#Father drabbles

[brotheramberland]

Senseis' as fathers with a child!reader that was born blind.

Senseis' include: Kakashi Hatake, Satoru Gojo, Yami Sukehiro, and Levi Ackerman.

Please keep in mind: All character & reader interactions are purely platonic. There is NO romance. The reader is somewhere below the age of twelve and is portrayed as non-binary. These drabbles are meant to be platonic, fluffy and comforting.

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Kakashi Hatake

"Do you have a good sense of your surroundings?" Kakashi asked from where he knelt beside you.

You sported a determined expression that he couldn't help but to find both adorable and admirable. Even blind you still tried your hardest to improve your skills no matter how dangerous it may be. It made him proud and also worried him to death.

"Mhm," You nodded, tilting your head, "There's a tree five meters that way. I think I know where to go."

"Very good," Kakashi patted your back, "Just remember, if you happen to fall, I'll be right there to catch you."

"Ok, daddy," You smiled at him before focusing all your attention on using echolocation to navigate the branch you wanted to jump on. If you were going to be a ninja one day, you had to practice and train with all your might, "Here I go."

Kakashi held his breath while calmly waiting for you to make your jump, his body braced in precaution. A lump grew in his throat and sweat lightly dampened his clothes. Honestly, he might be over-thinking a bit, but he couldn't help it. He loved you so much, and while he respected your desires to train, he still worried about you tremendously.

He had lost so much in his life. Losing the most precious piece of it would cause him to go infinitely insane. Your blindness was an extreme vulnerability, and although you had grown well adapted to it, there was still much you had left to learn. And it didn't help his anxiety any when you decided to do dangerous activities like this.

In a flash, you jumped.

With a stumble, you landed perfectly on the tree branch. Wobbling to regain balance, you blushed in triumph and giggled, "Ah! Did you see that, daddy? I made it!"

Kakashi swiftly jumped onto the same branch, smiling proudly behind his mask, "Yes I did. That was well done, dongo, good job. At this rate, you'll be a ninja in no time."

Delighted by his praise, you grinned and began looking around, getting excited when you sensed yet another nearby branch. "There's another one," You grinned and went to jump.

Kakashi gasped and reached out for you, "Wait, (y/n), not so fast."

This time around, you didn't land where you were supposed to. In fact you didn't come into contact with any trees, and instead fell to the far away ground. "Ahh, daddy!" You cried.

Kakashi caught you in an instant, safely securing you in his arms while landing on a nearby branch, "You okay?"

You whimpered, hugging him tightly and frowning in failure, "Yes, but... I missed."

"That's okay," Kakashi quickly reassured you, running a soothing hand through your messy hair, "We all make mistakes. Why don't you try again, but this time, try not to let your emotions overwhelm you, ok? Often times emotions can be more blinding than blindness itself."

"But... What if I miss again?" You say sadly, "I-if I can't jump like I'm supposed to, then I'll never get to be a ninja, an-and you'll hate me, a-and I w-won't get to be like you-"

"Hey, hey, where's this coming from?" Kakashi grasped your shaking shoulders, looking into your milky, watery eyes, "Dongo, I could never hate you, so don't ever assume that, ok? And this was only your second attempt. You have plenty more to go. Don't be so hard on yourself. One of the most important things about being a ninja is never giving up. You're not giving up, are you?"

Quickly wiping your eyes, you shook your head and say softly, "Do you really think I can do it?"

Kakashi smiled and went to playfully pinch your cheek, kissing you on the forehead through his mask before saying, "I know you can. There's nothing you can't do, (y/n), and I'll always be right here by your side to make sure of that."

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Levi Ackerman

Levi was enjoying one of his rare days off from the ever tiring Survey Corps. He hadn't gotten to see you in over a week- something he chewed Erwin out for sternly. By the time he entered his house, you came rushing towards him, your tiny figure accidentally bumping into things along the way.

"What did I say about running?" He grumbled, unable to resist hugging you whenever you were close enough, "Damn runt, gonna hurt yourself."

"I missed you, daddy," You say in a mixture of sadness and excitement, your cracking voice causing him to frown, "You were gone so long. I-I was scared you wouldn't come back."

"Hmp, so much for faith," Levi ruffled your hair, relief flooding him at finally getting to be at your side again, "Has nanny been good to you?"

You whimpered a bit, your glossy eyes pointing towards the ground, "I like her, but... She doesn't let me draw... or cook... or sew."

At that answer, Levi sighed and palmed his face, cursing nonsense underneath his breath. This was a common problem for you and him; nannies and babysitters not letting you do anything fun all because you were blind. None of them had any patience or consideration and it really got on his nerves.

"Tell me she read to you at least?" He rubbed his temple, not really in the mood to threaten another dumb nanny for mistreating his child, but if he had to he would absolutely give her a piece of his mind.

Your small "yes" was the only thing that saved her.

Seeing the dejection decorating your face, Levi tapped on your nose and said, "Well, you should know it's been a while since I've had some decent food. Get your little butt in there and cook me something already."

Gasping in joy at his given permission to do one of your favorite activities, you nearly leaped into the air, twirling around and giggling excitedly, "Yay! I get to cook for daddy."

Before you could run off, Levi grabbed your hand and grumbled, "No running this time."

You grumbled back at him and marched to the kitchen with a silly pout on your face. Levi shook his head, grinning as he thought about how much he loved you. Honestly, you being blind was kind of a relief to him simply because it meant that you would never be able to fight. And being the protective father he was, he rather preferred it that way.

You were already doing such a good job at basic daily activities like reading braille, learning how to write, cooking small meals, navigating your way through familiar places, and even drawing and sewing. People said you wouldn't develop properly when you were born. Well, Levi would like to see them say that to his face now.

Taking off his jacket, Levi none-too-politely paid the nanny and threw her out of his house. Then he went into the kitchen where you were currently working on mixing eggs in a bowl, your eyes staring mindlessly at the wall. You may be blind, but you made him so unbelievably proud, you had no idea.

"I'm making your favorite, daddy," You say cheerfully when you noticed his presence.

Levi smirked and went to put some fire in the stove, "'Bout time I was spoiled."

You giggled, carefully climbed down from the chair, and walked over to him, reaching out to feel for his hand, "Can I see you?"

After getting the fire started, Levi knelt down in front of you and patiently allowed you to touch his face with your hands. You often did this during moments when he held you, your little hands gently feeling the structure of his face in an attempt to get an idea of what he really looked like.

"I missed you, daddy," You say quietly.

Levi reached forward and pulled you into a firm, loving hug, kissing the side of your cheek, "Missed you too, you little runt."

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Satoru Gojo

Who would have thought that his child would be born with beautiful crystal eyes like he himself had, and yet be cursed never to use them? Even though your disability was not his fault, Gojo still felt guiltily accountable, and always sought protecting you and making you the happiest he possibly could.

Starting a new morning, Gojo carried some fresh, folded clothes into your bedroom, quiet and stealthy. You were sleeping peacefully on your bed, your little snores causing his heart to flood with endearment. Gosh, you were so precious to him.

Setting the clothes down, Gojo knelt beside the bed and reached out to brush a gentle hand through your hair. You whimpered, your head stirring around on the pillow. "Hm? Hello? Rise and shine," He playfully sang.

You groaned softly, your body stretching out as your eyes squinted open. "Mm... Daddy?" You reached out to feel for him as your eyes stayed aimed towards the ceiling.

"Morning, my little angel," Gojo grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently, "Time to get up."

"Are you taking me to work today?" You asked curiously, tilting your head towards him, your hand tensing within his own larger one, "What if they don't like me?"

"Are you kidding me? They're gonna love you," Gojo blew raspberries and laughed, "And if they don't, then guess what? More butts' for me to leave my ultra-famous, Gojo styled foot print on."

Giggling at his joke, you reached out with your free hand and go to feel the blind-fold covering his powerful eyes, "I wish I could be more like you."

That sent a bullet roaring through Gojo's heart. He absolutely hated it when you degraded yourself and/or claimed that you wished you were different. It broke his heart more than you could ever imagine. "Hmm, well I love you just the way you are," He said casually.

"In fact I'd give up my own eyes any day to be just like you; free house, free food, the world's most riveting, handsome dad (if I do say so myself), and of course the opportunity to never have to work in a dangerous environment," Gojo smiled and patted your head, "There are plenty of reasons to be like you. Quit being so negative- you'll make the walls cry- and they don't even have eyes."

Letting go of your hand, Gojo grabbed your clothes and unceremoniously tossed them onto your face, "Hurry, hurry, or I'll eat all of the breakfast. Hm? Breakfast... Oh no, the breakfast!"

Sensing your father quickly disappear, you only manage to frown when the fire alarms began going off seconds later. Looks like he burnt breakfast... Again...

After you got dressed, brushed your teeth and headed down the hallway, you grimaced at the stench of burnt eggs. Goodness, what a silly father you had, but you loved him. Coming to a stop at the table where you sensed he was sitting at, you timidly held out a single band of cloth.

"Oh? What's this?" Gojo asked nonchalantly, pretending not to be embarrassed about, yet again, burning breakfast, "A scarf?"

"I... I thought that maybe... S-since I'm blind, maybe I could wear something like what you wear to cover your eyes. Then that way..." You frowned, tilting your nose down at the ground, "That way they won't know I'm blind. They'll think I'm strong, like you."

If your words could be knives, then they would have just sliced right through his chest. Still though, he managed to maintain his optimistic, calm persona, "What? You wanna lie to your new friends? Well that's not very nice. Their hearts would be broken in seconds."

"But..." You whimpered.

"Listen, (y/n)," Gojo reached out to grasp your shoulder, squeezing it gently, "You're not like me. You will never be anything like me. Why- you may ask? Because you're already a million times better."

You sniffled, leaning in to hug him, grateful that he so greatly accepted and loved you no matter how flawed you were, "I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, little angel who is stronger and cooler and- while I hate to admit it- better looking than me," Gojo teased, your laughter his haven that he could live in forever.

He loves you, (y/n), remember that.

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Yami Sukehiro

Yami, in general, was already extremely protective of you, especially after he discovered that you would forever be blind. Now that's not to say that he didn't encourage you to push past your limits. In fact he helped you train all the time. But see, the only problem he had with you training was when you trained by yourself.

And when he found out that you had been flying around on a broom by yourself thus leading to the breaking of your arm, Yami just about tore the rooftops off buildings with his sheer rage alone.

He was in the medical ward giving Magna and Luck a good scolding until you came prattling up, your arm perfectly healed by healing-magic. "Daddy, please stop being mean to Magna and Luck," You whined, tears in your eyes as you lightly shook, "I'm sorry. It's my fault... I went outside without their permission and rode the broom... It's my fault."

The entire ward went dead silent as Yami turned all his attention to you. Considering how bad his temper could get, you were pretty brave for admitting your mistake. And the look on your face; embarrassed, frightened and sad. He knew that you were telling the truth.

"Alright then," Yami relaxed and stepped forward to take your healed hand in his, his voice calm as he said, "Think it's 'bout time you and I had a little chat."

You whimpered but otherwise said nothing the entire time your father lead you just outside the ward. You knew from how he treated others that making him angry resulted in a scary outcome, and you worried what he would do to you now that you've finally done something to upset him. You felt bad too. Sad and regretful.

Once you were outside, Yami let go of your hand and lit a cigarette, "So... Ya just thought ya could do whatever the heck ya wanted to, huh?"

You tensed, your blind eyes staring at the ground, "I did a bad thing. I'm sorry, daddy."

Yami considered you. Unlike other people who annoyed him, he had never really ever gotten mad at you. Seeing how scared you were right now was suffocating enough to make him pout. Was he really making you that uncomfortable? But... He was your father. You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Ya know, if this were me an' my dad, I woulda' already got my head beat in," Yami blew out a cloud of smoke, "Lucky for you though, I ain't him... I do wanna know one thing though- If all ya wanted to do was ride a damn broom, why didn't ya ask for help?"

You swayed back and forth, fiddling with your hands, "'Cause... You don't need help, an'..."

Ah. So you wanted to be like him. Yami closed his eyes in understanding. "Squirt, get over here an' look at me," Yami crouched down and guided your tiny hand to rest against the side of his face.

