#grief mention
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when some of you talk about the way eddie /should/ have reacted to buck being in a coma, i think you should be a little more sensitive to the fact that people deal with things differently and making blanket statements like ‘what kind of friend is he’ or ‘its like he doesn’t even care’ is kinda upsetting for people who experience grief in similar ways to eddie
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I like to think that Nico would be the god of dying wishes.
He grants them to the innocent and to the heroic, making sure their journey to the Underworld is easier by taking care of that which was left behind.
His only policy is that they can't ask him to revive/resurrect/restore them in any form, shape, or manner. Otherwise, he's willing to carry out all their other wishes, no matter how strange, no matter how tasking. He will do it.
The gentle ask for their family's protection, the young ask for a chance to say farewell, and though few, those who had nothing to lose but their life ask for vengeance.
The first two are easy.
Nico is benevolent and he ensures that those afflicted by grief of losing a loved one are under his careful eye. He chases the cold away from their homes and finishes the chores they cannot bring themselves to do. He wipes the tears that slip out during their wretched grief stricken sleep and he hides away a chest of Hazel's gold in the attic that he knows their father wouldn't mind.
He lets the freed soul wander for as long as they'd like. After all, time is now irrelevant for either of them. He allows them to hug their friends and family; he even sometimes induces the slight sensation of tangibility when he's feeling generous, because before he is a god, he is a king of ghosts. He helps them change their goodbye to see you soon. He is kind, they murmur, so kind, that it's easy to forget that he's even a god at all.
The last one, however, is a jurisdiction he takes utmost care in. Vengeance comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Sometimes, it leaves the recipient to live such a life that makes death appear sweet. In other cases, the recipient perishes, harshly and violently and quickly, and the wisher smiles with wicked satisfaction as they see the one who wrought their pain struggle to make peace with their horrific death.
It's justice either way. That's all that really matters to Nico.
But recently, there's been a special request and the god wonders why he hasn't done it before.
"When you kill him, take my form," the shade had insisted with darkened eyes, "so that I can take my rest knowing I could be part of his undoing."
And what a fascinating sight it was, Nico thought, to see the fear flood and fester in that cruel man's eyes. Centuries had passed since he had begun his work as a divine executioner, but retribution has never been so... delectable.
#nico di angelo#riordanverse#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#death mention#grief mention#murder mention
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Tucker stumbles a bit and looks around shocked, he was too lost in thought to process that the game had started again
Olive: Silver!! That wasn't very nice!
Silver: I SAID "heads up"! What else do you want me to do!!
Olive gives Silver a angry pout expression and the bull returns the expression mockingly
Copper moves closer to the fence, trying to peer over at Tucker
Copper: A-are... are you o-okay Tucker?
Tucker: Huh y.. yeah! Yeah I'm...
Tucker looks around for a moment, his eyes readjusting to the area around him
Copper:... M-maybe you n-need a break?
Silver: Aww come on! The game JUST restarted!
Tucker: N-No! I'm.. I'm fine! I just... was... thinking... i-is all..
Silver lets out a overdramatic gasp
Silver: YOU CAN THINK?!
Olive tosses some grass clippings over at Silver in response
Tucker shakes his head from side to side, as if trying to shake the memory from his mind.
He grabs the apricorn and faces the others again
Tucker: I'm ready again!
Olive and Silver cheer in response and return to their positions
Copper gives Tucker a concerned expression, but soon returns to their spot for the game to continue
-- -- -- --
[ the talk of the Dogs earlier seemed to have stirred some bad memories for Tucker... But he's fine now... ]
[ The children are continuing their game ]
#chrono#Tucker#Silver#Olive#Copper#sfw#repeated text#eye strain#death mention#violence mention#grief mention#Tauros#MamaMoo#want to add more tags but im like. squints. not sure what else to add. but I know there is some stuff hrgggggggggggggggg#lemme know what else to add if things are needed because it is late for me and my brain is functionally dead#alt text to be added#add alt text#JUST A REMINDER that this blog will deal with some heavier things. Child trying to process death and grief and trauma IS one of them
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Okay, so here’s my hot take: Rayla leaving was not the worst thing that has ever happened to Callum. Yes, it was extremely painful, but it wasn’t on the same level as losing Sarai and Harrow, and it’s not the only thing that’s contributing to the way we see Callum in season 4.
First of all: Rayla didn’t die. Callum didn’t know what happened to her, and while the fear of that would be excruciating, I do believe it’s not the same as knowing, with finality, that she’s gone from the world, knowing all the things she’ll never do again or do the first time and all the things he can never tell her or experience with her. Second: look, I know in my heart that Rayla and Callum are best friends, soul mates, the loves of each other’s lives. But the reality is, they only knew each other for a few months. Losing a parent— someone who you’ve spent almost every day with, someone who you literally cannot remember existing without— messes with you in an entirely different way. Your entire past, your sense of self, your view of the future— all of it gets shattered.
