#tw mother death
Text
It’s going to be a long weekend for me. 1 year ago was the last time I saw my mother in person. I spent Mother’s Day 2022 with her and I’m so thankful for those last hugs and laughs. My mother was full of Southern grace and beauty. And she was extremely private and until she was suddenly gone, I had no idea of all the pain and suffering she experienced over those last years. It’s incredible the secrets she kept to not be a perceived burden on her children. So much so, that in the end when she needed us the most, she wouldn’t ask for it. And today, my heart still breaks into a thousand pieces wishing she had given me the tiniest hint she needed me. I miss you, Mama. ❤️
#tw parent death#tw mother death#tw suicide#personal#selfsun#selfie#1 year ago#mother’s day#suicide prevention#check on your friends#check on your loved ones#check on the elderly#check on your children#mental heath support#mentalheathawareness#coping with grief
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Minecraft Diaries: The Descended
"I know ma I know- no going out into the woods and be back before curfew- it's just the movies! It's not like I'm going on a camping trip or something!" Cori Irenia was nineteen years old, still living with their mother, and quite frankly very annoyed at the sheer level of helicopter parent they were dealing with.
"I'm just trying to keep you safe dear! You never know what's out there after all," Hyacinth Irenia was a timid woman, she behaved in ways that gave the impression of a petrified rabbit. An ironic mentality, considering her child's penchant for rabbit-themed clothing, mostly in the form of black or purple hoodies with rabbit ears. Cori could never understand the mentality their mother embodied, but then, they also hadn't ever been allowed outside of their comfy life in a two bedroom apartment.
"I know- I'll be back before ten, I promise, love you ma, I'll see you later," Cori had run out the door before their mother could stop them or respond, barely acknowledging their mother's timid wave.
Cori hadn't been lying of course, they did go to the movies that day, their friends Ophelia and Porter had been, unfortunately, waiting a very long time for them.
"Finally got away from mama bear?" Porter joked, raising his hands in a claw-like pose and making a poor imitation of a bear's roar.
"Porter! Enough, you know Miss Irenia just wants Cori to be safe, that's not a bad thing." Ophelia chided, elbowing him in the stomach.
"Ow! Hey I was just joking around! Cori knows I didn't mean anything by it." Cori let out a laugh and nodded in agreement.
"Ugh- whatever let's just- get to the movie." Ophelia rolled it's eyes, making its way toward the movie theater entrance.
Cori's mother never liked how close the movie theater was to the woods on the outskirts of O'Khasis City, but it was the only place to get the experience, so she, reluctantly, let them go. However the movie theater was one of the few places that Cori could understand their mother's doubts, they often felt a strange. . . presence.
But today would be the day they would face that fear, as Ophelia and Porter had both finally been convinced to join them in exploring the outskirts. Today would be the day that, after the movie, they would finally go into the woods that the O'Khasis police force seemed so intent on blocking off.
"Tasers?"
"Yep,"
"Food and Water?"
"All good!"
"Maps?"
"Ready for making!"
"Then into the forest we go," Cori stated, pulling up the hood of their black rabbit hoodie-dress.
The three of them stuck to the shadows as they made their way toward the canopy of trees just outside the city. There wasn't a sound to be made, even with the oddly sparse offense presence just before the sprawling city streets narrow into a dark and foggy forest.
"Some say this forest used to be mostly ocean y'know, like the land itself has changed, spawned anew somehow," Ophelia said, giving the woodlands an awed once-over.
"That's crazy- a world can't just change at random like that- what next, I can punch trees to get wood now?" Porter said with a laugh.
"Well we've never tried to punch a tree before have we?" Cori said, proceeding immediately to wind up a fist and drive it into a nearby tree. . .
Which, as it would happen, spontaneously collapsed. The three stood their, dumbstruck, Cori looked down at their knuckles- not a single drop of blood to be seen.
Unlike Porter who, upon his hypothesis being proven correct, had decided to perform a retest- with. . . much less successful results.
"Porter! Oh you stupid- if Cori jumped off a bridge would you!." Ophelia said, shaking it's head in exasperation.