He in return cupped your face, gazing into your foggy eyes and saying, "I don't need help 'cause I'm all grown an' got full control over my mana. You're still a tiny, little sprout. Now if ya wanna train, that's fine, but 'till then, you train when someone else is around to help, ya hear?"

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling, "Yes, daddy."

"Eh? I go easy on ya an' you're still about'a cry? Talk about sensitive," Yami chuckled a bit, gently whacking your nose with his thumb.

"I-it's not you, daddy, I..." You whimpered, your body buckling up, "When I fell- i-it... It was just so scary a-and it hurt..."

Oh. Yami's face bloomed with realization. Oh... That was your first traumatic experience, huh? No wonder you were so upset. At first he thought about teasing you or making a sarcastic remark, but ultimately decided against it.

Instead he settled for wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his large chest. "It'll be alright, squirt. You're tough. You'll pull through. Everything's gonna be alright, ya hear?"

Soaking up his comforting warmth and attention, you whimpered and nodded, trying your hardest to hide in the safety of his chest. Your father was so strong and comforting. With him around, it was guaranteed that you would always be safe.

#fanfic drabble #kakashi hatake x reader #levi ackerman x reader #gojo saturo x reader #yami sukehiro x reader #child!reader #platonic #no romantic relationships #Father drabbles #blind reader #black clover #attack on titan #naruto #jujutsu kaisen

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers' as fathers with a child/reader. (Comfort drabbles for anyone like me who has daddy issues).

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

I'm a little embarrassed that I made this but I can't deny that it does comfort me and make me feel better. If it makes you happy as well, then I'm glad. Thank you for reading. I hope you have a nice day.

...

Freddy

He was sleeping in his bed when he felt something nudge his arm, the soft callings of your voice quickly rousing him from his slumber. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up."

Paternal instincts demanding that he instantly wake to check and see if you were okay, Freddy sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately the sight of you standing beside the bed in your pajamas with a sad, frightened look on your face greeted him, and he reached out to gently brush a hand through your messy hair.

"What's the matter, sweetie? Is everything okay?" He asked, gazing around for potential danger.

You whimpered, your little hands anxiously fiddling together as you say sadly, "I... I had a nightmare and I... I got scared."

Relaxing a bit, Freddy sat up all the way in bed and lifted his arms out towards you, "Oh sweetie, come here."

Stepping forward and lifting your arms, you whimper whenever your dad pulled you sideways onto his lap and held you close. He kissed the top of your head and gently patted your back. "Thought I told you not to be having those?" He mumbled.

"I know, but... It was so scary and I-I didn't like it," You whined, burying yourself into the divine safety of his chest, his scent familiar and comforting.

"Shh, shh," Freddy rubbed soothing circles against your back while hugging you securely against him, always prepared to fight all of your demons away- even if your demons were as simple as nightmares. "It's okay, sweetie. You're alright. Daddy's got ya. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Ok..." You whisper, still snuggled against him. He was so comforting and safe. "Daddy? I'm thirsty. Will you get me some juice, please?"

"You want juice?" Freddy tickled your nose causing you to giggle, "Hm?"

"And a story?" You smile at him hopefully.

"And a story? Well, aren't you spoiled," Freddy smiled back and leaned down to nuzzle your forehead, "Sure, sweetie, let's get you some juice."

Grinning at his compliance, you lean forward and give him a big hug. He hugs you back, and it feels so nice and comforting that you feel as if you could go to sleep right then and there.

Freddy holds your hand as he takes you to the kitchen to get you some juice. Then he grabs a book from a shelf and sits down in his arm chair with you sitting in his lap with your blanket and juice in clutch. He reads to you the short story as many times as you want until you've finished your beverage and declared that you were tired again.

"Can I sleep with you, daddy? Please," You ask, fidgeting in the hopes that you wouldn't have to sleep in the dark alone by yourself again tonight.

Freddy doesn't have the heart to tell you "no", so he nods and ruffles your hair, "As long as you promise not to have anymore nightmares. Promise?"

"I promise, daddy," You say happily, crawling into bed with him and immediately going to snuggle into his chest, "I love you."

Freddy kisses your head and tucks you both in with a blanket, one arm wrapping around you to hold you against him. Warm, safe, and comfortable. "Love you too, sweetie. Now get some sleep and, this time, have 'good' dreams."

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

"Hey Les, you seen (y/n) around?" Bo asked as he approached Lester's truck.

Lester gave him a look that he came to dread. "Yeah, they're on back with Vincent. Why?"

Relieved by your assured safety, Bo placed his hands on his hips and stared hard at the ground. Guilt chewed on him like a hungry wolf, and shame became a permanent dark cloud hanging all around him. "I-I messed up, Les," He admitted, shaking his head.

Lester raised his eyebrows in suspicion, "What'a ya mean?"

"Yesterday, I... I messed up," Bo huffed, dragging a rough hand through his hair, "An' now they ain't talkin' to me, and I... I just... Uh."

"Oh, so that's why the little critter wanted to spend the night," Lester chuckled and petted his dog's head fondly, "An' here I was hopin' I was the new favorite uncle. Guess I ain't, huh?"

Bo ignored him as he thought about what happened yesterday. He had been angry for reasons unrelated to you, and when you had tried to get his attention he snapped and yelled at you. Even though "what" was all he yelled, he could still tell how much he scared you and hurt your feelings. Now you wouldn't go around him. Gosh, he didn't mean to do it, he just... He was just an idiot.

Lester frowned at him as if noticing his distress, "Well hell, if it's botherin' ya to the pits then why don't ya go talk to them? You are their daddy after all, ain't ya?"

Yes. Yes he was your dad. And no child should ever have to be afraid of their dad.

Making his ultimate decision, Bo adjusted his hat and began stomping away, "Gotta go."

He found you in the house eating snacks with Vincent. When you noticed he was there, you looked at him and then quickly bowed your head like... like you were afraid of him. And it broke Bo's heart. Good grief, what had he done?

Pulsing with regret, guilt and shame, Bo slowly approached you and knelt down beside your chair, "Hey there, little critter bug. What'cha eating?"

You were hesitant, keeping your face averted as you timidly mumble, "Grapes."

"Ooh, yummy, can I have some?" He lifted his hands out, uncertain of where and when he should start explaining himself.

Sadness and uncertainty decorated your face as you lifted out the bowl to him. Vincent seemed to understand what his brother was doing, and he stood up to leave and give you some privacy.

As he ate some grapes, Bo was surprised to hear you quietly ask, "Daddy... Are... Are you still mad at me?"

"Oh..." He straightened his posture, set the bowl aside and reached out to gently grasp your shoulder, "Oh, (y/n), I was never mad at ya, I just... I was just havin' a bad day and I..."

Bo sighed, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently in reassurance, "Look, critter bug, I didn't mean to yell at ya, and I definitely ain't mad at ya. I just... Daddy made a mistake, and I'm so, so sorry, (y/n). I promise... I'll never yell at you again. I promise."

Your eyes glistened as you looked at him as if in debate. Bo's throat was dry as he waited for your reaction, the negativity and guilt nearly driving him insane.

Instead of saying anything, you spread your arms and lift them upwards. Bo sighed quietly in relief and went to scoop you into his arms, his aching chest slowly beginning to calm down. He still felt guilty for how he made you feel, and he wasn't lying when he promised that he would never ever make you feel that way again.

Michael + Aunt Laurie

You were both trick-or-treating and having a good evening on Halloween. Michael alternated between carrying you on his back, on his hip, or simply holding your hand while walking. It warmed his heart to see how happy and excited you were, your candy-bag becoming overloaded with sweet treats.

He decided to stop at Lauries for a quick break and some refreshment. You ran back out while he was still inside. It only felt like a minute before he followed your footsteps and soon came to a scene that made his blood boil and his eyes widen.

You were laying on your back against the sidewalk, small, frightened cries spilling from your lips. In the direction you were staring, Michael caught a glimpse of a group of teenagers quickly running away. They must have done something to you. But what?

"D-daddy," You cried as he quickly walked over to you, and you skittered to get to your feet.

Michael barely got to check you over for damage before you were wrapping your arms around his waist and crying into his belly. "They pushed me and stole my candy," You whined loudly against him, "I-I just wanted to be friends, b-b-but they stole my candy. Ehh, daddy, daddy, what do I do? They stole my candy."

Anger invaded every nerve within Michael's body as he held you close protectively. How dare anyone treat you this way. How could they? You were the nicest, sweetest little angel. What was their problem? Michael's eyes burned with the memory of those teenage scum and the direction they fled.

Hearing your loud sniffles, Michael gently coaxed you back and knelt down. Slipping off his mask, he reached out, cupped your cheek and used his jumpsuit sleeve to wipe away your tears and snot. Then he used sign-language to ask if you were okay.

You nodded and cried in great sadness, "But they stole my candy. Wh-why did they do that, daddy? I-I just wanted to be friends."

Michael quickly explained to you how those teenagers were obviously bullies. This same experience happened to him too when he was your age. Everything was going to be alright. They would get you more candy. Calm down. Everything was going to be alright.

Slowly you began to calm down, your sobs and whines diminishing. Michael pulled you into his arms and hauled you against his hip so that he could take you into the house. You stayed attached to him the whole time, and he refused to let you go. Frustration still burned inside him, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect and comfort you/his child.

Laurie was there to save the day, thankfully, offering you all of the candy she hadn't yet given out and putting on a fun movie for you to watch.

You were snuggled up against your dad on the couch, your mood significantly eased as he rubbed your head and back and offered you pieces of candy. For the most part you forgot about the incident, but Michael certainly hadn't.

Let's just say that, by tomorrow, you would have your stolen candy back.

Hannibal

He had taken a leave of absence from work so that he could better take care of you while you were sick. It wasn't anything serious; just a small cold. The nurse from your school had sent you home earlier due to a sore throat and a fever. Hannibal had rushed to get you as quickly as he could.

Once he got you home, he had you take a bath and get dressed into your pajamas. You complained of throat and stomach pain, and you had irritated sinuses. He gave you some medication and told you to lie down while he made you some special soup that would soothe your tummy.

As he was cooking, he heard your tiny footsteps echoing from the hallway, and he turned to see your sleepy figure approaching, "Daddy?"

"Yes, my child, what is it?" He asked, setting his cutting knife aside.

"My tummy hurts so bad," You pouted, your voice beginning to sound scratchy, "And I don't feel good. I wanna be with you."

Hannibal grabbed a kleenex from the counter and knelt down to gently clean your messy nose, "I know. And that is precisely why you should be sleeping."

"But I can't sleep," You whimper, looking at him with sad, tired owl eyes, "I wanna be with you. Please, daddy? Let me stay with you."

Hannibal tilted his head at you, his brows lifting in debate. While he would rather you be getting some decent rest, he knew that you were young and still filled with energy even whilst you were sick. He didn't have much left to do cooking wise either, so he figured that having you stay around wouldn't harm anything.

"Alright then," Hannibal leaned forward and picked you up, swiftly positioning you on his hip and supporting you with one arm so that he could use the other to cook with.

You held onto his neck while resting your head against his shoulder, your eyes mostly shut as you listened to the sound of his heart beat. Safety and warmth enveloped you making you feel much, much better than what you had before. Your dad was always so cozy and comforting.

Hannibal was able to finish cooking dinner with you on his hip the entire time. Once it was time to eat, he set you down on a chair and made you a drink and a bowl of soup. You ate quietly which worried him a little, but he knew it was just because you weren't feeling good.

"Feeling better?" He asked when you were finished.

You smiled and nodded at him, "Mhm, it was real yummy. Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, my child," He reached out and gently squeezed your cheek before taking your bowl and cleaning it, "I don't suppose telling you to get back in bed will do any good, will it?"

Your pitiful whimper was enough of an answer. Hannibal chuckled, dried his hands and went to pick you up again, holding you close as he carried you to the living room. "A movie it is then."

"Can Will come over?" You asked, grinning.

Hannibal gave you a look, "I'm beginning to believe that you're not sick at all."

...

All good fathers' should fight their child's nightmares away, not be the reason why they have them.