So yes, reading Rayla’s note, spending two years wondering and worrying without her, were awful for Callum. But I don’t think it was the most important pain in his life, and it’s not the only struggle he faces as a character. His terror of losing Ezran, the beginnings of his obsession with the mirror, even his anger— they’re all classic reactions to grief, and I think they stem from that just as much if not more than his abandonment. I hope that grief and the way that impacts him continue to be recognized and acknowledged like it was in season two, and addressed in addition to his arc with Rayla, because it’s a critical piece of his character, and it’s kind of surprising the degree to which it’s been forgotten by the fandom.
#the dragon prince#tdp#tdp callum#tdp rayla#tdp harrow#tdp sarai#tdp ezran#grief mention#ray rambles
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posting this mainly to remember that i need to write this in my actual journal but my two grandmas were really close and like best friends and they would visit each other and talk for hours on end and then one of them passed and the other is really sick w alzheimers and doesnt rmr that my other grandma passed 3 years ago and I just had to promise her i would tell my grandma that she misses her and wants to get better to visit her and catch up on everything and . wow grief is crazy huh it really just never ends
#txt#sorry um#grief mention#family death mention#ask to tag#but . god like its judt never ending fr and its always starting over even when theyre still here its CRAZY#anyways. cant wait to talk abt this to my therapist tomorrow
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thinking about ivvic's Not What I Wanted to Observe and having so many thoughts about JARVIS and his work monitoring the avengers.
tw: grief, loss, major character death prior to start of fic.
This was just so gentle and a reminder that grief sometimes isnt a tidal wave. sometimes it isn't falling to your knees and screaming. Sometimes it's rearranging the furniture and fucking up conversation and being irritable and not eating.
Taking care of yourself is so hard and the idea that JARVIS silently logs and monitors makes me teel like the opportunity rover but in reverse. rather than millions of people thinming about her and signing her birthday song it's JARVIS just "following orders" and in that inherently being imbued with love. The capacity for harm and love is all in the orders given, and in this case he's an immortalization of the love and attention clint paid to bucky. he's named for the only love tony got as a kid. there's something there. something something being built with love he could handle a fucking infinity stone as a being idk
Thankless, unnoticed, and all the while JARVIS isn't bothered and doesnt bother. he literally doesnt know what it means to be bothered by the task. how wonderful is that - effortlessly replicating the devotion a life partner was able to offer without any difficulty. JARVIS didn't judge or disapprove; he simply watched and logged. sometimes that's all you need.
anyway ivvic if you want to meet up i'm free on thursday if you have time on thursdsy the day on which i am also free we could on thursday think about literally anything you wanted and also hold hands on thursday
#ivvic#this isnt what i wanted to observe#jarvis#grief mention#grief#loss of a partner#avengers#clint barton#bucky barnes#winterhawk#tag ivvic if you know them please
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grief sucks, i am not going to sit here and pretend that it doesn't, but it sucks to listen to a song that was his favourite when he was alive and now it's our favourite after he passed away, it sucks to go to the restaurant that was his favourite and now it's ours, because it reminds us about him, it sucks that when we talk about him we use past tense instead of present one, it sucks that he is no longer with us, but heaven got a new angel that shines bright on the night sky.
it sucks that when we saw him for the last time - he didn't know we where there, looking at him, praying, he didn't know how hard it was for us to leave him after we said our goodbyes quietly.
but somehow we knew that he was no longer in pain, he looked so peaceful, like he was getting the best possible sleep.
so yes, grief sucks and it is hard to accept but time passes anyways.
grief will be gone soon and we will cheer the happy moment we had together.
#tw grief#grief journal#dealing with grief#grieving#grief#healingjourney#personal rant#mini rant#random rant#ranting#rant#rant post#grief mention#grief //#random thoughts#one step at a time#self healing
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Happy nine years, Technoblade, I can't believe it. It's been about four months since you told us goodbye, and it still doesn't feel real sometimes. One minute I rewatch you, by yourself or with friends, and I'll laugh so much and I'll be okay. The next I forget how to function, I don't necessarily cry every time, I just shut down.
You're still getting subscribers, you passed Tommy a while ago, and I don't know if he should be more happy or jealous, either way I know you're laughing about it.
