#I like my headcanon about how Shattered's kids do not just inherited the curse but actually snatch a bit of his curse each time

[bluepallilworld]

Here is part 1 of "a small thing changing everything". It's about my second dark cream kid, Mu. The writing is set up in the past. If you read "a special day", it's a lil' while after that. So Mimosa is small and Shattered Dream and Cross are married. Again it's fluff (kinda) first angst after (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

A small thing changing everything (part 1)

This day was a nice day.

They had slept all together in the big bed, the little one squished between the two of them, happily snoozing.

4 years… It had already been 4 years since this tiny bundle of joy joined them. The struggles had been real at first, especially for him… But they managed to make it work in the end and they were now living comfortably in their house. Mimosa was far from being a wanted baby, but now, it was difficult to imagine a life without the noisy kid. They had been worried the cheerful baby would actually harm the cursed skeleton with all those strong feelings, the small being often released. But- it hadn't been the case at all... On the contrary!

It was as if the baby literally took away a part of the curse at his birth. A true miracle. His husband would have said something cheesy like “it's the power of love” just to annoy him.

He looked silently at the still sound asleep small monster. This one had a foot hidden by the blanket while another was held by his little bony hand. A grin lightened up the adult's face while he let out a silent chuckle. What a strange way to sleep… He dropped the face when his eyes stopped on the tentacles coming out of his loosely fit pjs. A long sigh found its way out from his mouth. It would have been nice if only the boy didn't inherit a part of his curse…

He tried to distract himself from the sad thought. At least, it doesn't seem like it's harming him or having any ill effects… But he didn't show any sign of magic yet and that? That was worrying him a bit. A monster without magic… Could it be considered really healthy? He gave himself a little pinch. No point sulking on it now! But would he be able to protect himself outside? One time, he managed to get a small wound and it took like months to heal! No healing magic or monster food had any effect… He has trouble thinking of what his life would have been without his strong powers and healing magic. It would have surely been very different.

At least, the child was solid and even if his healing process was the worst, someone would have difficulties killing him in one hit. Since those dark thoughts weren't helping anyone, he decided to push them away for now.

He lied down again and brushed softly his fingertips against his son's skull. If someone would have actually told him he would start to care for Mimosa at one point years ago, he would have laughed so hard. HIM? The cursed skeleton? Caring about someone else? What a sad joke… Although he has changed a lot since then… He lifted his arm to stare at the ring around his phalange. He changed a lot because of him… Even if he was still nowhere near perfect, he couldn't deny the fact he somehow improved. He closed his fist. He was almost convinced of it.

He turned on himself to look at the other side of the bed. There. The one that made him partly weak again in all his glory. He snorted. His partner looked so dumb, asleep like that. With his opened mouth letting go of tiny noises that made the goopy skeleton think of a dreaming dog. One of the snoozing monster's legs was dandling over the side of the bed and his left hand was resting on his own chest. A warm feeling spread in the dark skeleton's rib cage at the view as a fond look took place on his face. Oh dog, he loved this idiot.

This one had felt sick lately and so had spent a lot of time in bed. The kiddo got worried and that's how they ended up all sleeping in the same bed. He looked one last time at the peaceful face before leaving the bed. He was going to let him rest peacefully for a while -exceptionally. The child however- He picked him up by the foot and left the room quietly. The scoundrel managed to stay asleep upside-down. Only after being dropped on the couch like a potato bag, only then did he open his eyes. And he would have shouted, slightly startled, if a pillow didn't end up on his face right before he had enough time to start making a fuss.

Yeah it was definitely a nice day.

Ignoring the chatty child, he went to the kitchen to take care of the breakfast. Should he prepare a tray? It sounded like a good idea. Maybe letting him eat in bed would help lift the sick monster's spirit. He machinally put a bowl on the table that he filled with cereals, before grabbing on the child that followed him in the kitchen and put him on the tall chair. He prepared some toasts too with sliced fruits he added to the food in front of the child. This one, already munching on his cereals let out a happy thrill seeing more food. His parent let him at it and went to another corner of the room to prepare another plate -hiding a small fond smile. No way he'd show the tiny beast he had some effect on him, he would clearly abuse that fact . The smart little demon. He returned to the room with the plate, staring quickly at all the food already on the ground. He sighed, shaking his head. When the kid would learn to eat properly was a real mystery.

