#I love writing this little family
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
October Almost-Drabbles 10/22: Costume
Pairing: Cherik
Word Count: 621
Additional tags: trick or treating, family fluff, pietro is an absolute adhd terror but we love him
Side note: I cut out like 300+ words of mostly boring exposition, so this is much more streamlined than it was at first. Other than the descriptor calling Wanda a witch (because she’s dressed like one, obvs), everyone else’s outfits are un-described. Mostly. So feel free to use your own imaginations. And yes, everybody did dress up. Even Erik.
———
The little family made quite a picture, walking down the brightly lit sidewalk.
“Careful with that, Wanda.” Charles called out. The little witch was swinging her candy bucket enthusiastically, losing bits and pieces out of it. At his urging, she calmed her motions, though there was still a lot of swinging involved. As per usual, she was significantly calmer than her twin. Pietro was running loops around all of them. Up the street, down the street, into walkways, occasionally into yards (“Mind the grass!” Erik told him, multiple times). He couldn’t get far, thankfully - the metal bits subtly sewn into his costume made sure of that - but he tested the boundary at every chance he could.
“Alright back there?” Erik asked. He couldn’t see over the top of the dozing child on his back, but he knew Lorna was bringing up the rear of their little caravan.
“I'm good, Dad.” She was eating candy. He could practically hear the caramel as she answered. And more importantly, she was happy. All four of the children were. Even David, who smiled even in his tired state.
“So what do you think, guys? Trick-or-treating? Fun, huh?” Charles smiled, ruffling Pietro’s hair as he ran by. He didn’t really need to ask; he could feel their joy as bright as a beacon. But he always tried to encourage verbal communication. Especially in public, though they were mostly alone on that particular sidewalk.
There was a chorus of affirmations.
“Can Auntie Raven come with us next time?” Wanda asked. Charles made a show of considering this, though truth be told he‘d had a similar thought. It would be interesting, he reasoned, to bring along someone who didn’t need a preprepared outfit. Who could potentially change their appearance from house to house.
“Why don’t we ask her when we get home?” He gave Wanda a nod. She grinned and nodded back before slipping back behind them to walk with her sister. Aside from the red and white blur that was Pietro running around them, and their older boy being carried by Erik, the two parents were somewhat alone. Charles bumped their shoulders together gently.
So. We all survived.
That remains to be seen, Erik projected back, eyeing their running and giggling youngest son. The little terror. I’m only surprised he hasn’t run every single one of us ragged yet.
At that moment, the boy ran a little further out than either of them were comfortable with. Almost offhandedly, Erik reached out with his power, grabbed the metal threads in his costume, and pulled him back over. Pietro paused just long enough to say “sorry, dad,” before taking off again. He’d probably have long since spilled his candy everywhere had Charles not commandeered his bucket fairly early in the night.
And you’re already planning for next year. Erik shook his head, though he was also smiling. Doing his own planning, no doubt.
Maybe a little. But, Charles was quick to add, we’ve still got at least an hour or two of candy sorting ahead of us. “And it’s way past certain individuals’ bed time as it is.”
“Not tired!” Pietro said, zooming by.
David grumbled sleepily.
“I understand your point, however. Once the candy has been sorted, and the costumes put away, then we can do what all parents do after October 31st.”
“And that is?”
“To never think of Halloween again for the next eleven months or so.”
At that, Erik laughed. He shifted David a little, adjusting his position. “I’m gonna hold you to that, I hope you know. Also not looking forward to the mountains of candy to sift through.”
“Liar. You’ll be drowning in butterscotch for weeks. What a burden.”
“Quiet, you.”