Dream face revealed, and it was a really big deal, he also did an elbow reveal in your honor. George is in America now, and he seems really happy. Tommy and Wilbur wrote a book. Ranboo came out. Again. Wilbur and his band went on tour and we can't wait for them to release more music.
People still make art, and write fics, and talk about you all the time. It's really cool to see all of them, and thanks for letting us still make things even still, we're always gonna do you justice and make you look or sound cooler than you said you probably are.
I miss that little blue icon that there's a new video. I miss your "heh" and your "hullo" and your "yoooooooo" and your "bapbapbap". I miss your sarcasm and humor and jokes. I miss your laugh. I miss your chaos. I miss you.
Happy nine years, Technoblade, you are, and always will be, so very loved
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Still
Single Dad Hawks. Sequel to 'Shiny Leaves and Apple Cider' CW//: mentions of death, depression, mental health, and grieving.
@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen (you asked me to tag you if I made a sequel. So here it is).
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂🍁
"Suzi! You almost ready up there?"
"I'm coming!"
Keigo shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He's got Suzume's little autumn leaf bouquet in one hand and a picnic basket being weighed down by the enormous jug of apple cider that they've been sipping away at for the past week.
He listens to Suzume's footsteps fly across her bedroom floor, various bangs of falling objects echoing throughout the house. He contemplates going up there to prevent any further destruction, but there's already a familiar ache beginning to settle in around his pelvic area and he doesn't want to aggravate the impending flare up by trying to prevent the inevitable disaster that awaits behind Suzume's bedroom door.
She's fine, he convinces himself, She's usually fine. I can clean it up tomorrow–
Another loud bang echoes down the hallway, followed by a clipped "I got it!" from his daughter. Keigo winces.
Yep. Totally fine.
Suzume finally slides into view, bouncing down the stairs with her little backpack and a wide grin. When she gets down to the ground floor, she lunges at him and hugs his middle.
Keigo chuckles, moving the bouquet into his other hand to run a hand through her hair and cup her cheek.
"Ready?"
She nods happily.
Keigo smiles, holding the bouquet out to her, "Here. You can give these to Daddy when we get there. Hold 'em tight, okay?"
She nods again. She takes the bouquet and follows Keigo out to the car, climbing into the back. Keigo tosses the picnic basket beside her and starts to head for the driver's side when he's stopped by a louder than usual "Takami-san!" coming from the opposite house.
Keigo turns. He's greeted by Fumikage running toward the car. He tilts his head to one side and raises a curious brow.
"Hey, Fumi-kun. Something wrong?" He asks.
Fumikage stops to catch his breath, ignoring the silly nickname given to him by Suzume, "You're…you're going to visit Touya, correct?"
Keigo's brows arch in surprise, "How did you–?"
"Suzume told me."
"I invited him!" She exclaims from inside the car.
"Of course she did," he murmurs, still smiling. He looks up back at Fumikage, "Look, you don't have to–"
"I want to."
"Do you, or are you just saying that because you're worried about me and you don't wanna leave me alone when I go?"
Fumikage falls silent, avoiding Keigo's eyes.
Keigo lets out a slow breath through his nose. He reaches out and puts a firm hand on Fumikage's shoulder.
"If you really wanna come, that's fine. But you don't have to keep looking out for me! I'm okay today!"
Fumikage runs an unsure hand up his arm, "There's always a chance that can change.”
Keigo’s smile starts to falter a bit. He can’t say that Fumikage’s wrong in thinking that he could potentially fall apart before the set in a foot in the cemetery – it’s happened so many times before that the chance of it happening again is at least 70% – but, he’s grown now.
He has a kid – well, technically two– who cries when other people cry, and he’ll be damned if he falls into a sobbing puddle in the dirt in front of her. They'd never make it back home if he did. And he’s not that deep in the trenches of his grief. Not anymore.
Of course, he loves and misses Touya. Always has and always will. In truth, some days he can hardly get out of bed because he knows he won’t be there getting up with him, but he’s managed. He’s made it through, and while Touya is gone, he’s never forgotten.
Keigo makes sure of it, in healthier ways than before.
His smile returns to his face, and he nods, “I know. But I promise, if anything does happen or if I get weird, we can leave before it gets even weirder, yeah?”
Fumikage nods hesitantly.
“You can come if you want. I’m not gonna force you to come and babysit or anything.”
Fumikage sighs, “I’m afraid I already ‘pinky promised’ Suzume I would come.”
“Oh yeah. Those’ll getcha. I forgot to stick to Malcolm’s feeding schedule once and I have never heard the end of it since.”
“So, best to assume I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t attend this outing?”
“Well…”
The horn to the car blares in their ears. They turn to see Suzume has crawled her way to the front, slamming her hand on the center of the steering wheel.
