No.15 - Blog Posts

DAY 15: The Father's Mistakes Fall on the Son's Shoulders

The cycle repeats itself.

For this prompt, I was hesitating between Dean&John and Jack&Dean but my little sister suggested I do both so you'll have both. This story is not intended to bash characters but rather to show sons hurt by the actions of their parent figure and fathers realizing, too late, their mistakes. Because let's be honest, I love Dean but the way he treats Jack is often horrible and you might think he would learn from the way his own father raised him but noo. (Also, Dean is 17/18 in the first chapter.) Fandom: Supernatural Character(s): Dean Winchester Relationship(s): Dean Winchester & John Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester Words Count: 1,115 Trigger Warnings: - Minor Burn - Minor Blood and Injury - Dean's Canonical Self-Esteem Issues No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

Dean’s fingers were numb from the cold as he desperately tried to light his lighter. Every time he failed was another minute of Dad risking his life distracting the ghost. The metal dug painfully into his thumb with each failure and blood was already starting to trickle down his wrist.

“Come on, come on,” Dean whispered, his words forming a cloud of condensation in the abandoned house. Dean wasn’t sure if it was the freezing February temperatures or if the ghost had somehow escaped Dad but he didn’t plan on staying long enough to find out. “ Come on! ”

Finally, finally , a small flame flickered at the end of his lighter and Dean wasted no time in throwing his lighter into the hearth of the fireplace where the ghost's bones already lay covered in salt. The fire caught instantly, burning the tips of Dean's fingers when he didn't pull his hand away fast enough. He hissed in pain, blisters forming on his index and middle fingers.

Somewhere up the stairs, the ghost screamed as its soul was destroyed in a burst of yellow light.

Dean flopped down on the moth-eaten floorboards, kicking up a cloud of dust big enough to make him cough. When he opened his eyes again, Dad was in front of him, one hand out to help him up and his gun in the other.

“You really took your sweet time here,” Dad joked, but Dean couldn’t help but flinch. Dad either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it. “Let’s go find Sammy, he must be freezing out there.”

Dean grabbed his dad’s hand with his left and let himself be pulled to his feet. Dad looked at his face suspiciously.

“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.

(If they were a normal family, Dean would say it was worry that made his father frown. But normal families didn’t hunt deadly ghosts in the middle of the night, and Dean knew better.)

“Nothing,” Dean replied, hiding his hand in his jacket pocket, the sensitive skin of his fingers catching in the zipper.

“Dean,” Dad sighed, grabbing Dean’s elbow and forcing his hand out of his pocket. “Stop being so stubborn all the time.”

Dad tugged sharply at Dean's arm and grabbed his wrist, directing his hand toward the light of the flames. He whistled loudly as he saw the blisters forming on Dean's fingertips.

"I think we have some Biafine left in the car, you can ask Sammy to bandage you up," Dad ordered.

"There's no point," Dean protested, not wanting to waste bandages on a wound that would go away on its own in a few days.

"What did I just say?" Dad sighed. "Stop being so stubborn all the damn time. I don't want your dominant hand immobilized any longer than necessary."

It made sense. With his burn, Dean's grip on his gun wouldn't be as effective.

"And why are your hands so cold?" Dad asked, taking Dean's hands in his to warm them up, being careful with his injured fingers. "Don't you have gloves?"

"I gave them to Sammy, his had holes in them," Dean replied.

For a moment, they said nothing and Dean enjoyed the warmth of Dad's hands against his own. He was too old to hold his father's hand anymore but he missed it sometimes, the casual affection of the early days. An arm around his shoulders, a hand in his hair, a hug when he was scared.

But part of Dad had died with Mom in the fire and Dean didn't know how much of the soldier or father had survived.

"Come on Dee, let's get you warm," Dad said, letting go of his hands.

Dean was next to a fire but he had never been so cold. He followed his father's lead, shivering in his jacket with holes in his elbows. The drafts of the house wrapped around Dean like ghosts.

Outside the abandoned house, Sam stood watch next to the car, kicking the gravel to pass the time. When he saw Dean come out of the house, the kid's face lit up and Dean couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey Sammy, haven't you been too bored without me?" greeted Dean with a lazy smile.

