole from the rich and gave to the needy. But the first time Floyd brought him out on a real job, just the two of them, when all Eddie had to do was hot wire the getaway car after he heard the signal (three hoots like a barn owl), Eddie panicked. Did he say barn owl or barred owl? Was that two hoots or three? Why did the wires all look the same in the dark?

When the police cars painted him in their flashing red and blue lights, he dropped the wire cutters and ran. Floyd went down in a hail of bullets behind the car Eddie had been trying to steal, and Wayne got his own life sentence when the State dropped Eddie on his doorstep.

Uncle Wayne got the worst of it, obviously. Working himself to the bone, nights and weekends, to put Eddie through school. Not to mention senior year for a second and third goddamn time.

It was too late by the time young Eddie figured it out. By the time he decided to keep everyone at arm’s length.

It’s safer that way, for everyone.

Chrissy was just the latest in a long line. And he’d only lowered his guard an inch, a millimeter, when he saw someone just as lonely and desperate for a friend. He’d only barely started to let himself have an inkling of what an actual friendship with her might be like when—

This is exactly why Eddie doesn’t have friends. He has minions. He has little lost sheepies, he has twerps and shrimps. And that’s it. That’s enough. It has to be enough.

But all that changes the day he dies.

Or maybe it’s the day he finally wakes up. His new birthday, welcomed to the world once again in a cold, bright, sterile hospital room.

And really, the way he sees it, it’s all Henderson’s fault.

The little shit wanders in every day at visiting hours and makes himself right at home. He props his cast up on Eddie’s bed, and steals the remote to change the channel on the ancient, minuscule tv over to cartoons, and then he just… camps out! All day!

The kid will not leave him alone, no matter how cold a shoulder Eddie tries to give him. He even broke down and explained everything to him. How he’s bad luck, he’s bad news. And people who get too close to him end up dead.

But maybe the painkillers they’ve got him on scrambled his brain as bad as the bats scrambled his guts, because Dustin steamrolls right over him.

“If curses were real, which they aren’t,” he posits in his professor voice, “Your dumb curse can’t try to kill me again. It already took a shot and it missed, and the worst I got was a busted ankle.”

Eddie opens his mouth to tell Dustin that’s not how curses work but—

“And what was its goal anyway? To get you alone and friendless, dead in a ditch? Well then, mission accomplished!”

Which is… weirdly comforting when he puts it like that.

Dustin brings with him a rotating cast of the rest of the fellowship. Eddie finally gets to meet Baby Byers and finds out he’s already been recruited to Hellfire before Eddie can even say hello.

More often than not, Steve tags along too since he’s already ferrying them all between the hospital and home. Usually after he’s spent some time with Red and the other kids in her room, he’ll drop by. To check on Dustin of course.

It’s not because he likes Eddie. Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t even know him.

All that… before… it was just some harmless flirting to keep himself from completely losing it while he was on the run from homicidal bible-thumpers. And Steve was just humoring him.

So he hides behind stupid flirtatious remarks, easy to brush off when it’s always undercut with sly winks and salacious expressions. Enough to keep everything surface level. Keep him at arms length.

It doesn’t matter that his eyes still seem to linger on Eddie, even when he hasn’t said anything for a while. Or that he brings Eddie extra pudding cups from the cafeteria. It doesn’t mean anything when he stands in the doorway trying to finish one last story or joke, until the kids almost literally have to drag him out when visiting hours are over.

Because it turns out Steve is an incorrigible gossip. And Eddie’s not about to be the one to corrige him. Not when he brings an extra dr. pepper for Eddie every time he stops by the vending machine for a coke and gleefully tells Eddie which of the doctors, nurses, and shady government agents are sleeping together.

A can of coke he taps on the lid with a peculiar rhythm before he cracks it, every time.

“What’s up with that?” Eddie finally has to ask one day, when it’s just the two of them and the Price is Right.

Steve hums this confused little sound at him, tilting his head with furrowed brows as he takes the first sip.

Eddie repeats the pattern, tapping it out on his own can.

Steve blinks a few times, first at Eddie, then at the can in his hand.

“I didn’t even realize I did that,” he huffs out a laugh. “It’s uh… something my grandpa taught me when I was a kid. Y’know just for luck.”

The blood in Eddie’s veins freezes and he’s stuck like that for a painfully long moment. Propped up against the lumpy hospital pillows with his mouth half open, staring at Steve.

“For luck.” he says flatly.

“Yeah, so the fizz doesn’t explode when you open it.”

“And has that ever happened to you?” Aiming for flirty, aiming for scathing, aiming for anything that’s not desperation.

“Well no,” Steve says with an easy shrug and a conspiratorial smile, “that’s why it’s lucky. It’s like picking up a coin that’s face-down on the sidewalk.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s face-up, darlin,” Eddie says coyly, like every alarm bell in his head isn’t ringing a deafening cacophony.