“Papa! We’re gonna be laaaate!”
Keigo chuckles, shaking his head, “We’re coming! We’re coming! Sorry about this, bud.”
“I don’t mind, but we should get going before she does it again.”
Keigo hums in agreement. They climb into the car, Suzume climbing back into her spot in the backseat after some back and forth with Keigo, and they head off. Suzume proudly shows off her bouquet to Fumikage who watches from the rear view mirror and talks his ear off about all the things she’s going to tell Touya once they get there.
Keigo’s got a bit to say too – he always does – but he doesn’t often like to share what he tells Touya since they’re not the most joyful of messages. In a selfish way, he’s sort of glad that Fumikage got coaxed into pinking swearing with Suzume. At least then, his presence can preoccupy Suzume while Keigo gets gross and emotional with his dead boyfriend.
They pull up in front of the cemetery gates. Fumikage helps with the basket as Keigo tries to keep Suzume from running off in excitement. They manage to walk in together despite the 7-year-old’s impatience, passing by the lines of headstones until they get to the end of the grassy lot where someone else has already taken residence in front of Touya’s grave.
Keigo’s heart jumps into his throat when the white-haired woman with the blue flowers turns her head at Suzume’s excited gasp.
“Fuyumi-channn!”
Suzume sprints out of Keigo’s hand and immediately envelopes the eldest Todoroki in a tackle hug. Fuyumi laughs, reciprocating the hug while swinging the little girl around in her arms.
“Hey you! Wow, you’ve gotten so big since the last time I saw you!”
Suzume giggles in response. Fuyumi turns her attention to Keigo and Fumikage, zeroing in on Keigo, who hasn’t moved or said anything since initially being spotted. Her face softens into a smile (she looks so much like her mother. Too much like her mother).
“It’s good to see you again, Kei,” she says much, much too kindly.
Keigo manages a smile of his own, “Good to see you too, Fuyumi-chan.”
“Fuyumi-chan! Look what I made for Daddy!”
Suzume holds up the collection of autumnal leaves and sunflowers to her would-be aunt.
Fuyumi gasps, “Wow, Suzu-chan! Did you make that?”
Suzume nods proudly, “And I did it all by myself!”
Keigo playfully rolls his eyes at the obvious lie and goes to ruffle the top of the little girl’s head, “Go give those to your dad, huh? I’ll be there in a second.”
Suzume nods, racing ahead to carefully set down the bouquet with Fumikage in tow.
“I didn’t realize you’d come back to town,” Keigo says, tucking his hands in his front pockets.
“I’m moving back, actually! Ms. Shuzenji told me about a teaching opportunity that opened up at Masegaki. Figured it would be a good excuse to come back, you know?”
Keigo nods as he tries to push down the discomfort crawling up his gullet.
“Well, we’re glad to have you back. It’s been lonely without you here. Not as sunny as it used to be.”
Fuyumi nods with a hum. “What about you? How’ve you all been? How have you been?”
“We’ve been okay. I’ve been okay.”
“Have you been feeling better? How’s your–”
“It’s fine,” he replies with a shrug, “I’m…I’m as fine as I can be, is what I mean. Nothing’s been too bad yet, so the stuff Toshinori and Chiyoko gave me seem to be workin’.”
“That’s good! That’s…really good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Keigo raises a brow, “That’s not the only thing you meant, was it?”
Fuyumi presses her lips into a thin line, avoiding his eyes. Keigo steps toward her and pulls her into a hug before she can come up with something to deflect.
“I’m okay,” he says, patting her back, “I’m…actually doing better now. I promise.”
Fuyumi sighs, slowly reciprocating. “I missed you a lot.”
“I missed you too.”
“I was worried when you stopped calling and stopped texting as much, I–”
“I know. I…I’m sorry. I was going through it for a bit and I sort of dropped off the face of the earth for a bit. You didn’t deserve that. I shoulda said something, I just…I didn’t know how.”
“It’s okay,” she pulls away, holding his hands, “I’m just so glad you’re doing better now.”
Keigo smiles, “Come on. Touya’s waiting.”
She nods.
They arrive at the foot of the grave. Suzume’s already having a full-blown conversation about the past few months with Touya’s gravestone as if it were her father himself and it makes Keigo’s heart ache. He blinks back the water works before any tears hit his cheeks.
Suzume only stops talking when she realizes that the adults have returned and that they’re standing right behind her. She whips her head to them, then back to Touya.
“Oh! Papa and Fuyumi-chan are back. I’ll let you talk to them ‘cause I don’t wanna make ‘em wait. Papa’s been wanting to see you for foreeeeveeerrr! But we can talk more later!”