When he entered the room, his husband -he still had trouble wrapping his head around the fact they were married- had half-opened eyes.

“You're awake.”

It was more a statement than a question.

“More or less”, the other answered with a raspy voice.

“Just eat something, you look… Unwell...”

Unwell was a weak word for the miserable state he looked like he was in.

His expression softened when he saw him eating the whole plate without too much trouble. However he noticed he kept his hand clenched over his chest the whole time.

“Is your chest bothering you?”, he opened his eyes wide while what it could also mean reached his mind, “is your SOUL bothering you!??”

You don't mess with soul matters. He removed the blanket to be able to look more closely. The sick one- who was sweating a lot for a skeleton- let him do whatever he wanted. His hand was firmly grabbing his shirt. The shirt had to go.

“Cross...”

“...yes?”

“Did you know?”

“What?”, he looked down and what he saw made him gasp.

His soul was as usual, a bright upside-down heart, but there was something at its side. A little tiny thing that somehow looks like a tinier replica of his own soul. It was mostly white but it was hard to ignore the bit of dark stuff swirling around. It wasn't touching it but the confused monster was convinced that the strange substance would if it could?

The dark skeleton flopped on a corner of the furniture, immediately burying his face in his hands. The world sinked into the darkness.

“Again…?”

It came out as nothing more than a strangled whisper.

He had felt so light those days. How didn't he notice? Did he pass a bit of his curse again to an innocent child? Again? He wasn't ready for another. He wasn't ready to look a baby in the eyes, thinking about how they were stained because of him. The thought made him shudder. Just because he thought he could be happy despite his past mistakes. Because he thought he could love and be loved. Because- Because- Because-

He didn't notice he started to weep softly like that, lost in his limbo, until something called him back in this reality. A bony hand on his arm. He didn't flinch away from the soft contact. He looked up and encountered two small fuzzy eye lights and a worried frown.

“Dada?”

The child's voice was tinier than ever. He looked quite spooked.

Another hand grasped his own and the adult turned his hand to look at the concerned face of his half.

“Dada…?”

The kid climbed on the bed and put one finger on the slightly sticky cheek.

The monster didn't think and put his arms around his child. His own child. His little miracle. The hug was quick before he put a smile on his head and turned to Mimosa.

“You know what, little beast?”

“What?”

“You're gonna have a sibling.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Next. Last.

------------------------------------------------------------

Shattered Dream belongs to @/shattereddreamsau

Cross to @/jakei95

Dark cream @zu-is-here \(≧▽≦)/

Since it's kiddos related @official-darkxunshine-kids

[silver-haired-76-blog]

From Family, With Love.

//So since I haven’t done any drafts today I instead wrote a drabble. This features my own headcanons and hurt my soul so you know if anyone wants to share my pain go ahead.

Note: Please do not reblog. 

“Why are you leaving, Jack?”

A young girl, a pair of brown doe eyes and braided pigtails sits on the teenager’s stomach. He legs are pretzeled with flower printed flip-flops pressing into the sides of his t-shirt. There was conviction in her question despite how innocent she looked. She always had the voice that didn’t suit her face.

Jack’s hands are picking at a small daisy that had many siblings around them in little clusters on the grassy hill. His fingers graze the tiny petals as he can feel those slightly apprehensive brown eyes waiting for an answer.

He sighs, setting the flower down, “…Because its what I want to do, Nikki. People need help and…I feel like I can be help.”

“Can’t you help here?” She smacks his chest with a lip sticking out, “Momma said we were sending supplies to troops. And—Chase is donating money to research on the robo weaknesses—“

“Omnics, Nikki,” Despite her crass look he laughs softly, patting her head, “I’m not going to be there forever. I’m gonna come back after I help for a little bit.”