Sam didn't have time to answer, a ghost flickered behind him as ice creeped up the car windows.

(Protect Sammy!)

Dean rushed toward Sam, shoving him out of the ghost’s reach with one arm and making a wide circle with the other, hitting the ghost with the iron-clad butt of his pistol. The ghost disappeared but not before briefly digging its hand into Dean’s ribcage and holding Dean’s heart ready to rip it out. A bitter cold gripped Dean and he collapsed to the ground, coughing up blood.

The ghost rematerialized a few feet away, Dean’s blood staining his shirt. Dad slammed the trunk of the car shut, yelling at Sam to duck and shooting salt at the ghost with his rifle.

His vision darkened and the screams of Dad and Sam grew distant around him, stretching out until Dean no longer recognized their voices. There was a flash of light, then silence.

(Dean was so cold.)

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him almost painfully against someone’s chest. The heavy grip around his arms was sure to leave bruises tomorrow and his aching ribs protested, a throbbing pain almost making it hard to breathe. Still, Dean wanted the person to never let go of him again.

Leather and tobacco.

“Dad?” Dean asked, his voice muffled in his father’s jacket. “I did good, right? I saved Sammy.”

“You did very well, son,” Dad answered, his voice strangely strangled. “I’m proud of you.”

Dean looked up and oh , Dad was crying. Why was Dad crying?

“It  hurts,” Dean said, the pain turning his vision white.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Dad apologized, his hand cradling Dean’s head tenderly, like he’d taught Dean to do when Sammy was a newborn. “We’re going to take you to the hospital.”

(Why was Dad apologizing? It wasn't his fault. Dean should have been faster. But he was so slow tonight.)

"Can we go home now?" Dean asked weakly, his eyes fluttering with fatigue.

There was blood on Dad's jacket in the shape of Dean's handprints. Everything he touched ended up covered in blood.

"Sure," Dad replied.

A familiar weight fell on his shoulders (leather and tobacco) as arms slid under his knees and armpits to lift him off the ground. Dean's feet left the ground and he bit back a gag as his head spun and spun.

(Dean wasn't cold anymore.)

"I'm sorry, Dean," Dad whispered as he walked toward the car.

There were still tears in his eyes.

Day 15: Into the unknown || Possession 

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nakahara Chuuya/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs) Characters: Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: Dehumanization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Nakajima Atsushi Needs a Hug (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya Needs a Hug (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nightmares, Childhood Trauma, Whumptober 2024 Summary:

The world was dark. So, so endlessly dark. Even on the days Atsushi was able to step outside, to feel the sun hitting his skin and to hear the laughter of the other children, it was all so dark and cold. The warmth of the sun felt distant, and the laughter grated against his ears, a symphony of sounds he could not make, a joy he could not know.

Atsushi relives his past during a nightmare, comfort is given, a lifelong question is answered.

Finally finished another whumptober prompt! This is my first time writing for ChuuAtsu so I hope yall like it!

Shifty was faced with his worst nightmare; he was back in the hands of scientists. He turned into his mind for solace; remembering a past that had changed his life for the better.

Starlit Honeycomb

Whumptober 2024 | Day 15 : Childhood Trauma

One shot focused on the Deadly Sins' family dynamic, mainly via Beelzebub's daughter, Nectar, when she was a kid.

Fandom: Helluva Boss & Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 2,493

AO3 Link <3

---♡---

Lilith threaded her fingers through the viscous substance that made up Nectar's hair. A shimmering starscape of weightless matter that resembled a cascade of wavy shoulder length locks.

The little lilac fox looked up at Lilith with a big grin, "Mama!"

Lilith shook her head with a small smile, "No no, your mama is Beelzebub. I'm Charlie’s mama." Lilith gestured her head towards Charlie who was intensely focused on whatever was going on between two stationary rubber duckies on the floor.

"Beezeub?" Nectar frowned at the word, it didn't make sense in her brain. The word was too long and had too many sounds. Lilith seemed to pick up on the child's frustration. Although Nectar's normally lilac colored irises glowing an emerald green made the fact clear.

"How about you just call her Bee? Most people do anyway." Lilith laughed with a bright cadence.

Nectar narrowed her eyes, her thoughts drifted away from the difficult to pronounce words to the sudden taste of strawberries on her tongue as Lilith laughed.