Keigo and Fuyumi share a small chuckle. Suzume scoots out of the way to leave room for the two. Keigo steps forward and kneels in front of the gravestone.
Someone’s been before them. There’s a bouquet of bluebells in one of the colorful glass vases right beside Suzume’s bouquet. The picture’s been cleaned, too. Touya’s toothy grin is shinier than the last time he saw it, but then again their last visit was about four months ago. Keigo smiles back at him, running his thumb over the edges of the frame.
“Hey, firefly,” he says softly, “Good to see you again. Sorry it’s been so long. It's been a rough couple a months, but we’re good now. I think Su already told you about that, though.”
“Almost!” Suzume exclaims.
Keigo chuckles, “So she almost did. She’ll probably tell you the rest later though.”
He turns back to Fuyumi, “Your sister’s back. For good, this time. She’s missed you too.”
Fuyumi kneels down next to him, taking her flowers and placing them in one of the vases.
“Hi Touya. I’m back. I got a job at Suzume’s school, so I’ll be around a lot more often. Hope you won’t get too sick of me being here, cause I’m gonna be visiting a lot more often. I might even bring Sho and Natsuo with me one of these days!”
Keigo’s hand tightens around his knee, “We brought you somethin’. It’s your favorite.”
Fumikage hands him the jug of cider and Touya’s old mason jar. He pours until it almost overflows. He holds it out to the grave, chugs half of it, and pours the rest into the earth.
“Bottoms up, babe. Might not be exactly how we make it, but we got a baby to think about, you know? Hope it’s still good though.”
The jar empties pretty quickly and Keigo packs it away along with the food.
"Su and I made it a while ago. I taught her how. Been trying to teach her a lot of things now, like you would've. Though I don't think she's ready for ATV's just yet."
Keigo's smile starts to waver the longer he stares at the photo. It's the one "nice" they had of him that wasn't him making dumb faces or gestures at the camera. The one nice school photo that Rei bribed him to take in exchange for his truck that's still in their garage.
That photo…No, it's not just the photo – it's all of it.
It's the fact that there' isn't even a body under the earth they're sitting on. Only a plot and grave because of the fire that reduced his lover to ash alongside the old pool hall, blown away by the wind.
It's the fact that with each passing day, Suzume's getting older, Keigo's being stretched thin to keep up because he hates inconveniencing people, and Touya isn't here to see any of it.
It's the silence he wakes up to, it's the absence of his other half, it's the chilling isolation he feels when Suzume and Fumikage are at school and everyone's at work and he's left in the house, by himself. (Well, he's not completely alone if you count the bird.)
It’s that he spent most of his life with one, beautiful person only to have him brutally stripped away from him in one night.
He feels Fuyumi’s hand squeeze his shoulder. He takes a breath and looks back at Suzume.
“Hey, Suzu. You wanna finish talking to your dad?”
“Yeah!”
“Go ahead.”
He scoots back as she shuffles to the grave on her knees and immediately gets to work chirping away. He lays on his side as he watches her talk. And maybe it’s because he’s already succumbing to his sad thoughts so early in the game, but it’s on day’s like these that she looks so much like him. Where the turquoise in her eyes overtakes the yellow and her smile shapes into his.
That’s how he keeps his smile in his life some days – through her.
Fuyumi and Fumikage keep him distracted. They have lunch and try to talk about happier times. They dance around the recent Todoroki family fights and whether or not Fuyumi’s really here for a job opportunity or to look out for her siblings when it comes to their dad.
They remind themselves of all the good times they had with Touya – all the rated R movies they snuck into late at night, the high school dances with spiked punch and mosh pits, the illegal parties down at the old mines on Thursday nights.
School dances, recitals, stolen kisses in between classes, detentions – they talk about it all and for hours, much to Fumikage’s secondhand embarrassment.
They don’t realize how much time has passed until Suzume’s shadow crawls into Keigo’s lap before she does. Her head falls onto his knee, burying her face in his denim.
“Oh, you okay, Su?”
“ ‘M tired,” she mumbles, yawning big.
Keigo turns his head up to the sky, painted orange and pink by the setting sun.
“Oh man. Guess we’ve been out here longer than we thought, huh? We should probably head out now.”
“Yeah, I guess we should…,” Fuyumi agrees with a bit of hesitence, “I’ll help pack up.”
Fuyumi folds up the picnic blanket and packs it away into the basket with Fumikage. Keigo picks up Suzume and carries her close to his chest. He steps over to Touya’s grave and angles her down a little.
“Say bye to your dad, Su.”