“If you come back.” She crosses her arms, her protruding lip twisting into a little scowl, “Maurice told me that you could die.”

“Maurice is a bit old butt for telling you that.” He pins his elbows in the soft grass, lifting himself up a bit and dropping one of the daisies in her hair, “I’ll be fine. Sure I—I have a chance of getting hurt like everyone that volunteers. But, with your hope I’ll make sure I come home safe.”

“You better!” she sticks her tongue out, “Or I’m telling your momma and she’s gonna yell at you.”

He decided not to test her logic—both to keep her from worrying and by the sheer fact that he did—as all his cousins—believe his mother could and would be able to chastise from beyond the grave.

He flicks his watch, peering at the time and very suddenly standing, throwing his young cousin over his shoulder, “Alright. We gotta head back—“ He chuckles as she wiggles around, “Hey you used to love when I did this.”

“That was when I was little Jack.”

“I’m pretty sure you are still considered little.”

“Well—that’s because you’re taller!”

“Fiiiine here…” Immediately after setting her down she’s off like a little firecracker, her feet pattering on the weeds and dandelions, their fuzzy seeds smacking into the air.

“Race you--!”

His lips twitched, chasing after her as grass turned to dirt and pavement. She was fast for a tiny kid. He pretended he wasn’t winded by the time he lifted her back up, carrying her like luggage past the gate to the farmhouse.

“I beat you!”

“I went easy on you.”

“Yeah riiiiiiiight” She giggled, swinging her limbs as she’s carried, “Aunt Magnolia told me to come get you. You kinda ran off after the party she was worried.”

“So is that why you were sitting on me?”

He knew that was a bit too strange—but the festivities of the evening stuck to him a bit too well. His parents of course had to throw together something unbeknownst to him before he left for training. All his cousins and aunts, uncles, grandparents had gathered like wildfire and he spent a good couple days being told fantastical stories about his youth. He was asked for great details on what exactly he’d be doing and how long he’d be gone. It was the kind of attention he was used to but not to the degree of tears. They were worried. They were all worried and he felt it like concrete cementing onto his shoulders.

Instead of explaining this he just shrugs, “I was just daydreaming.”

“About guys?”

He lets out a slightly baffled laugh, “What?”

“Maurice told me that after graduation you and this guy and this girl did weird stuff—“

“Hey, Nikki”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you see Maurice tell him that cousin Morrison told you he used to hide under forty five blankets during thunderstorms.” He grins, “And cry. See how bad he blushes.”

The young girl giggles loud, covering her mouth, “Thunderstorms aren’t scary.”

“They are really scary for him. But he’ll deny it.”

“I’ll do my best!” She giggles again, wiggling her toes as she’s set down, immediately running toward the yard where several of his cousins sat.

“Go, my agent, fulfill your mission!” He calls over before heading into the house. The floors creaked with well-worn wood and lightly scented with lemon cleaner. They had been tidying up all day since the party. At least his parents had a lot of helping hands.

He takes a bottle of tea from the fridge, hearing footsteps as he unscrews the cap. His father loiters in the doorway before stepping inside and leaning on the kitchen’s island, “You did a disappearing act on us today.” He runs a hand through blond hair, giving him the soft kind of smile Jack was always told he inherited.

“Pretty overwhelming, eh?”

Jack’s shoulders lower just slightly, speaking honestly, “Yeah, just a little.”

The older man straightens, patting his shoulder lightly, “I know…might have gone a little overboard—but we couldn’t stop them from reminiscing. Kids like you grow up fast and here you are…running off to shoot at Omnics.”

“They need soldiers, dad,” He rubs his thumb along the chilled tea bottle, bright eyes thoughtful, “I think this is something that I need to do.”

He hums, tapping his fingers on the counter and clicking his tongue, “So it isn’t just to meet guys—“

“Dad!”

The older man bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god—“

“I’m just kidding son!” He slaps his shoulder again, “Your mother was theorizing in all her worries. But if you do meet a lady or man there—“

“I know I know, you ‘got them in your sights’,” Jack’s tone was deepened but mocking, wiggling his fingers for emphasis, “You say that for everyone you want to secretly beat up in a parking lot.”

