Afterdeath/Poth Story Pile (Complete)

Two Drabbles cuz I'm still workin' through this writers block

I'm actually writing a two parter!! This is the first one in a while! But I wanted to write more drabbles since they're easier to write.//

(This first drabble is like a part 1 to the next story)
Power. That's what Lotus has. He's not as physically strong as Rurik, not as mentally willed as Goth, or overwhelmingly and seeming optimistic like Palette, he was powerful. Not that he'd wanted this power to begin with. He never wanted to be created as a weapon, as his fathers little god of destruction. But here he was, created by a god, to destroy gods. He wonders if his life will always be such a poetic tragedy. He looks down at the floor beneath him, its completely chard and drained of all it's life... A cycle he must complete or the amount of power he has will consume him... But would that be a bad thing? He figures if he really wanted to, he could destroy his ownself. He stops himself there, and returns to his study, "not now..." He reminds himself, "but eventually".

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

Following his fathers footsteps, Goth worked long and late shifts. Being the Angel of Death wasn't easy work, especially as it grew colder. Which usually meant he got home in the early mornings, so much like today, he quietly opens the door of the bedroom and smiles tiredly at the sight of his sleeping husband with their sleeping kid tucked safely in the others arms, a story book laid on the ground forgotten. He walks over quietly, checking the time, before gently waking up his lover with a soft kiss, Palette stirred before looking up at the other, a sleepy hand gently cups Goth's face, "morning" he hums, Goth sighs, "morning sunshine, you have work soon" Goth reminds, Palette groans quietly, before a lazy grin falls stretched across his face, "mmmm, to bad I have a baby sleeping." Goth rolls his eye, before scooping up his son, Palette groans but sits up and says, reaching out to his husband, Goth huffed leaning  into the others open arms. "You're lucky I'm exhausted." Goth commented, gently rubbing his sleeping sons back, Palette hummed, "guess I am."