#slashers #slasher fanfiction #reader insert #child reader #Platonic love only #Not romantic #bo sinclair x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #freddy krueger x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #Father & child relationship #michael myers x reader #Slashers as dads #Comfort drabbles

[heich0e]

"you know that's not how it works, right?"

atsumu and osamu's heads both snap up from where they're stooping over a paper schematic laid out before them, sitting cross-legged amidst a debris field of cardboard, styrofoam, and various wooden parts.

the sun streams in through the open window on the other side of the room, and little motes of dust that have been stirred up through the afternoon's excitement are caught in the light as they twist and spin through the air, fluttering slowly towards the ground. the breeze that slips in through the window is cool but refreshing, the smell of spring carried in on the edge of every wisp of air. you take a deep breath to savour it.

"whaddya mean?" atsumu asks, his brows—so much darker than the peroxide blonde of his hair, and the contrast even more stark since he's seated right in the sunlight that makes his hair practically glow—pinching together in the centre and expressing his confusion. osamu doesn't say anything, but his own expression is equally perplexed as he sits beside his noisy brother.

you laugh, taking a sip from your glass of water as you lean against the doorway.

"i said that's not how it works."

osamu's grey eyes flicker back down to the instruction manual in front of him, his lips pursing thoughtfully as he mulls over your comment.

you sigh, a little smile tugging at your lips. "samu, i'm not talking about the crib."

both brothers look up at you once more, now thoroughly confused by your interruption and wearing nearly identical expressions which convey that sentiment. you set your cup of cool water down on the chest of drawers just inside the doorway: an old wooden hand-me-down from their mother, who insisted you take it for the nursery and give it a second life in a new miya household. you pad into the room, approaching them both slowly as you carefully avoid the various pieces of disassembled crib that litter the floor, and crouch down to sit between them.

atsumu sees the way you struggle on your descent, still not quite used to the bump that has swollen at your waist and grows with every passing day, and he quickly reaches up to help you settle in between the two of them. you murmur quiet thanks, squeezing the blonde's hand with your own before you pull away.

once you've finally made yourself comfortable on the nursery floor, you huff. "what i meant was that's not how twins work."

you'd caught the tail end of the brothers' conversation as you passed by the doorway to the nursery—a casual but enthusiastic debate on whether or not you should be expecting one baby or two.

"yer gonna explain twins to us?" tsumu guffaws in the wake of your words, looking to his brother for solidarity in his indignation. samu's eyes instead flicker down to the bump of your stomach where your hand is resting.

"we're kinda the experts in the room y'know," osamu teases you, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. you roll your eyes.

"experts?" you parrot back incredulously. "says the guy who barely passed biology, and the one who's forgotten everything about high school other than volleyball scores and school lunch menus."

you point to atsumu and osamu respectively as you make your remarks.

"hey!" atsumu whines.

"i remember other stuff too," samu laughs a bit as he reaches up and ruffles the dark hair at the nape of his neck. you cock a brow as you lean in towards him.

"oh, yeah?" you challenge his assertion. "like what?"

"cute girls," osamu says as he turns his attention back to the assembly instructions on the floor before him, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips. you resist the urge to swat at the back of his head.

behind you, since you've turned your body to face his brother, atsumu pitches forward and hooks his chin over your shoulder.

"so, what was that about anyway? the twin thing?" he asks, muttering in a way that tells you he's got a pout on his lips even if you can't see it.

you lean back into atsumu slightly, watching as osamu picks up a piece of crib and turns it over in his hands to survey it, comparing it to the complicated illustration in the instruction manual.

"even though you two look so much alike, you're fraternal," you say, tilting your head to peek up at him through your lashes. "and your mom's mom was a fraternal twin too."

atsumu hums. you've not told him anything he doesn't already know. "s'genetic!"

"it is," you agree, running a hand over your stomach absentmindedly. "but the gene that makes you more likely to have twins has to do with ovulation. which means it has to affect the mother—and i have no twins in my family."

atsumu sucks in a sharp little breath that you can't help but think sounds a bit disappointed. osamu pauses in his instruction surveillance.

"besides," you remark, peeling yourself up from against atsumu's chest, "we already heard the baby's heartbeat, and there was definitely only one in there."

osamu looks over at you, pointing the mystery piece of crib in your direction. "our ma said the same thing, and still ended up with the two of us. careful whatcha say."

"she says i hid my heartbeat 'til the second trimester!" atsumu agrees with his brother, supporting his argument in a distinctly proud way—a wide grin stretching across his face.

"troublesome from the very beginning, huh?" you tease him, and he reaches up to pinch your cheek playfully in response.

"what about identical twins then?" osamu asks. "they genetic too?"

"no," you shake your head, atsumu's fingers still lightly holding the fat of your cheek and making your words come out a little funny. "they'a fweeks o'naytchor."

atsumu laughs, letting his grip on your face go. "freaks of nature?"

you rub at your stinging cheek with your fingers, glaring at him resentfully. "there's no real reason why identical twins happen. they shouldn't happen, by all accounts. but for one reason or another the fertilized egg decides it's going to split and basically clone itself even though it's not supposed to. that's weird."

"so, who has identical twins?" osamu asks, reaching up and running his thumb over the red mark his brother left on your poor cheek.

you purse your lips as you consider his question. "well... anyone could, i guess. in theory. there's no real rhyme or reason to it."

atsumu and osamu's eyes lock over your shoulder, and you can't help but noticed the look they share between them. the one that makes you want to groan aloud.

the one that clearly reads of hope.

#LOL sorry u guys can figure out who the father is bc the poll was split right down the middle #btw true confessions this is actually how i feel about identical twins..... that's just not right #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing #tw pregnancy #tw parenthood

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

i want him to teach me everything he knows; to tell me all his stories and experiences he's ever had, even the most unnecessary and pointless ones.

#whoever said i need a father figure #youre right #but daryls all i need so... #im actually delusional #daryl dixon #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x you

[dixonsemoboy]

daryl's sweet little boy 🧸

Daryl woke up to the sound of clinking in the bathroom. It was early in the morning, the sun just starting to rise and shine through the curtains. Nobody was usually up this early.

He shuffled out of bed with a grunt and sauntered to the bathroom, placing his hand on the cold metal knob, twisting it open. There he found his 'girl', face scrunched up, tears running down her chubby baby cheeks, clippers in her hand. Her hair was clumpy and shorter, pieces of it on the floor from where she attempted to cut it.

"Whatcha' doin?" he said out loud, pulling his girl closer by the shoulder, using his thumb to wipe the tears from her eyes.

She sniffled, trying to speak through her tears. "Dada, I don' wanna be a girl," she whimpered, clinging onto Daryl like her life depended on it.

Daryl hummed deeply, pulling him into his chest, stroking his hair to calm him. There was a long string of silence before he spoke. "Here, gimme tha', baby."

He took his face out of Daryl's chest with a sniffle and handed him the clippers, still on and vibrating in his hand.

Daryl took him by his forearm and gently pulled him further into the bathroom, so the mirror was in front of them.

"Stay still, 'kay?" he uttered, putting the clippers up to his boy's hair and starting to shave, chunks of it falling to the tile ground, each stroke making the once nonexistent joy grow bigger in his boy's heart.

Daryl switched the clippers off, the buzzing sound that once fulfilled the room coming to an end. The tears on his boy's face were dry by now, a big smile spread across his baby face.

Daryl smiled back, looking into the mirror and running a hand through his now short hair. "Ya like it?"

"Mhm!"

"Thought ya would, sweet boy."

He was Daryl's boy, and Daryl's boy forever.

inspo: @norman-fucking-reedus

it changes from she to he because you know TRANS, just incase your confused

#i need him as a father figure #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x ftm reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x male reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon drabble #moodboard #dixonsemoboy

[number1mingyustan]

Can I request please Father’s Day featuring Mingyu? 🥰

dad!mingyu who's so nervous on his first father's day because he still can't fathom the fact that he's a dad

dad!mingyu who realizes he loves being spoiled on father's day when you wake him up with breakfast and a blowjob and devote all your attention to him during the day

dad!mingyu who almost cries when he comes downstairs to see his infant baby girl dressed in a 'daddy's girl' t-shirt

dad!mingyu who is already plotting for father's day traditions even though it's only his first one

dad!mingyu who sits at his phone smiling at all his happy father's day texts from friends and family

dad!mingyu who also sits at his phone smiling at thirst trap edits referring to him as a dilf

dad!mingyu who spends his entire father's day being showered with love by his favorite baby girls

dad!mingyu who takes lots and lots of pictures on his first father's day

dad!mingyu who also swears your next kid will be a boy (spoiler alert: he's wrong)

dad!mingyu who sings his daughter to sleep before joining you in bed

dad!mingyu who insists on fucking another baby into you because he loves father's day so much

dad!mingyu who actually has a breeding kink and fucks you all night and refuses to let you ride him to make sure you don't waste a single drop of his cum so he can get your pregnant again

dad!mingyu who has to cover your mouth while he pounds you all night to avoid waking up your kid

dad!mingyu who still prioritizes your pleasure on his day and makes you cum until you almost pass out

dad!mingyu who loses count of how many times he's cum inside of you because he's so lost in the pleasure

dad!mingyu who can't wait until father's day next year

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

#seventeen smut #seventeen #mingyu smut #seventeen mingyu #seventee #seventeen drabbles #mingyu drabbles #father’s day #kpop

[heartpascal]

Re: drabbles, my favorite stories are I’ll be brave, so far from it, and all my faith but I don’t have any scenarios off the top of my head 🤨 a drabble à la the crooked kind would be so fun to read!!

but honestly anything and everything you put out, I will read. I eat it up every time.

▹— pre-outbreak!joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: drabble from the crooked kind universe! • the time joel realised what your home life is like.

▹— a/n: my first ever drabble pls go easy on me D: (also if you have any situations you’d like written for this universe or others just send in a request!)

▹— warnings: abusive & neglectful family, almost father figure joel, sarah is your best friend, mention of argument with parents

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Perhaps, he thinks now, Joel should have been suspicious of what you and Sarah had been hiding the third time you were sleeping over during the week. After all, most parents had a no-school-nights rule, and you were always quite skittish around him when he asked you questions. You also never responded well to him asking to speak to your parents, insisting that he didn’t.

But in his defence, he didn’t have a no-school-nights rule, so he figured that maybe, your parents didn’t either. It wasn’t a terrible assumption to make, although he’d given up on speaking to your parents pretty easily.

You and Sarah always got up on time for school, and you didn’t cause much trouble. Besides stocking up on some of your preferred snacks, you hadn’t had much of an impact on the Miller household, you actually blended in so well that it was like you were always there.

It was on the now sixth time of you staying at the Miller residence during the week that Joel was really starting to get suspicious. Over the course of the past three weeks, you had spent days and nights at his and Sarah’s, without so much of a word from your parents. Joel knew that he wouldn’t be all too happy if his daughter was out of the house for so long, but what could he do? Hell, even Sarah got defensive over him trying to talk about your parents.

The seventh time, he couldn’t keep quiet.

“Hey, kids?” He called up the stairs, having seen your shoes stored away neatly by the door. It was usually around dinner that Sarah begged for you to be allowed to stay the night, and that time was fast approaching. Joel figured it was best to nip this in the bud.

“What is it, dad?” Sarah yelled back, and Joel rolled his eyes at the attitude she was already showing. He resisted the urge to do that annoying parent thing, where they just didn’t answer your reply after they yelled you first.

“Come on down here, the both of you!” He responded after a moment of hesitation, hearing the vague sound of the two of you sharing hushed whispers. Joel moved on into the living room when he heard the steps coming down the hallway, the two of you finally descending the stairs when he had taken a seat on the sofa.

Sarah looked nervous, though you looked far more so, with trembling hands that you wrapped tightly around the straps of your backpack, already worn on your back. “Dad?” Sarah asked, after he hadn’t spoken for more than a moment of the two girls standing in the room.

Joel sighed, nodding his head to the couch and waiting for you both to sit down before he spoke again. “Listen, I think we need to have a talk.” He began, frowning when Sarah immediately cut him off from saying anything else.

