#character death and grieving

[o-wild-west-wind]

you know, I’m just gonna come out and say it. reason 182639302 why I’m sad ofmd was canceled: I would’ve liked to see a post-Izzy world.

you can stab me in the face now.

[pianokantzart]

If Mario or Luigi lost their sibling, I can easily see them moving into a bedroom in Peach's castle and living there permanently.

There is no way either one of them would do well in an empty house when they've had each other their entire lives, and there is absolutely no chance they are going to be able to navigate a home where everything is color coded to emphasize the empty spaces where their sibling used to be without it tearing them apart.

[catch-me-red-handed]

I want someone to write what would’ve happened if Logan hadn’t managed to break the door down when he did and Wade did manage to grab the other thingy (my brains blanking pls forgive me) and like Logan having to deal with being the anchor person in a whole new world without anyone again

[justdrawlynn11]

Have King Moon at his 43rd birthday celebration/his coronation! He absolutely DOES NOT want to be here and wants to just go to his room and have a mental breakdown because his twin legitimately died less than a day ago-

But, by the unfortunate laws/rules of this kingdom + not being able to cancel the celebration on such a short notice, Moon unfortunately has to get coronated at the next big celebration, the royal birthday…

He’s just trying to keep composure…

[ariadne-mouse]

Oh god are they gonna work this into the animated intro somehow once Sam has a new character. Emotional damage all over again

[yourlocalderp]

I'm ngl, I'm kinda pissed at looking at people on Twitter going "drdt fans after a character dies in DANGANRONPA" and it's a gif of like a man slamming his fist into a wall out of frustration cause like yeah. that IS me after the confirmation of ace going to die, so what? God forbid a character be so complex and well written and have his arc go down so beautifully that you think "he so me fr!!"

yes I'm upset ace is the culprit, no I might not drop drdt cause I do have other favorites even though ace was my #1, please remember that people form genuine connections to characters, and it's not right to be like "oh wow your leaving the random cause YOUR favorite is going to die.....heh couldn't be me" like if you think that plz stfu as long as the person isn't attacking drdt dev about this then there's no goddamn reason to be complaining about OTHER PEOPLE'S CHOICES.

tldr: uuuh if your upset about ace fans being upset and your one of those people who'd go "drdt fans when a character dies in a death game😒😒😔😬😬" dni and stfu

[read-write-thrive]

part 1

“Waiting for the other shoe to drop”, while pessimistic, seemed to be a running theme in Charles Rowland’s life. It wasn’t really a phrase he heard when he was alive, to be fair, but at some point he’d come across it (probably hanging out with too many Americans, but can’t remember for sure) and it felt a little too much accurate. His dad’s come home angry again? Time to wait for the fallout. He’d gotten written up at school for not paying attention? Just a disaster waiting to happen. He goes against his best mate’s advice? There he goes, literally torn from Charles’s arms and back to hell, just as he’d said. Maybe the last one was a little dramatic, but that’s the gist.

The looming anxiety of it all usually slid off of him for the minor stuff, and was otherwise bottled up and shoved far away for the heavier stuff, but regardless he didn’t let it show. Have to keep up appearances and all. He’d only had one real instance of all those emotions blowing up (and he still blames the Night Nurse for all that mess) so he thought he was doing a bang-up job keeping himself together.

That was until his dad died. Yeah, it was rough, and he ended up berating the old man on his death bed, which probably was a shitty thing to do. And yeah, he’d needed a bit of a cry afterwards. So what? Blokes cried sometimes, and he was man enough to admit to his emotions and all that. The girls had done a good job of emphasising that he (and, mostly, Edwin) needed to express their emotions more. That it was healthier to let it out than bottle it all up. Not sure if they still needed healthy habits as ghosts, but it wasn’t hurting anyone. Just a little uncomfortable.

All that to say, it felt like his friends had been treading on eggshells around him ever since his dad died. Which was infuriating, yeah, but also didn’t make sense to him. Especially after he’d already cried—did they expect him to get angry again? To blow up over a dead man? He thought he’d gotten it out of his system just fine, so getting these weird vibes was starting to stress him out more than anything. He’d resolved to bring it up on their next movie night and ask why they were acting funny—didn’t want to mess up a case, after all.

