#dad bo sinclair

[small-sinclair]

His Sun

Bo Sinclair x pregnant!reader

******************

“Co’ere,” Bo says softly, his hand reaching out to you. There’s a gleam in his eye, something new to him. “Darlin’ rose, come closer?”

Absorbing the sunlight on your freckle kissed skin, it looked like you were gliding through the rays as if they were water. Though the wooden floors absorbed most of the light, you were still the brightest star in the universe. How did he get so lucky? What star fell from the sky and decided to spend its final light on him? If he could bask in your golden rays, he would die with his heart shimmering like cooper coil.

His hands were calloused as you took his, and he pulled you down for your back against his chest. Subconsciously, his hand reached around your growing bump as if he were protecting it from the dust of his own darkness.

“Six months in and you’re still as pretty as ever,” he drawls, kissing the top of your head. “Sugar, think they hear us talk? Hear your pretty voice an’ me going off?”

He shudders silently as your hand slipped over his. “I would like to think they do,” you answered, rubbing your thumb over his knuckle. “You nervous about the doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”

Huffing a breath, he buried his face between the corner of your jaw. He nods slowly as his other hand wrapped around your chest, squeezing you slightly. “They said twins, doll,” concern laced his words, “what if they’re not…if they…shit, I can’t think of stand the thought of they’re—“

“They won’t be like you or Vincent,” you reassured, running your other hand through his hair. Your fingers brushed the long, jagged scar on the back of his head, and it made him tense up and growl a warning. “Dr. Henrik—“

“What if he’s wrong?” He cuts your words off as he turns his head to look at you, but he stayed on your shoulder. “What if they’re connected? I can’t,” he tried to find his words in a scrambled notebook, “I don’t want my children to go through what Vinny an’ I did. I don’t wanna see’em get bullied for a scar or anything.”

You shifted slightly in his arms to see him better, and you lifted his face up. “Beauregard, listen,” you thumbed the scar on his chin. It was so old that it was nearly a foreign thing to his face but the pain still lingered. “Our children will know love and be loved because we love,” your words felt like a heavy yet warm hug to him, and he couldn’t help but believe in your words, “and you are not your parents. We aren’t like them.”

“Mama said—“

“She lied about calling you a monster,” you already knew what he was going to say, “because I see you, Bo. I see you.” Your lips brushed against his before claiming a small kiss. “I mean it when I say it. You’ll do great.”

The weight of the world rolled off his shoulders after your kiss and encouragement. You truly are a wishing star. “Thank you, darlin’,” he said, pulling you back in his to his heart. The uneasy barbed wires that stung his air and heart washed away. “If I keep gettin’ worried, just…just remind me, okay?”

“Okay,” you kisses his cheek then nestled into his warmth. “I love you, Bo.”

He responded with a kiss on the neck and tightening his arms, grunting an acknowledgment. He’ll say it; give him time. That’s all he needs, really: time. Time to grow with you and his sons, time to find out who he’ll be when his children are here, and time to change the scarred past to a better future. You and Jasmine are here, the daughter he has no blood with but he’ll kill anyone for her. Now she won’t be lonely as much as he was before Lester was born.

He felt your weight loosen in his arms and heard soft puffs of air leave your lips. As far as he’s concerned, you are the sun and Jasmine the stars. He? He’s the lucky sky that gets you all to himself.

[bella-goths-wife]

Parent slashers with their newborn child?

Parent slashers with newborn child reader

Michael Myers

Michael found you abandoned in an alleyway, and shockingly didn’t kill you

You were crying which he found annoying but when he went to you, you opened your big eyes at him and the monster melted away

He picked up in your baby seat with both hands and had you facing him, completely unaware of how to hold a a baby

He takes you back to the myers residence and you continue to cry which annoys him to the point he has to go out and kill someone to relieve stress

He returned to find you gone and was furious as he search for you

The neighbour lady had found you after she heard crying from the abandoned home, and she took you to her house

Michael stumbles across you when she sees the neighbour lady changing you and feeding you

From watching her he leans how to hold, feed and change you before he kills her and takes you back to his home

He finds his old crib in the basement and pulls it into the bedroom he sleeps in

When he goes out to kill, he leaves you in the crib for long periods of time because as much as we all like to romanticise parent Michael, he would definitely be a neglectful parent

He tried to take you on one killing spree by carrying you in the portable baby carrier but one of his victims distracted him by grabbing you and running

This caused the other victim to get the police involved and Michael gets brought to the asylum

You are taken into social care until Loomis offered to have you in his care, so he could use you to test Michaels morality

Loomis scheduled you to be with Michael for a day once a week and honestly it was the highlight of Michaels week

He’d hold you to his chest and refuse to let you go or to let anyone touch you

When it came time for the session to end, Michael had to be physically subdued so they could get you out the room

Eventually Michael escapes and kidnaps you but he would be captured again a few months afterwards

This cycle would continue until your teens, you even saw Loomis as a secondary parent figure at that point

It was like a lethal custody battle

Bo Sinclair

You were a product of one of Bo’s many one night stands

Your mother was a woman in the village who got pregnant and when she told Bo, he begged for her to get an abortion

She refused and he refused to be in the baby’s life, your mother was exceptionally happy about that

One person who did want to be in your life was lester, so he stayed by your mother until she gave birth so he could know his niece or nephew

Once your mother gave birth, she was ordered to have bed rest so lester offered to babysit you during the day

So lester brought you to all his duties, including taking you to the house

Vincent met you and instantly fell in love with your chubby cheeks and your baby hands

Bo was less ecstatic about having you in the house and would visibly avoid you

That was until lester went for a nap and left you in the portable crib in the living room

Bo walked in and saw you before trying to slowly back away like you were some wild animal, it was too late and you began to cry

Bo called for his brothers to no answer so he picked you up awkwardly and rocked you

You giggled at him and out your hands on his cheeks

Bo didn’t want to admit it, but that warmed his heart slightly

So the next time you came around, he was much more involved

His world shifted and he was no longer the most important person in his life, you were

He begged your mother to let him have custody of you, she refused and said that it was too late for him to step up

He felt jealous of Lester being able to see you every day, and it all got worse when bo stumbled across you calling Lester ‘dada’

That was the last straw, he killed your mother and had her body made into a wax figure

The courts awarded him custody and now he was fully involved with you

He had to have Lester teach him a few things but he took good care of you for the most part

He grew less and less interested in you as time went on

so even though he was now legally your father, you still secretly call Lestor dad every once and a while

Vincent Sinclair

You were one of Bo’s various abandoned children, but unlike the others your mother died in childbirth which left you under the care of Bo

Bo didn’t give a shit about you and would constantly leave you crying on the couch

Your crying would disturb Vincent’s artistic flow so he got angry and stormed up stairs to take care of the problem

He awkwardly rocked you until he realised that Bo hadn’t fed you and that’s why you were so fussy

Vincent gave you some baby formula and watched in awe as you giggled at him and made grabby hands at him

From that moment, vincent decided that he was your father and not bo

He would keep you downstairs with him at all times and even built you a crib but you mostly just co-slept with him

Bo didn’t care that Vincent had taken you, the only time he interacted with you was to yell at you

Vincent quickly shut that down in one of the only times he stood up to Bo

You grew with Vincent keeping you close at every moment, sure it was suffocating sometimes but it was better than the alternative which was Bo

All in all, Vincent was a good father to you

Thomas Hewitt

You were brought into the world when the hewitts kidnapped a young woman who was pregnant and her husband

The hewitts hesitated but thought as long as the baby wasn’t born, it wasn’t killing the baby because the mothers body would do that when she died

But she had to go and give birth while under captivity, the stress triggering labour and eventually ending with a crying baby

Your mother bled to death and the family eventually ate her and your biological father

Luda may refused to kill you, it went against her strict Christ fearing beliefs

So she insisted she would raise you as her own

But Luda may was an old woman, she didn’t have the energy to raise another child

So she passed on the responsibility to thomas who did most of the child care

She taught him how to hold a baby and how to feed them

He eventually found himself enjoying holding you and loving you

He grew into the title of ‘dada’ pretty quickly

The family deluded themselves that god had sent them a new Hewitt to pass on the family traditions