“Dad, are you being serious?” She asked, eyes wide and defensive, and her sudden alarm wasn’t improving your nerves, either, and you were looking more anxious by the second. The last thing you wanted was for Sarah to get into trouble for you. “You’re being unreasonable! She needs to stay over here—”

Joel decided to play at Sarah’s own game, holding a stern look on his face as he cut her off. “Sarah, that’s enough. I ain’t said a word, just yet, calm yourself down.” He told her, not liking the frown she held on her expression. Joel turned his gaze to you, softening his expression when you shrunk under his gaze. “Now you two listen to me, alright? I don’t mind you stayin’ here. Can stay as many nights as you please, but god, kiddo, are your parents really alright with that?”

Sarah moved as if she was going to jump in, save you from speaking, but Joel fixed her with the strict dad-look, and she sat back, looking towards you with an apologetic gaze.

“Yeah, they’re—they don’t mind it, one bit. But I can go back, I don’t mean to be overstayin’ my welcome.” You rambled on, giving Sarah an urgent look as she opened her mouth to oppose your words, causing her to move her glare over to her dad.

“And the reason you have to stay here?” Joel asked after a moment, almost hesitantly. But if there was something more going on, he had to know about it. He was the parent here, and it was his job to look after the people under his roof.

You practically withered under the combination of his look and his question, clutching your bag straps tightly, like you were ready to head off with a moment’s notice.

“It’s nothin’, Mr. Miller, we just like hangin’ over here. Your place is much nicer than mine, right Sarah?” You looked to her pleadingly, and Joel’s suspicion only grew when Sarah nodded painfully quickly, confirming your words.

He didn’t believe you, not for a second, but decided to let the two of you off the hook.

It was the eighth time that Joel knew.

He felt sick to his stomach for not picking up on it before, for not actively trying to find out what was wrong when he knew something wasn’t quite right. For a moment, he also became angry with his own daughter, for not telling him.

The incessant knocking on the door came late that night, and given it was close to 9PM and dark out, Joel wondered who the hell would be coming to his house. It couldn’t have been Tommy — he would never knock, so Joel truly had no idea.

When he opened the door, he certainly didn’t expect to be met with you, backpack slung over your shoulders, your eyes squinting through the rain that was coming down heavy.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You greeted, shakily, and he didn’t miss the tremor in your tone as he ushered you inside out of the cold rain. You tried not to look too nervous under his scrutiny, tried to remain brave and nonchalant as he closed the door after you. “I’m really sorry, but could I stay over here tonight?” You asked him then, and Joel could’ve sworn he heard his own heart break at your voice.

“Jesus Christ,” He said, eyes wide as he took you in, soaked to the bone, your eyes shining with something that wasn’t from the weather. “Of course you can, kiddo, c’mon, let’s get you dried off.”

Whilst you took your shoes off, aiming not to traipse wet footsteps all throughout their house, Joel shouted up to Sarah to bring some towels. She didn’t hesitate given the urgency in his tone.

“What happened?” Sarah asked desperately as Joel took the towels from her hands to wrap them around you as you shivered, turning to look at Sarah with a nervous smile.

Joel didn’t miss the way you nervously looked in his direction, and busied himself taking the school bag from your hand and placing it down in the hallway. “Just got into a fight with my parents, ‘s’all.” You said, clearly downplaying whatever had gone on in your household. Joel’s attention was caught, that was for certain, and now he regretted every letting you go back to your own house, especially when you so often looked reluctant to leave.

Sarah looked towards Joel, much like you had, before she turned back to you, where you held the towel around your shoulders tighter. “Was it about you stayin’ over?”

You shook your head. “No, didn’t make my bed this morning.” You told her, not seeing the way Joel’s face fell. He couldn’t imagine telling Sarah off for something so badly that she left home late evening, in the pouring rain, let alone over an unmade bed.

“Kiddo,” Joel sighed, placing a hand against your shoulder, a look of slight anguish on his expression. “The two of you should’ve told me what was really goin’ on. You could’ve stayed as long as you liked.”

You frowned, your eyes still teary as you looked at your best friend’s dad, “Didn’t wanna keep botherin’ you.”

“You’re not a bother,” He said firmly, “Now c’mon, let’s get you into some dry clothes. You eaten?” At the shake of your head, his frown deepened further, but he nodded. “Then we’ll get you some food, alright?”

He let Sarah take you upstairs, off to borrow some spare clothes, and he cooked whilst you changed, just hearing the faint sounds of your quiet conversation with Sarah. He felt bad, not being the greatest cook, but he figured even shitty pre-packaged macaroni cheese would be alright with you. In fact, he often found that when you and Sarah had sleepovers, his supply of mac n’ cheese depleted.

You sat on the couch when Joel brought you a bowl of macaroni cheese, something unsettled in your eyes, but you smiled faintly at him.

“Now, you listen to me, alright? Anythin’ happens, and I mean anything, you can come here. Don’t even need to ask.” He said to you firmly, pretending he didn’t see the wobble to your lip that you hid behind your bowl.

“Thanks, dad.” Sarah said softly, responding for you, because she knew you better than you knew yourself. She sat between you and her dad, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“‘Course. But hey, if you’re gonna be stayin’ more often, you drink coffee in the morning?” Joel asked, bringing some lightness back to the conversation, his chosen topic coaxing a snicker from you as Sarah groaned, sick of her dad’s coffee addiction.

“That stuff’s gonna give you a heart attack, you know.” She said matter-of-factly, raising her eyebrows at her dad.

“Milk and two sugars,” You responded, the tremble in your voice replaced with a tinge of amusement, and Joel laughed with you at the sigh of annoyance Sarah let out.

— taglist: @auggiesolovey, @just-kaylaa, @evyiione, @lemonlaides, @fariylixie0915, @erensloveinterest, @dazedshoon, @faceache111, @randomhoex, @canpillowscry, @sleepygraves, @pedropascalsrealgf, @star-wars-lover, @coolchick333, @soobsdior, @ilybbg, @rvjaa

please let me know if you want your tag added/removed !!!

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller x reader #joel miller platonic #father figure joel miller #sarah miller tlou #joel miller drabble #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #heartpascal drabbles

[brionbroadway]

It’s Ylfa who finds him.

She sits beside Gerard, hands in front of her on the floor, back in her wolf-form and back to herself. “Where is the Princess Elody?” she asks.

Gerard sighs, but sensing Ylfa flinch beside him, he tries to cover it by clearing his throat. “She needed a moment to herself.”

“But just a moment, right? She’s coming back?”

Gerard shifts his head to look at Ylfa, and notices the shift in her as well. She is no longer a meddling preteen, ready to give him a makeover and plan a grand gesture based on a limited understanding of love. In fact, Gerard wonders if that was ever a fair assessment. Ylfa knows love, perhaps better than Gerard ever has, and understands the power of its loss. He sees the same thing in her eyes that he saw in Elody’s when she spoke of finding his body—not sadness, exactly, but an emptiness that a preteen should still be too optimistic to feel.

“It’s not fair, Gerard,” she says, quiet, and Gerard realizes too late that he was too slow to respond. “No one came looking for you, but you went looking for Elody, and you’re still going to be alone. I can fight Death for you, but I can’t fight this.”

“First of all,” Gerard says, speaking faster than his thoughts to not give Ylfa’s the chance to fill in the blanks. “I am not alone. I would not choose anyone else to travel and fight alongside—though, you need to know that you are not responsible for fighting anything for me. You are a protector, much like Elody.”

“I’m like the princess?”

“Most certainly, and while that’s admirable, it’s also too much weight to put on your shoulders. Strong as they are.”

Ylfa flexes, and Gerard laughs, relieved. “The truth is,” he continues. “I left Elody long before she left me. We’d sit together the way you and I are sitting now, but we would not talk the way we’re talking now. And that was my fault.”

“But she’s still your family,” Ylfa says. “You just made a mistake.”

Gerard understands what’s behind this conversation now, and wishes he’d recognized it the moment Ylfa sat down. Elody would have. “When you marry someone,” Gerard says. “You make vows to each other; it’s a partnership. I didn’t make a mistake; I made decisions that broke the promises I’d made to Elody. That is my fault.”

“When you have a child,” Gerard continues, before Ylfa can interrupt. “Of course, I have not had one, but as I understand it—you make a commitment to them. You love them unconditionally, no matter what mistakes or decisions they make. If a parent does not fulfill that, that is not the child’s fault.”

“Gerard, I’m sorry if this is disrespectful, but I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Honestly Red, I don’t know if I do either. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Not for the first time, Gerard is aware of his role as an adult, despite not having the chance to properly grow into one. “Or,” he says. “How about this? I know that I am not your mother or father, or your grandmother, but as long as I am alive, I promise that we can sit and talk like this. And if we end up in different stories, I’ll look for you. You will always have a home with me, even if it’s just a bonfire in the woods.”

“I can light a match for us.”

“I know that you can.”

Gerard extends his webbed equivalent of a pinky finger, and Ylfa wraps a claw around it.

#d20 #dimension 20 #neverafter #prince gerard of greenleigh #ylfa snorgelsson #d20 fic #drabbles #dropout tv #prince gerard #brian murphy #emily axford #awkward father figure gerard is important to me

[amusingmusie]

I know it's not going to happen but what do you think a child between Nel & Alastor would be like? Personality wise or appearance

History Repeats Itself

This is goddamn ridiculous.

Heels click against shiny vinyl flooring as Nel tears off down the hallway, speeding past flyers promoting honors ceremonies and painted murals of happy children. Pushing open door after door and stomping hard enough to make her knees shake, she does nothing to hide her rage over such a bullshit situation. Her fingers twitch with the need for a goddamned cigarette, but she doesn’t trust herself to not light this private school aflame with it. Oh no, she’s not chancing that, not when she’d ruin the career she fought to earn and the schooling she pays out the ass for in one fell swoop. 

Her warpath only halts when she reaches a thick wooden door simply labeled as Dean’s Office. It’s becoming increasingly familiar as of late. With a barely contained growl, she knocks the door open, steps into the room, and prepares for battle.

“She is evil!”

“That’s a strong word. I prefer the term strong-willed instead.”

“Shut it! You’re a malignant tumor on this school!!!”

“Wow, that was a good one. You’re improving your vocabulary, congratulations!”

“DEVIL!”

“You know, anything you say can be held against you in court, I’d mind your words if I were you.”

“WE ARE NOT IN COURT!!!!!”

Nel watches a teenage girl hiss and spit pure venom with all the rage of a feral creature. Her dark eyes are blazing with unfiltered fury, something Nel herself recognizes all too well. There’s no need to ask what has her raging- oh no, Nel is aware of the issue, she sure fucking knows exactly who is responsible for this mess. 

Turning on her heels, Nel stares down the little shit sitting primly in a chair by the flabbergasted dean. Not a curly hair is out of her place on her head, with each chocolate strand pinned neatly back with a stylish bow. Quickly, she gives a small pat to her immaculate bumper bang like she’s brushing away some invisible dust that could possibly disrupt her picture-perfect image. 

She’s a doll with smooth caramel skin and large hazel eyes. 

She’s adorable with pearly white teeth and freckles dotted across her cheeks. 

She’s precious with her long, poofy skirt and long, poofy hair.

She’s perfect.

Except, her mother knows better. Oh, does she ever know better. 

“Sweet Christ,” Nel sighs with something that isn’t quite disappointment, but certainly isn’t glee. Nobody has breathed a word of what events called her down to the private school, again, but she’s certain that her spawn is somehow responsible because she is always responsible when chaos occurs. “Evie. What in the hell is going on here?”

“Momma, there you are!” Bouncing out of her seat, Evie skips over to her mother without a care in the world. She doesn’t bat an eye at her classmate glaring daggers at her or the dean blinking in exasperation since she’s too busy sidling up to her revered birth-giver. “Listen, this is all a big, silly mix-up. I’m completely innocent-”

“Lies-!”

“It was Roxxy who dumped the paint on her own bag to frame me-”

“NO, I DID NOT-!”

“Because why would I ever do such a terrible thing?” Looking for backup, she moves her gaze to the dean, who simply nods his head in slight agreement. “I would never jeopardize my perfect record with the threat of a conduct mark, and for what? To upset my good friend Roxxane with a ridiculous prank?”

“We are not friends!” the other teen growls, her skin turning an intense shade of crimson from the wrath boiling in her bones.

“You’re right, we’re best friends! Thank you for reminding me,” Evie chirps, her toothy smile growing wider.

Nel swats away unfortunate flashbacks that threaten to overtake the moment. 