"Why do people taste like things?" Nectar questioned as her and Lilith were quickly distracted when the door opened behind them. Nectar's little heart did a little happy flip, but her heart fell on its face when Lucifer walked in.

"Hey Lily!" He walked up and gave Lilith a kiss on the cheek. "How are the girls doing?" Lucifer beamed at Charlie, the apple of his eye. Lilith joined him in looking at their darling little girl, her gaze calm but filled with adoration.

Nectar's small bee wings buzzed a few times as she watched the three. The scene tasted like yellow on her tongue but she couldn't understand why she felt a sting of pain within her as well. She hadn't been hurt so why did she feel hurt? Nectar's undeveloped brain didn't have any other description other than 'sharp' for the sensation. Maybe the key to get rid of it were in those rubber duckies Charlie was focused on. Charlie was older than her by a year or two, but seemed infinitely more wise.

As Lilith and Lucifer chatted about their respective days, Nectar stood and went to where Charlie was sitting. Wondering why the taste of cupcakes layered her tongue as she approached the other girl. Charlie had abandoned her intense focus on the rubber ducks. Instead she poured over a book, making small notes in the margins with crayons.

Nectar was too young for tact and had a question. "How do you get your mom and dad to look at you warm?" Nectar asked bluntly. "And taste like yellow, I don't like orange." Nectar added.

Charlie looked from the book to Nectar excitedly, too young to be put off by the straightforward question, "I dunno, but we can figure it out!" Charlie's eyes glimmered with excitement as she hummed in thought. "When I read and make pictures they look more warm." Charlie gestured to the wall, various lines and colors on crinkled mismatched papers were hung up with the same reverence as a professional art piece. "I dunno what yellow tastes like though." Charlie admitted, the thought of colors tasting like anything rattled around in her head.

Nectar was in awe at the artwork, her irises changed hue from lilac to a sunshine yellow. "I can do that!" Nectar nodded intensely, her one track mind now on a mission of upmost importance.

Charlie stood, giving a military salute. "I wish you luck, lieutenant Stardust!"

Nectar had no clue what a lieutenant was but she mirrored Charlie's gesture. "Aye aye Cap'n Cupcake!"

Nectar went to work, she didn't want to steal Charlie's crayons so she grabbed the next best thing. A steel, mostly full blue paint can. This would do perfectly. Thankfully the lid of the can was loose enough where she could pry it off with her small claws. Nectar didn't have a paint brush so those same claws would do. Obviously that meant she should stick her entire hand into the paint can to get some paint on it. So she did. The cool fluid lapped onto her fur before Nectar withdrew her arm with a small shiver. Nectar took a piece of paper and hovered idly over it for a few seconds. She didn't have the faintest idea of what to even draw. She should ask her font of wisdom.

Nectar strolled back to Charlie, a red paint can in tow. "I've come to deal. I'll open this can if you tell me what to art."

Charlie turned away from her crayons and paper, her eyes widened at the paint can. The possibility of a new way to create won her over instantly, "Deal. And uh..." Charlie thought for a long moment before snapping her fingers, a glimmer of golden dust falling from her fingertips as she smiled widely. "You could draw your family! That’s what I did for my first one." She gestured to a paper on the wall covered with strangled lines that vaguely resembled shapes. But as Nectar looked at it, she could definitely make out Lilith, Charlie and Lucifer. It was a masterpiece.

Nectar popped the paint lid and slid it to Charlie, shaking the other girl's hand with her non-painted hand. "Thanks Captain." Nectar nodded confidently not noticing the door opening again and the vibrant Beelzebub greeting Charlie's parents. Nectar had a mission after all.

The small fox plopped back down in front of her paper. "Family, I can art family." She told herself. The paint on her arm had gotten all brittle, that wouldn't do. She couldn't double dip either, so she dipped her other arm into the can. This time when her claw touched the page it moved with purpose. Nectar made a tall figure and a smaller figure. She put four lines out of the sides of the taller one and two out of the shorter one. As the little girl drew, her irises shifted colors again, back to that sunshine yellow, but this time, her irises glowed too. Their brightness rivaled fireworks as Nectar's joy illuminated the page beneath her. She was just about to get to whatever the third figure should be when she was suddenly lifted off the ground.