#october drabbles#cherik#writing is hard#one big happy family#cherik mpreg Verse#fluff#so fluff#lol#I love writing this little family#❤️
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
i cannot wait for yor’s eventual backstory chapter because holy shit. if twilight’s was heartbreaking, yor’s might just send me into psychosis.
this whole idea of this young girl who is forced to grow up extremely fast and single handedly fill in the gaps her recently deceased parents left in her and her little brother’s lives. to drop out of school so she can take on dangerous jobs and ensure her brother is happy despite all the turmoil he’s faced. to have sacrificed everything she could’ve been to guarantee her brother always had a roof over his head, warm (although often inedible) food, and a bright future ahead of him.
then, for her to reach adulthood and feel all the work she did was for nothing because, in her peers eyes, she’s inadequate and bizarre. she doesn’t fit the societal expectations of a woman; she’s considered too masculine, too ditzy, too independent and a woman who doesn’t need nor want to rely on a man—all things looked down on by society at that time.
but then her inner conflicts are finally seen by loid who also had to grow up way too fast. and then she finds a family where she is accepted for who she is—shortcomings and all. and now it feels like everything she did to reach this point in her life finally has meaning: to give back to the next generation of kids what she did not have the luxury of receiving— a stable life without the constant threat of war looming over them.
in short… that chapter and its implications will destroy me.
#spy x family#sxf#yor forger#twiyor#i love my sxf think pieces#i need to rewatch it so i can write more#my silly little full grown adults with unresolved childhood trauma#can you tell i love this series#can you tell i’m absolutely obsessed with yor forger’s character
486 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au
"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"
Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.
He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.
It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.
Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.
It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.
Because it really only meant one thing.
Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.
Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.
Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.
This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?
It would be a firestorm.
One that Vlad is not keen on starting.
It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.
It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.
His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.
"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.
Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.
He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.
The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.
He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.
"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.
Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.
But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.
Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.
"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."
Bastard.
For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.
But, well.
They all have their dark secrets.
And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.
"I see."
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc au#danyal al ghul au#dpxdc ficlet#dpxdc fanfic#i was hit with this idea two hours ago and was hit with the intrinsic need to write it down#parental vlad masters#protective vlad masters#vlad is currently going 'OH? OH YOU ABANDON AND REPLACE **MY** SON??? MURDER. DEATH. BEES UPON YOUR FAMILY'#but he's also still like. evil. much less of a creep! but evil. so he comes off a bit possessive. which was intentional.#vlad's reaction is kinda valid if it was accurate and bruce DID willingly and knowingly abandon danny. except he didn't. he has no idea#danny is even alive. vlad doesn't know that tho. we all love a good reasonable misunderstanding :]#hc that vlad needs a cane as a human because the ecto-acne that killed him fucked his nerves up a bit as a result and now he's got a bad le#and is also immunocompromised. which had a slight hand in his 20 year isolation thing.#stillborn? no still born au#stillborn danny au#stillborn danny#vlad masters#this may or may not be canon to the au im still thinking about it#vlad acknowledges that danny is formiddable but he's also not wrong that a media shitstorm like that would hurt him considerably.#diamonds are the toughest known material to man and yet it still shatters like glass when put under pressure. vlad's right he's fragile#ummm anyways yeah Vlad finds out first and promptly decides to go 'oh okay so fuck you personally actually. keep your replacement child'#he has No Plans on telling Danny what he learned mostly for the obvious selfish reasons and also bc yeah. this is gonna hurt danny#ITS NOT FUN IF IT ISNT A LITTLE TOXIIIIC#i absolutely know that vlad only swears in deserts which is why its important that i have him call bruce wayne a bastard directly.
540 notes
·
View notes
Text
They like to visit their favorite human every once and a while. [Original Characters]
The building is haunted, but the ghosts get attached to the workers [specifically the older ones who work there.]
The new workers are afraid of encountering them [most probably don't even know they exist and think it's just a rumor] while the older workers are used to them.
They're especially fond of this one guy in particular. He's been working here for 30+ years. They treat him like your indoor cat and he leans into their affection because he's a lonely starved old man who everyone sees as strict and indifferent.
[Note: This affection only extends to the older workers of the haunted building. (New workers have been reported fainting around their presence.) Others will not be treated as nicely. Please keep your distance and notify guards during an encounter.]