"If Cori can knock a tree down in one punch without bloody knuckles than yeah I'd jump off a bridge with them," Porter said, clearly trying to ignore his obviously bloody knuckles.
"I don't recommend that- I- don't even know how I did this. . ." Cori muttered.
Ophelia finished bandaging Porter's injured knuckles, and the trio continued on further into the woods.
Further. . .
And further. . .
And. . .
"CORI AZALEE IRENIA!" Cori froze at the sound of their mother's angry shouts, their mother rarely sounded so furious.
"O-oh uh- hi- mom-" Cori seemed frozen to the spot, their limbs couldn't move, their eyes didn't leave the furious frame of their mother.
"I knew it I knew it I KNEW you were going to go out into the woods- what were you thinking! And bringing these two! They've already been injured! I expected more from you." Cori felt their lip quivering, they hated crying in front of their friends.
"Well I- we-" Cori couldn't seem to muster any words to defend themself. Luckily, or unluckily for them, they didn't have to. A strange shadowy figured appeared behind their mother, who turned around as she noticed her child's eyes widen, face going sickly pale.
"Run. All three of you- Run. Get to the ruins of Phoenix Drop as soon as you can- keep heading north." Cori only had a few seconds to give their mother a worried glance before the three of them finally made a break for it.
"Phoenix Drop? That's not even a real place!" Porter said, clearly baffled.
"Yes it is! I've seen it! In my dreams!" Ophelia shot back.
"I. . . I think I know where it is- I know what she wants me to find-" Cori said, looking between their two friends and then turning their attention straight forward.
"There! Straight ahead!" Cori said, pointing to a white blurry shape in the distance.
"It. . . looks like some kind of statue. . ." Ophelia said, now almost equally as confused as Porter.
"It is. . . of a woman, Lady Irene, Lord Aphmau. . ." Cori said, kneeling down in front of the plaque at the base of the statue.
"Irene. . . that- that sounds like your last name. . ." Ophelia said, shifting it's feet in the grass.
"Exactly like yours, child. . ." a chill went down the hooded child's spine as they got back to their feet, turning to see the same shadow from before.
"I am not here to hurt you. . . yet, it wouldn't be as fun when you've only just started your journey, but know this, you have many enemies young one, enemies who's pasts lie far beneath the earth, they will come for you, they will all come for you. Your bloodline is stained with the blood of friends and foes alike, they will not be so keen on leaving you to rest. Beware the living, respect the dead, and perhaps you will not suffer the same fate as those before you." the shadow dropped something large that made a sickening cracking and squishing sound as it landed. It was with a horrified sense of unease that Cori realized that they were looking at their mother's body, drained of life, nearly skin and bones save for the now all to obvious muscular system within.
The trio didn't go back to the city, how could they? If that. . . thing. . . was looking for them. Hyacinth's body was buried, and a marker was placed using remnants of tree branches from trees Cori had knocked over. They'd managed to place the trees strategically enough that a structure of some sense could be built up, giving the three shelter as they processed the information they'd just learned.
"So you're. . ." Ophelia and Porter spoke at the same time, unusual for the two of them.
"The descendant of Lady Irene. . ." Cori responded, voice barely above a whisper.
Just what that entailed. . . their understanding of had only just begun to develop.
#cori writes#minecraft diaries: the descended#oc: cori azalee irenia#oc: porter justice cohen#oc: ophelia gutrot princeton#tw death#tw corpse#tw mother death#tw parent death
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
(a long-time maid sticks her head into his office after knocking softly) "P-Prime Minister... a moment of your time?" her nervous voice wavered, trying to keep her voice down. "We were doing some cleaning in one of the old storage rooms to repurpose, Her Majesty's orders... We umm... found some old sketch portraits of you as a baby in a trunk... They are umm..." she paused trying to be delicate "They are quite cute, but you may not find them... favorable to your current image, at least... but they were signed by Her Late Lady Vestra so we believe she's the one who made them. There are also some old gowns, a memory book, what we assume is a diary, and a few small jewelry pieces...What do you want us to do with them? We have not told Her Majesty yet..." she tapped two fingers together shyly
Ah. I should have expected relics like these would be unearthed sooner or later.