"Whadda doin' Honeycomb?" Beelzebub's voice was vibrant and not even a little upset as the Deadly Sin held back laughter. One of Beelzebub's lower hands tucked her phone back into her back pocket.

This was Nectar's chance, she was about to point and show her mom what she made but Beelzebub was already carrying her to the bathtub.

"Let's get you un-blue, ya? And if you help out..." Beelzebub leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, "I'll snatch up some of Luci's apple juice for ya. Deal?"

"Deal!" Nectar replied excitedly. She could show her mom her creation after helping her out. Plus, Lucifer's apple juice was the most divine thing in Hell.

"Atta girl!!" Beelzebub grinned as they both giggled loudly.

The process took a lot longer than Nectar could stay awake for. Apparently her entirely covering both her arms in blue paint wasn't the best idea. Beelzebub let out an exhausted huff as she lifted the sleeping Nectar in her arms.

"Thanks for letting us stay late, Luci. Didn't think that'd take so long." Beelzebub smiled apologetically at the King of Hell.

"Don't worry about it, Beelzebub. Both the girls had a good time, that's what matters. Oh! And hers the payment for the little one." Lucifer handed over a plastic jug of freshly squeezed apple juice.

Beelzebub took it with a soft laugh, her smile turning more warm than guilty, "Thanks Luci, I'll see you on the flip, ya? And I'll have Belphie check on Nectar's eye thing. That goat is the best doctor I know." Beelzebub nudged Lucifer with her only unencumbered hand.

"Take of care of this cutie pie." Lucifer grins, booping Nectar's nose.

Beelzebub laughed in response, "I will Luci." She looked at her daughter in her arms, “I will."

---♡---

Beelzebub tapped her foot impatiently, her eyes going from Belphegor's office door and then to the bland white tile of the hospital. The Deadly Sin of Sloth requested she wait outside during the tests. Beelzebub would normally object, but Belphegor was the only doctor that was able treat Nectar in any capacity, or any of the Deadly Sins for that matter. So, she had to put up with the goat. It wasn't everyday your kid's eyes started glowing or changing colors after all. Beelzebub's focus left the repeating white and instead went to the wall mounted TV. It played a rerun of the same episode of an ancient TV show on repeat. Forever.

"Riveting." Beelzebub groaned as she sank into her seat.

Beelzebub wasn’t sure if ten years had actually passed but it felt like they did before the door finally opened. Out of it stepped a tall, violet, furred goat woman. A soft blue flame flickered between her horns. Belphegor’s lab coat would have completed the heir of authority if it were not for the lazily buttoned gaudy Hawaiian shirt and sweatpants.

"Belphegor, what the fuck are you wearing?" Beelzebub asked with a deep frown.

"Comfort." Belphegor replied simply, the woman's voice was void of a tone. As if every detail was matter of scientific fact. Including her fashion choices.

There was a long pause. "So, how's Nectar?" Beelzebub pursed her lips.

"She is well." Belphegor replied.

Another pause.

"Like, no issues? What'd you find? How about the eye thing?" Beelzebub fired each question off.

"There are issues, as there always is. The concern about the irises is among them."

The silence returned to the room.

Beelzebub was ready to slam her head into the wall in frustration. "Belphie!"

Belphegor smiled, "Beelzebub."

Beelzebub would have stubbornly played Belphegor’s game if she was fine waiting in a hospital hallway for the next century. But, she doubted her daughter wanted to do that.

"You win, what’s going on with my kiddo?" Beelzebub sighed.

"20,210 to 20,749, you are losing your touch." Belphegor jotted a note on her clipboard. "But yes, let us go over the results. Please join me in my office" Belphegor gestured down the hall. "A nurse is with the girl." She added before Beelzebub could ask.

The two entered a large room, although it more resembled a library. Books upon books filled each wall and most of the floor. Beelzebub may have checked a few out but Belphegor already seated behind her thick walnut wood desk. The Slothful sin pulled out a purple folder, taking a mass of documents from it. Beelzebub internally groaned, so much it turned to an outward groan.

