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#is my family just weird
ionomycin · 10 months
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wild strawberries
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sysig · 3 months
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Permission to headbutt: Granted (Patreon)
#My art#UT#Sans#Papyrus#Ft. something smol and I do on a regular basis ♪#This could be Handplates or it could be classic Undertale I leave that up to you lol#I definitely picked up a lot of the style quirks lol - but there are some of the ones that I like myself! Like Papyrus' darkmode clothes lol#And Sans' shorts having the stripe in the front haha - little details ♫#Realistically it probably is Handplates tho just based on where my head's at lol - I love the Handplates dynamic :D#Handplates#I talked myself into it! Pfft ♪#I found myself relating a lot to Sans especially while rereading - I want nothing more in the world than for my siblings to be happy! <3#So I gathered up a bunch of ideas of things especially me and smol do together and this was the most obviously cute one haha#Easiest to do! Tho I did still go a little extra on this lol#I'm trying to do more digital stuff ♪ It wasn't the best art day and I'm still a little nervous to jump right in :')#Not doing any sketches on paper beforehand feels weird but I guess it is thematic in a way lol#And I'm still pleased with how they turned out hehe#It really does feel nice to be drawing them again <3#And doing silly sibling things! Hehe#I dunno how clear it is since it's so ingrained into how smol and I talk to each other lol family language!#One of us will literally just announce ''bonk'' and the other will prepare for/lean in for a headbutt haha#She is a tiny bit taller than me - it's not quite /this/ extreme but she does lean down for me! S'cute <3#I like to think Papyrus would do the same hehe ♪ Let your lazy brother headbutt you! He can only reach so far!#On minimal effort anyhow hehe#It's just a fun way to be silly together ♫♪#Also yes I did show this to her and she cosigned lol - ''Cute'' -smol
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chaos-bringer-13 · 1 month
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I've seen a lot of people writing Danny as a space ancient and Dan and Dani as ghosts with moon and sun cores, being sort of parts, versions of Danny and therefore weaker. Now, consider: Dan and Dani are both powerful ghosts with really cool cores and stuff but Danny is just some guy™
Dan, who came from an alternate timeline and is kind of from the future but also not, is Clockwork's apprentice and will eventually become an ancient of time. He probably only agreed to have some lessons with Clockwork to understand better what happened to him, but he enjoys his apprenticeship now.
Dani, with her love of travelling, loves seeing all the different places the world offers to her, and that includes space and different planets and maybe even parallel universes, and she accidentally ends up being an apprentice of the space ancient. For now she's probably a baby ancient of freedom or something like that, but she might become an ancient of space in the future.
We can also have something like Dan having a core of destruction or Dani being the Speed Force if you want it to be dcxdp, or any headcanon of yours about their cool powers.
And then there's Danny. And yeah, everyone knows that he's super powerful, but also he's just some guy.
It can go different routes. Does everyone know that Danny is just Danny? Or do they think that with siblings (well, technically a clone and an alternate version, but whatever) so powerful, he must be even stronger? Is Danny actually something terrifyingly eldritch and ancient and strong, almost a god, but he just doesn't know himself? Or is he just really some guy?
Now, because it's obvious that I have a dcxdp brainrot, have a regular "JL summons/meets a powerful ghost" but its Dan and Dani, and they keep mentioning their original/brother who won a fight against them at some point. The JL is very concerned about Dan and Dani's godlike powers, and they can't imagine what Danny is like. And then they meet him (in his human form), and it's just a young adult in casual clothes, very friendly and helpful, with no evident powers. Imagine the confusion. Imagine Dan and Dani, radiating power, in their eldritch ghost forms, admitting that fighting Danny for real is the dumbest thing to do and not even they would succeed... And then there's Danny is jeans and silly t-shirt, waving shyly.
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fenkko · 1 year
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the little siblings of scara and childe 👨‍👨‍👧‍👦
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francy-sketches · 7 days
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cringe ass family ❤
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gollancz · 6 months
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Happy Paperback Publication Day to @jonnywaistcoat and FAMILY BUSINESS!
DEATH. IT’S A DIRTY BUSINESS. When Diya Burman’s best friend Angie dies, it feels like her own life is falling apart. Wanting a fresh start, she joins Slough & Sons – a family firm that cleans up after the recently deceased. Old love letters. Porcelain dolls. Broken trinkets. Clearing away the remnants of other people’s lives, Diya begins to see things. Horrible things. Things that get harder and harder to write off as merely her grieving imagination. All is not as it seems with the Slough family. Why won’t they speak about their own recent loss? And who is the strange man that keeps turning up at their jobs? If Diya’s not careful, she might just end up getting buried under the family tree. . .