Hoyt tried to get Thomas to use the cry it out method for your crying but Thomas refused

When Hoyt forcefully removed you from your crib that Thomas had in the basement for you to get you to stop crying, thomas snatched you away and used his physical strength to threaten him away

Hoyt left you alone after that

Asa Emory

Asa saw that his cover as the kind, friendly professor wasn’t cutting it anymore

People were getting suspicious, hateful even

So what better way to make yourself look harmless as being a single father

Or even better, an abandoned single father

One of his favourite ’pets’ had been pregnant at the time and had given birth to you

How coincidental, so asa took you in and spun the story that the mother abandoned the two of you

I’m reality your mother was being tortured to death in the abandoned hotel

At first he just wanted to hire a team of nanny’s to deal with your care, but something changed

When he held you after your birth, he saw something

He saw his future, his legacy

He would raise you to be his carbon copy, you would continue his traditions

A part of him loved you, but another just saw your survival as necessary for his

He takes your care into his own hands and takes you everywhere with him

He granted your mother the privilege of holding you before he slit her throat, she would only stunt your progress if she was involved in your life

He was possessive over you, he refused to let anyone touch his legacy

If you were a boy, he would view you as more lovable because you could carry on the family name of Emory

If you were a girl, he would still love you and teach you but he would expect you to carry children in the future and he would try for a boy

If you were a girl he would also view your dating life as his legacy as his grandchildren need to continue his rich blood, he would hand pick you a male spouse no matter your sexual orientation

You would need to continue his line

Tiffany valentine

Tiffany was impregnated by Chucky before he died, and at first she resented the idea of being a single mother

That all changed when she felt you kick in her stomach

Your tiny feet giving her a feeling of butterflies wings as she smiled and held her enlarged stomach

When you were born, she cradled you close to her and laughed as you opened your eyes and she saw that you had your mothers eyes

She moved the two of you into the trailer and decided to go cold turkey on killing, she couldn’t leave her precious miracle alone now could she?

She would co-sleep with you because she couldn’t bare to not have the bonding time with you

She wouldn’t let anyone touch you, you were her miracle and she couldn’t risk you being hurt

She keeps her dating minimal and casual because she doesn’t want to have her time with you as a baby disturbed by outside influences

When Chucky reappeared, she was at first happy that you would have a father figure in your life

But after Chucky laughed in her face and threatened you, she took you and ran away from the doll forever

But Chucky seemed to have a change of heart when he realised that a game of ‘hide the soul’ would be a fun game to play with his dear child

Otis driftwood

Otis became your father through one of his victims

His victim thought it would be a good idea to seduce otis and then escape

It surprising worked well enough for her to fall pregnant

She attempted to run when she found out but she was hunted down by mama firefly and baby

They were elated to be an aunt and grandma

Otis was scared shitless

But family doesn’t abandon family

You were born and your mother was killed and her head was kept as a present for you when you were older

People told Otis that holding his child would make him feel like a changed man, but it didn’t

It just worsened his already terrible habits, but now he excused them as protecting you

He held you, and he fell in love

You were amazing, your big eyes stared at him and he was mesmerised by every movement

He even found himself cooing at you before he stopped

He isn’t massively involved in your care because mama and baby handles it

But he’s a weirdly involved father in other aspects such as education and affection

He’s an affectionate father when your a newborn

Whenever your not crying or being cooed at by other family members, your in his arms

He likes to sleep on the chair in his room while holding you in his arms

He loves when your tiny fists yank at his beard or hair, he finds it adorable

He kisses your forehead a lot and adores your giggles when he does

He truly loves you

When victims come over to the house, he always has an eye on who’s close by

He keeps you close to him and kills anyone who attempts to touch you, even in innocent ways

He vowed that when your older, you would learn the firefly ways

Baby firefly

Baby one day decided she wanted to be a mother

She saw what joy she brought mama firefly, she wanted that for herself

She found a man in a bar and got herself pregnant

Unlike most women, she enjoyed pregnancy

She felt close to you, you were growing inside her

You were a miracle that had taken plant in her womb

She had the support off mama and surprising Otis who offered her the baby daddy’s head and a baby shower present

You were born in the firefly residence as baby screamed and cried her way through labour

18 hours later and she held you in her arms, her bundle of joy

She had a crib made out of previous victims bones, another gift from mama this time

She would sometimes just watch you sleep peacefully, she just thought you were amazing

She would find the crying and the late nights irrationally annoying but she claimed it was worth it to see your chubby face in the morning

She’s pretty neglectful, but she tries her best

She spends most of her time killing people, which leaves mama to take care of you

But she still tries to be involved and plays with you whenever she remembers you exist

She would grow less interested in you as you grow but she would still find you amazing

You were still her baby no matter the age

When she’s caught and taken to prison, she can’t bare the thought of you being in another woman’s arms

When she gets back she kills your foster carer slowly and torturously

She would hold you in her arms while they were still bloody and would revel in your giggles

[mentallygill]

someone made a fanfic of my fanart and i couldnt read it (had some triggering topics for me unfortunately) but i was still so happy and it was awesome as fuck knowing my art was enjoyed so much that a person made more art ontop of it!!! god i hope that persons doing well

“Is it okay if I draw fanart of your fanfic?👉🏼👈🏼”

My brother in Christ we shall have a spring wedding

[hanighul]

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture and save it from he funny tricks of time, slipping through my fingers all the time… 🌱

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers as fathers with a (teenage) reader.

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

Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART TWO. Hurt/comfort addition.

Folks who wanted to be tagged. @hope4rain19, @minaxcarter, @brooke-stinson, @urminebutidontwantyou, @gaipplrhot, @gyarukitti, @raphydude, @thelxapeia, @ant1d3pre55ant5add1ct, @decentsoupperson, @kawaistrawberry21.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy sighed as he stomped to your room in search of his laptop. You had been in such a rush this morning to get to school that you had accidentally left it in there. And while he always respected your wishes for him to never enter your room, he really needed his laptop. Sacrifices need be made some times.

However, as Freddy wandered into your room, he was met with a sight that literally stole his breath. Your bed was completely littered with folders and painted canvas boards. There was a large portfolio bag laying on the ground with its contents scattered everywhere. Painting and drawing utensils alike sat scattered over a table with a still wet painting taped atop.

Eyes ridiculously wide, Freddy looked around and deeply observed the area. He didn't know you owned any of this stuff. Paintings, oil canvases, drawings and sketches, and all of them were yours. And each piece looked really, really good. Freddy couldn't believe what was happening right now.

He thought you gave up on art.

Delicately picking up multiple art pieces, a happiness and sense of pride rushed through Freddy's heart, and he found himself grinning big in a mixture of relief and utter joy. You still loved art, and you were so good at it. He hadn't destroyed your passion after all. That being said though... Why would you hide this from him?

Later that day when you came home, Freddy asked you to go to the kitchen. When you went inside, you froze right on the spot. There, scattered all across the kitchen table, were multiple art projects of yours.

"Dad..." You choked, your heart racing in fear, your words stolen from you, "I..."

"I needed my laptop and uh... Accidentally found these," Freddy explained, a happy smile covering his face as he went to grab your shoulders, "Sweetie, why would you hide this from-"

"I told you not to go in there." You almost shouted, tears blurring your eyes as you pulled away from him.

"Sweetie," Freddy took a step back, hurt by your defensive attitude.

You went to the table and quickly began to gather up your art work. Freddy chased after you to try and get you to stop, "No, stop it. Don't do that- just-just wait a sec, I-"

"I get it, dad, you hate it. You've always hated my art. You-just... J-just leave me alone. Don't touch it, ok," You avoided eye contact while scurrying to protect your work, "I'll put it away."

"No, that's not what I want. (y/n). (y/n), will you please look at me. Hey," Freddy placed a hand on your shoulder and kept you from stomping off, "(y/n), look at me."