I trust your discretion. While I know that gossip among the staff is inevitable, I would greatly appreciate secrecy around the existence of these items as well as my decision regarding them. You’re correct in that these are decidedly sentimental, serving no purpose and indeed hindering my current efforts... All the more reason to have the sketches, garments, and assorted belongings delivered to my quarters to be dealt with properly.
...Thank you.
#dealt with properly = hidden away forever so he can secretly be a mama's boy#which he is allowed to be SO THERE#he's just shy about it this silly shadow lol#cute anon#ask hubert von vestra#ask hubert#hubert von vestra#fe3h hubert#fe16 hubert#fe hubert#fire emblem hubert#lorraine von vestra#lady vestra#mom von vestra#tw mother death#cw mother death#soft hubert von vestra
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
I woke up and apparently the moon was gonna hit the earth, but everyone was like, really chill about it.
I talked to my mom and she said: “Yeah, the moon will hit the earth in about three months, you still have time to say goodbye to the people who you care about."
I was like "damn”, and then I said: “How do you guys knew before me?” And my mom said: “Its because we watch the news and you don´t.”
#dream#text#March 30th 2024#apocalypse tw#end of the world#death tw#mom#family#catastrophe#mother#queueueueueueueueueueueueueue
14K notes
·
View notes
Text
death is insane. wdym i’ll never see my grandmother again
#she’s in her chair in the den cant nobody tell me nothing ok#death tw#grief#what’s this house without my grandmother in it? (all the people she left behind)#i cried this morning while eating grits she taught my mother how to make. love is so big when i think of it like that#i thought i heard her walker clack in the hallway last night.#she wears glasses & we have to decide where to keep them#grief is so strange#i can’t keep crying by myself (i’ll be crying for the rest of my life)#love is carrying on. i think.
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Grieving under the cut. Definitely tw tbh
My mom died yesterday morning and every time I try to do something other than cry (which is causing me extreme headaches) my brain just goes "What the fuck is wrong with you, you're trying to eat? Distract yourself? Your mother just fucking died, and you're making mac an cheese? what's wrong with you? Your sisters are now alone and your grandmother, who just lost her DAUGHTER by the way, is handling all of this alone because you're 2000+ miles away and broke. So what are you doing? Making mac an cheese while your mother is dead."
I know losing a parent suddenly is a near universal experience. But I'm not comforted by that.
I'm not religious, and I don't believe in any type of after-life, so I don't have comfort there.
I'm not just grieving my mother, she was 44. I'm grieving the whole rest of her life. Of my life that I wanted to share with her...
I'm just fucked up and sad.
1 note
·
View note
Text
CW: DEATH MENTION, BODY HORROR (kinda)
.
.
.
.
I just love M3 Porky being as nightmarish as possible :)
#coincidentally posting this on the same day nintendo denied us mother 3. again#mother 3#mother 3 fanart#lucas mother 3#porky minch#mother series#tw death mention#tw body horror#cw death mention#cw body horror
400 notes
·
View notes
Photo
SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT
TW: DEATH, BLOOD, VIOLENCE
D20 Neverafter Eps 3+4
I'm more in love with this series every episode
I've watched 3 and 4 TWICE now holy SHIT the weaving and the background and the absolute mind-numbing d r e a d
I love it.
#dimension 20 spoilers#d20 spoilers#neverafter spoilers#little red riding hood#ylfa snorgelsson#prince gerard of greenleigh#pinocchio#puss in boots#rosamund du prix#mother timothy goose#cinderella#horror#tw: death#tw: blood#tw: violence#cait may
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
when i was like 5, i went out on the farm with my grandfather early one morning, and after a while my mother was like “huh should probably go check they’re okay” and my grandmother was like “guarantee they’re already into some fuck shit”
so my mother goes on a little walk, and she finds us!