'A triumph, thriving on relatable fears, hyper-realistic dirty homes, and understandable grief' - Fantasy Hive
'It completely blew me away' - FanFi Addict
'Don't read by yourself in a strange hotel room if you want to come out psychologically unscathed' - Me, specifically, learning lessons the hard way so that other people don't have to.
If you want a book that will:
Make you twitch at strange shapes outside the windows as the nights get darker
Break you in the smallest ways with the simplest observations of the meaning of humanity and love
Give you new and exciting things to be scared of that actually, on reflection, had probably always been lurking in the depths of your psyche just waiting to be called up
FAMILY BUSINESS is the book you want to grab.
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chiakery · 7 months
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Dropout newsletter this week:
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Me:
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s0fter-sin · 13 days
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i need ghoap frantically making out against a door finally taking the leap on their feelings. need ghost grinding against soap, expecting to find him just as hard as him, only to feel nothing
and in all his wisdom and experience, he concludes soap was tortured and never told him
he’s trying to think of a delicate way to say he understands, that he’s been through it and it doesn’t change anything about how he feels (and who the fuck touched him so he can hunt them down and rend them limb from limb)
meanwhile trans!soap’s just trying to find the best angle to grind his cunt on ghost’s thigh
just it never even entering ghost’s head bc he’s never known a trans person but he has met plenty of people who’ve been tortured - himself included - so of course that’s his logical leap
soap takes off his shirt and he sees his top surgery scars and ghost asks if he wants him to kill the one who did it and soap just hums like, “actually, man did pretty good, they healed real well,” and ghost’s just teary-eyes with awe at how well he’s coping, “looking on the bright side, that’s my johnny.”
imagine he thinks johnny was fully castrated but sees he’s determined to still have a sex life with him so he buys packers and straps to help him bc hell yeah healing and soap’s just like, “holy shit i’ve never had such a thoughtful partner before, such a sweet man, lt.”
#he a little confused but he got the spirit#its so good bc it can be super angsty of ghost really dreading whats been done to his sergeant and trying to make it right#or just go full crack treated seriously and have fun with it#i love just completely oblivious ghost#in any military context hes the smartest guy in the room#he always knows the play and has more experience than anyone#but stick him in the normal world? man is Lost#ghost just thinks hes had some kind of reconstruction surgery after being tortured and accepts thats what johnny looks like#bc hes never seen a pussy before#it takes years for soap to actually come out to him bc he just never thought to#hes seen him naked theyve literally slept together what else is there for him to say#then he shows him like a family album or something and ghosts just like ‘why arent you in any of these i only see girls’#and he just goes ‘hang on a second’#soap gets one of his sporadic periods one night and panics a little thinking it would weird ghost out or remind him that hes not cis#but ghost just thinks its a normal part of such a thorough reconstruction that hed bleed sometimes#and doesnt question it when soap grabs a pad out of his drawer bc ‘thats such a good way of handling the discharge my johnnys so smart’#just really supportive ghost for the wrong reasons#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#we’re a team. ghost team#soapghost#ghostsoap#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#john soap mactavish#soap cod
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generic-sonic-fan · 2 months
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While I absolutely adore Shadow speaking with 50/60s slang, I equally love the concept of him and Maria and maybe like the five other total children (high estimate) aboard the ARK coming up with their own slang and then Shadow just assuming that slang is universal once he gets to Earth. Catch him saying shit like "don't count the guinea pigs until the testing is over" and Sonic and co. look at him like "????? Shadow what the FUCK are you talking about ????"
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ
(First Post Here and Second Post Here
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Danny finds Sam easily.
She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 
("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)
("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")
(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")
(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")
("Thanks, Danny.")
He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.
Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.
His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 
(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)
Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."
"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.
As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.
He wasn't that arrogant.
...Anymore.
"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.
"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."
Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"
Danny immediately frowns.
"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."
Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.
Oh.
Danny knows that tone too.
Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  
Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.
But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 
Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.
It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."
She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."
"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."
He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.
"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."
Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."
She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."
"Such violence, Sam."
He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.
Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 
He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 
"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"
As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 
Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."
Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.
He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."
"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."
Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.