With a tense body and watery eyes, you looked at him, art work clutched to your chest and a glare covering your face.

Freddy sighed and said in earnest, "That's not what I want. Your art, I love it. I think it's beautiful an-and amazing! I-I mean, all this time? Really? I thought you gave up on it, I... I thought that I..."

Relaxing, you lowered your arms and looked him straight in the eyes. It felt like your heart had just done a summersault in your chest. "You... You mean it? You... You really like my art?"

"I love it!" Freddy exclaimed almost too quickly, "I love it so much, you have no idea. You have no idea how happy this makes me, (y/n). I thought that I ruined art for you. I... I never stopped feeling guilty about what I did. And I always hoped that one day you would start again, but..."

"Dad," You bit your lip hard in an attempt not to cry. He cared. He actually cared, and he loved your art. He was happy for you.

"Here," Freddy went to grab an old folder off the table.

Suspicious, you set down your art and went to take the folder. When you opened it, you saw dozens of old, un-crumpled papers with very distinct, familiar drawings on them. It took a minute, but you soon realized that these were the very drawings you had thrown away when you were little.

"You... Kept them?" You gaped at your dad, your heart aching in a happy/sad way.

"Of course I did," Freddy's smile wobbled a bit, "I love you and I love everything you do, and I'm so, so sorry for making you feel bad, f-for making you feel like you had to hide this from me."

Lowering the folder, you felt your lips wobble as your heart clenched in great happiness and relief. All this time you believed your dad hated your passion. He had hurt you so badly, but he regretted it. He had always regretted it, and he loved your work.

In a desperate attempt to hide your tears, you rush up to your dad and give him a big hug. Freddy held you as tightly as he could, his arms fierce and protective as he said, "Don't ever give up on your art, (y/n). No matter what, please. I love you so much."

Michael Myers

Michael had wandered out of the garage a few minutes after your friend's dad dropped you off. "Me and (friend's name) are gonna grab a snack real quick, k dad?" You had hollered while rushing into the house.

Rolling his eyes a bit, Michael approached the other man who casually got out of the car. He was grinning big at you and his own kid, seemingly proud and full of joy. "My god, man," He said mindlessly, smiling at Michael, "I tell ya, that was one hell of a game today. Whoo, and (y/n)? My god, they were great."

Puzzled and confused, Michael could only tilt his head in wonder. Game? What game?

The man shook his head and gave Michael an even more puzzled look than he himself sported, "Hey, how come I never see you at any of their games? Rough job or something?"

Michael's silence and confused expression urged the man to explain more.

"You know, the (sport) game? Just had one today- what a show I tell ya. But, I just- I never see you there, you know?"

At that, Michael's eyes went unspeakably wide. (sport)? You were playing (sport)? What? For how long? Why didn't he know about this? He thought you quit playing that when you were little. What was going on?

A week later and Michael was sitting amongst the crowd that was watching your (sport) game. You didn't know he was there. You didn't even know that he knew all your secrets like the fact that you had been playing (sport) for years, how you had won two trophies, the fact that this is where you spent most of your time at, and so on and so forth.

While watching the game, Michael couldn't help but to feel a deep sense of pride, relief and great joy at seeing how passionately you played and how much fun you were having. And you were so talented at it. The other team didn't stand a chance. You had grown so much since you were little. To this day his own actions still haunted him.

He hurt you. He 'scarred' you. And, although you continued doing what you loved, you had still felt the need to hide it from him, for years. He did that. He had made you feel so anxious and insecure that you felt the need to hide your greatest passion from him.

What kind of father does that to their child?

Unsurprisingly, your team won the game, and Michael couldn't be more proud or excited. Once the crowd and commotion calmed down, he patiently waited on you to exit the changing rooms. The way you hid yourself...

Michael gazed around at all the happy families congratulating and/or comforting their kids. It crushed his heart thinking about the sheer loneliness you expressed after the game ended and you had no one to celebrate with aside from your team mates.

When you came out of the changing room, Michael straightened his posture and faced you. It took you a minute, but eventually you looked up, saw him, and froze. A gasp escaped your mouth while your backpack fell from your shoulder to your shaken hand.

Michael's chest ached at the sight of your frightened, horrified face as you frantically looked around as if for an escape. Quickly he approached you and said in sign language, "That was a good game."

"Dad," You stepped away from him, panicked, "I-it's not what you think-I... I-I was just-I'm..."

You were scared, Michael realized, guilt beating on him like a hundred hammers. He waved his hand at you to get your attention, "Why didn't you tell me you were playing (sport)?"

"I..." You stare at him in great panic that melted into sadness and fear. You dropped your backpack and covered your face, saying brokenly, "I'm sorry, dad. I... I didn't mean to. Don't be mad, please, I-I... I'll stop playing it."

What? Micheal rushed to you and went to gently pull your hands away from your flushed face. What had he done? "No, I'm not mad. Please stop panicking. I'm not mad. Not at all."

Confused, you look at him through tear colored vision.

"I just found out you were playing (sport). You even have trophies. (y/n), why did you keep this from me?"

"Because," You winced, "You said I wasn't good at it. You... You hate me for it. I... I just wanted to be happy. I... I didn't mean to..."

He couldn't believe how upset you were, and all because he found out that you were doing what you loved. Marching up to you, Michael pulled you into a big hug that lasted for several minutes. When he noticed you calm down, he moved back a bit and explained.

"I was an idiot back then. I never should have said those things to you, (y/n). I've always felt bad for how I made you feel. You're not bad at (sport) and I never wanted you to stop playing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I made you feel this way."

You were shocked speechless, so Michael pulled you into another hug. You hugged back, relieved. He wasn't mad at you. He apologized. Everything was going to be alright.

Bo Sinclair

Bo lived in a very, very small town. Everyone knew each other and every piece of information that existed on the surface. Rumors spread and gossip filled the air like pollen. So it didn't take very long for Bo to learn that you had been practicing engineering with the car shop just down the road.

At first Bo had been ecstatic. You were still interested in engineering? He thought you didn't want to do that anymore; you said so yourself. Ever since the incident when you were little, you hadn't helped him with anything physically constructive- not even stuff as simple as hanging a picture on the wall.

Pretty much everyone praised you and said that you were doing a tremendous job. Your skill towards fixing vehicles was a natural, golden talent. You were an impressive, fast learner and everyone loved and appreciated you.

But when Bo tried to approach you about this exciting news, he was confused to hear you deny all of it. You shut his exclamations off and said that the towns people were lying. You claimed to have nothing to do with engineering. Yes, you hung around the car shop, but nothing was going on, you were just bored.

Bo didn't understand it. Why would you lie to him about this? He knew that the towns people weren't making this up- just ask the guy who took a picture of you and your buddies covered in grease while working on a truck engine. You looked so happy. Why was that something to lie about?

For the life of him, Bo could not figure out what was going on with you. Obviously you were lying to him, but he couldn't get you to explain why. It was as if you were completely and utterly avoiding him now, and it was driving him crazy.

So Bo reached out for help.

"Well," Your engineering teacher said in a tense tone, "I talked to em an' they said it's 'cause they don't wanna make ya mad."

"Huh?" Bo shook his head in exaggeration. What did that even mean?

Your teacher gave him a wearisome look, "I think they're afraid you're gonna blow a gasket on em if they do somethin' wrong. I take it that... you got a short temp?"

At that question, Bo was immediately rushed with memories of the past, and he found himself feeling overwhelmed with guilt and dread. That time he got mad at you when you were little, you didn't just give up on engineering. You gave up on everything that had to do with him. Was this why? Because you were afraid that he would get mad at you if you messed up or made a mistake?

You were afraid of his temper.

Coming to realization, Bo spent quite a while trying to figure out how he should approach you. He wasn't the best at emotions or having deep conversations. If he tried to explain himself he feared he would just say something stupid and cause you to be more upset with him.

So he waited for the perfect moment.

A couple weeks later, Bo dragged you to his shop to show you something that caused your mouth to fall open in awe. "Ram 3500, 2018. An' look at'er license plate."