However, he didn’t get the chance before it all came crashing down on his head. Ultimately, Edwin was the messenger.

“Charles, I—“ he took an unnecessary breath, “Have you checked on your mother lately?”

His undead heart went cold, but his default smiley ways were still stuck on, “Not really, why?”

Edwin’s eyes were sad, which was never good. He didn’t emote unless it was serious, “I think you need to visit her. She’s not faring well.”

And so they went. Turns out everyone hadn’t been waiting for Charles to blow up, but rather for his mother to pass and then for him to break down all over again. Edwin had been checking on her daily since his father’s passing, deducing correctly that Charles would be too swept up in the emotions around his dad dying to remember that his mum wasn’t getting any younger.

The girls weren’t free until the evening, but they promised to stay in touch and maybe visit later if they could (particularly if they could figure out how to visit the Hospice without rousing suspicion). And so Edwin and Charles were on their own.

Charles had rushed into the room, as if running at the issue would evade the emotions of it, or as if getting there quickly would reveal it was all a lie—neither of which were true.

Instead, he was face to face with a dying woman with some resemblance to the photo on the mantle in the house he grew up in—his grandmother, or maybe his great grandmother, or some favourite aunt, he couldn’t remember anymore— hair gone fully white, pulled back into a tight bun so as to keep her curls controlled, keeping her gaunt, sleeping face exposed. Unlike that photo, this woman was in a hospital gown, tucked into sterile sheets, with a tube under her nose to help her breathe. Gone were her usually loud and ornate earrings, her bare fingernails stained from years of colour. There was a singular blanket laid across her lap, on top of the sheets, that almost looked more familiar than the woman it covered. It was her, but apparently he hadn’t stopped to just look at her any time recently, if ever. It felt too much like looking at a ghost, as ironic as that felt.

She was awake, but halfway to dozing. There was someone at her side, adjusting the blanket and murmuring reassurances in what was definitely Punjabi. It had been so long since he’d heard it, added to having never properly learned anything besides English under the threat of his father, that he couldn’t make out the words. That realisation left a stinging feeling in his chest.

“A relation of yours?” Edwin asked at a whisper, coming up to stand beside Charles, almost entirely copying his position from that fateful hospital room. It didn’t seem as if either of the room’s living occupants had noticed them.

Charles blindly reached for Edwin’s hand for comfort, not looking away from the scene in front of him and matching his partner’s volume, “No idea. Don’t think I’ve seen them before.”

Edwin hummed, “Perhaps a little too young to have met you. Or someone your mother reconnected with recently—“

“I’m not really in the mood for deductions, love.” Charles said, not unkindly. Everything felt too fragile to be picked apart like that.

“Right. Apologies.” Edwin squeezed his hand and went quiet.

Charles squeezed his hand back in forgiveness, joining in the silence. He kept going back to what the stranger was saying, familiar consonants both soothing and devastating. What kind of a son was he, failing to comfort his dying mother, unable to speak her mother tongue, a stranger to his relatives? His tears were thankfully silent.

It took much longer for his mother to see them than his father. Several days passed, with the mystery relative coming and going more days than not, and the usual nurses and caregivers administering various care. Over time, the boys (the girls couldn’t figure out how to enter the space, but were supportive from their distance) had learned that the stranger’s name was Sangeeta, and she was a niece of his mother’s who’d noticed her steady decline and was the one to take her to hospital and then to hospice care. Charles’s mother had apparently stopped taking care of herself after her husband’s death, and she had refused other care, so at this point all they could do was make her comfortable. Charles spent a whole morning ranting to Edwin about it, how unfair it was that her life was so tied up in his asshole father’s that she wasn’t even trying to live after he was gone. Edwin, the deeply kind person he was, had let Charles rant until he ran out of steam, then gently pointed out that she’d been under the thumb of his father for far longer than Charles was, and that she’d now had to mourn her husband and her only child, which presumably takes a toll. Charles had started crying before Edwin had even finished talking, and Edwin had held him close on the plush sofa for the rest of the day.