#original character#original characters#original character art#original comic#oc#oc art#oc comic#horror#horror ideas#slice of life#writing ideas#I like the idea of this office building being haunted#and having this very scary ghost in there#but also the ghost treats the previous workers like little animals [affectionate]#pspspspsps here kitty kitty#the ghost owns this house#in the ghosts POV: they are just strays coming in whenever they please#because the building actually used to be an old place of the dead that had to be abolished#and now the dead turned into an amalgamation ghosts who haunt this building#anyway#very stoic old man and scary ghost who WILL kill you#they love each other [platonic] [in a family way]#my drawing museum
540 notes
·
View notes
Text
DPXDC Prompt #72
One thing Danny hated about being a halfa is you don’t age. Unfortunately this also means that when you’re de-aged to age 10 you stay at age 10. The GIW did some awful things before they were disbanded but Danny stayed in the realms. He was their king after all. Thousands of years go by and the Justice League decides to summon the Ghost King to deal with a major threat (you can pick what it is) and they summon a 10 year old. Danny decides he’s going to mess with the people of this world.
#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny fenton#danny phantom#poor danny#writing prompt#Danny is stuck as a 10 year old#You could do something like Danny found his true family and then he starts to age at least to where he was before#danny is a little shit#Danny was bored#ghost king danny#justice league#Danny gaslighting the Justice League#Danny: of course I’m the Ghost King!#everyone is confused#I love the idea of Danny being the ancient of Space so he totally haunts the Watchtower after finding out it’s in space#Que Danny imitating the Space Core to annoy the Justice League
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
everyone expected wade to be the overly affectionate one of the two, especially when it came to public interactions. logan was stoic, easily angered, even more easily annoyed. he would probably have a difficult time tolerating wade, much less showing affection towards him.
but everyone who thought this (wade included) did not take into account the fact that the wolverine was safe for the first time in what felt like his entire life. he had spent years burying his grief and loneliness under layer after layer of anger and alcohol - he needed to if he was going to survive it. emotions threatened to eat him alive, he could have gone insane with the grief. he almost did. and the only way he got back to himself (as much as possible, anyway) was to shove it all down as far as he could and cover it with harsh words and whiskey.
he’d never had anybody to share the grief with before. he hadn’t had anyone to make feeling worth while, hadn’t had a family. but here, in wade’s shitty apartment, he was finally home.
logan and althea had gotten along beautifully. sure, in the beginning he still had hard edges and bristled easily, but that wasn’t anything al couldn’t handle. she could hold her own, and each clever insult she hurled at the men had logan grinning privately to himself. as cold as her words could be, he knew she loved wade. and she was letting him stay, too, so he couldn’t be anything but grateful.
althea and logan were quick friends, walking the dog together in the mornings, watching shitty reality tv together, bullying wade together. logan decided very quickly that if anything happened to al, he would kill anyone involved in a way that was particularly painful and torturous.
and then there was the aforementioned dog. mary puppins (AKA dogpool, of course) was the princess of the apartment. logan could only pretend that he was grossed out by her for so long before he caved (you can only get caught kissing her head and calling her an angel so many times before people know that maybe you like her more than you admit). he had become the dad that didn’t want a dog, but was now obsessed. to be fair, everyone obsessed over mary. she got treats, pets, and love every time she walked into a room - with that adorably ugly little face, how could anyone possibly say no?
and finally: wade. wade wade wade. logan would be lying if he said that wade didn’t take up a decent amount of his thoughts at any given time. wade had offered him a home, offered him friendship. and he was quite possibly the only person alive who had the capacity to understand the wolverine. that was something logan didn’t know how badly he needed until he got it.
part two
#this is j a part one i’ll write more ab logan + wade specifically prob after work tn#i was just thinking about how much logan would love his little family and how happy he could be once he’s safe and loved#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine#deadclaws#deadpool#wolverine#blind al#mary puppins#wade wilson#logan howlett
194 notes
·
View notes
Note
For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?
Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.
They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents.
He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.
At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.
Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.
Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.
He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside.
Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.
But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.
At least, not until now.
Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.
For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.
White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.
And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream.
Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high.
He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”
“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”
Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.
Not the kid sleeping on his couch.
“You’re a ghost, yeah?”
Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”
“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”
“She’s a ghost.”
Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”
Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.
“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”
“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”
Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face.
On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.
Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep.
The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating.
He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head.
The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.
“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe.
Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”
The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?
Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”
Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment.
It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.
It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian.
“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”
Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.
“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”
“I’m not dead!” she says again.
“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.
“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.
Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.
“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”
“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.
Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”
She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.
It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist.
“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”
Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”
“What?”
“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”
She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”
“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”
Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said.
And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body.
Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.
“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.
Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”
“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.
Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional.
The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.
“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”
“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”
“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”
“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks.
“I don’t.”
“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.
Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.
“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”
Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her).
Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.
Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath.
He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.
“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.
“Something like that.”
“You should get some sleep too.”
“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”
Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”
“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”
“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”
Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not.
“Then call me Duke.”
“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”
“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”
Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.
“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.
Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.
But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.
He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.
Enough to entrust his identity to him.
Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.
It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together.
There’s no one he’d rather do this with.
“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”
Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”
“Will you tell me more about halfas?”
“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”
“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.
So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp fic#prompt fill#my writing#thought a lot abt what the favor could be but i could not resist the idea of surprise co-parents once i thought of it#here's a kid who clings to someone she knows is safe bc she is scared and alone!!#heres a stressed out hero trying to take care of a kid with no knowledge of how to do that!! and the kid is a ghost!!#heres a ghost king expecting to be used as a weapon and called in for a big battle suddenly finding another halfa!!!#so much going on here. so much to think abt with this!!!!!#i do love found family like this where they all kinda stumble into it and do their best to make it good#also could not resist making yet another oc. chelsea has my whole heart i love her <3 shes my daughter first#the bats dont know abt chelsea yet!! bc she can go invisble. its all been instinct every time they pop over to visit duke#soon she'll be able to control it and meet them properly#by properly i mean dukes gonna go over for sunday brunch and a little girl is gonna pop out from behind him like 'hi! im new!'#they will all love her of course. they will be shocked but happy!!#and a little less happy abt the GHOST KING duke has been hiding in his apartment that hes co-parenting with#sorry for the long tags im obsessed w this idea i want to Expand on it#maybe one day... with my other wips out of the way...
531 notes
·
View notes
Text
Danny regrets every decision he had ever made to lead up to this moment.
“Why the fuck did you bite me?!! Jesus fuck!”
“Oh god it’s seared onto my tongue- why why- when was the last time you bathed?!?”
“Aye fuck you! I didn’t ask for you to bite me in my own house! Why does it fucking BURN?!!??”
Danny gagged as he tried to scrape at his tongue with his nails.
Jason’s head was filling with fog with only the searing pain of his arm seeming to cut through.
The door slammed open as Tim made his entrance.
“Hey Danny everything alright? I heard- what the…”
“I think I’d really rather just drink from the Gotham bay-“
#both boys ended up taking a deep ‘defiantly not a coma’ nap#they were GONE#Jason after waking: why do i suddenly love my family#Danny: still recovering from his -300 IQ move#Danny: you’re welcome#dp x dc#writing prompt#danny fenton#danny phantom#dc x dp#jason todd#that’s how Jason’s pit rage was cured#Tim’s friend is a little wacky#Danny’s flight of fight instincts were more flight or bite this time
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
okay but sarah celebrating tommy every year for mother’s day
#who needs a mommy when you got a tommy#the first time shes does this its preschool teacher maria’s idea#shes four and mothers day is coming up and its usually a hard time for her so joel lets maria know just in case she has any behavioral issue#miss maria is like 🫡 i gotchu#she makes sure to emphasize to the kids that families are all different#they spend every day of may leading up to mother day reading books exploring diversity in families and talking about what mom really means#that it doesnt have to be the person who had you in their tummy or a girl or even a person we call mom#for example miss maria’s real mommy wasnt so nice growing up so miss marias TRUE mommy is just her daddy and her auntie rose#because those are the people that loved her no matter what and kept her safe and taken care of and fed#thats all mom is#it just means someone thats there for you every day and loves you and cares for you#someone who is one of your favorite people and who would say the same about you#all the kids go around and say who they think are their moms#mosy say some iteration of ‘mommy’ and ‘mama’ or ‘grammy’#but then baby ellie says ‘tess and auntie marlene’#and baby sarah says ‘uncle thommy’#one of the other littles says ‘daddy and miss maria’ 😭#and they all make heart cards for their mommy firgures#they cant write or really read anything but a few letters yet#(even though hyperlexic baby sarah does have pretty incredible letter recognition for her age)#so they tell miss maria what to write on their cards and then decorate with oil pastels#sarah’s says dear uncle tommy thank you for being my mommy you are so funny and i love when we play horsey and princesses. happy mommy day#when he picks her up at the end of the day shes like HI MOMMMMM all giggly and hes like ????? hi???? whats this???? OPEN IT OPEN IT OPEN IT#and when he does and read it he literally drops to his knees to hug her and cry#because theres really nothing more precious than his little angel his baby his best girl#thats tommys DAUGHTER DO YALL UNDERSTAND??????#miss maria watching them from the cubbies like: godDAMN theyre so cute#the next day tommy brings her a oat milk chai from her favorite coffee shop as a thank you because it meant a lot to him and shes like ????#how did u know???? and hes like my brother and you ran into each other there last week yeah? he told me abt it i asked for your order#and shes like 🥹🥰🫠 thanks
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
isat’s “what should we do with dead bodies” conversation is so so catastrophic to me- and a little horrifying. there’s a range of knowing how you want to die, with Mirabelle knowing the exact religious way she would prefer to be honored, Odile giving her options & preferences that mainly align with Ka Bue’s ideals, and Isabeau not having much thought beyond the general way Vaugaurde does it. They all have thought about it, and know their options well enough that they have some sort of favor or acceptance of the way their body is handled.