“Nah see, you gotta leave those ones for someone who really needs the luck.”

“But then you get the bad luck.”

“Nah, doesn’t work that way,” Steve says, and fucking winks at him.

Eddie wants to shake him. What is wrong with him? He’s got it all backwards and it’s dangerous. How is he walking around like this?

Whatever, it’s not his problem. Steve can do whatever Steve wants. Eddie doesn’t need to protect him from himself. It’s not like they’re friends. And really, that’s the best way to protect him.

[ part two ]

[ also on ao3 ]

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dericbindel · 8 months

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I'm fucked

So, after something of a spat with my dad, I got this text from him.

I have been going through intense depression the past 2 years, still recovering from an abusive relationship and a former friend who took advantage of my hospitality and fought with my ex nearly weekly. I escaped that, and then was saddled with caring for my mom in her last year of life before she passed from cancer. I have no idea what to do, where to go, but uh, if you can spare anything to support me, or have ideas fro where I can go from here, please help me.

My kofi: https://ko-fi.com/dericbindel

I HAVE SET UP A GOFUNDME: https://gofund.me/2deb64b8

SHARE THE LINKED POST HERE THAT HAS MORE INFO

#cw parental abuse #cw parental death #I'm so fucking scared #I'm cutting him out of my life after this #he is such a piece of shit who only cares about his new GF

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pileofpawns · 5 months

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I really wonder why Kyborg often talks about and heavily mourns Crystalena but literally never brings up his dad specifically. Was his dad a bad parent? Does Kyborg just remember his mom better? Did Blaine forget that Kyborg has a dad? I have so many questions.

#plum rambles #tales from the stinky dragon #stinkydragonpod #stinky dragon pod #kyborg #kyborg the mighty #crystalena #cw parental death #Blaine: “everyone has daddy issues except for me #sir your father is dead

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lilyrizzy · 1 year

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Prompt: you can try to go home, but it will never feel the same

anon i know you probably wanted some daniel returning to redbull angst with this one, but i am nothing if not diaspointing lol, so have a self absorbed 'in that iron ground' sequal i wrote instead.

cw: parental death, angst, speculation on what it means to be the 'biological' parent or not of a child

“Here you are.”

Max’s voice comes from behind him, but Daniel doesn’t turn from where he’s watching the gentle rise and fall of their daughter’s chest, the way the colourful lights from the mobile dance across her face in the darkened room.

“I’ve read they decided those types are bad for babies now,” Michelle had told him earlier, in that critical, been there, done that parent way, with just a healthy dose of big sister smugness thrown in, as she’d watched him attach it to the crib. It’s so old. Daniel wonders if it wasn’t the same one he slept in.

Like father, like daughter.

“I thought you had got lost on your way from the bathroom.”

Daniel still doesn’t look up, but he hears the telltale ‘click,’ of Max switching off the baby monitor. Daniel has joked, more than once, about how Max had it surgically attached to his hip 6 months ago, when she first came into their world. Red-faced, and kicking, and the best decision they ever made.

He comes to stand beside Daniel.

Everybody else is downstairs. It’s past ten but even the kids are still up. Izzy is ‘waiting for Santa,’ and Isaac is shooting Daniel eye-rolls over her head, as though to prove he’s a grown-up because now he knows the truth. Max has been quizzing Michelle endlessly on the pro’s and con’s of different milk warming systems, and his mum has been sat listening with her new boyfriend—Tim’s—hand on her knee, and Daniel just-

He just needed a minute.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not wanting to disturb Emilia, though anyone would know she was Max’s daughter by her ability to sleep through an earthquake alone, “I just-“

“Wanted a moment?” Max supplies, because of course he knows when it comes to his family.

Daniel nods. Emilia makes a little noise, a groan, like she’s thinking about protesting their loving stares, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“It’s weird,” Daniel eventually gets out. “Coming home, and there’s another man sitting with my mum on the couch.”

But it’s not even about that, not really. Tim is nice, he makes his mum laugh and Michelle tells him regularly over the phone, “she’s really happy, Daniel. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile so much since dad.” He shakes Daniel’s hand and asks him about his new job with the Redbull junior team, and when his mum sent Emilia her first party dress in the post, she had signed his name right next to ‘grandma’ on the card.

Besides, if Daniel ever- He’d want Max to find somebody else too. Even if the idea of it makes Daniel sick to his stomach, makes him want to do something crazy like tattoo his name onto Max’s chest, the thought of him being alone forever is worse.

Max’s hand comes to cup the back of his neck, to rub his thumb over the muscle that he knows aches more these days than it used to.

“When my mum got her first boyfriend, I did not like it also,” he admits, though it doesn’t sound like a feeling he is shying away from. “I know it is not the same, but I think always it is strange to see your mum with somebody else."