It was hard to tell if it was a comfort or not when she finally saw them, but Charles decided that wasn’t important to think about right now, if ever. Right now, his mother could see him for the first time in forty years, and they didn’t know for how much longer. And yet, with all this time to prepare, he still found himself speechless when the time finally came.

“Mere laal,” She beat him to the punch, eyes glazed over but clearly locked on Charles, “I am glad to see you again, beta. It’s been so long.”

Charles let out a shakey breath, “Hi, mum. It’s—well— it’s been longer for you. I’ve visited a few times, over the years.”

She reached out a sinewy hand on a bone-thin arm, and Charles flew to the seat by her side, keeping his focus to make sure his hand stayed solid in her grasp. He vaguely noticed Edwin taking the seat beside him.

“Such a handsome boy. You were so young.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Charles, all anxious energy and nerves, tears of his own threatening to spill, was quick to respond, “It’s alright, mum, I’m alright. No need to cry over me.”

She huffed, “Nonsense. You were the light of my life. Who else should I cry over?”

They were both crying at this point, tears streaming as they sniffled in turns. Edwin laid a careful hand on Charles’s back in a show of comfort.

However, that seemed to give Charles an idea, “No, really mum, it’s okay! See the bloke next to me? His name’s Edwin, and he’s been by my side all these years! He’s the one who first found me, and we’ve been helping people ever since. It’s been aces. Not sad one bit.”

Edwin stiffened at the mention, then all but froze when her eyes turned to him. He knew he looked night and day from Charles, and if he started talking she was bound to find him as abrasive as everyone always did, so why had Charles pointed him out!? If ghosts could sweat, Edwin would be drowning in his nerves.

Her gaze stayed on him for a long moment before she broke the silence, “He’s been good to you? Not like those other boys.”

Edwin wasn’t sure what to do with that, but thankfully Charles was quick on the uptake, “Not like them at all. He’s— he’s the best, mum. None of those tossers could even compare.”

“Because the boys— the ones who—“

Charles gripped her hand, “I know, I know. He’s a genuinely good person, Edwin. I was bad at picking friends in life, but thankfully I chose well with this one.”

His attempt at joking was overlooked completely by her, “Those boys, how could they do that? I knew their families, John Parish’s mother went to your funeral… Such cruel boys…”

“I’m alright, mum, I’m okay.” Charles kept going, smiling even as the tears continued, “It’s all in the past.”

“I should’ve fought harder for you… kept you close… mere laal, taken from me…” She was sobbing, her whole frame shaking with hiccoughs.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Charles took a steadying breath, “You know I couldn’t have stayed in that house, mum. And no one could’ve known those lads would go that far…”

Her sobs were worse for a moment, then stilled suddenly as she fought for oxygen. She coughed weakly.

At that, Charles’s crying intensified, despite all he did to keep himself together. He could tell. He knew what was coming. It was still devastating to see. Edwin pulled him in for a proper side hug, taking care not to jostle his grip on his mum.

This did not go unnoticed, and the dying woman suddenly smiled, as if the devastation was forgotten with the oxygen. She looked back to her son, “I am glad you have been happy, beta. You deserved happiness.”

“I’m happy, I’ve been so happy mum, I promise,” Charles tried to calm himself down, stuck in his reassuring her.

“Mere laal, light of my life, darling boy,” She breathed with difficulty, smile dropping, “Can you forgive me? I failed you…”

Charles’s frame shook with his vigorous nodding, “I forgive you, mum, you did the best you could, I love you so much—“

Her weak smile returned, glinting in the lamplight of the evening room, “Thank you, beta. You were too good for me, for this world…”

“All because of you, I swear it, all thanks to you—“

“Charles.”

“I love you, I’m sorry I wasn’t a better son, I’m could’ve been better, gotten you out of that house—“

“Charles, darling.”

“You deserved better, I love you, I forgive you—“

“My love, the light—“

Edwin was right, a deep blue light had filled the space, illuminating the still body of his mother. Her face was pulled into a slight smile, eyes closed, as if she was having a pleasant dream, even as the tear tracks dried on her cheeks.