“Okay, kid, put a pin in it. Just, God, come on, we’re leaving, now. Go.” Once her daughter departs from the room with a final wave to her so-called friend, Nel stares at the dean. “Stop calling me for this bullshit. I pay this school too goddamn much money to run up here each time there’s an issue with these two- next time, deal with it.”

The door slams shut behind her, and she marches on. 

Leather pumps and leather oxfords click together in time down the hallway. 

“What on God’s green earth possessed you to do that?” Nel scoffs, not pausing her march to freedom for a moment. It hardly matters since her kid already has at least an inch on her, because of course she does, her legs are more than long enough to keep up with the redhead’s shorter stomps. “Dumping paint on someone’s bag? Shit, did you just forget any home training I gave you?”

“Momma!” Evie gasps in offense, her round eyes going wide. “You don’t believe in my innocence?”

“No.”

“Okay, fair enough.” Just like that, the act drops and she shrugs, clicking her shiny saddle shoes on the floor. “But I didn’t do it for fun. Well, maybe I did, but she also deserved it.”

“You cannot continue to terrorize that girl. This is the third time that there’s been an incident in the past five weeks. Every time you get yourself into a mess, I gotta hightail it up here to drag you home, and that’s time I lose with my clients, and that’s money I lose to spend on you. You think it reflects positively on me when I’m unable to run my firm because I’m wrangling my daughter?”

“I know, but-“

“Genevieve Marie Sheridan-“

“You don’t understand!”

“Then enlighten me.” 

“She’s terrible!” Uncharacteristic irritation crosses over Evie’s sharp facial features, contorting them into a disgruntled expression eerily similar to the one worn by the ginger walking next to her. “I’m telling you, I have never met someone so absolutely dull and unpleasant in all my life! Sure, I’ve only been alive for fourteen years, but I’ve had a worldly fourteen years!”

“Oh, really now?”

“Momma, forget the details! What I’m trying to explain to you is that she is awful, so I’m attempting to help her become less awful with some harmless fun.”

A familiar feeling creeps along Nel’s skin. It’s a distant feeling, one she hasn’t felt in nearly fifteen years, but it’s one she can never forget, not ever. It’ll haunt her til the day she dies, and long after that too. 

Cold realization begins to dawn on her.

“...What makes this girl so bad?”

“What doesn’t?” the teen snips, rolling her eyes. “She always has to argue with me or oppose me, she can never just listen to anything I say! I don’t understand. Everyone else loves me- as they should, I’m amazing.”

“Mhm.”

“But not her! Never her. She’s been against me since we moved here, what, seven years ago? All because everyone adores me due to my benevolent nature and because she’s an envious ball of rage with no friends.”

“Mhm.”

“And I always think of how repulsive she is, especially at the worst times! Did you know that I dreamed of her nasty little face the other night? She’s a true nightmare at this point. I can’t escape her even in my sleep.”

“I bet.”

“So, in conclusion, she is my number one enemy, and I will destroy her.” Evie raises her upturned nose into the air with a slight huff. “In completely legal ways, of course. Such as kindness. And a few ink bombs too.”

There it is. 

Pausing at the front of the school, Nel faces the little turd fully, her initial anger fading. Hell, she can never stay mad at the kid for long; that’s her baby, no matter how tall she grows or how ruthless she becomes. 

When Evie returns her mother’s softening gaze with a kind one of her own, Nel swallows down an old sadness that’s taken root inside of her. It’s been there for years, always hovering like a ghost in the background, always lingering no matter how long she ignores it. But, its presence isn’t so heavy with her kid here, even if she wears a dead man’s face and speaks in his same chipper tone. 

It would be just like Alastor to have a child so eerily like himself. He could never quit the game; he’d always leave some version of himself behind to plague Nel. 

Fitting. He always had to have the last laugh.

“You know, I know a thing or two about having an enemy.”

“Oh, like the DA?”

“No, not that son of a bitch, though he’s worthless,” she grumbles. “No, I had someone else I swore to destroy a long time ago.”

“Well, did you?” she asks, and Nel gives her a strained, tired smile. 

“Yes and no. That’s a story for another day. For now, all I’ll tell you is that you need to be careful, and that maybe you should spend some time using that big brain to decide what you really think of this nemesis of yours.”

“Well, I hate her. I don't need to think about that.”

Nel rolls her eyes. “No doubt, but hate can sometimes…ah, fuck it, I’ll save it.” With a shake of her head, she waves away her words. “You’ll figure it out, baby. Now come on, we’re getting the hell out of here. Goddamn ridiculous school.”

“Yes ma’am!” Evie skips along happily next to Nel, contagious cheer radiating off of her. “We need to go anyway. I’d like to be at least down the block before the dye bomb I placed in Roxxy’s locker detonates.”

“...The what?”

There’s a distant pop, and then a muffled scream from deep inside of the school building.

Evie blinks innocently, and then Nel sighs. 

History always repeats itself. 

#I really hope you like Evie because she's existed in my brain for almost as long as I've been writing Yours Truly #I don't feel like this drabble did her true justice either #she is the little shit of all time #also I couldn't resist making her enemy have an “ox” name whoopsie #she's unfortunately very similar to her father #Nel's genetics got bodied #evil lesbian child #don't argue with her you won't win and you'll wake up without a liver

[darkbluekies]

If you don't mind me asking who is Dr kry's favorite child because in your recent post about Dr kry it shows the doctor kry has favoritism but I don't really get it so can you explain a little bit more? Like who's the favorite child I don't really know...

It is Lydia! She is the more obedient one, and we know how much Dr Kry likes obedience.

Nadia is a bit more free thinking and protective (which you can see by her standing in front of Lydia at the hospital etc) and daring. Dr Kry feels like he has a harder time controlling her because she's the more rebellious one.

I think Lydia has more of a "proving" personality. She sees the love their mother gets, so she wants to prove herself to Kry so that he will love her too, which is why she is spending time with her father more than Nadia. Lydia always sits down in the front seat with him, asks him questions and whatnot, which is why he doesn't suspect anything when she asks him to give her a check up (when Nadia goes to investigate their mother). Nadia is more drawn to love and comfort, which Y/N gives.

This is not confirmed, but it is hinted at: Lydia reminds him of Y/N. When they're at the hospital and he is treating her, she reminds him of Y/N with how she speaks and what she says. So I think that it might not be the first time Lydia reminds him of his darling, only that this time it really hit him.

Although they are identical twins with a quite isolated upbringing, they have their own little quirks that separate them<3

#yandere x reader #yandere doctor #yandere father #yandere ocs #yandere drabbles #the younger generation

[aetherdecember]

Look, I love BBC Merlin and how they told the lore, but I’m a sucker for the relationship between Arthur and Mordred in the mythology. Specifically, I love how Mary Stewart (author of The Arthurian Saga**) and Nancy Springer (author of I Am Mordred**) wrote about the father/son relationship between them. So naturally, my brain has been conjuring up how I can include that in my Flipping the Coin au.

Since the main premise is Merlin died/Arthur lives, and now Arthur is the one waiting for Merlin to come back, things would stay consistent with canon up to the last episode (when Merlin flips the coin of their destiny and sacrifices himself so Arthur can live and thus stop Camlann from happening altogether). Which is where this idea will start:

Gwen is barren. She and Arthur never have kids. Eventually, everyone Arthur knows and loves dies. He can’t rule Camelot forever, and after Gwen’s death, he no longer wants to, so he fakes his death and wanders off figure out why he’s still here. He never gets an answer for that. Arthur spends the next millennium waiting. He keeps living. He meets people, experiences things he’d never experienced before, and learns things he’d never dreamed of learning. He can’t stay anywhere long, or else suspicions will rise, but he gets to see the world change, how technology advances, and witness humans continuing to be humans. When war breaks out, he joins the battle. It’s familiar. The rush of adrenaline is the same whether he’s wielding a sword or a gun. Only, he can’t see the enemy’s face anymore.

Peace comes again. At some point, he sleeps with a woman, and she happens to become pregnant. Bisexual disaster that he is, he’s had all sorts of partners from both sexes, but has never had this happen, even before the advent of reliable birth control. Later, he’ll learn her name is Morgause. She doesn’t look like the Morgause he knew before, nor does she act like her, but her name haunts him. After the baby is born, she gives him to Arthur, says she has no intentions of being a mother, and leaves. The last thing she had said to him was the baby’s name.

Mordred.

That night, Arthur holds Mordred and weeps.

There is irony in his son being named Mordred. First, in that the legends surrounding him, Merlin, Camelot, the Knights of the Round Table, and all of it, had long ago decided Mordred was his son. And two, in a retelling of that legend, it had aptly phrased what he sensed was happening now. Granted, he isn’t a sorcerer, he doesn’t have magic, so he can’t support his feeling with anything other than he’d been around a long time and knew to his very core that it was true. Mordred’s birth is a signal of the beginning of the end.

Fatherhood brings him a new sense of purpose. Gone are the days of loneliness and drudgery. Every day with Mordred brings a new light into his life. Each smile is a miracle. Seeing Mordred experience things for the first time brings a new appreciation. Being there to watch him grow makes time fly like it never has before. But Arthur is afraid. He doesn’t want to be his father. He doesn’t know how to be a father, or what the right way to do it is. In all the years he’s been on the Earth, he’s never known a man who could concretely say, “This is the way to raise a son,” and actually reap the fruits of their efforts. Too frequently, he’d seen sons grow outside of the visions their fathers molded for them and receive only disappointment and disdain in return. So he was afraid, because he too had been that son.

*cue a series of fluffy father/son one shots of Arthur raising Mordred until Merlin comes back, takes one look, and is is like WTF????? No, I won’t have Mordred for a step son >:(*

**Mary Stewart and Nancy Springer have several other works, not just the stories I mentioned. The ones mentioned are the ones I’m pulling inspiration from ^^

Additional notes below the break:

Guinevere’s barrenness is not a headcanon I typically subscribe to for BBC Merlin. My headcanon is that after Arthur’s death, Gwen gives birth, and their child eventually succeeds her as ruler.

I’ve always seen Mordred’s appearance as the harbinger of Arthur’s downfall. Thus, the reason for the plot bunnies in my brain going crazy with this idea of how I could bring him in, still remain mostly canon compliant with BBC Merlin, and build off some of my favorite parts of the lore. (Mandatory disclaimer: for BBC Merlin, I don’t headcanon Mordred as Arthur’s son. But for the mythology, I do wholeheartedly support that canon.)

Arthur’s choice to participate and live once Camelot is gone is a decision to contrast my headcanon of how Merlin handled it. I don’t think Merlin thrived. I think he stayed busy, and tried to remain hopeful, but I think he was anxiously consumed with the anticipation of wondering when Arthur would come back. In this au, Arthur may or may not know that Merlin is supposed to come back (I’m still working on that detail), but he’s always been around others. I think he would seek camaraderie, and companionship, and that he would connect with others but only to a superficial level. I don’t think he’d exist in a void of loneliness. Plus, he doesn’t have the guilt of knowing he failed because the pressure from the prophecy is very one sided *coughcough*causemerlinnevertoldhim*coughcough*

Anyways, that’s enough rambling from me about this. I’ll probably share some snippets of writing next because there are some fantastic scenes coming together in the draft so stay tuned! ;D

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #mordred #flipping the coin #my drabbles #arthurian mythology will always be my jam #you can tear this au from my cold dead hands but it will live on #merthur #for the Merlin not wanting Mordred as a stepson joke the last Mordred he knew turned on them to join Morgana #as far as Merlin is concerned they’re the same person #he’ll come around eventually once Arthur fills him in on everything #btw Arthur’s son Mordred is unaware of all of this #he’s having to process his dad - who has never really been interested in anybody for any reason - is completely besotted with some guy #once he learns this ‘some guy’ used to be his father’s servant it does not make things better #but by then he’ll have learned enough that it does clear things up #he’s actually a big fan of Merlin #he just wasn’t prepared for love sick puppy dog Arthur 24/7 now that Merlin’s back

[brotheramberland]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a platonic relationship with Zuko Levi Kakashi , Gojo with their child that’s like a totally a daddy’s kid(?😭) that wants be like them when they grow up and just looks up to them so much and just mimic the things they do and just follows them+how would they feel about it 🥹🫶

Anime characters as fathers with a child!reader.