It is, but maybe what’s stranger is the way it took Daniel getting to the ranch for him to realise that his dad wouldn’t be here for his daughter’s first Christmas. He’d spent the first evening looking helplessly around the dinner table at everybodys faces, foolishly stunned to learn that the sudden life of her couldn’t raise his father from the ground.

“Sometimes I still have to remember,” he admits, because it suddenly feels too shameful to keep a secret. “That he’s- That my dad is dead.”

He forces the words past his teeth, eyes fixed on the slight purse of Emilia’s lips. It’s something he’s been practicing with his therapist; not shying away from saying the truth. You’d think that after five years it would feel like that, but Daniel still finds there are days when his fingers twitch to call the contact he still can’t bear to delete from his phone book.

From the corner of his eye, Daniel can see Max nod but stay silent, like he’s been given a particularly tricky problem that he’s trying to find a solution for.

“He was here for longer than he has not been here,” he eventually says, like the hole in Daniel’s life is something that can be plugged with logic.

“True,” Daniel agrees anyway, because he knows that Max is trying, and it’s unfair to expect him to have the answers when Daniel doesn’t even know what he is asking for.

The closest thing he can think of is, ‘do you think my dad would still have loved her even without any of my DNA,’ but it’s a cruel thing to ask Max, who so desperately wanted Daniel to be the biological father. Besides, it’s not like Max would know what to say to that anyway.

“Also,” Max continues, a hesitant edge to his voice now, “of course it will be more sad this time. To bring Emilia and know he is not here to see her.”

That’s closer. Daniel can feel it, the way the words pang in his chest.

Yet, to hear it while looking down at his daughter’s sleeping body, it crests an entirely different wave of fear inside him.

There will be a time when this is her, when she’ll be spending Christmas night in the house where she grew up, but that she no longer lives in, and Daniel won’t be there to see her open her presents in the morning. It’s ridiculous really. He’s never spent one holiday with her yet, and he’s already worried about the ones he’ll miss.

“When me and Michelle were kids, on Christmas night my dad would cover the floor in flour,” he begins to recount, the words made of his desire to bridge the gap between what his father was to him then, and who Daniel is now. “He would make footprints in them, all the way from the chimney to the tree and back again, for us to find in the morning. He did it for Isaac too, made Santa’s footprints, we- We should do that for Emilia, when she is old enough.”

When he looks at Max, he’s smiling. Softly, the hue of the mobile turning the tips of his mousy hair golden. He nods, reaching for Daniel’s hand, and sliding his fingers into the four gaps between Max’s feels like coming home more than boarding a plane ever has.

“I hope I am a dad like yours,” Max whispers. The and not like mine hangs so heavy in the air, Daniel doesn’t need for him to say it to hear it.

Still, he answers him-

“I hope we are better than both of them.”

#i hope you like it anyway!#or someone at least does lol #in that iron ground #fic #max/daniel #cw parental death

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outoutdamnspark · 2 months

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Well.

Things were calming down, and then something else happened.

(cw: death mention)

My biological father just died.

I'm not... sad? because I went no-contact over a decade ago. I'm just kind of Tired.™️Going back to my hometown for the weekend for the legal stuff, go through his belongings, and most importantly to be with my mom, since I'm more worried about her than anything else.

There's also the possibility I'll have to deal with other relatives I've gone no-contact with. Which. Fuck, I hope not.

Wish me luck, y'all.

#i'm sorry for the silence and the constant stream of negative shit i keep bringing to the blog. 😣#i swear i'm not gone forever and i don't mean to be such a debby downer #i'm going to try and officially come back after this week because godssssss i need a refresh #cw death mention #cw parental death #spark speaks

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yunomagic · 1 year

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Every single way Luz Noceda and Movie Sonic are similar (and why i think they should be besties)

These two are genuinely my moods, my kins, and my children and i actually do think they would be besties and its all gonna make sense in a minute i swear. Do be warned that this may be incoherent cuz I am like that, and that some things might’ve been said wrong. The elaborations are in no particular order and some explanations may be longer than others. ALSO this contains spoilers for both The Owl House and the Sonic Movies so if you haven’t watched one or both of em please do so when you can and come back to this. anyways Here we go:

Both resemble the archetype of a bubbly and kindhearted goofball of a protagonist that can be naive and/or impulsive at times during the time they first debuted

^^^ As they get older and as their stories progress, they start to mature and learn from what they experienced on their adventures

Both have dealt with a form of parental loss during an early part of their childhood ( Manny Noceda for Luz, and Longclaw for Sonic )

Both use escapism methods as coping mechanisms to compensate for their traumatizing childhood