Gasping the name of the state the enormous truck was from, you faced your dad with absolute excitement and disbelief, "Why's it here?"

"Ah, a little transmission trouble on the road," Bo smiled and slung an arm around your shoulder, "Nice huh? She's a beauty. Needs lotta' work, fast, an' I want 'you' to help me."

"What?" Your behavior changed drastically, "Dad-"

"Look, I've already heard all the gossip. I've seen ya work at the shop. I know you know what you're doin', (y/n)," Bo went to stand in front of you. "But what I don't understand is why ya don't wanna work with me."

"It's not... I just..." You sighed and looked at the ground, lost on what to say. A pain filled your chest as you admitted quietly, "I ain't perfect, dad, I... I make mistakes."

"And?" Bo pushed for a better answer.

His impatience and lack of understanding made you snap, "An' you can't handle that. Every time I mess up even the tiniest bit, you get mad at me. What do you expect me to do, huh? I'm only (age)."

Going silent, Bo relaxed upon learning what exactly your insecurity was. You were avoiding him because you were afraid of him getting mad at you for making mistakes. He did this. He put this fear in you, made you this way. And because of that, you were both teetering on the edge of complete life separation.

"(y/n)," Bo reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, "I'm sorry."

Your entire body froze.

"I... never meant to make ya feel this way. I know ya ain't perfect. You're still learnin' an' you've got a long ways to go, but... I wanna be there for you, (y/n). I wanna help you. I wanna watch ya grow, an' I can't do that if ya ain't around... I'm better than I used to be. So if you mess up, I ain't gettin' mad. I'm helping you, because that's what fathers do."

Shot by your dad's moving words, you find yourself staring at him for a long moment before a large smile bloomed across your face. "Right dad," You say, "Let's take a look at her."

With his heart skipping over the moon, Bo grinned and thanked the very stars themselves for this moment, and he lead you to your first shared project since you were a mere, little kid.

Hannibal Lecter

One night Hannibal got bored and lonely and decided to go to Will's house which was where you liked to spend lots of time at. He didn't mind you staying with Will, but some times he himself felt a little bit left out.

When he arrived at Will's house, he quietly made way up the stairs of the porch and temporarily paused just outside of the window. Casually peeking in, Hannibal spotted Will sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper while you stood in front of the stove in the kitchen. Your sleeves were clumsily rolled up and you had a apron on.

The motions of your arms and the state of the kitchen did not lie. You were cooking. You were quite literally cooking food right in front of him. Hannibal couldn't help but to release a small shudder of mixed emotions. It had been years since he last saw you cook- years since he demolished your feelings and forced you away from the passion you both once shared.

To see you cooking now? It made Hannibal erupt with questions and emotions. How long had this been going on? What were you cooking? Why were you cooking? How come he didn't know? Were you happy? Was this why you always spent so much time with Will?

Speaking oh whom, Hannibal watched as you handed out a spoon to which Will stood up to receive. Taking a taste of the spoon, Will made a bright face and reached out for a container of spice. You smiled, laughed and nodded, happily going to add some of the recommended spice to your dish.

Grinning, Hannibal couldn't help but to feel great pride. So, you could handle personal opinions and constructive criticism? What an astounding chef you turned out to be, and you looked so happy too.

Regaining his composure, Hannibal straightened his hair and went to knock on the door.

It took over five minutes for Will to answer.

By that time, things had grown to be rather chaotic. Now only did Will claim that you had gone to bed, but that he also was the one responsible for the late night meal.

Hannibal knew better though.

Whilst you pretended to sleep in the guest bedroom, Will and Hannibal stood in the kitchen gazing around at all your hard work.

"They told me what happened when they were little," Will said, a disappointed look on his face, "How could you say that to them, doc?"

Hannibal stared down at your unfinished dish, his heart clenching in memory of the past. "I spoke out of impulse. I didn't mean to cause them this much insecurity." To think you would go out of your way to lie to him. "How long has this affair been going on?"

"I don't know. Few years?" Will shrugged, "I was cooking macaroni one day, they asked to help and... The ship set sail, I guess."

"You reignited their flame," Hannibal huffed and smiled, "I'm grateful."

"Ever thought about apologizing?" Will asked.

"I have," Hannibal said softly, "However, they refuse to have anything to do with cooking."

"You told them that they were a horrible cook and a waste of time in the kitchen. What did you expect would happen?"

Hannibal bowed his head in shame. He hurt you, more than he had ever imagined. After all these years he believed that you had moved on and found different passions, but instead you clung to cooking and desperately sought hiding it from him because of fear. What kind of father was he to do that to you?

The next morning after the drive home, Hannibal kept you in the car to say, "(y/n). I know it was you who cooked at Wills the other night. I saw."

Having been dreading this exact conversation, you flushed darkly and turned your head away in great shame, sadness and fear. "I'm sorry."

"Please do not apologize," Hannibal cursed at himself for how anxious he made you feel, "I am more grateful than you could ever know."

That stirred a confused reaction from you.

"(y/n), you do not have to accept my apology, but I want you to promise me that you will continue to do what you enjoy, especially if it is cooking." Hannibal looked to you hopefully. "Seeing how happy you were... You have no idea how much joy it brought me. I thought I had destroyed your passion, but..."

Now completely facing your dad, your mouth was agape and your heart pounding furiously with emotions.

"I've always regretted what I said to you that day. It was rude and improper, and most certainly untrue. You are an astounding cook and I'm proud of you. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but, even if you do not wish to forgive me, I hope that you will always continue to do what you love."

Looking at your dad with watery eyes, you blinked and fought for the right words to respond with. All these years you had been terrified of your dad's wrath and disapproval when it came to cooking. He was right, he did hurt you, and the pain was still lingering inside you.

Even though what he said now brought you some form of relief and comfort, you couldn't help but to still feel a little bit of lingering hurt. "I... I need time." You reply quietly.

Hannibal nodded in understanding, "And time you shall have. I will always be here to support you."

-

If I made a part three, it could be about the reader still suffering some anxiety while doing their passion around their dad. And the slasher dads' will be nothing but happy, supportive and proud. You know, just casual comfort and fluff.

[maria-writes-fics]

Could you like write Bo and a teen kid bonding over mechanic stuff? Like Bo teaching them how to repair cars and just being kinda wholesome?

You know me

I can't just write bo being wholesome hehehehe

But you know what sure

Yay, your dad was teaching you something you had been helping him out with for years.

Grabbing every tool and or screw he needed into he had you under the car with him one Friday night.

He was laughing at how you held your tools or well as he adjusted it to his liking

He helps the entire time letting you do it by yourself

Once y'all were done with the car he gave it to you and said the first truly nice words he said to you "Good job son/daughter you made me proud"

[salem-the-puppet]

Dad Bo

Dad Bo has a hold on me

Warning: child abuse

"Yea sure you weren't the best kid"

"But being locked up cuz of a stupid paper assignment was crazy "

"Dad lock me in my closet cuz I didn't get my school work done"

"Like what? "

You say this as you were on the phone with someone. Not knowing that bo was behind that door.

The door open quietly before your phone was smash against the wall

"I could treat you like my parents did to me if I am so fucking horbale" he said way to calmly as he grabs you and drags you to the kitchen.

"Fucking eat before I fucking regret it" he said leaving you alone again

Tag list:

@oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid

@thatweirdbitchjax

Let me know if you wanna be tagged

[msookyspooky]

Stu is definitely the guy to rock the ferris wheel cart with a grin on his face when your stopped at the tippy top and Billy is hanging on for dear life yelling at him and 100% gonna beat his ass as soon as their off the ride.

[slushi-chan]

Ok but imagine Bo Sinclair with a kid/s imagine him building a treehouse or something for his kid or kids, or him building a swingset in the yard for them, or hanging up a tire swing for them

[beauregard-sinclair-ask]

Bo my dad had a unexpected suddenly stroke and im terrified:(

M’ sorry to hear about that about yer daddy sweetheart. Were ya able t’ get him t’ a Hospital?