“Bye, Daddy,” she sleepily says, waving at him before her head rolls back onto Keigo’s shoulder.
Keigo shifts her to the other arm. He presses two fingers to his lips, then to the edge of Touya’s gravestone.
“See ya next time, babe,” he says softly, “Love you.”
Fuyumi goes to do the same, saying her own little goodbye to him before joining them.
“Okay,” Keigo says, adjusting to the now sleeping Suzume, “We ready?”
“Actually, uh…May I…say something to Touya?”
Fuyumi and Keigo exchange a wide eye look.
“O-oh, you…you sure?” Keigo asks.
Fumikage nods.
“Okay, uh. Go – Go ahead.”
Fumikage shuffles to Touya’s gravestone and crouches in front of it. Keigo and Fuyumi turn their heads to avoid embarrassing him any further.
“Hello again, Touya-san. I’m…not quite sure how to phrase this. I’ve never really done this before, so forgive me if I misspeak. I…I wanted to tell you that I’m doing my best to look after Suzume and Takami-san. Not that he needs it – or so he says. We’re all doing fine, so I hope that brings you some comfort wherever you might be. And I promise to keep it that way as long as I still stand. I won’t let anything bad come their way. Whether Takami-san likes it or not.”
Keigo chuckles into Suzume’s hair, brushing some of the strands out of her face as his heart starts to swell.
“I won’t take up any more of your time. Just needed you to know that someone is looking out for them. Goodbye.”
He rises from his spot and hurriedly walks over past them to the car. Keigo and Fuyumi follow after him, sharing an almost tearful laugh. They exit the cemetery. Keigo hands off the keys to Fumikage and tells him to open it up while he talks with Fuyumi. Fumikage goes on ahead.
“It was good seeing you, Yumi. Really, you have no idea how glad I am to have you back,” Keigo says.
“Glad to be back, Kei. And hey, if you ever need anything – anything it all – just give me a call, yeah?”
“Yeah–”
“I mean it! Even if it’s stupid, I’ll be there. I am your sister-in-law, aren’t I?”
Keigo smiles warmly. He reaches out a free arm and pulls Fuyumi into the best hug he can manage with the sleeping child in his arms.
“Thank you.”
Fuyumi grabs his jacket tightly, “No problem, Kei.”
They hold one another for a long time, leaving a million things said and unsaid in this moment – probably never to touch on any of it so they can preserve what good they have left.
Suzume starts to stir, squirming around in Keigo’s arms. Keigo smiles down at her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Fuyumi bends a little, “Bye, Suzu-chan. Sleep well!”
“Drive safe.”
“You too!”
They part ways. Keigo watches Fuyumi until she’s safely in her car before he turns around, closing his jacket around Suzume on their walk to the car. He carefully sits her in the backseat, quietly shutting the door and sliding into the front.
“Man, she must’ve really tired herself out talking today, huh,” Keigo whispers to Fumikage.
“She likes to talk,” Fumikage deadpans.
Keigo adjusts the mirror to see Suzume in the back.
“Yeah, she sure does.”
“Hey.”
Keigo turns his head to Fumikage, “Yeah, Fumi-kun?”
“Are you still okay?”
Keigo looks at him.
He looks at him, then back at Suzume in the rear view, and then at his reflection in the window behind Fumikage. Past that is the cemetery gates.
The place where Touya should have slept.
“Yeah…I’m still okay. I’ll still be okay.”
‘We’re all still here, Touya. All still okay. Hope you are too.’
#my writing#bri writes#writing#fanfic writing#bad writing#fanfiction#dabihawks#single dad hawks#bnha hawks#bnha fuyumi#fuyumi todoroki#fumikage tokoyami#suzume takami#keigo takami#angst#cw depression#cw death#cw death mention#grief mention
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For the LBFaD asks, please:
4. Favourite snacks & drinks when you write?
13. Favourite song/s that inspired you?
19. What idea from the show resonated the most with you and became a major focus in your fic/s?
Thank you!!
4. Favourite snacks and drinks?
Cheese and wine.
I try to pace it though, try to leave the wine after, say, reaching my daily word count goal first. If I drink too much wine too fast it's less crafted nuance and more ... Wade Wilson 😏
13. Favourite songs that inspired?
I'm thinking a lot about Ronghao and my wip Trespass today, and the most listened to songs on his playlist are:
I Ran (So Far Away) by Hidden Citizens
I'll Carry You by Tommee Profit, Stephen Stanley
19. What idea from the show resonated the most with you and became a major part of your fic?
Grief and how it's dealt with.
Ronghao creates a whole different personality.
Dongfang puts himself into a magical coma.