( Luz indulges in TGWA books or fiction in general, and it’s implied she also does amvs and art, which can be interpreted as both hobbies and stress relievers. As for Sonic, he indulges in comic books like The Flash and pretends to be a part of Tom and Maddie’s family so he doesn’t feel so alone )

Both children were alone for a majority of their life and didn’t have any real friends until they found them in different worlds ( In the Boiling Isles, Luz ends up finding Eda, King, Gus, Willow and eventually, Amity. On Earth, Sonic ends up finding Tom and Maddie Wachowski, b4 meeting Tails and Knuckles later down the line )

Both strive to feel appreciated and accepted, and they execute it in similar ways

( Luz making grand gestures and extreme antics [like the snakes and the spiders in ep 1] to try and impress her classmates and Sonic trying to be a hero to make Longclaw proud, and to possibly gain acceptance from other humans )

^^^ As a result, both of their methods are seen as reckless and dangerous

Note: At this point in the ramble, the mobile version of tumblr won’t allow me to add more images cuz of a 10 image limit and I can’t figure out how to add more on desktop. So any evidence I provide is gonna be in quotes, parenthesis or paragraphs of elaboration. I’m so sorry there’s gonna be no visual flavor, if anyone can help me find a loophole that’d be great. Anyways back to the show:

Both pin the blame on themselves for things that weren’t their fault, and push themsleves to right what they believe they did wrong… by rushing into immediate danger ( can also be seen as some form of people pleasing behavior )

Both of them also refuse to accept any sort of help from the people who care about them

^^^ When Eda got captured trying to save Luz near the end of season 1, Luz’s plan was to straight up rescue her while being fully aware of the risks. This repeats again in season 2, episode 1 with the entire premise of the episode being that luz feels like a burden and is the cause of Eda losing her magic and everyone in the owl house financially struggling. Going all out to fight a selkiedomus in order to free Eda and king.

While Eda talks to Luz about it, the behavior doesn’t stop. Carrying over to Hollow Mind, and the episodes after that. If you know what happened in Hollow Mind, we’d know that Luz is now adamant on stopping Belos and the Day of Unity. While still being aware of the risks, she believes that she’s the sole reason for the Day of Unity happening, therefore she continued to risk her life in order to save others

“Please try to understand, Eda was in the situation because of me. Because of my stupid choice, I have to make up for it.” - Young Blood, Old Souls

“Because you stuck with me you lost your magic, you almost got turned to stone, and now you can’t even afford your apple blood because you’re worried about what I need to eat.” - Separate Tides

“I am NOT hiding, I’m going to stop Belos from completing the draining spell.” - O Titan, Where Art Thou

In the second act of sonic movie 2, Tails gets knocked unconscious by Robotnik and Sonic narrowly saves him in the nick of time b4 an avalanche could envelope them. Near the beginning of the movie, during the boat scene, the blue blur had a talk with Tom about how being a hero meant to take responsibility for other people. As Sonic accidentally caused chaos in Seattle for trying to stop a robbery and be a hero. It’s also implied that this has been happening more than once. One of the things Tom said to Sonic was, “You put people in danger and that’s not what a hero does.”

^^^ This statement indirectly affected Sonic’s way of thinking. While said with good intentions, as a result of what happened to Tails, Sonic believes that he needs to make up for what he did wrong by pursuing Knuckles and Robotnik for the master emerald. Thus, he thinks he’s automatically no longer a hero once a new friend of his almost died

( It should be worth mentioning that there was some visible regret in Tom’s face when he realized that he made sonic think that way. It’s also possible that Sonic blames himself for Longclaw’s death, the first movie also explicitly states that Sonic’s number one fear is hurting people because of being himself. Making the boat scene, what Tom said, AND what Sonic says next, extremely deep and depressing )

“You see that little fox over there? He came all the way across the universe to meet his hero, and what did his hero do? I practically got him killed! You were right, my moment came, and I blew it. I’m no hero.”

Key takeaways of these moments is that this is the kind of mindset both these kids have is somewhere along the lines of, “I accidentally made a mistake = Everything is my fault and I should take the blame and all responsibility for it no matter what other people tell me.”

^^^ This kind of thinking is reminiscent to people pleasing behavior and is v self-destructive. While Luz is undoubtedly a people pleaser, Sonic seems to be more of a subtle kind of people pleaser

Both kids may be afraid of rejection and/or abandonment due to past trauma

Both kids were forced to be sent away at some point in their childhood. The reasons and the circumstances differ, but the incidents were similar. In the end, it resulted in both Sonic and Luz not liking the idea of being sent away, even if it’s for their own safety

Both kids feel the need to become something or someone else in order to feel accepted by other people ( Luz wanting to become a witch in season 1 and Sonic wanting to become a hero in sonic movie 2 )

Both kids were forced into thinking that they are the problem or that they are a burden and danger to everybody around them. Just because they are being themselves.