[small-sinclair]

Broken Reflection

Whumptober 5: Sunburn

Dad!Bo Sinclair x daughter/child!reader (5-6 years old)

Tw: yelling, Bo being a bit aggressive, soft ending

Healing Salve

“I told you over and over to stay away from Vincent’s wax melter!” He snaps, his anger building up. “You have any idea how stupid you are? Any clue?”

You could hear him yelling from the stairs as he came up to the bathroom where you were. You were shaking as you tried to put aloe on your burns, but tears stung your eyes and made it blur. You didn’t mean to be that close to the wax melter; you just wanted to look inside it! How were you supposed to know that was hot to touch and could burn you when you rested your arm against the metal? How are you supposed to learn if you never try it? Bo told you time and time, over and over, not to go into Vincent’s workspace without him, but you were curios today and went down in secret. You always wanted to see what it looked like on the inside, so who was Bo to be mad at because he never told you?

“Answer me!” His shouts, his hand hitting the door, causing you jump. “You’re just as stupid as your mother! Didn’t know how to listen to a simple thing... are you dumb or something?” You tried not to flinch when he yelled, but your shoulder jerked and tensed as he yelled, “Now, I gotta make sure you ain’t leavin’ dis house! ‘Cause I thought you were better than dat!” His eyes harden when your eyes didn’t look up at his. “Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you!”

His hand turned you around and grabbed a hold of your face, forcing you to look up—

Bo’s angry blue eyes broken when a sob escaped your lips, crying out, “I’m sorry, Papa! I’m sorry!”

Hsi tight grip loosens, and he lets go as he steps away from you. He looked down at his hands, realizing they were shaking, then looked at himself in the mirror on the wall in the hall. He didn’t see himself; he saw Trudy and his father with a victory smile as if they were saying that they taught him well. He was becoming like his own parents, and it burned him.

“Sunshine,” he breathed, his eyes softening. “Darlin’, I-I didn’t mean...shit, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He took slow steps and knelt in front of your trembling form. “My God—Papa’s so sorry. He didn’t mean for his anger to be like that. He’s sorry...he’s so sorry.” His hands still shook as he held your arms, feeling like you were glass. He’ll do better; he has to do better.

And he compared you to your mother—

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, holding back a sob. “I’m sorry—”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he hushes softly, his fingers being gentle as he looked over you. “Dida get hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head as fat tears fell slow.

“Hey, hey,” he cupped his large, calloused hand over your cheek, thumbing away a tear. “It’ll be right. It’ll be right, I swear.” He scooped you up in his arms, holding you tightly as he stood up, and takes the healing salve. “I’ll take care of it...I’m here. Papa’s here.”

[getmeoutofhell]

NSFW Breeding HC

Warnings: this includes unprotected sex, pregnancy, fem! reader. none of these gifs are mine, credits to the owners.

Includes: Billy Loomis, Horny The Clown, Stu Marcher, Thomas Hewitt, Patrick Bateman, Hannigram, Bo Sinclair, Jeepers Creepers, Art The Clown.

ᵇⁱˡˡʸ ˡᵒᵒᵐⁱˢ:

He’s about 50/50 when it comes to that sort of thing. Of course, he would like to breed you, but he doesn’t want you to end up pregnant. He doesn’t want kids until he’s around 25 or something. If you’re on birth control, then this will be much more common. “Come on, just one more round. You can take it,” he teases you, wanting to challenge your willpower. You lie there and let him use you.

ʰᵒʳⁿʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷⁿ:

He’s the worst one on this list. His name gives you all the information you need. Archie will tie you down and use the time to breed you. You will end up pregnant because he doesn’t understand what protection means. No, he won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Even though he can be a pain, he still loves you very much. You will bear his children, and he will be a good father.

ˢᵗᵘ ᵐᵃʳᶜʰᵉʳ:

My poor baby Stu, he’s so loving and caring… just fucking kidding. Stu is a real natural freak. This obviously means he's going to breed you. He'll make sure you’re comfortable first before making any big moves, but after that, it's wraps. A little Stu will be on the way since he can’t last more than five minutes. “I can’t help it; you just feel too good, man.” You try to reason with him, but that still won't work. So, I hope you enjoy having a baby!

ᵗʰᵒᵐᵒˢ ʰᵉʷⁱᵗᵗ:

Of course, he wants a family with you, but he uses that as an excuse to cum in you. Your stomach will be full because he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. He may act like he doesn’t care, but deep down, Thomas is just a big baby—so he does care for you. He keeps you in the house and does what he knows best, especially once you train him. Eventually, you will end up pregnant, and he will be more than joyful about having a child with you.

ᵖᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵇᵃᵗᵉᵐᵃⁿ:

The main reason he wants to breed with you is so that you have his child. He believes that worrying about his life outside of work gives the impression that he has everything under control. However, you know that he doesn’t, meaning you won’t have his child until he admits to himself that he has flaws. "I'm in touch with humanity. I know what I'm talking about... dear," he says. You just roll your eyes at him. He either doesn't understand, or maybe he does but pretends not to. You're not sure.

ʰᵃⁿⁿⁱᵍʳᵃᵐ:

They would take turns, creating a situation where you couldn't tell who was who, if you know what I mean. Each time they release, they switch places, forcing you to adjust once again. No, they won't purposely try to get you pregnant, but it would happen naturally. You won't know which one of them is the father, but they won't care as long as the child is theirs. They take good care of you, and when the baby arrives, they won't let either you or the infant out of their sight.

ᵇᵒ ˢⁱⁿᶜˡᵃⁱʳ:

Oh yea, you’re speaking his language. If you let him, he could keep you busy for hours. He might even tie you down if you make him mad enough. With just a snap of his fingers, you find yourself under his control. Soon, a baby could be on the way; he’s definitely a family man. His brothers will be thrilled for both of you as you celebrate the news of your pregnancy. “Darlin’, let’s make another one.” Oh no.

ʲᵉᵉᵖᵉʳˢ ᶜʳᵉᵉᵖᵉʳˢ:

You will have a bunch of babies. He will give you a lot of little creepers, and it’s not like you have a choice in the matter; you're the one getting involved with him. The pregnancy takes a while to progress because he’s not human, and neither are your babies. You’ll be pregnant for about a year before you give birth to his offspring. However, you don’t regret it; he knows exactly what he’s doing when it’s just the two of you. He will be a pretty good dad.

ᵃʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷⁿ:

If "left to get the milk" were a person, it would be art. Oh my lord, he doesn’t seem to care if you end up pregnant—or at least he acts like he doesn’t. With the little pale girl around, you both already feel like parents. But now that you’re having a child of your own because someone (art) can’t pull out properly, things have changed. When you show him the pregnancy test, he jumps up and down with joy, then leaves you alone. He’s so strange.

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers as fathers with a child reader.

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.

Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART ONE.

Freddy Krueger

It felt like he had been a completely different person when he did it. Work had been stressing him out, parts of the house needed fixing, and he was a single parent. He wasn't getting enough rest. Eventually every little thing began to get to him.

Freddy hadn't been in his right mind when it happened. You loved making pictures for him, and one day you decided to nail some pictures on the wall by yourself. Not only had you nailed the pictures too low, but you had also accidentally made a large hole in the wall.

The incident had caused Freddy to explode. Not only did he yell at you for ruining the wall, but he ended up tearing one of your pictures in half. "I don't need this shit," He had shouted at you, "You think I feel like dealing with that? You ruined my wall, (y/n), and now I gotta fix it. I just- I can't... Ugh."

Freddy had avoided you for the remainder of the night- not because he was mad at you but because he was afraid he 'would' get mad at you again. It was a bad idea. He should have apologized for the way he acted. Because the next day when he woke up and went into his office, he noticed that every picture you had drawn him had been torn from the nails on the wall, shredded up and shoved in the trash.

Horror, heartache and regret immediately consumed his guilty conscience, and he rushed to find you. You were in your room playing with toys. It nearly destroyed him to see the way you flinched and scurried to hide behind a laundry basket.