we’re both transfixed by a feral goat that has died in a swamp, and in a state of partial decay, has become home to wasps. my grandfather is explaining to 5 year old me in depth what water insects are probably quite pleased about the goat. i’m nodding and announcing i want to be like the goat one day.
my mother goes “you know what? absolutely not.” and goes back to the house to get more coffee
#it was so cool! i was fascinated by it#my mother and grandmother were like please. guys please. don’t be weird for one fucking minute.#katie rambles#tw animal death#tw gore
316 notes
·
View notes
Text
BRACKET 1
FINAL BATTLE
TW: child abuse, murder, mass murder, physical abuse, torture, waterboarding, electrocution, cult, animal cruelty, animal death
Mrs. Momose propaganda
Titania propaganda
#worst mother throwdown#worst fictional mother throwdown#amane momose#milgram#milgram project#october daye titania#october daye#tw child abuse#tw murder#tw mass murder#tw physical abuse#tw cult#tw waterboarding#tw electrocution#tw animal cruelty#tw animal death
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
Countdown Pt 2
Follow up to this thing I wrote yesterday
People always acted funny when they saw his timer. They usually reacted in two ways- either they tried to pretend that they didn’t see it, or they said how sorry they were.
That’s not enough time.
Oh I wish you had more time.
Only a few days? I’m sorry honey.
But Steve had never been upset about it. Sure, he only had less than a week with his soulmate, but that only meant that their time was more treasured. They understood that they had to make every second count.
Wasn’t that a good thing?
“You’ll understand someday, Steven,” His mother had said quietly into her wine glass one night when it was just the two of them at home. She was sitting on the couch, flipping through their photo album idly, holding Steve hostage with stories about how good things used to be. How in love his parents were, once upon a time. How happy they used to be before the job, before the promotion, before the big house in Loch Nora.
(They really mean before they had him. Not that either of his parents will ever admit that)
“You’ll understand,” She repeated in a whisper, taking another long sip.
“What will I understand?” Steve replied. Usually he tried to stay as still and silent as possible on nights like these, did his best to pretend like he didn’t exist, waiting for her to finally wave a hand and release him to his room. But this time he didn’t get it.
“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,” She spat out, holding up her right arm and showing him her timer. All zeroes. His mother’s soulmate had died when he was ten, but her timer had counted down. She had met him at some point in her life though. She knew him, but she hadn’t lived a life with him. Whoever he was, he had died alone.
Steve had always wondered about that, always wanted to ask. If she knew who her soulmate was, why not be with them? If she had found that person, why not make every second count?
“It’s a curse,” His mother had said, continuing when Steve didn’t say anything in response, finishing what was left in her glass, “Especially yours. I remember the first time I saw your timer. It was right after you were born. I was holding you against me, you were so little then, so sweet, and I looked down, and I saw it. Five days. What kind of God would only give my baby five days? Not a good one,”
Steve wasn’t exactly sure what kind of God was out there. If he was being fully honest, he wasn’t sure he believed in God at all.
He believed….in the universe. He believed in something linking them all, something that knew them and wanted them to find the person that completed their lives. The Universe knew that Steve and his soulmate were strong enough to handle five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes. That unnamed unexplained universe knew that they would know what to do with that time.
Steve had plans for his five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes.
When he found that person, the first thing he was going to do was hold them for at least five of those minutes. Steve loved hugs, and his parents hated them, but his soulmate would love them too. He knew that for sure.
So a five minute hug, and then he’d ask where they wanted to go. The two of them would travel to wherever his soulmate wanted. Steve had the money, he’d been saving every single birthday and Christmas check he had gotten since he was nine. By now, it was more than enough for two tickets to anywhere in the world.
They would spend the whole plane ride talking and getting to know each other. They would laugh, probably a little too loudly, and annoy everyone else around them with how infatuated they were with each other.
Maybe they’d go to Paris. Stroll through the city, eat pastries, stuff like that. Maybe they would end up in some remote part of the world where it felt like they were the only two people on the planet.
Maybe they’d just stay in Hawkins. Hole up in his house, listen to records, swim in the pool, or lie in bed all day.