Characters include: Zuko, Kakashi Hatake, Levi Ackerman, and Satoru Gojo.

Summary: The character's reaction to their child who looks up to them and aspires to be exactly like them.

Please keep in mind: All character and reader interactions are purely platonic. There is NO romance. The reader is somewhere below the age of twelve and is portrayed as non-binary. These drabbles are meant to be platonic, fluffy and comforting.

Notes: For @bellhella. Hi las, I hope you're doing grand. Cute request too, I enjoyed writing it. I added a tiny splash of angst but everything is still pretty fluffy. I try to make each individual drabble unique and different so that viewers can experience a variety of emotions. I hope that's alright. Remember to keep your head up, stay safe and stay awesome!

✿ೋ──────────────────────

Fire Lord Zuko

Ever since you were an infant, you had always clung to him and taken after him, claiming that you wanted to be just like him when you grew up. It was an attitude that Zuko found endearing and it made him beam with pride. After all of his past mistakes, a part of him was against your aspirations, but he wouldn't let his own insecurities get in the way of your dreams.

At a surprisingly young age- barely over your toddler years- you had requested to train. And train you did. Constantly you were trying your hardest to learn new maneuvers, techniques and skills. When you mastered something, you always sought his approval and praise. Zuko was impressed by how well you accepted constructive criticism and fought to grow.

During meetings or speeches, you would always sit back quietly and observe him. Then later Zuko would have to clear out rooms so that you could pretend like you were the fire lord giving hundreds of people a big, inspirational speech. Just like him.

Zuko, to say the least, was extremely proud of how you were growing and exceeding in life. He was just as attached to you as you were to him, and he would do anything to help you grow up to be healthier, happier and safer than he ever got to be during his childhood.

Today you had been training outside. Your father had been teaching you how to spit fire by using the strength of your stomach. Despite how strict and serious he could be, Zuko loved how you displayed your own ways of having fun. You say you want to be just like him, but you were also just so unmistakably 'you' and he loved that.

But today you did something that he didn't quite like.

"Daddy," You turned towards your father on the bench you were sitting on, "Will you... Will you burn my eye? The left one."

And the way your question made Zuko feel on the inside was far more painful than any lightning strike could ever be. He dropped his goblet and froze, unable to believe that you could ask such a thing. You wanted him to 'burn' you? Burn you in such a way similar to how he had been burned?

"Dad?" You asked in light concern.

Zuko shot up, his hair swishing as he went to stand in front of you, "You- don't you dare ask for something like that ever again. Do you hear me?"

Flinching, you gape and stutter in fear at his sudden outburst of anger, "I..." You didn't know what to say, "I-I'm sorry, I... I just wanted to be like you-"

"By wanting me to burn you? That's how you justify yourself right now? Nonsense. I will not tolerate this irrational behavior. If you ever ask me or anyone else to burn you again, then I swear on my life you will regret it, do you understand me?"

You couldn't believe he was so angry. You stiffened up, tears pouring out your eyes.

Zuko nearly shouted, his arms shaking, "I said 'do you understand me'?"

"Yes," You cried, burying your face in your hands, "I'm sorry, ok. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad, daddy, please-uhh... I'm sorry."

Breathing fast, Zuko stared at you and felt a sudden cloud of guilt envelope him, and he frowned in regret. He didn't mean to be so harsh, nor did he want you to cry. He just... He just couldn't stand the thought of you suffering in any of the ways he himself had to.

Calming down, Zuko took in a deep breath and went to kneel in front of you. He reached out, grabbed your hands and gently coaxed them away from your face, "I'm sorry."

Using a spare handkerchief, Zuko gently cleaned your teary eyes and running nose, "I didn't mean to get so angry with you. I was just... You have to understand, (y/n), not all parts of me are honorable, and that includes this mark. My father gave me this mark because he despised me, and... Well... I don't despise you, so even if I did burn you it wouldn't be the same. It would never be the same."

Zuko cupped your face and stroked his thumb over your left cheek, "Please know that I am grateful that we are not the same in this way, and I hope that we never will be."

"I'm sorry..." You croak, still ashamed of yourself, "I didn't know."

"It's okay," Zuko lifted his arms out, "It's okay. I'm not angry."

Standing up, you go to bury yourself into the divine safety of your father's arms, sadness still beating within your heart, "I love you, daddy."

Zuko smiled and hugged you close, "I love you too, (y/n), and I can't wait to see what an excellent fire lord you're going to become one day. Even greater than me."

You whimpered, still upset but lifted by his faith and understanding. You had made a mistake today, but it was okay. You would never do it again. And while you would like to be just like your father in every way that counts, there were some things that could never be the same no matter how similar the situation.

✿ೋ─────────

Levi Ackerman

He woke up to the obnoxious sensation of someone's hand shaking his shoulder, and he groaned grumpily in irritation. "Wake up, daddy," Your ridiculously energetic voice called, "Daddy, come on, it's time to get up."

Levi creaked open his eyes and glared at you, "Hey, wanna know how you can be just like me?"

"How?" You instantly beamed.

"By being tired and going back to sleep," Levi grumbled, grabbing the blankets and yanking them up over his head.

You weren't having any of it though, and you crawled on top of him and began wrestling to get the blanket off. Technically this was how Levi used to have to get you out of bed when you were smaller, but the more you grew the more you wanted to be 'just like him'.

Yay...

By the time you both had playfully wrestled each other out of bed, Levi yawned multiple times while being drug to the bathroom. Darn thing, you were getting good at locating his ticklish spots... In the bathroom, you both brushed your teeth, washed your faces and combed your messy hair.

Although half asleep, Levi still adored how you continously glanced at him to see how he was dressed, what he was doing and how he was doing it. You were always mimicking silly little things he did, exclaiming that you were practicing to be just like him.

Deep down, Levi had nothing but adoration for you. He loved the way you stood to be like him. It made him feel a sense of pride inside that he had such a strong, brave, loyal pipsqueak for a child, and you had no idea how much he loved you.

The only thing Levi disliked about you aspiring to him was how you ranted about joining the Survey Corps and going over the wall to fight titans. Now that... That made his overprotective, paternal instincts scream in disagreement. In no way did he want you going anywhere near the wall. So many people died out there all the time. If he lost you?

Levi wouldn't be able to handle it.

Before breakfast, you got dressed in nearly the exact same outfit as him (courtesy of Hange). "Daddy, can I wear your cape-thingy?" You asked, already wrapped up in his cape.

"Well what do you expect me to wear?" Levi asked, soaking in the endearing display of you all twisted up in his cape.

"I don't know..." You mumble innocently, smiling, "A blanky?"

"Ha... ha... Very funny, squirt," Levi bent down to untangle you from his cape, bopping you on the nose and pinching your cheek, "Why don't I wear this and 'you' go wear the blanket."

"Mmm..." You pouted at him, "But daddy..."

Levi hid a smile and patted your head fondly, "What if I told you that I used to do the same thing when I was your age?"

"Really?" You asked in surprise. If he wore blankets when he was your age, then that meant that you could do the same thing- follow in his footsteps, "Yay!"

"I never said 'yay' though," Levi rolled his eyes, teasing you.

Your arms dropped as you sneered at him, reacting in a manner he would approve of, "Booo..."

"That's more like it," Levi chuckled and went to make some food.

After breakfast, you held your father's hand while walking to the training grounds, a small blanket secured around your neck to thus act like a cape. When you saw the leader of the Survey Corps, you instantly brightened and cheered, "Erwin!"

Erwin looked in your direction and smiled warmly, "Ah, there's my finest cadet."

Levi watched as you sprinted happily up to his leader, his heart skipping beats when Erwin picked you up and lifted you into the air a bit. Your smile and the sound of your laughter was the inspirational fuel that powered his life.

Blindly joining you and his leader, Levi shrugged and gave you a disapproving look, "Just so you know... I've never hugged that imbecile- not once."

Erwin raised a brow, "On the contrary, I remember once when-"

Levi gave him a death glare, "Dont. Even."

You giggled and said joyfully, "Daddys silly. He loves hugs."

"Yes, that is correct," Erwin chuckled and turned briefly to grab something out of the satchel on his horse. "Come, fellow cadet, I brought you something."

"What is it?" You asked.

Levi felt his chest nearly implode at the sight of a miniature cape. The cape itself was plain with no logo, but yet was perfect enough in size that it would fit you for years to come. He watched as Erwin helped replace the blanket you were wearing with it.

Once he was done, you hugged Erwin, thanked him a dozen times, and then ran over to your father, "Daddy, daddy look! I have a cape, an-and it's just like the one you have. Do you like it, daddy? Do I look like you?"

'The spitting image.' Levi smirked and knelt down, "What're you talking about, squirt? You've got way too much energy to be like me."

"Booo," You pouted at him.

Levi laughed and pulled you into a big hug, "It looks good on you, kid. Now, let's get training."

You would be like him one day. Only Levi believed that you would be better.

✿ೋ─────────

Kakashi Hatake

It was night time; five hours after the Chunin Exams were declared over. You were currently hiding in your little tree-bungalow, isolated, quiet and shut-off from the rest of the world. Ever since you lost the exam, you hadn't moved from your hidey-hole nor spoken to anyone.

It broke Kakashi's heart to see you this upset. He knew how hard you had been training to keep up with him, following him in his footsteps and mimicking specific personality traits like his attire and the way he fought. At first it was a habit Kakashi thought was pretty adorable, but as the seriousness of your obsession grew over the years, the more he began to grow concerned.

Kakashi didn't mind you taking after him, but there was a limit. You didn't understand it because you envied him too much, but he saw it. You weren't like him- at least not when it came down to your fighting spirit. See, Kakashi developed a cold heart at a young age. Anger, hatred and determination pushed him to become stronger.

But you weren't cursed with anger, hate and sadness. You weren't a natural born fighter. If anything, Kakashi could see you becoming a strong-willed medic or a superior ginjutsu artist, but definitely not anyone who wants to hurt another person physically. It just wasn't how you were. And Kakashi was grateful for that.

Sighing softly, Kakashi jumped up to the ledge of your tree-bungalow, crouching as he waved, "Hey, dongo."

You didn't say anything from where you laid on the wooden floor. Kakashi frowned at the sight of your multiple bruises and bloody bandages. He really shouldn't have let you take that exam. "Can I come in?"

You nodded.

Kakashi moved a ways in further, finding himself a spot against the wall and leaning against it, "How are you feeling?"

For a few seconds you didn't answer. Kakashi tilted his head in concern when he noticed that you were shaking, the sound of sniffles soon filling the air, "I... I... I'm a failure, daddy."

You looked at him, your mask a mess as you sobbed behind it, "I'm a failure-uh! I-I-I just wanted-uh- t-to be like you..."

"Whoa, hey, it's okay," Kakashi leaned forward, placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed softly, "It's okay, (y/n). You're not a failure."

"Yes I am," You whined, "You passed the Chunin Exams when 'you' were six, b-but I? I... How am I supposed to be like you now, daddy?"

This? This is what broke Kakashi's heart. You getting upset all because you failed to amount to a broken monster like him. "Oh, dongo, come here," Kakashi lifted his arms out.

You still cried as you crawled into your father's lap and leaned against the warmth and safety of his chest. He slipped a finger up and tugged your mask down to your chin thus making it easier to breathe. You whimpered, clinging to him as shame blurred your heart.

"I wanna talk to you about something," Kakashi held you securely while going to wipe your nose with his sleeve, "I understand why you're trying so hard to follow in my footsteps, but I believe that your ambitions are misguided."

"What... What do you mean?" You ask him sadly, confused, "I wanna be like you."

"I know, but perhaps you are trying a little too hard? I mean, you've even gotten to the point you won't eat the food 'you' love anymore all because it's not my preference."

"But... That's how I be like you, daddy," You exclaim.

Kakashi sighed, looking you in your big, teary eyes. He couldn't believe that it had come down to this, but he couldn't hold it in any longer, "(y/n)... I don't want you to be like me. I want you to be like you."

You jerked at that, gaping hurtfully, "What?"