"(y/n)," Freddy went to kneel in front of you, "Sweetie, what did you do? Why did you tear up daddy's pictures?"

"Because," You whimpered, keeping your teary face hidden, "You said you didn't need them. You... You tore it in half. I... I'm sorry, daddy. Hic... I-I-I'm sorry th-that I-I made a hole in the wall, an-and I'm sorry th-that you h-h-hate my pictures."

The amount of sadness, regret and complete and utter crushing guilt that fell upon Freddy was suffocating. Hearing your broken apology and seeing the way you were shaking caused him to be so disappointed with himself. He couldn't believe what he had done. Why did he do that? He would never do anything to cause you to feel this way, and he 'loved' your pictures.

And yet look what he caused. Not only did he hurt your feelings by being cruel, but he lost all of his near and dear pictures- even the ones you made when you were a toddler. They were all destroyed.

"I-I'll never color again," You swore in a loud whine.

"Oh no, sweetie, no," Freddy attempted to get closer to you, frowning heavily when you flinched at his touch, "Please don't do that. Listen- hey, look at me. I need you to look at me."

And when you did look at him, Freddy felt like punching himself in the face. You looked so scared, so sad and unbearably hurt. Oh gosh, what had he done? Why?

"Oh (y/n)..." Freddy sighed, shaking his head, "I'm so sorry. Yesterday I... I was just in such a bad mood an-and not because of you but because.... Look, (y/n), daddy didn't mean to act the way he did, and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I yelled at you and I'm especially sorry that I did that to your picture. I regret it so much, you have no idea. Please... I'm sorry. I 'love' your pictures (y/n), please don't stop making them."

As Freddy eagerly waited for a brightened response from you, his heart sunk from his chest when you turned your back to him and quietly mumbled, "I wanna play with my toys please."

Excuses and more apologies sat on Freddy's tongue, but he denied saying them for he believed that you simply needed time to forgive him. "Ok sweetie," He got up to leave, "If you need anything, come get daddy, ok?"

"Ok, daddy."

While, over time, you did warm back up to your father, you never did say that you forgave him. And Freddy never got another picture. And he would never, ever stop regretting what he had done.

Michael Myers

Michael was overwhelmed by the frustration work caused. Due to lack of loyal employees, he was forced to work over-time and pull extra shifts. He was sore, tired and angry. It felt like he was the only person at work who ever did anything right.

And that anger built and built until it eventually brought out the worst in him and made him do something that he would regret for the rest of his life.

You loved (sport) and had been outside practicing with some of the neighbors. Michael had been inside attempting to relax when suddenly one of the living room windows shattered. He flinched and rushed to his feet, red clouding his vision when he saw a familiar ball on the floor.

On his way to the door, you ran inside breathless and gasping, "Ah! I'm sorry, daddy, it's my fault. I-I accidentally threw the ball too hard and-"

Michael, with his emotional bridge broken, raised his hand to cut you off. A seething scowl took place upon his face, and he began to lecture you out in sign language. "I don't wanna hear excuses. Why were you playing so close to the house? You should know better. Now look at what I have to fix. All I want is to relax and now I can't because of your stupid (sport). Why do you even play (sport)? You're not even good at it."

Even though his words were literally silent, the crushed look on your face explained that you knew exactly what he had said. Michael ignored your crestfallen face and quiet sobs and demanded that you help him clean up the glass before sending you to your room. Yes, your friends had watched the whole thing.

Michael's seething attitude didn't diminish until the next day after he got some good sleep. He soon realized that he felt bad for how he treated you yesterday and decided that he wanted to apologize. But when he went to your room, he was stricken to see all of your favorite sports gear sitting in a trashcan. (sport) merchandise and even pictures you drew were also in the trashcan.

Overcome with concern, Michael wandered to your bed where you were hiding underneath your blanket. When he tapped on you, you twitched but otherwise kept pretending to be asleep. So he tried again.

You caved and lowered the blanket. Michael didn't like the way you winced at him, your eyes squinted as if you were expecting the worst out of him. He quickly used sign language to ask, "What is going on? Why are you throwing all your (sport) stuff away?"

"I..." Your voice was hesitant and quiet as you gazed away, "I don't like (sport) anymore. I... I-I'm not good at it, an-and you h-hate me playing it, an-and I'm sorry that I broke the window... I'm sorry, daddy. I promise-huh... I-I-I'll never play (sport) again."

What? Michael's eyes nearly popped out, regret, guilt and fear clouding his soul. Oh no. What had he done? You didn't like (sport) anymore? And all because he had overreacted and told you that you weren't any good at it. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. It couldn't be like this. You couldn't stop doing what you loved all because he was stupid and having a bad day.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, Michael quickly explained with sign language, "But you are good at (sport). Don't quit. I was having a bad day, I didn't mean to say that stuff. You don't have to quit. I'm sorry that I said that. Don't quit playing (sport), you love it."

Your lips wobbled and you turned your head away, your voice a broken whisper, "Ca-an I sleep some more before school. Please?"

Your lack of an answer both irritated Michael and broke his heart. He became angry at himself and regretful about what he had done. He wanted to talk to you more about it, but decided not to. Hopefully you would think about his apology and take all of your (sport) stuff out of the trash.

But, unfortunately for Michael, you never did get back into (sport), and he never got to stop feeling guilty about it.

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

Bo could admit that, on the surface, he had a very fragile temper. Ever since he had you he had tried his hardest to hide all the ugly parts of himself, especially his anger. Any time he began to lose his temper, he usually stomped off somewhere by himself to maybe punch something and take a moment to breathe.

So far he had done a fairly decent job.

Up until today that was.

It had been a long week. It was summer. Tourists were pouring in at random needing fast work done to their vehicles. The gas station and church needed extra attention. It was hot outside. And, once again, Bo had a very fragile temper.

It happened when he was elbow deep in truck externals. Ever since you could walk you had always been his little helper. Already at your age your dream was to be an engineer, but you still had a lot to learn. And the fact that you had a lot to learn is what caused Bo to snap.

With the impatience of the person waiting on their vehicle to be fixed, Bo also became impatient. You had been trying to help him, bringing him tools he needed.

Whenever you brought him one too many of the wrong tools, he ended up throwing a wrench and his hat to the ground. "What is your fuckin' problem?" He shouted at you, "Are ya stupid? If ya can't bring me what I need then get the fuck outta here."

You had flinched, tears immediately filling your eyes as you carefully backed up. Bo continued to give you a serious, livid glare that scared you, his words ringing in your head and shattering your heart. He watched you run away, his chest pounding with guilt he ignored as he finished his work.

Bo didn't see you for the remainder of the day, but he did check in with Vincent to make sure that you were alright. As night fell, he became more calm and relaxed, and soon he felt absolutely horrible for how he treated you. He sat on his bench rubbing his forehead in distress for almost an hour wishing he could take it all back.

He had shown you one of his worst sides. And it had hurt you. Now what was he supposed to do? He called you 'stupid'.

Unfortunately for Bo, he didn't get a chance to apologize that night for Vincent soon brought him a note explaining that Lester had taken you home with him for the weekend. Gosh darn it. He really wanted to apologize.

But his apology had to wait for- not one week or two weeks- but a whole month. That's how badly you were trying to avoid him. It was more than enough time for Bo to sit and think about his mistakes.

When Lester finally brought you home, Bo was grateful that you didn't appear to be angry or sad. You rushed to him and gave him a big, welcoming hug that soothed his core, "Daddy!"

"Hey, critter bug," Bo chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Missed you. Guess what? Some ol' couple brought in a beat up station wagon. Needs fixin'. Wanna help?"

"No thank ya," You said casually, leaning away from him, "I don't wanna be a engineer anymore."

Bo's world stopped rotating. "What?" He gave you a stabbed look, "But ya love doin' that stuff?"

"Not anymore," Your voice turned into a lightly disappointed mumble.

Bo's mouth went completely dry. He didn't know what to do or say. All of this time apart he thought that you would have gotten over his temper tantrum, but apparently you 'really' got over it. He had been the boulder that crushed your dreams. And it...