A hug, possibly a trip, and after that it was up to his soulmate. Steve wasn’t going to monopolize their five days with just his ideas. He had a bunch of suggestions if they didn’t know what they wanted, but those were the only two things he really cared about.
He didn’t hug his soulmate when they finally laid eyes on each other. Steve didn’t even realize his timer had started counting down.
He was too busy thinking about the broken bottle being held against his neck.
By the time he and Eddie both realized that their timers had started, they were already in the thick of things. Steve had seen it while Nancy was wrapping her sweater around his waist to try and stem some of the blood coming gushing out of him from the bat bites. He had put both hands in his hair just to try and give himself some other pain to ground with, and his timer caught his eye.
It was already on three days.
He had only met one new person in the last two days. One new person who always hid his timer under a leather cuff around his wrist.
Steve did go through with his plans, but it was a funhouse mirror version of them, twisted and wrong.
They did hug, but it wasn’t something soft or intimate. Eddie had woken Steve up from a nightmare on their second to last day, and Steve had laid in his arms shaking for two of their final forty eight hours.
They did go on a trip of sorts, if stopping the apocalypse in an alternate dimension counted as a trip. They went, but they didn’t stay together.
God, if Steve had a chance to do it all over again, he never would have let Eddie out of his sight.
There was no avoiding fate, no changing what The Universe had planned. Steve has always been aware of that. He’s known that as fact his entire life. But still. Maybe things would have gone the way they were supposed to if they had been together.
Because it was supposed to be him that died.
His entire life he had known it was going to be him.
Steve has imagined it a thousand different ways. A random heart attack, or a freak accident, maybe even saving his soulmate’s life somehow. He had never even thought to consider it might be his soulmate saving him instead.
It was perfect. Dustin and Eddie would be far away from the danger, and Robin and Nancy were going to be just fine. Steve had no idea when it was coming, but it was going to happen in this final fight. They would win and he would have to do something stupid to make sure they did. Something off plan that would end up killing him.
Except, he didn’t do anything that wasn’t in the plan.
It went off without a hitch. Well, there was a pretty scary moment where there had been vines around his neck choking him, but the rest had gone exactly as they wanted it too. He and Robin had torched the monster, and then Nancy shot him in the head.
Vecna was dead, burning to ash on the floor in front of them. They did it. They actually fucking did it.
The elation of that was unlike anything Steve had ever experienced. The bone deep relief of knowing everyone he loved was finally safe, that this was finally over. That he had somehow lived to get to see it all.
He had lived.
He…..he was still alive.
Steve hadn’t even thought to look down at his timer. He had been so busy just reacting, being in the moment of the fight. The fight was over. They had won. Everyone was safe now.
Steve was still alive.
He looked at his timer. All zeroes.
How long had it been all zeroes?
Steve took an experimental breath, and then another. Still breathing. Still alive. He looked down at his wrist. Still all zeroes. It was like he was looking at a puzzle with only one piece left, holding that last piece in his hand, but unable to make it fit for some reason. There was just something that was so wrong.
There were two options when it came to Timers. You died, and your timer vanished, or your timer hit zero, and your soulmate died. There were two options.
Steve had just never considered the other one.
And by the time he ran out of the Creel House, it was already too late. Steve knew that. He was running anyway. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw Eddie for himself. His mother’s voice filled his ears the entire time.
“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,”
Steve had promised himself he would never think about his timer that way. Promised that he would never be like his mother.
But she might have been right about this.
#Steve harrington#Eddie munson#steddie#steddie au#steddie soulmate au#tw: major character death#tw: death#stranger things#st#st4#stranger things 4#stranger things soulmate au#countdown au#Steve and eddie#timer au#Steve and Eddie#Steve harringtons mother#Steve harringtons parents#Liam speaks up#Writing(withacapitalW)
442 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buffy and Giles + a "heartbreaking" song about a parent pleading for more time with their child.
— "Father Time," Kimberly Akimbo
Buffy the Vampire Slayer + theatre — 6/?
Screencaps from here and here.