“No, no I’m not ready—“ Charles immediately started to protest, gripping onto her hand like a lifeline.

“Charles—“

“I only just got to see her! She only just got free of him! No, no, I won’t—“

Edwin gently but solidly grabbed under Charles’s arms, “I’m sorry my love but we should go—“

Charles was nothing but hysterics by this point, head thudding onto the sheets for a moment before Edwin fully pulled him away. He said more, but Charles was too overwhelmed to process it properly, buzzing in his ears and headache behind his eyes making him feel alive in all the worst ways. Maybe it was just the first time he had cried this hard in his afterlife, or maybe being this close to an active death did something to their physiology—

Everything was a blur as they returned to the flat, Edwin all but carrying him through the mirror so that he wouldn’t get lost on the way. They collapsed onto the sofa, extra large cushions taken up by their ghostly presences. The girls were already there, and joined into the cuddle pile without another word (or perhaps with a few, Charles still wasn’t all there yet). Edwin jostled them all slightly to better position everyone before settling in again, making sure Charles was properly surrounded.

Charles sobbed for a while longer. He wasn’t quite sure for how long, or what day it was, or if he was bothering his friends by taking up their time and space like this. His devastation had seemed to take over his entire being. But, when he did breathe a little easier, when he was finally able to sit up, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. His mom was dead, yes, but so was he, and dying had granted them both freedom from that man, from that house, from the cruelties of the world. And in his death he was surrounded by people who loved him, people who were there for him when he needed them and would still be there for him tomorrow, and the next, and the next. The other shoe had dropped, and it certainly hurt, but thankfully he had people around him to help him through it. He was truly lucky to have them.

~

hope you enjoyed this impromptu series exploring Charles and his parents and grief and loss and all those lovely things. this was inspired by the complicated emotions I have / had after my grandparents passing, and I heavily encourage you to do something similar if you’re ever struggling with these big emotions—therapists and such will say that journaling is where it’s at, but sometimes it’s easier to project onto fictional characters and that’s ok !!! and, just to drive the point home, I want to reiterate that you are loved, and there are people around you who are there to support you, I promise ❤️

also, just to make it abundantly clear, I’m a v white midwestern american and as such have vvv limited knowledge of cultural aspects of Charles’s mom—I did research and tried my best, but if I screwed anything up PLEASE let me know so I can fix it!!!!! same goes for Britishisms ig but mostly looking for feedback on her Punjabi and her various cultural elements :)

[letthewhumpbegin]

Moon Knight, s1e6

My GIF masterlist

[transmasccofee]

thinking yet again about Saiki‘s’s final choice in the series being “I’d rather live with my powers than die without them” bc that is seriously the single best ending of a disability narrative I’ve seen. Fuck.

[raymurata]

One of the most famous writers in Thedas dies and no one, no one at all, holds a funeral or a wake, let alone talk about him? No one sends the news over to the paper so his readers can mourn his loss? A famous detective, a passionate bookworm (in fact an entire group of people who read fiction for fun!), not even his friend and coworker of over ten years? It makes me hella sad for Varric.

[trans-queen-administrator]

During the talk with Phir Sē, it comes up that he has a daughter when he tells Taylor about how keenly aware he is of what he could be sacrificing to kill Behemoth.

And it's very odd to me that she's a hero, when her father is one of the men so monstrous that he's used as evidence for why the PRT should stick around. It's almost like the stereotypical superhero show plot where the plucky protagonist hero learns their dad is Doctor Evilman or whatever, but this is Worm. Later in the conversation Phir Sē reveals that he sacrificed family before in a similar scenario