And then there is Siffrin, who doesn’t have this luxury at all in multiple senses. They don’t get to know their options beyond the ones from cultures that aren’t their own, the closest we get to see being “throw my ashes into the sky” which, while definitely symbolic & feels fitting for the country’s connection to the sky above, isn’t solid enough to be coined as what the Country actually does (and still, siffrin wouldn’t personally know that death is handled that way back home). He doesn’t get to die, either, and ever be mourned for. They never see how the party responds to their death in the loops, and seeing as they assumed they would just go back to traveling alone like before at the end of the journey, possibly thought they would die alone or silently, completely unaware they would be missed.
post game as well, we never learn how people from the island honor their dead? the king never says anything about it, and it’s likely siffrin will never learn. the only difference is that, now, siffrin knows they will be missed, however they’re disposed of.
#I know this is like.. surface level observation. stating the obvious and whatnot#but it also is kinda terrifying to me?#being buried is scary- but it America it’s the default method many families use for their loved ones#the very last thing someone ever does to you being out of your hands is scary!#especially in this context where it’s cultural differences.#the country doesn’t seem to Have a method for disposing of bodies.#(that we know for certain!)#and this doesn’t really stop for siffrin either#lmk if I got anything wrong or overlooked something!#I don’t have the dialouge up while writing this… teehee.#isat#in stars and time#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#my thought process died a little by the end. sigh.
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
Clone^2 - Separation Strikes
"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.
His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.
Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.
And it was summer; Damian starts today.
"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."
Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.
"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"
"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."
Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.
Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.
Danny just...
His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.
He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.
Not like he was.
Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.
He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.
Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.
His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.
(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)
Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"
He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.
Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.
He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.
Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."
"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.
Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?
He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."
Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"
Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.
And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.
His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."
Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"
That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"
Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.
"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."
Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.
"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."
Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"
#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpxdc fic#dpxdc ficlet#clone^2#clone danny fenton#MAN I LOVE THIS AU SM#clone danny#danny fenton is a clone#i lomv. them :((( SO MUCH. I'VE MISSED WRITING THEM. i had this idea since talking to purple-goo-writes abt clone danny last week#they mean everything to me. they are the brothers ever. so family coded. don't ask me about the timeline here it doesnt exist#its post-danny's hands getting permanently fucked up and thats it lol.#parent danny is great but 'big brother danny' is SO fucking fun to write. he's silly and goofy and annoying in the way only siblings are#smth about writing danny being so full of love and kindness and protective compassion. bleeding heart that he is. its like doing cocaine#chaotic danny is SO fun and silly but kIND danny is. holy shit its better than getting high. altho ive never been high so i can only guess#there's just smth addictive in writing him being affectionate and loving and caring. he's heartful and heart full.