Xiao Lan Hua pretends she's lost her memory to cushion the loss she knows is coming.
How each character tries to cope with grief is so revealing. When I first watched it, it was heartbreaking and cathartic. I lost a friend around 7 months before I first saw Love Between Fairy and Devil. Unlike our characters, though, I had access to grief counselling. I was able to heal without making too many destructive decisions. But I still carry a lot of pain over some things, especially the abominable way some people treated my friend's death, and Trespass is my first attempt to write out my feelings about those things.
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For I Have Struggled with God from Side Wounds
Genesis 32:24-31 (NIV)
24 So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. 26 Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.”
But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
27 The man asked him, “What is your name?”
“Jacob,” he answered.
28 Then the man said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.”
29 Jacob said, “Please tell me your name.”
But he replied, “Why do you ask my name?” Then he blessed him there.
30 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.”
31 The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip.
i'm still agnostic for the record. but i really enjoy that passage
oh and by "i let love by genuine" i mean that i'm gay among other things, and i'm referencing romans 12:9
#lena's poetry archives#poetry#poem#poets on tumblr#grief mention#on faith#on god#on religion#religious themes#god#genesis 32#queer poetry#queer poets#queer#on queerness#lesbian poet#tw: religious themes#tw: religion#gay poetry
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would spams mama been proud of him when he was a big shot? how did she react when it all crashed down?
oh avie was definitely proud, it knew spam was struggling for the whole year before 1997 so she was very relieved and supportive knowing spam was happy after getting such a big break (even if spam didn’t tell it’s mom how they got there). As the years passed Spamton didn’t have as much free time but still called his mom whenever he could, but as Spam’s priorities shifted to heaven and later the neo suit it called their mom less and less. Avie was definitely worried and even tried other ways of visiting Spam by bringing him gifts in person (which Spamton accepted for awhile), but eventually Spamton stopped seeing visitors altogether which left Avie both worried and a bit heartbroken. When Spam’s sales suddenly plummeted and was later evicted from the mansion, its mom didn’t hear about the news until a day or too later (given she lived in cyber fields). Upon hearing the news she was distressed and wondered why Spam didn’t come home like it said they could, so she tried looking for Spamton for several years but eventually gave up. While Avie wasn’t entirely sure if Spamton was dead or not it still grieved for her child.
#my art#spamton#spamtonposting#avie gee#deltarune oc#swatchling#asks#anonymous#my headcanons#death ment cw#death ment#grief cw#grief mention#ask to tag
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** for the record im not posting this because i want sympathy/ pity, im posting this bc the impulse goblins made me**
when i was almost 25, i lost my mom. she was basically everything to me and it took five years before i felt it was alright to live again. my grandma died two years after mom, and i only remember which year she died because she died the weekend of my 27th birthday. i always argued that she died the day between my birthday and my parents’ anniversary because she never approved or appreciated mom until after mom was gone.
grandpa died two years this february, and it was during his last week that i stopped dicking around and returned to the belief in god that mom had raised me on. i always hid from actually following in her footsteps but not because of how she was (she was the best mom that i knew) but because i was a coward. i followed and still follow in her footsteps and tbh i haven’t looked back.
tldr; speaking as a woc i hold my mom in high regards, and life could be way worse than whatever you’re facing or struggling with.
#txt.#grief mention#death mention tw#maybe my brain will let me sleep now that i posted this#also dgaf if yall disagree or block me for this i can’t make your choices for you princess
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So I've been doing some deep thinking for a bit. And by a bit, I mean literally over a year. But I think that this kind of thing deserves some deep introspection. Pondering, if you will. And I wanted to share this with my echo chamber of darling mutuals because I've never really talked about who I am on this blog. I plan to stick to that for the most part by the way.
Now for the focus of this post: Why do I like Mister Sinister so much?
Rather dramatic introduction for that, I know. But really, I've been doing some deep digging to understand why I'm drawn to this POS out of countless characters from countless forms of media.
Firstly, though: there are plenty of problematic elements to Sinister... in general. I could make a whole longpost airing out my greivances over the writing of the Weapon X era in general, but that's not what this post is about. I bring this up to state: I do not condone any of Sinister's actions, or his beliefs regarding eugenics. This should be a no-brainer, but there are plenty of nobrainers running around this website. I digress.
I think there are several elements that draw me to him. First off, the surface level characteristics. He's always been a bitch, no matter what incarnation, and I find that hilarious. To the flamboyant Gillen-Krakoa bitchiness, to the subtle/not-so-subtle bitchiness of even his Claremont days. His unapolagetic creepass is just a delight.
