Rating:

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceNo Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom:

DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)

Characters:

Mark BeaksEmma Glamour (Disney)

Additional Tags:

Verbal AbuseSuicidal ThoughtsSuicidal Thoughts Mentioned

Language: English Stats:Published:2025-03-11Words:644Chapters:1/1Hits:0

“Are you finally proud of me, mom?…”

1anon1

Summary:

Parents are meant to be caring and protective, shaping children into loving individuals who seek to help others. However, children who grow up without this nurturing guidance, but others who don’t grow up with these parents, develop a sense of mistrust and emotional detachment. Lacking love and support, they build walls around themselves, using power and ambition to protect their vulnerable, hollow inner self, focused more on surviving than on caring for others.

Notes:

⚠️Suicidal thoughts Warning⚠️ Why do all of the best ideas come to me at 3am tf😭

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Parents are…well supposed to be caring and kind. Protecting their children in every aspect and possible way. Kids who have or had parents like this grow up to be loving and knowing and they often become heroes, looking to help and care for everyone and everything.

But when other children grow up without that nurturing guidance, they don’t develop the same sense of trust or safety. Instead, carrying the weight of unspoken pain, learning early that the world can be a place of cruelty. Mark beaks learned that lesson at a young age—his parents, distant and harsh, never taught him how to love others or how to expect love in return. He built walls, grew cold, and used his ambition and power as a shield, hoping no one would ever see how hollow he truly felt inside. It wasn’t about caring for others—it was about surviving, about protecting himself from the brokenness that threatened to consume him every time he let his guard down.

Marcus sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, his small hands gripping the edge of the blanket tightly. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed on his chest and made it harder to breathe. He had just overheard his parents’ shouting match from the hallway—his father’s voice low but full of venom, his mother’s shrill and desperate, cutting through the thick walls of the house. He didn’t understand most of what was said, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to. He knew what it meant.

He wasn’t enough.

His father had said it before, but hearing it again made his heart ache with a pain he couldn’t name. "You're not the son I wanted," his voice echoed in Marcus’s head. Marcus clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut as tears threatened to spill. His throat tightened, and he tried to swallow the lump that had formed, but it wouldn’t go away. He didn’t want to cry—he wasn’t allowed to cry. That’s what his father would say. His mother would just roll her eyes. No one cared. No one ever cared.

The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps approaching his door. Marcus quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and turned toward the sound. His mother appeared in the doorway, her expression unreadable but cold, like she was already distancing herself from the boy sitting on the bed.

"Stop acting like a baby," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. "We don’t have time for your whining." Her voice was cold and harsh “We don’t need you here, it’s better if you kill yourself…no one would care”

Marcus froze in place upon hearing his mothers words cut through the air. He didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t allowed to speak when they were angry…or any time for that matter, he didn’t dare too. So he sat there in silence, his small body trembling as he tried to hold himself together. He wanted so badly to shout, to ask why they didn’t love him the way he saw other parents love their kids. But he knew better than to ask. His voice wasn’t wanted here.

His mother’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before she sighed and turned away, leaving him alone again, trapped in the quiet, with the unspoken weight of being unwanted pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. ‘No one…’ the words replaying in his head, he was shaking.

He made a promise to himself that night. He was going to prove them all wrong, everyone who had ever hurt him. Because he was Mark beaks, and no one could stop him. Look out world, I’ll show you all. I’ll be someone you can’t ignore.

“Are you finally proud of me, mom?…”

Notes:

Thanks for reading chat, if you guys have ideas or want any free writing commissions feel free to ask me in the comments!

(I don’t own Mark beaks, but boy do I like giving him trauma😼the bitch needs therapy😭🙏)

Follow me on ao3 if you enjoy this stuff or a Mark beaks fan!

1anon1