#btvsedit#btvs#dailybtvs#dailybuffysummers#buffy x giles#buffy summers#rupert giles#buffy the vampire slayer#kimberly akimbo#*mine#buffy musicals#i did edit two of the words because this is a mother and daughter song#which just does not work haha#tw child death
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
god that diary entry really is so tragic though. because shauna’s right. she does subject herself to the worst parts of it and she never gets recognized for it. it’s just “where the fuck is the crazy grieving girl with our food” from the start of season two. but she keeps doing it. she steps forward to be the one to kill natalie and cut up javi even though no one asks, even though it clearly kills her. she is the only one willing to do what needs to be done and she’s so hurt that she doesn’t get recognized for it but she only tells her diary because of course she’s going to keep doing it. of course she’ll keep stepping into that role time and time again so no one else has to, even if they never once acknowledge the toll it takes on her. of course she’ll make sure everyone is fed. of course she’ll tell everyone else to leave when the hard part comes. of course she’ll yell to wake everyone else up when the cabin is on fire before getting her things and getting out. shauna can be so crass at times and some of it is genuine but some of it is such an act, some of it is protective. of course she’ll keep going after she loses so much. of course she’s so openly tired of everyone and of course she’ll do anything to keep them alive. of course she’ll be the fire alarm. of course she’ll be the butcher. of course she’ll be the villain so the group can still have their martyr. of course she feels she deserves recognition and of course she’ll never ask for it
#connected: of course she’s the mother of the teenage girl#I’m obsessed w her#never has a character given me SO much to think about holy shit#shauna shipman is THAT character#her trauma is so violent and the others look away and judge her#but it’s shaunas capacity for violence that saves them#yellowjackets#yellowjackets spoilers#shauna shipman#death tw#cannibalism tw#yj
220 notes
·
View notes
Text
I was hanging out with my mom (who has been dead for 3 years) and she gave me a sword and said, "Take this - you’ll need it," Zelda-style and then I fought a dragon.
599 notes
·
View notes
Text
oh deer
141 notes
·
View notes
Text
a sad steddie ficlet for mother's day
tw: discussion of the death of a parent
Eddie Munson doesn’t have an easy time of it on Mother’s Day.
Steve figures as much as he gingerly walks up the front steps of the Munson’s home and raps on the front door. He’d woken up far too early for a day off work and perhaps selfishly, he felt lonely waking up to an empty house on Mother’s Day, a day he hadn’t spent with his own mother in three years.
As he knocks on the front door, the fly-screen frame making a tinny sound under his knuckles, he tries to convince himself to be thankful that his mother is here.
Well, not in Hawkins. But she's somewhere. He just isn’t sure where seeing as yet another business trip turned into a getaway weekend with friends that turned into an exotic vacation before going right back around to being an extended business trip.
He stops mid-knock, panic creeping into his chest as he considers the early hour - 8am being far too early for notorious not-before-noon Eddie.
But before he can take a step backwards and slowly make his way to the safety of his precious Beemer parked conspicuously right outside, the door opens revealing a worried and rushed Wayne, dressed for work.
The man closes his eyes, seemingly relieved at Steve’s presence. He makes quick work of scooping up his work boots (always sitting just inside the door) and crowds Steve on the small front stoop.
“Steve,” he whispers, leaving the door ajar, “Glad you’re here, my boy. Got called into work.”
“Is… is Eddie up yet?” Steve stutters.
“He’s inside watching TV,” Wayne replies, voice low, “Gotta warn you, kid, today is very hard for him.”
He cranes his neck to peek inside. Eddie is sitting on the couch, cradling something in his lap with a throw blanket over his knees. His eyes are glazed over, staring at the TV as he twists strands of his hair around his finger.
“Eddie,” Wayne calls, voice laced with the faint hope of a response, “I’ll be back tonight, okay?”
Eddie gives a half-hearted grunt, “Whatever.”
Wayne forces himself down the front steps and off to his truck, hesitating one last time as he opens his truck door and waves goodbye.
Steve steps inside, giving a small and admittedly just plain stupid wave from his hip. Eddie's eyes snap straight at him, glaring like he could shoot laser beams from his eyeballs if he tried hard enough.