^^^ Thus, they think that the solution is for them to either leave permanently or to never exist at all ( Luz initially planned to stay in the human realm and was vocal about her possible suicidal thoughts. Sonic planned on leaving Earth because that’s what Longclaw told him to do and he believed he would cause harm the longer he stays )

^^^ Luz says, “Who cares, about the RIPPLE effects? He was just a pawn in someone else’s game! A-And he was NEVER smart enough to realize it! If his friends and family knew about his existence… they’d know that their lives wouldn’t be in danger if it weren’t for HIM! They should hate his guts! And it would be better— if he literally, never EXISTED!” - Season 3, Thanks To Them

^^^ Sonic says, “I don’t wanna go, but I can’t stay. As long as I’m here, I put everyone in danger… I can’t do that.” - Sonic The Hedgehog 1

They’re both ridiculously selfless to the point where they won’t hesitate to sacrifice themselves under any sorr of circumstances

In the season 2 finale, King’s Tide, as the Boiling Isles is torn apart by the Collector, Luz intended to leave herself behind to keep the portal open with plant glyphs so Amity, Gus, Willow and Hunter can go through to the human realm. Luz also wanted to go find Eda, instead of heading for safety

On the other hand, during the final battle with Robotnik, Sonic wanted Tom and Maddie to get away from him in exchange for THEIR safety because he knows what Robotnik wants. It’s also possible that Sonic wants the Wachowski’s to get away from him because he can’t handle the idea of them dying because of him. The same way Longclaw did all those years ago

What both of these scenes have in common is that there’s this whole thing with families trying to stick together and the kids trying to participate in altruistic sacrifice. Which is very dark imo

Ultimately, the core of both of their stories and characters is that they both long to be understood and accepted by the people around them

OKAY— so i believe im done here, but there’s definitely more and i just forgor about it, and that there are some parts that are missing or i havent explained thoroughly. And it is getting late and this thing has been sitting in my drafts and i wanted to get this posted. But i do believe that these characters would get along super well, as they both have the similar demeanors and similar stories. (Insert that one barbie song /jjj) If these two met, they would either ramble, read each others comics, or commit crimes together /hj. I gave no doubt that ever met, their friendship would be instantaneous and strong. Anyways, imma head to bed, you guys can do whatever you want with rhe info i provided. Nighty night

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chloroformcurry · 4 months

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The night I lost you

(Dulce’s memories)

#art #digital art #character design #oc #original character #trauma art #trauma #cw parental death #tw parent death #tw parental loss #traumatized oc #tw childhood trauma #carboncopycomic #grief art #my oc

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cometstry · 6 months

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🌹 jptr-loverboy Follow

ur mom didnt raise no bitch? yeah well my mom didnt raise nobody

🎃 pumpkinskyg0d Follow

skull emoji

🌉 boltmovie Follow

HIS MOM IS DEAD JACKASS

🎃 pumpkinskyg0d Follow

WAIT FUCK

🐻‍❄️ goldenarcticb3ar Follow

nawww 😭😭😭😭

🌹 jptr-loverboy Follow

screaming crying sobbing WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR

🎃 pumpkinskyg0d Follow

I FORGOT OKAY

🌹 jptr-loverboy Follow

NO NOT OKAY EAT SHIT AND DIE!!!!!

#cw unreality #tw unreality #unreality #tw death mention #tw parent death #cw death mention #cw parental death

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the12thnightproject · 7 months

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Chapter 20: Limbo: Katsu’s accident temporarily pauses the investigation, but Mitsuhide proves to be a great nurse.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

CW: Flashback to parent death/suicide

“She's not dead. Oh Gods… I thought she was dead.”

“Katsuko – you could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t, though.” I broke into my energy bar stash and offered him one.

He pushed it away. “I’m done.”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Wait. Don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” But he hugged me in spite of his harsh tone. “I can’t keep watching you chase death.”

Toshiie? Where are we?

Is this how she felt? Is this what my mother had lived with every day? The unrelenting greyness that muffled all sound, blinded sight, reached inside and amplified everything dark, muffled everything bright? Had it been like this before? Too long had passed since my last journey through the wormhole. It was familiar, and yet not. No. This was not what I remembered. I could see nothing but grey. The fog invaded my eyes, my lungs, my throat. It was… My fingers were getting numb… I couldn’t feel my toes. I couldn’t feel. I could sense nothing. How could I escape from a place that appeared to be part of me? I was as one with the fog. There wasn’t a step I could take, a direction I could move that would separate me from the grey. Someone looking at me would only see a fading shadow, perhaps darker in some places, and translucent in others. The darkness would fade last.

"Kaya. Open your eyes." The voice was insistent enough that I tried and-

Ow. No. Hurt.