#he's sweet - not like sugar - but like caramel. fulfilling and chewy. a kindness that gets stuck in your teeth and melts on your tongue#he's such an annoying older brother. i love him#bal mithai is a type of pakistani dessert btw. since Nanda Parbat is based off the mountain nanga parbat which is in pakistan. i figured#that the food damian had in the league might've been pakistani-based. or at least heavily pakistani in orign. maybe. i just didn't wanna#look up 'arabic desserts' and pick the first one off the list. felt inauthentic that way alsdh#translations since you wont get it through google translate:#1. 'are you nervous beloved?' 2. 'no! I am not nervous!' 3. 'I'm not everyone' 4. 'let me go brother!'#while i dont usually use 'little brother' or 'brother' as terms of endearments between siblings. Jazz canonically calls Danny that and#i figured if i worded it in a way that sounded natural. it would sound less soul-crushingly cringy. look as someone wit THREE siblings.#i know exactly how siblings interact with one another. but this felt like a special exception. they don't say it often
245 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rhaenyra and Daemon with first-born Aegon, by Gary Gianny
#Grrm writing about baby Aegon in italics and commissioning art of him with his parents he said: That's my little family! 😤☝️#i love this official art so much I'm gonna cry#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon x rhaenyra#daemyra#asoiaf#hotd#art#daemon targaryen#aegon iii
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
actually I love Tentoo and he is the Doctor and it was the only ending for Rose that worked and it is a huge gift to be able to have the man she loves grow old with her, they were always heading for that, y'all be quiet. I 100% understand the angst but it's okay, they're okay, good ending-
#did you want her to...not end up with the doctor?#she ended up with the doctor. she ended up with the doctor and they get to AGE together#they get to have a real honest relationship the way they both always genuinely wanted#it's hard that the full time lord version has to carry on without her but that is the way that character's story ALWAYS goes#the doctor does not get to keep ANYONE. it would be a different show if he did#meanwhile there is a version of that same face of his - the one that was MADE for love? particularly born out of love for ROSE? the one 1/2#2/2 that always wanted a FAMILY? and stability? and a normal life? the tenth doctor longed for that specifically because of rose#now he gets to have it AND be part-human so he doesn't have to watch her get old. he gets old WITH HER#and they're canonically growing their own Tardis so you don't even have to be sad that they're not adventuring in time and space as usual#because they ARE. it's the kindest ending for either character. and if the full time lord hadn't left without either of them-#-he would have had to lose them eventually. lose Rose because she's human? hello? painful? but instead he was selfless and left her-#-with a proper happy ending. which she CHOSE to have so you can't be like “he tricked her!” she chose to kiss one of them and it was Tentoo#they are the same man. Rose won in this scenario.#and I GET IT I am with Billie Piper I think it will always feel a little off that she was left with Tentoo and not the full time lord#I understand. it still makes me a little sad. but I know it's a good ending writing-wise. really the ONLY ending.#yes I know about the popular idea of Immortal!Rose or Bad Wolf Rose or whatever and that's cute and all BUT - it's not a GOOD thing#it's not PREFERABLE to be immortal. Rose doesn't want to live forever. she wants to be with the man she LOVES forever.#she doesn't want to not die or adventure for all time. she wants to be there to hold his hand. and when Tentoo is born she gets THAT!#Immortal!Rose is tragic. the Doctor would not wish the burden of immortality on the woman he loves HELLO#anyway#I ship timepetals. that includes Tentoo/Rose. because he is the doctor#so there#I have more thoughts on Tentoo specifically but I digress#maybe if provoked in an Ask or something idk#doctorrose#timepetals#opinion piece#tenrose#tentoo#handy
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
no matter what you do, don't think about xaden writing to Sloane during Liam's first year, giving her updates on how her brothers doing (and stupid things he does). Don't think about Liam telling Xaden things to include in his letters, advice on how to climb the gauntlet, information about Deigh and flight lessons. Don't think about Liam then rushing back to his room, writing down all the things he forgot to tell Xaden to tell Sloane (and all the little things that are just for them).
Don't think about Sloane getting a letter from basgiath, excited that Liam's year of no-letters is finally over, only to see Xaden's handwriting telling her that her brother is dead.
#fourth wing#iron flame#the empyrean#sloane mairi#liam mairi#xaden riorson#I'm not ok in case you couldn't tell#also I love the idea of xaden writing to the marked ones not in the quadrant when they're siblings can't#just little things so that they know their only family left is still alive#with advice on how to survive sprinkled in
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
BRUTUS pt.1!!