"Ughhh, just gimmie the quick version Belphie. I'd rather not be here for a decade." Beelzebub plopped into the seat in front of the desk, slinging her legs over the armrest.

Belphegor looked up from the documents, "Nectar is a danger to herself and others and I don't trust you to take care of her. I recommend putting her down." Belphegor said coldly.

"Ex-fucking-cuse me!? Belphie what the HELL does that mean!!" Beelzebub stood as she slammed all four hands to the desk.

Belphegor calmly leaned back in her overstuffed office chair. "You wanted the short version, that is it."

Beelzebub's third eye blazes open as she bares her fangs, "You talk like she's some pet, she is my DAUGHTER, Belphegor! Don't you DARE suggest hurting her!!” Beelzebub knew a genuine fight between two Deadly Sins would be catastrophic, but in this moment she would happily bake Belphegor into a pie.

Belphegor raised a hand, "I said that was the short version, its more complex than that of course."

Beelzebub didn't move from her standing position but her features return to normal. "Long version. Now."

---♡---

"So, why the sudden 'wine night'?" The Queen of Hell swirled her wine before sniffing it, humming in appreciation. "Who knew Hell had such fine vintages." Lilith sipped the beverage.

Beelzebub grinned proudly as Lilith savored the rich flavors.

"I mean, we could do a weekly get together and go through my backlog of wines. Maybe I could grab some parenting wisdom from ya!" Beelzebub teased.

"I'd gladly offer it, you aren't exactly mother material." Lilith said with a soft chuckle of honesty.

Beelzebub joined with her own, much more vibrant giggle. "Damn Lily, harsh haha!"

Lilith leaned forward in chair, her smile now a pensive frown, "Why did you have Nectar, Beelzebub?" The Queen of Hell circled her finger around her wine glass. It was a genuine question, no malice was behind it as Lilith's tone remained even. "You seem to pawn her off whenever you get the chance. The girl is going to start to think me and Lucifer are her parents."

Beelzebub's shoulders slumped, the wings on her back drooping. "...look, I love the kid. Really, I do. She's my little starlit honeycomb." The Queen of Gluttony's gaze drifts. "But... I wasn't really expecting a 24/7 party guest. And then one day, I had one..." She slumped down further into her seat, "I can handle hostin parties and tearin' it up but I'm not cut out for this Lilith. You wouldn't happen to be willing to..."

"Really?" Lilith cut her off with the disappointed remark.

Beelzebub's eyes snapped back to the other woman's, "Its not like I have many options here, Lil." Her voice wasn't sure whether to be defensive or fearful, "Putting a girl like her with anyone less than demonic royalty would be terrible idea." Beelzebub tapped her finger to the armrest of her seat. "I'm not trusting Satan or Leviathan with her obviously, Mammon would try and profit from her, and Belphegor has stated multiple times she won't. I've only really got Luci or Asmo."

"Or yourself." Lilith interjected.

"..." That shut Beelzebub up.

Lilith sighed, drinking the last remnants of wine in her slender glass. "I'm sorry, but we can't. We have Charlie to look after. And I don't think it'd be a good idea for you to leave this responsibility to someone else."

Beelzebub's ears flatten on top of her head. For the first time in awhile, Beelzebub let's the silence hang before she speaks, "Belphegor said that the kiddo eats emotions, connected to em or something. All of her vast power is connected to her own psyche." Beelzebub buried her head in her hands as if she could hide from the fact. "If she has a breakdown she might just level half a fucking ring, Lilith." Beelzebub felt her eyes begin to sting. "Please, she needs a better mom than me..." Beelzebub tried her best to keep in tears as she let out shaky breath. She didn't look up at Lilith when the other woman rose from her seat.

"You can start by being one." Lilith scolded.

.

.

.

Unseen, Nectar stepped back from the entrance to the kitchen, her dull orange irises met the floor's frigid gaze. The 'sharp' feeling was back. 'Oh.'

"Where the North Wind meets the sea...

There's a river full of memory.

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound...

For in this river, all is found.

In her waters, deep and true,

Lie the answers and a path for you.

Dive down deep into her sound...

But not too far or you'll be drowned."

~

-All Is Found, Evan Rachel Wood

Whumptober No.15

...She didn't question the voice; at this point, it was normal... But who was Psy?

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