…Me against the mountain. The bright snow and crisp wind, sailing on the board, trusting my balance, my mastery, my freedom. At the top of the pipe, I twisted and… crap! Over rotated, misjudged the run... and I tumbled into the hard packed snow in the bowl of the half pipe.

The few other early season boarders let out an ‘ooh’ of sympathy. Yeah, that's going to leave a mark. A headache began at the base of my skull and slush slid down my back.

Time to pack it in for the day.

Happy Birthday to me. It wasn't literally my birth date. That had been, six weeks ago. Toshiie and I had had a small dinner at home, with only our mother as a guest, though I knew that Toshiie had celebrated the night before with his boyfriend. Mom lasted through three bites of the cheesecake I'd made for the three of us, then retreated to her room, leaving Toshiie and me to pretend that was had been planned after all. After a few moments of awkwardly staring at her closed bedroom door, we gave up and instead found a movie to stream.

But that was six weeks ago. I was over it. Today I had been determined to have a belated celebration just for myself, the way I liked to spend my time, testing myself against the sky ... although my plan hadn’t included wiping out on the half pipe.

Oh well. First snow of the season. Always takes a couple of runs to get the kinks out.

While waiting for the bus to take me back to town, I remembered to turn my phone back on, only to see a stack of increasingly frantic texts from my brother. Shit. Guess they'd found out I wasn't at the library studying.

I considered ignoring the messages (new phone who dis), but it would only be postponing the inevitable. I braced myself and called him back.

"Where are you?" Weird. Toshiie never skipped the greeting. That was my gig.

"Mount Kosha. Waiting for the bus.” With about one hundred other people. Hopefully, I would get a seat. My headache had become impossible to ignore.

His sigh of disgust sent the pain ricocheting around my skull. "I'm sending a taxi to you. Take it."

"What? Why?'' My words went in to the void; he'd already hung up.He’d sounded on the edge of crying, though and my stomach began to twist in anxiety, especially when my attempts to call him back went unanswered. Still. Toshiie sometimes went from zero to full catastrophe in seconds. It could be something simple. Maybe… maybe he broke up with his boyfriend?

I peeled away from the bus stop and migrated to the taxi lot, put on my airpods and tried to push away my worry with a bit of music. My normal k-pop playlist increased my headache, so I poked around the satellite radio networks and found a “Music for Yoga” station. Maybe a dose of New Age flute would clear away the pain.

The lilting tune did little to ease my headache, but as the cab took me back to Nagano, I found the music hypnotic. Relaxing. It was as if it was pulling me somewhere else, calling me to come…

… home?

But home was little more than a slightly shabby nondescript apartment building, parallel to an equally non-descript building. In between the two structures was a small playground with rusty slide and swing set. We’d never played on those though … when we moved here we were already too old for playgrounds. So I was surprised to see Toshiie sitting on one of the swings when I arrived. His head was down, and he kicked his feet in the dirt.

As soon as I got out of the cab, he rushed over, yanked me into a fierce hug, and buried his face on my shoulder. Behind him, the swing he’d hastily abandoned was still moving, back and forth, and side to side, as if propelled by an invisible cyclone. "She's dead."

I didn’t process what he said at first. Instead, I watched that abandoned swing rotating wildly, as his words whirled inside my head, pinging back and forth against my aching skull. What? Who?

Then, I knew. Mom. Of course mom. "Did... Um... were you the one who found her?" Had she been dead even before I'd crept out of the house at an early hour? I should have checked on her – usually I do before I leave. But usually, I’m not sneaking out to snowboard.

I should have been the one to find her. It wouldn’t have come as a surprise to me, but Tosh... Tosh always thought she was going to snap out of it when her dark days came. Me. I knew she wouldn’t.

"Yes – I tried CPR, but it was already too late." His voice was muffled in my shoulder. "I should have checked on her earlier.”

It wouldn’t have mattered. It would never have mattered. She was always going to do this. But I couldn’t say any of that, so I hung on to the hug, patting his back, trying to ignore the feeling of release. At least now, the wondering was over.

"Kaya, wake up." Two Mitsuhides were floating over my head. The pain was… no I couldn’t focus without it hurting. I closed my eyes to the pain. “Who?"

New phone who dis?

Later, I don't know how much later, I felt something cool touch my cheek. Ok yes, that’s good. I blinked open for a sec, and it was Sho, washing my face. "Kaya! Thank you for saving Hiko!" There was a smothering hug, and a stab of pain, and... Why does she keep calling me Kaya? I hate that name.

I’m just going to sleep again.

It was dark for a while. The soft strains of a flute reached out, around, a cloud bank of music. Nice. I must have found that Music for Yoga station again.

"Katsuko." The room was still dark, but I knew Mitsuhide's voice.

"Nooo. Let me sleep." I batted his hand away.