And I can't help but feel that him sacrificing his wife and sons is connected to his daughter being a hero? Like imagine being her, and seeing your dad refuse to save the rest of your family because of the greater good. He could effortlessly step backwards in time but he stands there while their corpses cool instead. That could definitely crack a rift between them and cause his daughter to join the heroes in a desperate attempt to prove that you can save everyone. Hell, I could even see her dad letting her family die being a trigger event. And she's specifically one of the bright and popular heroes, one of the campy flashy ones like Mouse Protector. How much of that is because she can't bear to let herself be anything less than the ideal of a hero, because she can't stomach the thought of being someone who has to make a sacrifice like her father? Phir Sē says he'll live the rest of his life down in his bunker mourning her if he fails, but I think he's already been doing that. He's been consumed by the guilt of who he left in the past and how that ruined his only tie left, and he wants to do something that justifies his existence. If he kills Behemoth, the world celebrates, people are saved, and maybe his daughter will talk to him again. If not, he keeps living as he always has, alone and crippled by the weight of his actions.

I wonder how he felt, in his last moments. The bomb didn't kill the Endbringer, and Behemoth hunted down his bunker and killed him. He had to have seen that it survived, and while maybe he didn't fail so hard he vaporized the country, he didn't redeem himself, he didn't save anyone. He'll never know that his actions weakened Behemoth enough for Scion to finish the job, from his perspective he lost. I wonder if his daughter survived, and if she knows what he did to tip the scales of the battle. Would she even mourn him, assuming he caused her trigger and she knows he let her family die?

He liked Weaver because she reminded him of himself with her ruthless pragmatism and ability to make the hard choices, while also reminding him of his daughter with her idealistic nature. I think he saw a version of himself in her, one that didn't end up isolated in a bunker with no family left. One that has hope and still kept the humanity he feels he lost. She talks to him about working together with others, communicating, and he doesn't think it's something that's possible, he thinks humanity is a "wretched, petty species" and that infighting and lack of coordination would prevail even against an Endbringer. And I think he's right in thinking Taylor is like a younger version of him, because that's exactly what happens during Gold Morning until she makes them work together. He would feel vindicated, seeing Khepri.

Honestly I really wish he survived, he's such an interesting character and I would love to see more of him beyond a single random Tohu face. Most of this is headcanon but like, I think it fits pretty well, so who knows maybe it's the intended subtext.

[aliusfrater]

everything ************* posts pisses me off istg

[sieglinde-freud]

oh im obsessed with this actually… who ever wrote this one i am kissing u on the forehead and hugging you real tight… inigo is such a loverboy im kkkhhhhhhijnsdnfng

[bizarrelittlemew]

it's 4am and i just woke up for a glass of water and i see the news 😭 tv is dead and the world is shit but i love you all in this space the show has given us and i wouldn't trade it for anything 💗 changed my life in all the best ways and i still have so many stories to tell about these characters 💖

[justdrawlynn11]

Loss is hard… no matter how many times you lose them…

Why did it have to be him..?

I can’t bring him back this time… and I hate that fact…

[chaotic-kitty]

SPOILERS FOR BB 3X08

I've been seeing people talk about the new episode, when it comes to Phee and her line about Tech.....I feel some people are misinterpreting it a bit? Or at least singling her out.

Yes, sure, the name drop was a bit weird. But it was no more weird than the other tech name drops.

The air surrounding Techs death has been weird and dismissive in some ways by the show as a whole. All of the characters have been acting like it didn't happen, until they drop a line and give a pout and then carry on with the conversation. That's been something that *all* the characters have done, not just Phee. Singling her out feels unfair.

And when it comes to what her line was, the context. I don't think she was acting like she was all of a sudden incapable without Tech. I think it was more acknowledging the fact that they probably wouldn't have had to turn to Phee to find that information if Tech was still alive. Tech was well versed in these subjects, I half expected him to pop out with the answer when they first asked about the M-count. So I don't think she was doing anything other than acknowledging Techs abilities. Because they don't have that anymore. They don't have someone with a well of knowledge that can give them an answer then and there or with a couple of taps on his data pad. They have to go to other people, use other resources.

With her tone about the whole thing though? We don't know much about Phee. Different people grieve in different ways. I'm sure if she had shown more sadness at it people would've also had something to say. And it's not necessarily like she lost a long term lover, so, while there was chemistry, the reaction may not be what you might expect from her. And I mean....they were in the middle of an important conversation and she was clearly pressed for time anyways.