"I know it sounds harsh, but I want you to know that what I'm saying to you right now is in no way meant to hurt you. I just want you to stop pushing yourself so hard to be something you're not. Yes, we are alike in many ways, but we're also different. And those differences are what make us unique- they define who we are and how we grow. And if you continue to grow ignoring all those important things about yourself, pretending to be something you're not, then I fear that you'll never be completely happy. "

You blinked at him, fiddling slowly with your hands and bowing your head, "I..."

Kakashi cupped your face, lifted your chin and wiped away your tears, "You failed the exams today because you weren't ready, (y/n). You're using fighting techniques that don't suit you because they're 'mine'. You haven't even tried to discover your own fighting skills yet. Haven't you ever been curious?"

"But..." More tears began leaking out of your eyes as you looked at him, "I-I love you so much and I... I wanna be just like you-huh."

"(y/n)," Kakashi said lovingly as he pressed your foreheads together, "You can still be just like me by doing the things that make 'you' happy. I'm a great ninja, and you can be one too if you simply try to be more like you instead of me. No matter what, just know that I'll always, always be proud of you and love you till the day my chakra runs out."

You sniffed at him, still upset by your failure but relieved that your father still loved you despite it all. Yes, you wanted to be just like him, but maybe being yourself sometimes too wasn't such a bad thing either.

✿ೋ─────────

Satoru Gojo

When people looked at you, they felt as if they were looking at a miniature Gojo but with a different hair color. You were quite literally the spitting image of your father, and anyone who knew you or Gojo personally would know that you two were practical besties.

Ever since you were born, you magically seemed to take after Gojo- not that it was your fault because Gojo had a really bad habit of dressing you up like him and pretending that you were the world's greatest sorcerer... Besides him, of course. He couldn't help it. You were his little pal and he loved you more than anything.

As you grew, you pretty much wore identical outfits to that of your father. You had even acquired a pair of reflective sunglasses that you wore almost ninety-percent of the time. But outfits weren't the only areas where you excelled in being like him.

Gojo, even as a parent, wasn't afraid to push people to their limits, especially when they genuinely wanted to become stronger. Ever since your powers developed, he had trained you constantly in order to help you learn and grow. You were exceptional like him, and he knew that there was no time to waste.

Your father pretty much took you everywhere and that even included trips on his most dangerous missions. He would carry you on his hip or back while you watched and listened to him explain how to observe and take down enemies. Later he would quiz you, tossing toys or pieces of candy at you in reward.

Some say that Gojo wasn't so much a father to you as he was a best friend. Especially on days when he didn't have to work or train. He happily expressed his childish side, playing games with you, playing dress-up, going to carnivals, riding on miniature scooters, cooking or coloring pictures. He did it all. It was almost as if he loved being like you as much as you loved being like him.

Every time you expressed your admiration and love for him, Gojo's ego was stroked and his confidence boosted. Of course you wanted to be like him. Why wouldn't you? Narcissistic nature aside, Gojo had to admit that there was a sense of self-worth that he felt deep inside at the fact that you loved him and took after him so strongly. It made him happy. He was always proud of you.

And today he was even more proud of you.

You had just successfully made your very first domain expansion- it was rough, unstable and destructive, and it only lasted a few tiny seconds, but it was still a success. A success... That nearly destroyed the house.

Fushiguro, his cereal now all over the floor in ruins, sat in his chair with a frustrated glare on his face, "What kind of monster have you created?"

Gojo was practically dancing like a feather in the wind, singing excitedly, "One that can make domains at (age) years old."

"Oh brother..." Fushiguro rolled his eyes, gesturing to your unconscious body, "Shouldn't you be helping them?"

"Eh?" Gojo blinked ignorantly, concern flooding his body at the sight of you laying unresponsive on the floor, "Aw, we can't be having any of that now, can we?"

Teleporting over to your body, Gojo scooped you up and took you to the medical bay. It was soon confirmed that the force of your actions had merely knocked you out and given you a bloody nose. With a good lecturing from Nanami about "being a better parent", Gojo carried you back home with an endless grin on his face.

"Daddy?" You groaned in his arms.

Gojo gave you no time to talk as he leaned down and nuzzled your cheek, singing again, "Oh my incredible, amazing, talented, devilishly striking, little sorcerer, I'm so proud of you. You did your first domain expansion. Ohhh, I could cry I'm so happy."

Albeit exhausted, you still grinned in his arms and nuzzled his cheek back. It was always a good feeling to witness your father this excited after one of your successes went through. Still though, that move had taken a lot out of you. "Sleepy."

"I bet," Gojo chuckled, maneuvering you to his hip so that he could properly make his way through the mild debris of the house, "You've rightfully earned yourself a nice bath, a delicious meal, and a warm bed."

"With the heated blanky?" You softly croak.

Gojo stuck his thumb up, "Especially with the heated blanky. You've earned it."

"Thank you, daddy," You whimpered, hugging him and pressing the side of your face against his chest. His heartbeat was fast but comforting, his figure safe, warm and protective. You were so happy that you had managed to pull off such an advanced technique.

Prepping you a bath, Gojo let you wash while he was forced to clean up your mess by the ever fussy Fushiguro- aka: the real adult of the house. After you were both done, he fed you something that would soothe your tummy, and then carried you to bed.

Wrapping you up in your heated blanket, Gojo knelt down and caressed your head, "Good job today, my little jujutsu sorcerer. You really made daddy proud."

You whimpered happily and mumbled, "I hope I can do better. I wanna be just like you one of these days."

Gojo smiled, all the love he felt for you fueling his desire to keep moving forward in this cruel world, "You already are, (y/n)... You already are."

#attack on titan #avatar the last airbender #naruto #jujutsu kaisen #zuko x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #levi ackerman x reader #gojo saturo x reader #child!reader #Platonic love only #no romantic relationships #father drabbles #fluff #comfort

[sanshoney]

father & male!child!reader

reader is 10, father is 38

no plot, just general fluff

shout out to boys who never had a healthy father figure in their life

(intentional lowercase, y/n is not used)

– being a divorced father with a 10 year old is a bit difficult, william can tell this much. working overtime to maintain the middle class life both for himself and his child is more than exhausting. but at the end of the day, it's all worth it. everything for his darling boy, right?

– sometimes, he can't manage to pick you up from school, so he asks his best friend, jake, to do that. luckily, jake is a sweetheart and you warmed up to him pretty quickly. he's kinda your best friend too, at this point.

– everytime he comes home, tired, hungry and grumpy from work, you never fail to make him smile. the way you jump up from the couch, scream "daddy!" and run into his arms gets him everytime. he lifts you up and spins you around giggling. you always giggle along with him, wrapping your legs around his torso for extra safety. "hi, sweetheart. how's my darling boy doing, hm?" he kisses your forehead and cheeks lovingly.

– he's a busy man, but he always makes sure to have time for you. father-son weekends are a must, where you basically do anything together. the keyword is "together". you could watchim movies, go to the playground, draw together or even cook (you being his "little assistant", as he calls you, because he's obviously not gonna let you near to the stove), all that matters is that you're having a good time with your father.

– in your eyes, he's the one who knows everything. when you have a question, you ask it from him. when he's not around, jake would do, sure, but he's the main source of your knowledge. you always say that everything you know, you know it from him. it doesn't matter that you learnt reading, still learning counting and numbers in school, you deny it all. you always tell will that he's much better than school and you could spend your whole life having knowledge only from him. he only laughs and pats your head, "you're too sweet for your own good."

– he makes sure to raise you right, so you'll turn out a mentally healthy and happy person. he teaches you to refrain and not listen to anything that toxic masculinity contains. "having emotions is okay. everyone has them; everyone cries, laughs or gets embarrassed from time to time. feeling sad it's more than okay, my boy. if you need to cry, let it out. im here for you always, sweetie. please rely on me when needed."

– he teaches you about different races and sexualities pretty soon. he wants you to be a respectful and open-minded person. and if happens, that you're not cis or straight, don't hate yourself but instead accept yourself. he really just wants the best for you.

– he also teaches you that being kind and affectionate isn't feminine. hugging or kissing someone you love and fond of it's just a human thing, not a "girl thing". thats why, he always encourages you to kiss or hug him when you'd like to. of course, he doesn't force you - he said that there are people who simply don't like physical touch and you need to respect that. boundaries are meant to be taken seriously, after all.

– he has a habit of calling you by petnames like honey, sweetheart, darling and anything like those. "petnames are a sign of affection. you can use petnames on your romantic partners, or in our case, familiar bonds too. tell me, if you'd like me use a new petname or want me stop the whole thing," he's just so considerate of your feelings.

– "a good man is respectful, loving and kind. these are the main qualities of a healthy person."

– he makes sure to compliment and praise you a lot. he wants you to have a healthy confidence - you're perfect, after all. in his eyes, at least. "that's my boy", "you did such a good job, darling. im so, so proud of you", "look at you being so pretty in your new tee. you're beautiful, my sweet". he always makes you feel so good and warm. that's why, you compliment him back. "daddy, your new shirt looks really nice on you", "daddy, you look so handsome today".

– but of course, both of you compliment each other's personalities as well. "my boy, it was so kind of you to say that about jake. im so proud to have such an endearing little boy like you". "honey, you are so clever. not many kids know this. you're quick to learn. im very proud of you, dear". there are times, when wills especially emotional. he can give a long, loving speech about his unconditional love for you.

you're laying on your father's chest, your head burried in his neck. he's slowly rubbing your back and hums a familiar melody. you're not sure what it is tho. you're on the verge of falling asleep, when you suddenly hear wills voice.

"darling?" his voice is soft, gentle in case you're already sleeping. "hmm?" "you know i love you very much, right?" "i love you too, daddy." "and you know im always proud of you? im always gonna be proud of you, no matter what you do. even if you make mistakes, you're perfect for me. everytime i look at you i just... feel so much love towards you. my sweet, adorable boy. you're so kind, clever and affectionate. you're my pride and joy." he kisses your forehead. you feel yourself blushing, hearing your daddy's loving words always being a treat. and you're having a lot of treats. "you're worth every single overworked day, every frown that paints my face less friendly. coming home to you is what keeps me going. feeling your little arms and legs wrapped around my body makes me happy beyond words. im so happy to have a son like you..." his voice cracks and you can see his eyes glisten. he's so full of emotions right now.

you lift your head up from his chest quickly, worried. "please don't cry, daddy... you make me happy too. i love you too. please don't be sad." you say softly, rubbing his cheeks clumsily and looking at him with your doe eyes. he can't help but smile at your sweetness. "baby, im not sad. i feel the opposite, actually. these are tears of happiness."

you frown at him confused. if he's happy, why is he crying? isn't crying a bad thing? you decide, it doesn't matter. you just want to comfort him, like he always does with you. you press soft kisses to his whole face, leaving a bit of your molecules on his skin. he smiles gently and if anything, he just wants to cry harder now. he can't believe he has got such an angel in his life. "you're a blessing. an angel descended from heaven. i can't believe i have such a miracle in my arms like you..." he starts cradling you. "d-daddy..." you blush again. sometimes you wonder what did you ever do to deserve him. "im not an angel..." "you are. my little angel." he grins happily and covers your face in soft kisses, giving you back the favor from earlier. you smile sheepishly, basking in your father's love. it feels almost natural, really.

you can't help but wonder what would it be like, if you had a different parent, someone meaner and crueler. but the thing is, you don't have to worry about that. all that matters is that you have the perfect father, the kinda one shown in tv. and you couldn't be happier.

hope you enjoyed!! ♡

#Spotify #x reader #x male reader #x child reader #father #fluff #oc #oc x reader #oc x male reader #drabble

[heich0e]

18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact!

"oh, good"—takahiro's familiar head of strawberry blonde hair pops up over the back of the sofa as you step through the door, toeing off your work shoes in the narrow entryway of your shared apartment—"you're home!"

he pushes the gaming headset he's wearing off his ears, leaving it and his controller abandoned on the couch as he pulls himself up over the back of it. his long legs carry him quickly across the width of your modest home, and before you know it he's upon you—taking your bag from your hands and helping you free your arms from your coat.

you laugh a little at his eagerness as he impatiently tugs your outerwear off. "yeah, i'm home."

"thank god," he replies solemnly, setting the bag you take to work with you off to the side. he takes your hands in his and uses his hold on them to tug you forward towards him. he peers down at you, 186cm of man with the most deceptively soft flutter of his lashes. "sit on my face?"