(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)
(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)
(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)
(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 
He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 
They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 
He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 
When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 
Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 
“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan
He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 
Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 
Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 
Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 
“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 
Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 
Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 
There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 
His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 
Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”
“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 
“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 
Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.
Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpdc#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him#this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class#it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a#cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next#its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water#it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance#how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling#backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna#have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact#imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine#danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the#'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al#so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne
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inbrightshadows · 10 months
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*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]
The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.
Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.
Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.
Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.
Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.
Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.
And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.
Then there's Leo.
In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.
Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.
He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.
And then Casey Jr gets sick.
It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.
It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.
There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.
Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’
Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.
It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.
But bad luck is bad luck.
Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.
“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.
Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.  
The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.  
The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.
Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.
And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.
So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.
When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.
“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.
“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.
Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help  Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.
Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.
That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.
The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.
He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.
He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.
His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.
All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.
On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.
“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?” 
Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.
Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.
It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.
There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.
To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.
The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.
He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.
Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.
“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.
Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.
Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.
Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.
He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.
“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.
Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.
“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.
Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.
He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.
Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.
He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.
Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.
“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.
A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.
Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”
Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”
“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”
Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”
Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.
“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.
He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.
For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.
It’s gone.
Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.  Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.
“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.
Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.
The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.
He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.
“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.   “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.
“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”
Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.
There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.
He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.
Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.
Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.
“Bemused scoff.”
Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.
“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”
Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”
“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.
“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.
“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.
It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.
Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.
The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.
And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.
Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.
He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.
It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.
“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game,  is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.
“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.
“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.”  Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.
“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.
“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.
“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.
Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.
“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”
“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.
Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.
“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.
The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.
“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”
Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.
“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”
Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.
Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.
“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-”  “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.
Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.
“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.
Mikey flees with a yelp.    Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.
Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”
And Leo lies.
Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.
“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  
Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.
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fumifooms · 3 months
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Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.
His grey hairs are so earned
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#Chilchuck tims#dungeon meshi#analysis#HAPPY CHILCHUCK DAY#You know what yeah understandable have a good day#Alcohol be a ticket straight to chilling out town I suppose#Spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#Thinking on if I should split my family masterpost into diff posts for max reach hmm#Anyways I’m def editing in the second page into that post that “I’ve got three people to think of here” sounds sooo much like that’s#How he’d think about it in a family setting as well. He works so hard for them 🥺#I could have put 100 pics on this post to justify everything I mentioned but this is a speedrun for a reason. I’m planning so many#Compilations rn i need a break from rereading lol#He’s just here to do his work!! He just wanna do his work!!!#I’m always rotating him in my brain like rotisserie chicken :( Hopefully this doesn’t sound disjointed or insane to average readers#He’s always on his guard so he has a short fuse and his type of humor & liking for snarky remarks doesn’t help#Also bc he knows nothing lasts he has a very work hard play hard mentality where ‘dying doing something you love. Like drinking’#Is nice in his opinion#This post makes it all sound so dry. Chilchuck is so messy thinking about him is thrilling I swear. This is concise but at what cost…#OH ALSO he has weird self-hate issues where he really values his skills but devalues himself on a personal level.#‘I am a coward. I only care about myself. I cheated on my wife (lying for no reason)’ etc etc#Can’t disappoint people and make them leave you if they already have no expectations and esteem of you 😏💡
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carlyraejepsans · 12 days
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*just remembered that people are actually touched and moved by my art and look forward to seeing it and it's not just something that affects me and me alone which i throw into the internet's jaws sometimes resulting in Number Go Up* Huh.
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y97dgu · 1 year
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“Uncle, did amad make you that scarf?”
“She did.”
Happy Holidays & New Year!
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nouverx · 14 days
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I just had the intense realization that Alastor, aka the last person in universe that anyone would ever consider to be sentimental or the type to consider his friends family, was the first person to coin the term Found Family in CANON! Legit he was the first to bring up the idea of the Hotel being a family!
YEAH NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT??? I didn't even fully see them as a found family before he brought it up ahah, that line in the song made me think about it harder and be like "Oh wait YEAH they kinda are"
I don't think he was sincere at that moment ("I'm making Charlie believe we are a family so she doesn't feel the need to reconnect with her dad" yk) but it means the idea of them being a family was already somewhere in the back of his head 👀 Alastor is there something you would like to share with the class
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risenshiney · 10 months
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💛🐶SCRIMBLY GOOD BOY HOURS
SKRUNKLY POTATO MOMENTS🐶💛
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