It almost made him wanna cry.

Bo swallowed, trying not to seem too beaten down, "But... Who's gonna be my helper?"

You smiled and pointed to the man standing beside the truck, "Uncle Lester will."

"Right..." Bo nodded, his chest aching with guilt, self-hatred, regret and sadness, "Right."

You never helped him with another car again.

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal liked to believe that he was the ultimate best at keeping his temper under control. He never got mad at you or expressed any negative emotions towards you. If you needed to be taught a lesson, then he would sit with you and have a firm, constructive conversation about how you needed to improve.

Your bond was strong and healthy and it made Hannibal proud. You even took after him by wanting to be a professional cook. And Hannibal was ecstatic to help you carry that dream into reality.

But one day all of his pride, arrogance and content came to an end.

You had woken up before him that morning and had snuck to the kitchen to make him breakfast. However, things went south and you accidentally ended up breaking one of his rarest, most treasured dishes- a dish that was literally one of it's only kind on the whole planet. And it upset him.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy," You had apologized desperately, "I-I just thought since you liked the plate so much you would also like eating off of it. I didn't mean to break it!"

Hannibal, his heart racing and his nerves burning with anger, had said almost too vastly, "And what lead you to believe that I would enjoy such horrible cooking on my most treasured dish? You knew these pieces were not meant to be eaten off of, yet you disrespected me anyway."

"Horrible cooking?" You murmured.

Because Hannibal was hurt, he couldn't resist the urge to make you hurt as well. "Yes. You are an awful cook. Your presence in this kitchen has always been a waste of time."

The way your eyes widened with hurt and how your hands immediately flew to your chest would be a sight that haunted Hannibal for the rest of his life. Slowly your eyes closed and you began to cry, your hands going to cover your face as you ran away, a sobbed "I'm sorry" echoing through the hall.

Instead of feeling satisfied that he hurt your feelings as intended, Hannibal immediately felt remorseful and guilty. Goodness. He knew that you were young and didn't mean to break his plate. He just... He just treasured the dish so much and now it was ruined forever. He let his emotions get to him, and he hurt you in the process. While it was your fault, he didn't blame you. You were innocent and you just wanted to make him happy.

After he cleaned up his broken dish, Hannibal searched for you and found you snuggled up on the couch. He sat in front of you and spoke calmly, "I'm sorry for getting angry at you. It wasn't my intention. You were just trying to make me breakfast and wound up making a mistake. It happens to all of us."

"I'm sorry..." You whimpered, obviously still upset.

"It is alright," Hannibal reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder. "I'll get started on breakfast."

"Can I help?" You asked hopefully.

Hannibal gave you a hesitant grimace, "I think it would be best if you skipped helping me in the kitchen for today."

Instantly your eyes puffed red and turned watery. Hannibal left you alone to exhale your emotions. He knew that you would be upset for a while, but he too was also upset. He just needed some time is all.

But apparently he was wrong yet again.

After that day, you never helped Hannibal in the kitchen again. For weeks after the incident, you didn't even eat the food that he cooked. It was like you banned yourself from the kitchen entirely. He had tried to coax you into helping him, but you always found excuses not to.

Soon Hannibal learned that he had destroyed your passion for cooking by making you believe that you were a terrible chef. And he regretted it so much that it was nearly unbearable. Hannibal couldn't handle mistakes he couldn't fix.

And no matter how hard he tried, he knew that he could never mend your feelings that he severed.

-

In part two I planned to age up the reader and have them secretly doing their passion behind their dad's back. And the slasher will find out and be like "what, I thought you gave up on that! Holy sh*t, I'm so happy". And the reader will be pleasantly surprised.

[maria-writes-fics]

If you want Dad Bo you can request him still!

I might have left the shaslrher fandom due to personal reasons

But I wanna continue writing dad version of the Sinclair

Bo is the most popular

Btw @oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid was the first person to request dad bo I believe

So do plz request whatever you want with Dad Bo but you must know I won't write kicky shit

[small-sinclair]

I need a part two

The Sinclair brothers have work to do. A couple of tourists adventure into town. But unfortunately after they've been hunted down and cleaned up, the brothers come across more work and more problems. That being the now abandoned baby in the car.

Tw: Blood and gore(they kill obv), Bo is Bo, Vincent mentioned, Lester mentioned, they're slashers what do you expect, they won't kill the baby obv, the baby is a girl or AFAB

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Bo looked out of the window as he sipped his morning coffee. Lester had just called and told him about the pair of tourists that he had guided to the town. He squinted and looked down the hill at the truck. The couple steps out of the car and looks around their surroundings.

He places his mug down on the table and steps back from the window. Lester has done his part. Now will be Bo, then Vincent...

Bo scoffs at the thought but picks up his cap and walks out of the house. He begins his way down the hill and towards the oblivious victims.

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Bo peeked around the corner as the tourists walk around the ghost town. He has done this dozens of times, he knows what he is doing... But he still feels a tiny bit of hesitation. Why?

He wonders but quickly gathers himself and walks over to the wandering couple.

"Hello folks! What are y'all doing here?" He says with a strong southern accent.

The couple turns around. The woman slightly flinches at the sudden sounds of the strange man, but the husband only wipes away sweat from his forehead and speaks.

"Heya... We were looking for a gas station... You know where one would be?" The man asks from Bo with a heavy breathe from the heat. The woman stays behind him and looks at Bo with a confused and alert look.

"Of course! I'm the mechanic of the town. What do y'all need help with?" Bo asks with a forced chuckle.

The man gulps and nods. The heat is getting to him and the woman sways around with impatientancy. "Yeah umm... I think we blew a tire. Would've taken care of it by myself but we don't have a spare... Think you could be of assistance?" The tourist groans.

"Might need some gas too..." He sighs under his breath with his hands on his hips.

"I can do that. Just follow me. The gas station is just around the corner!" Bo crosses his arms and lets out a forced smile. After his words he slowly walks past the pair and makes his way towards the station.

The tourists look at each other for a moment and make eye contact. The woman shrugs and the man sighs in response. Soon the man follows Bo as his wife walks back to the car, ready to drive it to the station.

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As soon as the pair of men step inside the gas station, Bo takes a screwdriver and easily stabs the mans neck. The attacker covers his victims mouth and gently moves the bleeding man to lay on the cement floor. Bo slightly pants as he looks down at the victim bleeding to death.

He sighs and pulls the screwdriver out in order to make the bleeding even worse. It's not even useful since the tourist is long gone...

The sounds of the truck pulling up to the station make Bo quickly turn around and look out of the see through door. He huffs in annoyance and slowly walks out of the station.

The woman hops out of the drivers seat and steps towards the mechanic at the door. She stills in her steps, a couple of meters away from the strange man. "Ummm... Where is my husband?" She asks with confusion and slight awkwardness.

"He's inside, looking at my products... Need any help with the car or would you like to go inside...? It's pretty hot out here..." He chuckles as he holds the bloodied screwdriver behind his back.

The woman sighs as she thinks over and looks back at the truck behind her.

She turns back around to look at the man in front of her. "Let's go inside." She akwardly chuckles.

Bo nods and steps aside from the door to make a way for the woman.

She smiles and walks to the door.

The tourist walks inside the station with the murderer behind her...

Bo notices her movements slowly coming to a stop. She freezes at the sight of her husband dead on the floor and his blood covering the ground.

She gasps and Bo quickly takes couple of steps forward and wraps his arms around the woman. She screams but Bo covers her mouth. She lets out muffled screams and protests as Bo holds her in her place.

The attacker lets out a annoyed and frustrated sigh and roughly pushes the woman to the ground. She violently hits the ground and Bo moves after her. Before she can even act, Bo has stabbed her neck as well.

She gurgles as she bleeds from her neck. Bo pulls the screwdriver out of her neck vein and the blood pools on the floor with a fast pace. She gurgles on the blood and struggles around in pain. Bo stares down at her with a hard gaze. She stares into his eyes as she takes her last breath and gives up. Her body stills but the blood keeps flowing out.

