#hes such a momma's boy

[senditothemoonn]

It took them 4 hours to get ready because Francis spent 3 of them begging Arthur not to wear socks with sandals.

[choccy-milky]

being weak for clora is in the DNA 💕 like father like son 😊

[clairesbeauchamp]

i'm so thankful for all of the girls you loved before, but i love you more

[arrowheadedbitch]

I feel like Apollo would really feel for percy when he goes "I am SALLY JACKSON'S son!" He'd have such respect for him, be real.

Oh, you like your mom WAYYY more than your dad? FELT

[lilislegacy]

headcanon that percy and annabeth’s first baby’s favorite toy is a rubix cube. and when he’s an itty bitty baby, he just likes to hold it and wave it around and look at the colors. but then as he gets a little older, and you know, develops fine motor skills, he starts twisting it. he probably solves it for the first time when he’s like 1, which makes percy jump up and down over how genius his baby boy (OR GIRL @screenshotsonpinterest) is

and i don’t know why or when or how, but i know for a fact that at some point, that baby chucks that thing right at zeus. and it hits him square in the forehead. perfect shot.

i don’t make the rules

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[everwistfully]

Objectively speaking; I LOVE thinking abt the body types of the Robins and how it would've come to be. Like Dick??? He'd have the BROADEST shoulders and PROB tits to go with them! Ya know?? Cause of his more excessive acrobatics and his fighting style. He'd be the PERFECT example of the triangle; the broad shoulders to the tits to the tiny waist with the ass.

And Jason??? Jason's just ALL muscle but like that type of muscle that really only makes him look BIG and like only looks muscular when he's flexing. And this would be both a good and a bad thing for him. Essentially he gained all his muscle mass and newfound height while with the league/in the Pit so there's that but also, I'm sure he’s the exact type of person Little Jason thought he'd grow to be so that he could protect all those he loved that he was too small, at the time, to protect. I'm sure he also must have some mixed emotions abt the connections one could draw between him and Bruce without him also growing to look so much like him.

And Tim??? He's just all wiry muscle, a sleeper build, if you will. He's def got the shoulders and defined pecs but because of his overall slender build, you wouldn't notice. He's obvi MUCH stronger than he looks and it THROWS everyone off. And his legs??? Women are JEALOUS! He'd look GREAT in heels. ;) I'm sure that he suspected this would how he'd always be; smaller. But it must be so difficult to accept because of everyone around him (the batfam) and I can only imagine that he tries to draw inspiration from his mother who was in his same shoes but inspired respect and fear wherever she went.

But Damian??? I'm hesitant to go one way or another with him but I LOVE the idea of him, in the end, leaning towards his mother's physical features. He has the traits of his father but features of his mother and he'd feel so put out because of this. He's The Blood Son of The Batman and he can't have features leaning on the lean, fast, and slender side. On the other hand, he could be the carbon copy of his father which has its own emotional turmoil within it. And for personal reasons, I hope he does grow to be more like his mother because I think that while in his fathers care, this will indirectly force Damian to actually discover himself and not just accept to be his fathers perfect shadow until he becomes that shadow.

[fannyyann]

the face of a man who's been getting away with things his entire life

[drenched-in-sunlight]

it’s a small detail but i really like that only in Duskborn ending the Mending Rune clung to the lower half of the Elden Ring? like how Godwyn’s body clung to the Erdtree’s roots.

and technically that is his second life, so it’s like we retuned him to his Mother (and the rune is placed in the position of her womb too).

In the DLC there’s also a similar imagery which is the Base Serpent shadow casting on Marika’s statue, giving an illusion of it curling around her.

Imo, this is kinda like an opposite parallel to Bloodborne? Queen Yharnam wanted us to free Mergo / we freed Orphan and return them back to Kos, so mother’s devotion set them all free in the end.

Meanwhile in Elden Ring, they���d rather cannibalize themselves into curses than let go of her.

[snootlestheangel]

Here's a thought about Ghost I can't get out of my head

Immediately after everything with the cartel, when Simon is in the hospital with so many wounds it's unreal he's still alive. Simon who looks like a mummy from all the bandages keeping him together.

At least physically

Simon Riley who is scared and in pain and not quite sure what's going on. Simon Riley who spent a long time being used as a pincushion. Simon Riley who is all out of sorts from the anesthesia and pain meds. Simon Riley who can barely speak because of his newly acquired Glasgow smile.

Simon Riley who just wants to go home.

Simon who starts to cry and weakly gestures towards the curtain keeping him hidden when he hears his brother's voice talking to the doctor.

Simon who can only whine and make pitiful sounds as he cries because his family is here and he wants them. He doesn't care that he looks this broken, he wants them

Simon who has to get pushed back into the bed when he hears his mother's voice.

Simon who is so scared, so broken that all he wants is his momma. All he wants is to be held by her gentle hands and shushed by her sweet voice.

His mother who fights tooth and nail to see him despite the doctors all saying she might not be able to handle seeing him like this. But she's seen him beaten and bloody by a man she once loved, what could be worse than that?

His mother who sees her son suffering and in pain, but she isn't upset seeing him like this. She can't be, when she knows he's never let her see how badly he's been hurt. His mother who knows Simon Riley would carry the world for his family and not let them see how much it hurt.

His mother who sees her sweet little Simon crying in bed, calling for his mum. His mother who just sits and holds his head in her hands until he falls asleep.

His mother never once leaving his side because he once never left hers.

[ajitomiel]

the al ghul's ft some really old bruce wayne drawings so you understand where damian gets his features from..... still not convinced on ra's design but we're gettin there trust me

[ri4naaa]

so. vivinos dropped a new comic.

[cricket-moth]

superbat fic but clark needs to be directly told that he can tell his parents that bruce is batman… and that just. never comes up. so he just tells Martha Kent that he’s dating Bruce “Brucie” Wayne and that’s it.

Clark: yeah bruce broke a rib again—

Martha, who’s now caught up on the latest Wayne Injury (coverup): oh, bless his heart…

Clark (internally): wow, my mom has been reading tabloids to be able to keep up with bruce’s identity over our phone calls!! that’s incredible!!

Martha (internally): what in the world is wrong with this goddamn idiot. I’m going to have to baby proof the house when he visits. really, Clark?

[lilislegacy]

*set in the future*

camper: hey jackson, how did you figure out how to get past those monsters ealier? leslie said there were hundreds of them in the cavern guarding the staff

percabeth son: *shrugs*

percabeth son: well from a combination of my memory of greek myths and the use of deductive reasoning, i was able to figure out their weaknesses. it wasn’t about being the strongest. i just had to make them think i wanted the same things as them. as my mom always says, even strength must bow down to wisdom sometimes

camper: alright wise guy. but once you got past them and got the staff, how did you get back out? they must have known you tricked them by then

percabeth son: the cavern was below the ocean, i just collapsed it on all of them. it took a few minutes, but i got it

camper: how though? the cavern was thousands of feet below sea level

percabeth son: like my dad always says, given time, water can overcome any barrier

camper: still, that’s a lot of freaking power coming from a legacy. even a big 3 legacy. realistically, you should have been trapped down there

percabeth son: dude, the sea does not like to be restrained

[just-null]

are you oka- oh.

[mas-que-loucura-menina]

Barbara: Okay guys, I need your full legal name for the for these files.

Tim: Timothy Jackson drake Wayne

Dick: Richard John Grayson Wayne

Damian: Damian Al ghul wayne

Jason: Jason Peter Todd Knight Haywood Al Ghul of Endless Wayne.

Barbara, Tim, Damian, Dick: 👁️👄👁️

Jason: what?