“Only for your protection! No one messes with a Morrison,” He smirks lightly, “But I bet you can handle yourself.”

“I really do help I can handle my own sex life in the military thank you lets change the subject,” He swings back the tea, “I’m there to help not for speed dating. And you guys are acting like I’m gonna be…gone forever that’s all.”

“Well you never know what will happen. Maybe they’ll see something we’ve always seen in you.” He ruffles his hair, “But that’s just Dad bragging.”

“Don’t leave me out of this, William!” His mother moves into the kitchen, leaning against her husband with a tired gaze at her son, “My baby boy off to change the world.”

Jack rolls his eyes but offers a sincere smile, “I’m just hoping to do my part, jeez…”

The mother watches him another moment before shifting off William and taking a small box from her jeans, offering it to him, “Well, you’re still bringing this.”

The teenager’s brow furrows before he slowly sets the tea aside, flicking open the box with his thumb. Inside, a silvery ring sat on silky fabric. The metal was crafted and twined to look like rope. It was simple, but the metal was thick and strong. He blinks, gently taking it out with a little noise coming from his mouth to show his confusion.

“It’s titanium, darling,” His mother smiles, “Don’t think I wouldn’t make you bring us with you somehow.”

Of course. There was a beating in his stomach that was hard to describe. He loved it—but the purpose of it made the churning sicklier. He hides it with a smile, beginning to slip it on his ring finger, “Thank yo—“

“Tut tut!” She slaps his wrist, taking the ring and slipping it on his middle finger, “Middle finger.”

“What—“

“You’re going to meet a lot of good, genuine people, honey. And this will never shatter in the face of them.” She says, her hands lingering on his, her eyes turning to his face. A hand moves up to cup his cheek, “But you’ll meet a lot of evil people as well, evil, terrible people. So, when you inevitably flip them off like they deserve—you might as well have us all do it.”

“…” After a long moment the boy starts laughing, wrapping arms around his mother. This was just like her.

His stomach hurt again.

Seconds later he feels his father’s arms around them both as well, “You give them hell out there, Jack.”

“I’ll do what I can, dad” He shuts his eyes, and in that moment his stomach eases, “I promise you all.”

The old soldier opens his eyes, a leg shifting up as faded blue eyes graze along the cracks of the ruins’ ceiling. His fingers graze and lightly pick at heavy gauze on his side. Hell had taken a bite into his flesh quite literally, and the regeneration made sleep even more impossible than it was before.

After another couple very slow, still moments he shifts, a soft grunt leaving his lips as he pulls over his jacket. It needed to be repaired—but the stupid jacket wasn’t what he was worried about.

He digs around in the pockets around the scarred fabric, so much movement that he lets out a much sharper grunt, along with a not too polite curse. In seconds Ana appears by his cot, huffing softly, “Jack, please, you shouldn’t move so much when its still healing—“

“I’m looking for something…” He freezes, his fingers shifting in a shredded pocket, “…”

“…” Ana sits on the side of the bed, watching her friend pull a silvery chain from the pocket, her eyes peering at a ring hanging off of it. In a moment she laughs softly, “…Don’t tell me that…is in tact.”

Jack rubs his thumb on the ring’s battered, scratched surface. His stomach churned, his heart ached in a way that couldn’t be mended.

You’ll meet good, genuine people in this world. This ring will never shatter in the face of them.

His fingers curl along the small thing, cupping his other hand over it, ducking his head down. His breath comes out in three shaky ones, then one steady.

“Jack.” Ana takes up his face, “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

Another long breath, he shakes his head, “No.”

She gives him a wary smile, setting both hands on his folded ones, her own eyes very slightly misted.

This ring grew to be more than just a farm.

“We’ll bring him back,” The voice is—unsure, but still strong, “For family, Jack.”

He shuts his eyes, leaning against her, his hands twisting in hers and the trinket’s tenacious form, “For family. I promise.”