THIS IS A SONGFIC RAHHH
summary: uhoh yu jie go a lil’ cray-cray 🤪🤪🤪 lil peice of lore drop!!
ive been watching him for my entire life
“Oh what’s that!“ my younger brother squeals digging through my cupboard filled with stories.
I try to supress a grimace, as he rips out pages hazardly. I want to shout, to scream. But I know I’ll be punished.
i hate the air he breathes, his foolish decrees
He grins up at me light shining in his eyes. Oh how desperately I wish to put it out.
his words so contrived
“When I’m older I wanna be just like you Yu Jie!“ He says splattered in colorful paint, while Father ruffles his hair and whistles. and i hate the way the townspeople gather outside “Wow! This is a work of art!“ My mother gasps as she holds out my brothers newest work of trash. A bunch of scribbles is what it truly was.
they hang on every breath, cling to his chest “Yu Jie! How dare you make fun of your brother!“ My mother cries, I clench my fists as I look down at the ground. “Answer me!“ She raises her hand quickly, and I flinch. My first mistake. She narrows her eyes down at me before pinching my arm, “Listen here young lady, we do not disrespect our male relatives“ Tears streak my cheak as I try not to cry from her grip. She pinches tighter. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.“ “...Yes Mother.“ home to his heart full of pride
“Awwwww... ʰᵃ́ᵒʸᵘ̀ this is a beautiful poem!“ Mother gushed over him while Father smoked a pipe and coughed all the smoke over the kitchen table.
’Why do I never get proper recognition? Just why?’
the oracle told him to beware the ides
He looks down clearly sad, I don’t care but Mother and Father would get on my case for not asking why.
“What’s wrong?“ I nudge him slightly wth my foot not wanting to get closer
“N-nothing...“
I narrow my eyes, he was always bad at hiding secrets.
and id be lying if i said i wasnt wishing
He giggles holding up a red toy, red.
Red was all I could see.
for untimely death or demise
“What do you mean Scarlett??“ I glare down at the girl trying so hard not to cry, creasing the newspaper almost causing rips in the paper.
Idiot. You can’t rely on anyone ever since the princess came to power...
“I- Well I just-“ She babbles on, I grimace and snatch it away from her and open it up.
He was on the front page.
I was not.
or am i wishing i could be like you
He grabs me by my ponytails and throws me in the cellar.
His beady eyes watching me.
Forever judging.
He wouldn’t do this to him.
Of course not! He’s the golden child after all...
that the people would see me too as a poet
’She ruffles my hair and looks down at me, the light shining in her eyes.’
’Oh how I ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ my mother...’
’And oh how she ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ me...’
and not just the muse
I woke up. Bedroom was as small and dusty as usual.
I should get a maid, but Mother only says ’dignified’ children get servants.
Then why does he have one?
Tagging!!
@babyghoul138 @cheerleaderman @twtysevapr @jewelulu
@beneathsakurashade @bunniehunn @the-rini-rush
@theolivetree123 @teighveepao @skrimpyskimpy @skibidibabygirl
@cloudiepuffs @kuragebride @4necdote @blood-red-bumblebee
@quartztwst @anonymousplant @gl00myb3arz
@imafrealinrainbow478484 @justyoureverydaytwstsimp
@angelwishezz @lavanda-fanstamal @amai-sakura-chan
@lpendergast @verysadsnail @ghostiidasponk @oya-oya-okay
@shinysparklesapphires @lilpainter123 @h0neybane
@buttholesparkles @day-dr3aming @mhedusard @tsubomisno1fan
@teighveepao @jadenui @rainesol
PLS LEMME KNOW IF U DONT WANNA BE TAGGED OR DO :33
#yu jie#’my name is brutus and my name means heavy’ 🗣🗣🗣#twst yuu#is it obvious yu jie is from the victorian era/an actually disney inspired world while all my other yuus are NAWT#anyway yu jie has a SUCH a sense of self-loathing she’s beating leona#bro i started writing this in october...#bad writing#hans christen anderson#hans christian andersen#uhm does she harbor some kind of unchecked misogyny that comes from her family???#yes#RAHH I LOVE THIS SONG#twisted wonderland#twst#angst#(...kindaaa)#i think#bro i hate writing#its so fun but i think im about to cry#/nsrs btw#oh yu jie my little fucked up daughter...#part one bcs i was too tired to write the whole thing#srry broskis 😞😞😢😢😢#and uhm yu jie comes from a classist family#so she kind of sucks#writing#oc writing
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Perona and Mihawk
Okay I think I’ve found some of the words.