"I will. Be patient, Brat. The strange doctor Shojumaru found said I should wake you up periodically." He mumbled something else under his breath, but I was in too much pain to concentrate on that.

Ugh. My entire life savings for aspirin.

"If you are able to drink it, I have some willow bark tea for the pain." I felt a hand under my back, lifting me slightly, cradling my weight, while a slight bitterness dripped onto my lips.

My turn to have willow bark. I used to be the one forcing it on people.

“There’s no way to make this into a tea, so you’re going to have to chew on this for a little while.”

“What… does it taste like?” Even half out of breath, there was deep suspicion in his voice.

"Katsuko. Wake up." Who was that talking? I only saw a blur with white hair.

"Go away ghost." I tried to turn over to avoid the light, and a wave of pain swept through me, instantly receding on a rush of nausea. No. I couldn’t throw up in my own bed. "Let me sleep," I begged the ghost.

There was a soft touch untangling my hair, and a cool gel of some kind on my cheek.

Wth a gentle touch, he lightly massaged the ointment onto my cheekbone. The warmth of his finger combined with the cool of the salve – the sensation was not unpleasant at all. It felt little like a butterfly was dancing on my skin, and I involuntarily shivered as his touch reverberated through me.

“Did I hurt you?” Mitsunari’s voice was in my ear; he sounded concerned.

“No.” I hurried to reassure him. “It tickled, actually.” Tickled wasn’t quite what I meant, but there didn’t seem to be an adequate word in my vocabulary for the feeling his tenderness had evoked.

He continued the treatment, smoothing another layer across, and I squashed a rogue desire to lean into his hand as if I were Kitty. “There. Done.”

I opened my eyes to see Mitsunari’s serious gaze right in front of me. His palm was still pressed to my cheek. Then he jerked his hand away, as if he’d been shocked. Quickly, he lurched backward and jumped to his feet.

"Katsuko. Time to wake up again, Brat." Mitsuhide had returned. This time there was only one of him. An improvement, I guess.

"Where did your friend go?"

"The healer?" He frowned. "Do you think you can sit up long enough to drink this?" He held a cup out to me. "It's gone cold, but Sho would happily brew up an entire vat if I asked."

"Cold is fine." Willow bark. Fume used to make me strip acres of it for her own medicinal stock. Mitsuhide helped me sit up enough to sip the cup. The room tilted, then spun when I moved and I closed my eyes. The nausea arrived with the pain, but the tea would help. Hopefully. "Where did you find willow bark?"

"Shojumaru brought it." Mitsuhide sounded slightly surprised by that. Huh. For that matter, so was I. "Do you recall what happened?"

For a moment we were all quiet. I lined up another shot, my attention fully on the sound of the air and the rustle of the leaves, and it was quiet enough to hear something else – the twang of another bow string in the distance.

I didn’t need to look to know there would be an arrow heading for us, and I was yelling a warning even before I turned to see Yoshimoto move faster than I had ever seen him move, grab Mai’s arm and dive left, covering her with his body, while I somersaulted to the right, landing hard on a rock, as –

The arrow thudded into the ground right past Mai had been standing. If Yoshimoto hadn’t pulled her out of its path, it would have buried itself in her heart.

"Arrow." No. Wait. Where were all these strange visions coming from? "Runaway cart. Is Hiko all right?" The scene blurred in my mind. I could see the ox, but the moment before that was blank.

"He is fine. Apparently Shojumaru is sufficiently attached to the boy to be grateful." I couldn’t tell whether or not Mitsuhide found that information helpful due to the procurement of medical supplies or if he planned to make use of that gratitude. In another situation, I might have asked, but at the moment, I simply wanted to go to sleep again.

So I did.

The next time I surfaced, it was daylight again. This time I had awakened without anyone prompting me. My head still ached when I tried to focus my vision on anything in particular, but I had the sense that-

Yes, that was Mitsuhide next to me on the bed. He was lying on his side, with his head propped up on his arm. He stared down at me wordlessly, and brushed my hair out of my face, his touch as gentle as-

“Feathers.” Since it still hurt too much to do anything else, I curled into him and went back to sleep.

How much time had passed since morning? It was impossible to tell. Sho had brought me some soup and insisted I take it, saying that I needed to eat. I likely would have refused, but her statement was backed up by Mitsuhide’s implacable stare.

Bad decision. After I sat up and swallowed a small amount, the liquid boiled in my stomach. "Oh hell. I'm going to-"

With a shriek, she rushed for a bucket, and thrust it in front of me while Mitsuhide kept my hair out of the way and gently rubbed my back. The soup left me faster than it entered. I felt helpless, prisoner to the constant ache in my skull and the convulsions in my stomach. This was worse than any flu or food poisoning I’d ever had. At least with the flu, there was the knowledge that eventually, it would run its course.