“Oh, great,” he says, feigning a harsh edge as he rolls his eyes, “You’re here.”
Steve knows this tactic well, Eddie had done it a lot when he was recovering in hospital. But the pang in his chest, the feeling of rejection, of being turned away, hurts nonetheless.
He nods, more to himself to force himself into the kitchen to fix Eddie some breakfast. He decides on a bowl of Honeycombs, no milk. He will settle for the odd crunching mouthful of dried cereal bits if it means Eddie eating something.
“Why aren’t you at home serving up Mommy’s breakfast in bed?” Eddie seethes as Steve places the cereal box back in the cupboard.
He ignores him for as long as it takes him to move from the kitchen to the couch.
“Eds, my parents aren’t home,” he replies, letting the cereal bowl hit the coffee table with a pointed thud.
Eddie shirks away, clutching a big square book to his chest.
It’s a photo album.
After a long moment of only the sounds of a rather noisy toy commercial on the television filling the room, Eddie sighs heavily.
“I know.”
“Do you need me to leave you alone?” Steve asks, tone even and serious, despite not wanting to do such a thing, especially as his question conjures up a well of tears in Eddie’s already glassy eyes.
“Steve, I…” Eddie starts, voice low as he scrubs a hand over his face, “I won’t be very good company today.”
“It’s okay,” he says, lowering onto the couch.
He looks Eddie over - he is restless. Knee bopping on the spot, hair more matted than Steve initially thought. He isn't wearing his signature rings or his wristwatch. And he looks like he hasn't had an ounce of sleep.
Eddie mumbles something he doesn’t quite catch and shakes his head, the frizz and tangle caused by worried fingers adding an extra bounce. He fluffs the blanket to cover them both.
“Can we just sit here?” he asks, leaning in.
He wipes his nose on his (an old blue sweater of Steve’s that had long ceased being his own) sleeve.
Steve wraps a protective arm around him as he shifts closer, “Of course, baby.”
Eddie snuffles, barely getting out his words for tears, “I was going to look at pictures of my Mom.”
He covers his face with his hands, letting the album go. Reflexes kicking in, Steve catches it just before it slides off the blanket. He sets it by his side, leaning in close to ask, “How about I take some pictures out for you to look at, hmm?”
“‘Kay,” he agrees meekly.
Steve soon discovers why Eddie has been sitting here just holding the photo album labelled 'Precious Memories'. It is filled with pictures of his father, Al - mostly looking like a fun-loving young man, far from Eddie’s descriptions and Wayne’s understandably harsh words. There are many pictures of Al and Wayne, often featuring an older man Steve assumes is their father.
He can’t help the odd giggle that escapes him looking at pictures of baby Eddie, including one of him crying with a face covered in chocolate.
Eddie barely registers, instead looking ahead to the Sunday morning cartoons on the television. Usually, he’d be laughing at Looney Tunes outwitting each other with sticks of dynamite, but today he just curls in on himself further and further, pulling the blanket up tight to his neck.
There is only a sprinkling of photographs of Eddie’s mother, starting about halfway through the book. Her dark brown hair is striking, similar to Eddie’s, only straightened out with its styling.
Steve gets to work flapping back stubborn sheets of acetate stuck to thick pages in order to free each picture. He picks them out one by one until he has a pile of about a dozen, all curling from years-old backing glue and tape strips.
“Here you go, Eds.”
He hands over a picture of Eddie, aged about six and dressed as a witch alongside his beaming mother donning a long grey beard and an electric blue wizard's hat.
A smile teases at Eddie’s lips, skin pulling at the scar on his jawline.
He reaches for a single Honeycomb.
“Thank you, Steve,” he says, pressing the photograph to his chest.
#tw: death of a parent#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#lilys ficlets#wayne munson#eddie munson's mother
163 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
hoangfngocjnhi
Hoangfngocjnhi
adhdtozier
"but he knew well enough."
knnu79
Untitled
ximajica
SLaddicted
dreamgothgirl
Bad Kitty Productions