"takahiro!"

your protest is half chastising and half a giggle, and when you try to pull your hand from his to swat at his chest he just twines your fingers together and holds you tighter. he pouts a little at you in the wake of what he interprets as refusal.

"baby, i've been waiting for you to get home for hours," he tells you pointedly, pulling you a bit closer so your bodies are flush against each other. his hands slip nimbly to your hips, simultaneously pawing at you and pressing you as close to his body as humanly possible. you don't miss the press of something firm in his sweatpants as he holds you against him—nor do you doubt the veracity of his statement in the wake of the sensation.

"at least let me shower," you barter with him, pressing weakly against his chest in a halfhearted attempt to escape his insistent touches.

he shakes his head. "can't wait."

"hiro," you laugh, squeezing your eyes shut, "i just walked in the door."

"i know," he replies, dipping down and dotting a kiss to your temple. "you must've had a long day."

you hum in agreement, luxuriating for a moment in the soft press of his lips as they slip down to your cheek.

"so let me help you relax," he murmurs into your skin, his hands at your waist slipping further down to paw at the back of your skirt. he takes a little step back towards the couch, drawing you along with him like a dance. in no time at all he reaches the arm of the sofa, and he topples back, splayed against the couch cushions where you're sure he spent most of his day. he peers up at you, smiling wolfishly. "i've got the perfect seat waiting for you."

you sigh, but the sound is as fond as it is exasperated.

"let me at least take my tights off," you mutter. "you've ripped enough that i'm down to my last two good pairs."

he pushes himself up onto his elbows, his eyes alight with excitement. "be my guest."

you shoot him a wry look, shimmying your skirt up over your hips so you can slip your thumbs into the waistband of your nylons. makki's attention is rapt as you tug the tight, clinging material down your thighs—watching every inch of their painfully slow descent. once you've kicked them off in a heap on the living room floor, your hands move towards the zipper of your skirt.

"no, no,"—he stop you before you can begin to remove the garment—"leave that on."

you look at him with a brow drawn up in question. "why?"

he gnaws on his lip, his eyes flickering back down to the glimpse of soft, lace-trimmed cotton he can see peeking out from under the bunched up hem of your skirt.

"you look so hot in business clothes," he tells you, groaning brokenly as he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure. "like a sexy teacher."

"you're a pervert," you remark, but you don't protest as he stretches forward and tugs you towards the sofa by the hem of your skirt.

"oh, definitely," he agrees cheerfully.

you shuffle forward on the sofa until you're straddling his face, and his hands find yours again—interlocking your fingers as you hover over him on your knees.

"hi," he remarks, a boyishly charming grin on his face as he peers up at you from between your parted thighs.

"hi," you quietly return the greeting with a light laugh, and he squeezes your fingers with his own. your legs are starting to burn from holding yourself up over him, but because of the way he's holding your hands you can't press them down into the sofa to support you.

your only option is to sit, or to suffer.

takahiro lets his head loll to the side, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh. he nips at you playfully afterwards, and when you hiss slightly in surprise, his tongue darts out and slides against the sting to soothe it.

"you didn't even ask me how my day was before you manhandled me over here, you know," you remark, but there's not nearly enough complaint in your tone for it to be sincere.

hiro hums, a placating, easy sound, and presses another kiss to your thigh. "sorry, baby. how was your day?"

"it was good," you say, your hips dipping ever so minutely closer to his waiting mouth. "how was yours?"

"it was okay,—" hiro answers, but his words are mostly breath.

you watch your boyfriend swallow thickly, like there's suddenly saliva pooling in his mouth. his eyes are fixed to the little damp spot you feel inking across the cotton of your panties, but they flicker back up to yours—hungrier now than they were a moment prior—before he speaks again.

"—but it's about to get way better."

#father forgive me for i'm about to sit #hanamaki takahiro x reader #makki x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing #mdni

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

lord have mercy im bout to busttttt

#hes so father #daryl dixon #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader

[angelxd-3303]

Ok, everyone asked for this, so here you go!

Tw: panic attack, mention of trauma

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

"I don't understand, he's never done this!" Kamek gave his concerned agreement, saying:

"Indeed, this is very unlike him." He and Bowser were scouring the castle grounds in search of Luigi. The queen had gone missing around midday, with guards swearing that he'd never left. Certainly he wouldn't sneak out? Bowser was rumbling worriedly, looking over and under everything in his room. Then, he perked up.

"If I'm going to find him, I need to get down to his level. Get me one of the human potions." Too worried to argue, Kamek hopped on his broom and raced to his study. As he exited the room, he was met by all eight Koopalings. All of them sensed the fear from their elders, and it unsettled them.

"Where's Mama?" Ludwig asked.

"We, uh, don't know. Hey! Spread out and go help us find him. He's got to be somewhere in the castle…" The last bit was mumbled, but the koopa kits were already scampering off in all directions to find their Mama. Kamek rushed back to Bowser, where the frantic husband was letting out rumbling chirps to call his mate. Kamek smacked him on the head to snap him out of it; one instinct-driven MegaKoopa was one too many. Bowser growled, stopping once he saw Kamek. The wizard handed him the potion, and the eager Koopa King downed it in one gulp.

The changes were quick, and soon a strongly built ginger with dark skin and catlike yellow eyes replaced the gargantuan koopa. Bowser shook his head to clear it, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt. He rolled the sleeves up to the elbows, as he hated the feeling of them being all the way down.

"Ok, I'm gonna check the room again; go check on the troops. See if anyone's found him." Bowser ordered. Kamek bowed, racing on his broom to obey. Bowser looked around the room, opening closets and pushing aside a multitude of dresses to peek behind them. Nothing. He huffed.

Where could his beloved queen be?!

—------------------------------------------------

'It's ok, just wait here until Mario comes back.' It was no secret that Luigi had a hard time with solitude. He'd always been with his brother; being alone was dangerous. Being alone was bad. He had to hide. Hide until he wasn't alone. 

That led to Luigi eventually tucking himself away in the back of a broom closet. He snuggled into his shawl, sighing deeply. Cleaning supplies surrounded him, and Luigi made sure they obscured his hiding place from view. He rested his head against the wall behind him, playing with his braid. 

He had been taking care of some paperwork for the construction of a new set of ships. Rather than warships, these were made for the purpose of exploration. Since the Koopa Kingdom had shed their somewhat barbaric reputation, other worlds were more open to the idea of the kingdom expanding their knowledge.

The bookkeepers were thrilled to have their queen taking care of the paperwork. Not only was he more organized than Bowser, but they also didn't have to print all the papers out to be six times their size so he could read it. The only problem was, he had been alone nearly all morning. After saying a quick "see you later" to his husband, Luigi had been left to his own devices, aside from a servant bringing him lunch at his desk. 

It started ok, with him carefully reading through each document before signing them. More and more though, Luigi found his eyes darting around the room nervously. His leg began to bounce, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his hand trembled as he picked up his glass of water. Finally, Luigi let out a whimper and jumped up from his seat. He braced his hands against the mahogany desk, shaking and panting. In moments, he was no longer safe in his home. Suddenly he was on the streets, and all he knew was that Mario was nowhere in sight. 

Mind clouded by fear, Luigi snuck out of his study on featherlight feet. He darted about looking for a place to hide. He finally found a broom closet, rushing in and burrowing himself in the furthest corner. Finally he could breathe.

—-----------------------------------------------

"Mama! Mama!" Lemmy called, perched on the head of a paratroopa.

"Mama, where are you?!" Jr. peeked under a table, frowning at Wendy as she scoffed.

"He wouldn't be under the table, silly!" His twin declared. Jr. stuck out his tongue.

"Well I don't see you miraculously finding him, dummy!" He retorted. Iggy stepped between them, growling irritably.

"Shut up, you knuckleheads! This isn't helping! Quit fighting, Mama could be hurt, or trapped somewhere!" The pair sobered, resuming their search of the dining hall more intensely. 

Morton, meanwhile, was out in the hall with Ludwig and Roy. Larry scampered in, frantic.

"He's not in his study, any luck?!" He shouted. Roy shook his head, tail twitching nervously. As they ran through a list of possible places, Morton suddenly perked up. He wasn't very good at talking, Mama was working with him on that, but he had a very good sense of smell. As such, the scent of lilac perfume and old books came to him easily. A smell that was so uniquely Mama. He sniffed the air, tail wagging as he followed the trail. 

The rest of the kits had entered the hall, and Iggy frowned at seeing Morton shuffle off.

"Uh. Morton. Buddy. Ma's still missing, dude." He called. Morton shot him a toothy grin, wagging his tail.

"Mama this way!" He exclaimed. Morton didn't wait for them to answer, trotting off. His siblings tailed after, a chorus of trills sounding off as they picked up the scent. The kits rounded the corner, skidding to a halt. At first they didn't recognize the strange human, but the thick smell of apple wood smoke and honey marked him as their Papa. 

"Anything, kids?" He asked. 

"Morton found Mama's scent! We're following it now!" Laughing with relief, Bowser patted Morton's head.

"Atta boy, Morton! Let's go find your Mama." With that, the group followed Morton. He sniffed the air, pausing beside a closet door. He crouched down, sniffing under the doorway. Yup, Mama was definitely in there!

"Is…is he in there? Why would Mama be in the closet?" Wendy inquired. Morton chirped worriedly. Mama was in there, he was sure of it! Papa came up beside him, and opened the door. The kits all piled up in the doorway. At first, no one saw anything. Well, other than a broom closet. Then, way in the back, something moved.

Morton crawled in, burly body barely fitting. He nudged his Mama's leg, chirping. A soft snore met him, and he trilled. His Mama didn't respond at first, then his pretty eyes opened slowly. 

"Mhh? Morton?"

"Hi, Mama!" Morton exclaimed. Mama looked sleepy, humming softly.

Behind him, Bowser sighed with relief. He turned to the paratroopa accompanying the kits.

"Tell the search parties we found him."

"Yes, sire." Bowser nudged Morton, who gave up his place hesitantly. Bowser crouched down, moving buckets and mops aside. Luigi was tucked into the back of the closet, and seemed to be just waking up. Bleary eyes landed on him, and Luigi whined quietly.

"Mh, Bowser? Wha-?" 

"Shhh, it's ok." Bowser reassured him, gently scooping him up. It took a bit of wiggling, but Bowser managed to get out. Immediately, Luigi was bombarded by his worried children. All of them were trilling and chirping while rubbing their cheeks against his.

"Mama, why were you in the closet?!"

"We were so worried!"

"Are you hurt, did someone hurt you?!"

Luigi looked between the speakers with a dazed expression.

"Uh…huh? Wha-"

"Ok, I think your Mama is having a rough day, how about you go let all the search parties know he's ok? I'm gonna take him back to the nest." Leaving no room for argument, Bowser gathered Luigi up bridal style and carried him towards their shared room. Luigi went limp against his chest, groaning. As he was laid down, Luigi rubbed his eyes.

"Ugh, what happened?" Bowser sighed, pulling him into his arms as he sat down.

"I was hoping you could tell me. You went missing for a few hours; the whole Capital is in an uproar because no one could find you." He explained. Luigi groaned.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I…I don't know what happened. I just… I was alone for a long time…and I think…" Luigi twiddled his thumbs. 

"I think I got really panicked. I started thinking that I was…back on the streets and had to hide." Bowser hummed, kissing his forehead.

"Well, we can't have that now can we, my Queen? How about we arrange for you to have an assistant with you so you're not alone while doing paperwork? Would that help?" Luigi's eyes darted around, he was clearly still disoriented.

"I don't- I don't know, I…" He sniffled, burying his face in Bowser's chest with whimpered apologies. 

"Hey, shush, it's ok. I've got you. Let's just relax for a bit, ok? We can make decisions later. Just breathe, Turtledove." He whispered. Luigi nodded, and they did just that. Later the Koopalings would swarm the nest to comfort their still shaking Mama, and Kamek would come in to meticulously look him over to make sure he really was unharmed.

For now? They just sat in the silence and enjoyed the company of the one they loved the most.

#luigi #bowser #koopalings #bowser Jr #fic drabble #poor luigi #Morton koopa knows what's up #he may not be able to read well but he knows how to find his Mama #Mama Luigi #human bowser #father figure kamek my beloved