When the wave finally subsided, I felt spent and exhausted. Mitsuhide held me against him while he helped me take a couple sips of cold tea, and then I lay back down, completely out of energy, and yet not able this time to go back to sleep. If I kept myself very very still, maybe everything would stop hurting.

"Thank you." I heard Sho's soft footsteps padding away, leaving me alone with Mitsuhide. "How long has it been?" Time had been blurred, I felt like I'd been both thrown into the past and at the same time futures that didn’t exist.

"Since you picked a fight with a runaway cart? Three days. Some of your bruises all already fading." His fingers lightly skimmed across my cheek. "I imagine your head will feel better soon as well."

I hoped so. Concussion… that’s probably what I had, but of course there was no word for that in this time.

"Do you think a strong scent will make you feel sick?" Mitsuhide's voice came from further away and I heard a bit of a clanking. It sounded like a ceramic jar, maybe, but I wasn’t willing to test opening my eyes again.

"Maybe." There had been a bit of a fishy smell to the soup. But the scent of the herbal tea hadn’t been triggering.

I heard a rustle, then the side of the futon dipped slightly. Very briefly, the scent of something minty wafted past. "What about this scent?"

"So far it seems tolerable," The scent came closer, stronger.

"And now?" I felt his breath across my ear.

"Still fine. As long as I don't move or open my eyes. Why?" The question was automatic, although I suspected what he had planned.

"This oil may help with the pain, but if I put it on you, I don't want it to make you ill again." The scent was closer still, right under my nose, fresh and sharp, and I realized something was missing. He no longer had that scent of incense clinging to him. He must have bathed and laundered his clothing. "May I?"

"Yes." If it would stop the men with spears from hurling them back and forth in my skull, it would be lovely.

Very gently, almost imperceptibly, one finger traced small circles at my temple, drawing a line from there to a spot behind my ear. The mint oil left a trail of coolness, soothing the angry nerve endings. The pain didn’t go away, but it subsided enough to help me relax. "That's nice."

He lightly applied more oil to the side of my neck, the top of my shoulders, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Interesting. That response makes me curious to see what would happen if we employed this oil in other situations." That teasing note was finally back in his voice. He wouldn’t tease me if he thought I was in any serious danger, which was a relief. I mean it wasn't like I thought I was going to die either. If this head injury was going to kill me it would have done so already, right?

It was only belatedly that I realized what exactly he was teasing me about, "Great. Let me know how it turns out." Not my usual, but hey give me credit for any snark at all when I have a concussion.

"You would know long before that," At least that’s possibly what he said. I was already halfway into sleep again.

I wish I could say that recovery from that concussion was as easy as recovery from a cold. Though the constant headache and nausea receded within a week, it came back whenever I tried to do anything strenuous. Reading. Reading was strenuous. Though I had never been much of a reader, being stuck in bed was boring, and reading material would have helped distract me from my thoughts.

Even worse than the boredom was the feeling that I was always on the verge of crying or losing my temper. The third time I tried to read and the text blurred in front of me had brought me to tears. Luckily neither Sho nor Mitsuhide had been in the room at the time. Maybe it was illogical, but I couldn’t get past the conviction that all the things I used to be able to do were gone and would never return.

That fear, and a fear that I was holding up Mitsuhide’s investigation, propelled me out of bed.

As it had been practice and repetition that had given me all those skills to start with, well, then, I only needed to practice and work hard to make sure they were retained. With that in mind, I made my way back to the room that had been mine when I first moved in, before Mitsuhide banned me from window access.

I'd been able to eat the past few days, so the effort of walking down that hideous red and black corridor didn’t even have me out of breath. (Not much anyway). I only wanted to look out the window, to visualize what it would be like to climb out and make my way through the city across the rooftops. To remember what it had felt like to be powerful and free. To test myself against the sky.

But even the act of looking down inspired such a feeling of vertigo, that the room spun around me and-

"What do you think you're doing over there?" Mitsuhide's voice was sharp with disapproval.

Before the words were out of his mouth, he had crossed the room and scooped me up in his arms. "It's been barely a week since your head injury. Even someone as reckless as you would not think of climbing out the window."

"I wasn't." I slumped against his shoulder as he hauled me back to my room, all previous energy having vanished in the dizziness. "I only wanted to know if… to see if..." I couldn’t figure out how to explain it, and then to my complete horror, I burst into tears as he put me back down on the bed. "Just leave me alone."

Crying was bad enough. Crying in front of Mitsuhide? Kill. Me. Now.

@lorei-writes @selenacosmic @bestbryn @lyds323 @tele86 @akitsuneswife

#tw suicide #tw parent death #10things #10 things I hate about mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku fanfic #mitsuhide akechi #katsuverse #cw suicide #cw parental death #hurt/comfort

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