His design is also *chef's kiss*. Dr. Frank N. Furter went through a shredder. The cape? Love it. The diamond motif? Love it. The slutty thigh high boots? Love it. Victorian aesthetic? Love it. Victorian aesthetic while simultaneosly being a massive slut??? Incredible. Sign me up. His pasty bitchass has me kicking my feet, I'll admit it.
Sinister was also a major villain of my favorite media of X-men, the Animated Series. (And he was just as bitchy!) I have the Phalanx Episodes on repeat, I tell you. Funny enough, I thought he was annoying at first, but upon rewatching I had the oh...oh moment. (Mister Sinister turned me transgender pass it on)
He presents some interesting politics too. I don't think this is the post to dive into that, though. I've touched on it a bit before.
But apart from the fun stuff, I need to acknowledge the not fun stuff that drew me to him over time on a more emotional level. Now I'll actually talk about myself, as in Apollo, not just catboy-sinister (lmao).
All my life, I've struggled with emotion. As in, I feel emotion a lot less deeply than other people. Feeling something intensely only comes along once every few months. Most of my days are just spent kind of... numb? Checked out? It's hard to describe. But basically, I just really don't feel stuff.
Sinister was transformed by Apocalypse, which took his regrets, morality, grief, etc. Nowadays he expresses all sorts of emotion, but that wasn't the case before. Before, and especially in Further Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix (origin story), his entire emotional range was wiped or drastically reduced. And lowkey, I felt that? There are plenty of heroes/antiheroes/villains written as manly men who don't need emotion or morals... but that's not something I can project on. A bitchy Victorian themed scientist, though? That checks a box.
Sinister is also just kind of unsettling to a lot of characters in the world. Which honestly, I can relate to. I've literally been told I'm unsettling, lol, and stuff similar to that but a lot less nice. Even though I hadn't done anything.
During my youth, I never really fit in, never made genuine friends who I had a genuine connection with. My friends had always thought we had a connection, but I think differently. In fact, I think I can say that I've never made a genuine connection with someone before. Sounds sad when I say it, but I'm never really lonely. I just don't need that connection. I think Shithead Essex feels the same? He never seems to get lonely either, I'd say.
If I'm honest, it's kind of hard to feel human sometimes. I wonder what I'm missing out on a lot, which I'm sure Sinister never did, because he already experienced that. I feel detached a lot of the time. But I don't feel empty. I have hobbies and interests, likes and dislikes. I just don't feel things like other people do, or connect to them. Don't worry, the psych appointment is coming up in June (it was moved back).
The hardest thing to talk about is our similar grief. I won't talk about what I'm going through, because frankly I don't want to, but I can describe it. I'll be blunt. I know the feeling of watching someone immediately close to you slowly die as you can do nothing about it. So you detach yourself, preferring to feel nothing at all. There is nothing you can do about it, you feel helpless and alone. Essex was a doctor, I am not, but we both went through this similarly, diving into academic work and shutting ourselves off from the world. Of course, his 'academic work' was far more egregious than mine, but the baseline simularity is there.
There's really not a way to wrap this all in a neat bow. It's messy, but I'm a messy bitch, and so is Sinister. I think my final thoughts will be this: you don't NEED a deep, introspective reason to like something. It's nice to have it. It's healthy to do some good introspection from time to time, and critically think about why you like something. But sometimes you just like to look at the sky, or paint, or watch movies. A simple life is an equally fulfilling one, in my opinion. Or look deep in your soul to find WHY you like the sky and painting and movies.
It's up to you.
#woah mama this was long lol#do NOT blame you if you don't read it#feel free to psychoanalyze me#rambles#tw: illness#grief mention
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If you ever think that I’m fully over what happened b/c all I do is post positive shit about him, I sat my ass down and fucking sobbed. I miss him so goddamn much and it still fucking hurts to not have him with me anymore
#tw grief#grief mention#i can’t articulate I tried like 3 times#just know that I’m a mess of words#arah post
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△ What would it take for you to forgive yourself and your brother?
A time machine, maybe. /s
I made a mistake that cost a life. Call it what you want, but I still indirectly killed her. That’s not something you can change. A lot of accidents you can’t fix get you a slap on the wrist. Broken vase? You gotta clean up the pieces, but other than that, it’s nothing to get upset over. A life… isn’t fixable like a vase. I’m sorry but sorry doesn’t change anything.
Why would I forgive my murderer? Who I’ve ran into a few times now during my death. He doesn’t care, he’s not sorry. He’s mad, he’s disowned whatever sense of brotherhood we had afterwards. You can still get along with someone you don’t forgive. We’ve ruined that together.
So no, I’m never forgiving either of us. We’re not good people.
7/10
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