Bo tiredly sighs and stands up from the cold body.

He looks down at the mess around himself and huffs in annoyance. He needs a smoke.

Without a second thought he walks out of the station and for the truck outside. Bo walks for the passenger side door and roughly opens it. He begins to search around and toss stuff from his way as he looks for a pack.

As he digs around the front seats he suddenly hears a whimper from the backseat. With worry and shock Bo slowly turns his head and looks at the backseat.

And there it is. A baby in it's safety seat.

Bo's mouth is open with shock and confusion. He has frozen in his spot as he just stares at the little passenger. Before he can even think, he acts and moves over to the baby. Bo unbuckles the young child and picks her up. She cooes at the man holding her. Bo doesn't speak but moves with difficulty as he climbs out of the car and stands outside of it with the baby in his arms.

What is he supposed to do now?

He doesn't know. Bo feels large amount of confusion and slight panic.

Bo keep his "distance" from the baby, as much as possible as that is since he's holding it. The look on his face is one of confusion, panic and struggle. What the hell is he supposed to do?

Bo looks around, as if he's waiting for something, for someone, but all he gets is more of the cooing sounds from the child in his arms.

Bo looks back at the baby and he keeps breathing heavily. The baby only stares. Stupid kid, expecting something. Bo thinks and furrows his brows as he turns to look at the museum up the hill. Screw this. Vince can handle it. He scoffs and places the baby back into it's safety seat. Bo struggles but eventually figures out how to get the seat belt off the safety seat. He lifts the carrier with the baby in it and begins his way towards the House of Wax.

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finally had the energy to finish at least the first part.

PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT PT2!

i need ideas so please comment and criticism is appreciated

at first I started this story on my other acco but didn't like it (and it was my first work) so i decided to write it again with my other acco(this one)

i have daddy issues that's why this exists

[charliedawn]

Nurse brings their baby to work because they couldn't find the baby sitter. And the baby first word is dad. how would the slasher react to suddenly being called dad???

Michael Myers

Michael stares at the baby in your arms, his expression hidden behind his mask, but you can sense his surprise. He wasn’t expecting to be called dad, and the word feels foreign to him. For a moment, he freezes, his usual menacing air disappearing as he just stares. Slowly, he reaches out, his hand gently touching the baby's tiny fist. Though he doesn't say anything, there's a subtle shift in his body language, a quiet acceptance of the title.

Yeah. That baby is gonna have a great dad.

Jason Voorhees

Jason, who is often seen as a protector in his own way, might feel a wave of unexpected emotion. He has affection for them and the appellation dad did make him still for a second, reminding him of what he once longed for—a family and love. He crouches down slowly, tilting his head in that childlike way he sometimes does, unsure of how to react but clearly moved. Gently, he pats the baby’s head, trying to be as soft as possible, his usually violent hands becoming tender. Jason lost his father at a young age, and he would make sure that doesn’t happen with your baby.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy's reaction would be more layered. He'd laugh, finding the idea of being called dad by your child both amusing and strange. "Well, look who’s got great taste," he’d tease, his grin wide and mischievous. "Calling me daddy, huh ? Heck. I might start to like you, ya lil’ goblin !"

But deep down, there might be a flicker of something else—perhaps a sense of pride, though he’d never admit it. He’d probably try to play it off, cracking jokes, but you’d catch a glimmer in his eyes that says it means more than he lets on. Freddy wanted to be a father, before he died. But he never got the chance. So, he’d be secretly happy to keep an eye on your baby.

Chucky

Chucky would be taken aback, but his pride would swell almost instantly. "That's right, kid ! Dad's here !" he’d say with a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the title. He’d probably pick up the baby—carefully, for once—and start telling them how lucky they are to have him as their father. Chucky would take this as an ego boost and start acting like he's the best "dad" in the room, making jokes and pretending to give fatherly advice.

He would be the type of father to fight tooth and nail for his kid though—even though he pretends not to care.

Norman Bates

Norman would be stunned, unsure how to process being called dad. His face would soften as a mix of emotions flicker across his expression—uncertainty, fear, and a strange sense of warmth. He’s never really had anyone look to him in such a way before, and it would catch him off guard. "Dad…" he’d repeat softly, almost as if testing the word himself. There’s a brief moment where you see a tender, vulnerable side of him emerge. He’d be happy. But…He would also be conflicted because he’s never really had a father figure before and he would be afraid to not be up to the task…

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms would be overjoyed, his eyes lighting up with excitement as the baby calls him dad. He loves the idea of family and devotion, so this would feel like an affirmation of the bond he craves. "Did you hear that ? They called me dad !" Brahms would say, almost giddy with happiness. He’d immediately want to hold the baby, showing an unusually gentle side, savoring the moment as if it cements his place in your life even more deeply. He’d also wonder what it would be like to be YOUR partner…to be the real father of the child. Let me say, Brahms would actually buy you a wedding ring if that meant you would let him be yours and the baby’s family.

Bo Sinclair

Bo would smirk at first, his Southern drawl slipping out, "Well, ain’t that somethin’ ?" He’d be caught off guard, unsure if he should embrace it or brush it off. But deep down, the idea of being called dad would actually make him proud and happy. He’d probably roll with it, giving you a cocky smile, but you’d know from the way he looks at the baby that it’s gotten to him more than he’ll admit. He would wait until you are out of the room before kissing the baby’s forehead and whispering to it.

"Yeah…I’m yer Pa now, baby. And me and ya are gonna make yer mama so happy. You’ll see."

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wouldn’t show much outward reaction at first, his face hidden beneath his mask, but he’d pause. The idea of being called dad by your child would stir something deep inside, something warm and unfamiliar. He’d probably kneel down, gently offering his hand to the baby, who’d grab onto his fingers. In that small, quiet moment, Vincent would silently accept the title, his body language soft and careful.

He would also take a picture—to remember that moment forever.

Pennywise

Pennywise would be utterly caught off guard. He’d be playing his usual mischievous role, trying to get the baby to laugh with goofy faces or strange noises when the word dad slips out. He’d freeze, his sharp teeth momentarily retreating, eyes widening in shock. "Dad, huh? Well, that’s new," he’d chuckle, though the sound would be a bit strained, a mix of amusement and uncertainty. Deep down, Pennywise would be torn between his natural chaos-loving self and an unfamiliar, almost protective instinct. After all, the word dad is reserved for those who care, and that’s not something he’s entirely familiar with. He doesn’t care. About anything or anyone. Still, he might lean into it, thinking of it as a twisted joke between the two of you, but somewhere in the back of his mind, the idea of being important to someone would linger.

Pennywise *hesitates before taking the baby in his arms* : "…You’re one ugly baby. But…I guess that’s okay. That just means am gonna have to take care of you."

Penny

Penny, on the other hand, would be thrilled. The second the baby says dad, he’d light up with genuine excitement, clapping his hands and letting out a loud, gleeful laugh. "Oh, did you hear that ? I’m dad !" he’d exclaim, picking up the baby and twirling them around carefully. Unlike his brother, Penny wouldn’t be conflicted—he’d embrace the title with his usual boundless joy, seeing it as the highest honor. He’d probably carry the baby around for the rest of the day, boasting to the others with pride.

Jack Torrance

Jack's reaction to being called dad by your baby would be complex. At first, he might freeze, his mind racing between his past as a father and the present moment. A flash of old memories might cross his face—memories of his son, Danny, and how things went terribly wrong. He might force a smile, but it wouldn’t reach his eyes. "Dad, huh ?" he’d mutter, his voice tinged with a strange mix of affection and unease. There’s a part of him that wants to embrace the title, to be a better father this time, but there’s another part—the darker part—that’s afraid of what that responsibility could mean for him. You’d catch a glimpse of his inner struggle as he tries to keep it together, quietly stepping back while nervously running a hand through his hair.

Jack would likely need a moment to collect himself, caught between the warmth of being seen as a father again and the haunting fear of repeating his past mistakes.