yeah I don’t think Mihawk understands the concept of protecting your loved ones; because he is attracted to strength, you wouldn’t be his loved one if he didn’t think you were strong and so to him being assured in the knowledge that your cherished ones can and will protect themselves from almost anything is the ultimate act of love. And then allowing them the opportunity to die at the hands of someone stronger, someone worthy is an extension of that. Given the desires he has for his own death he probably thinks it’s a way to honor them.
And the flip side of that is that when those people “fail” when they lose to people (or fish no matter how giant ) that Mihawk has deemed “unworthy” then he’s disappointed. Either they’re not as strong as he thought they were or they’re so reckless and stupid it doesn’t matter and Mihawk can’t abide by either.
And it’s like Mihawk’s never had a child right. Someone literally incapable of protecting themselves from most threats but what he does have
is Perona.
GIF by beif0ngs
Okay wait stay with me here,
I’ve been trying to figure out where she fits in, in all this because I love her and I live for their dynamic with Zoro as a family. But Zoro and Mihawk have this thing that binds them and that relationship is an aspect of Shanks’ with Luffy but Mihawk doesn’t meet Zoro when he’s a vulnerable child. He meets him when he’s a man grown, more than capable of protecting himself and fighting his battles. Hell they wouldn’t even have a relationship if Mihawk thought zoro needed protection and so while meeting him unlocked an understanding of what Shanks saw in Luffy enough to wait for him how ever long it took. He’s still missing the protection part, the reason losing an arm was worth seeing the boy safe. Cause Mihawk’s ready to throw away zoro the moment he perceives weakness.
Enter Perona
And don’t get me wrong Perona’s not in any way weak. Her devil fruit makes her pretty op but the thing is she is the definition of devil fruit dependent, which is obviously fine and dandy and did get her far in Paradise but is not gonna be enough to hang with the big bosses in the New World or be on Mihawk’s radar. Usually, when they don’t unceremoniously get dropped on his island by a brainwashed cyborg bear, and proceeds to break into your castle with a moss headed idiot, that is
GIF by bubbly-bungee-may
She is arguably the “weakest” person Mihawk knows in a none hostile capacity (because I do think she beats buggy) and she is the anthesis of everything we know Mihawk to care about;
She’s not that strong, doesn’t care about being strong or sword fighting, is whiny, has no haki, is lazy and wants everything to be done for her and most unforgivably, like a true self-love icon, she wants to improve on literally none of that! She has literally spent 2 years living with probably one of the best masters of Haki and she doesn’t try to learn once! She is completely content with the level she is at and that is completely fine! But part of that is because she knows, no matter how unbelievable, Mihawk will protect her. He may sulk and sigh and roll his eyes but he will protect her.
Like can you imagine! Mihawk, probably believes in the saying “the strong do what they can, the weak suffer what they must” Mihawk, can, will and has protected her!
GIF by bubbly-bungee-may
The thing Mihawk is most attracted to, the thing he has built almost every other relationship around, is strength and yet he keeps her around.
He watches this loud, “average”, whiny, fearless young woman skulk/float around his castle, complaining about everything, and remembers a story that Shanks told him; about a little boy and how he gave his arm to an unworthy opponent to save him without care or hesitation, how he’d do it a thousand times over, and he thinks he understands now, just a little bit.
#mishanks#dracule mihawk#one piece#goth family#akagami no shanks#Perona#roronoa zoro#wow#writing this took a lot out of me#honestly Perona was not supposed to feature so heavily in this but then I started writing#and it all started to click#I think the aspects of Luffy and Shanks relationship is split into Mihawk’s relationship with Perona and Zoro#which is honestly a great way to do that#I love this both little family so much#there’s still a lot I want to touch on on the Shanks side of this#alliance of the bug eyed#throwing thoughts to the void#hawkeye mihawk#red hair shanks#ghost princess perona#op
64 notes
·
View notes