#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.

[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.

—————————————————————————

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.

—————————————————————————

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.

—————————————————————————

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

[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.

[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"

[thewolffairytaler]

Farewell, my innocent Minnie - oneshot | Sinclair brothers x daughter reader

_____________________________

Summary: During the aftermath of the House of Wax being burned down, the police came to investigate the area. They find and try to communicate with a little girl who stands in the middle of the outside investigation area. So when the officers can not get information out of her or even get her to speak, Carley decides to tell them what she knows.

The metallic tang of blood and the stink of burned wax permeated Ambrose's air, clinging to everything, even the cool fall air, like a horrible perfume. The eerie stillness that had descended on the town following the chaotic finale of the previous night had been broken by the entrance of the police, a small force of county cops, and a few state troopers. The skeleton ruins of the House of Wax, a memorial to the atrocities that had taken place there, were blocked off by yellow tape. Sitting on the back of an ambulance were Carley and Nick, who were still suffering from the psychological and physical effects of their ordeal. Although paramedics carefully cleansed and bandaged their injuries, the deeper wounds—the ones that are not visible to the human eye were going to take considerably longer to heal.

As the officers attempted to piece together the disjointed puzzle that was Ambrose, the investigation was a chaotic process. The town itself was in ruins, a holdover from a bygone era. Only burnt fragments remained of the petrol station, which until lately had been the only indication of life. Many areas were covered in a coating of filthy muck, and the roads were hardly usable. The forensics team was also permitted to enter the church, which was the scene of the so-called "funeral" and the source of so many corpses as well, specifically, Trudy Sinclair.

Amidst the commotion, a lone figure stood out – a small girl, no older than six. She was clutching a white faded, plush dog backpack to her chest as if it was the only thing anchoring her to reality. Her wide, innocent eyes were filled with a vacant, haunted stare, a mirror reflecting the unspeakable terrors she had likely witnessed. One officer, a young man with a kind face and an abundance of patience, knelt before her, his voice soft and gentle. He offered her a bottle of water, a small gesture of comfort, but the girl remained unresponsive. He tried to coax her into speaking, asking her her name, if she knew her family, a series of simple questions that should have elicited some response. But she remained silent, her fingers gripping the fluffy fabric of her backpack plush as if her life depended on it. He eventually backed away, a look of frustrated concern on his face. It was clear to him that this little girl was in shock, a profound, debilitating state that had robbed her of her voice and her ability to comprehend the world around her.

With her eyes still coloured with blankness and that reality hadn't hit her yet, Carley added, "She's not going to tell you anything, not now anyway," her voice scratchy from the smoke. The girl's stillness cut through the confusion of the investigation as she and Nick watched from the back of the ambulance. "I saw her with Bo," she added, looking across at the charred remains of the wax museum. "In the church, during that… that funeral." The reminder of that hideous scene of wax figures and Bo's perverse eulogy for the deceased that he and Vincent had so brutally transformed into mannequins still sent a chill down her spine.

"He said she was his daughter," Carley spoke once more, her face furrowed in perplexity. "He referred to her as such, but I'm not sure whether it's true or not. Since I couldn't understand why he would have one, it's too crazy to be honest." Carley was doubtful herself, but she was unable to articulate why. The likeness, the way she handled her dog plush, or the fact that she was one of the few people who weren't wax may be the cause.

Nick, listening on the conversation, also turned to look at the little girl, his heart aching with a mixture of pity and anger. The entire town was a nightmare, an exercise in evil and human depravity, but to think this little girl has been subjected to that was making him sick. ”What's gonna happen to her?" he asked the sheriff, who was standing nearby, his face grim and wearied. "If she's Bo's kid... I don't want her ending up with the wrong people."

The sheriff sighed, his features etched with a combination of exhaustion and concern. "We'll try to get some kind of information out of her eventually. Once the shock wears off, she might be able to communicate, but if we can't find a relative... she'll end up in the system," he stated, his voice heavy. "An orphanage, probably. A foster home if we're lucky. But until then we just gotta wait, do what we can." The grim practicality of his words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the harsh realities that awaited children like her.

A different officer, a young woman with a gentle demeanour, approached the little girl. She crouched down, offering her a kind smile, and extended her hand. The girl looked at her hesitantly, but eventually, she took the officer's hand and allowed herself to be led towards a police car. As the little girl sat inside, cradling her dog backpack, she looked out of the window. Her eyes widened slightly as she spotted a familiar figure in the distance. Lester, who had parked on the side of the road, was standing by the edge of the police cordon, the family dog, Jonesy, at his side. He didn't look sad, but he didn't look angry either. Almost... indifferent, was that the right observation? She wasn't sure. He gave Nick and Carly a small wave when he made eye contact with the ambulance car, which one officer did see but ignored it as they didn't think much of it.

In the desolate terrain of her trauma, the young girl experienced a flash of recognition and a warmth that spread through her chest. In Ambrose, Lester was one of the few pleasant persons she had encountered. Despite his outward appearance, her uncle had street smarts, and she knew that he and Jonesy would be okay. It will be all right for him. She lifted her little hand and waved a quiet goodbye before anyone could see. A delicate bond amid great grief and uncertainty, a moment of bittersweetness.

Lester waved back, his hand shaking with passion, his heart hurting at the sight of her. Perceiving her owner's grief, Jonesy gently whimpered and nudged his palm with her nose. Minnie was Jonesy's little pal, the young child who would smuggle food into her mouth while Lester and the twins weren't there. Her face was so innocent and pure that Lester couldn't stop staring at it. All he could think was that she didn't deserve this. He watched as the six-year-old was taken into an unknown future by the automobile. He silently vowed to the gods, whoever they may be, that he would eventually see her again after swallowing the lump in his throat.

Author's note: Minnie is not the little girl's name, nor is she supposed to be an OC, but she has the potential to be one. Basically, Minnie is her nickname, I will write her with (Y/n) affiliations, but she'll have a personality as if she was one. So, it's pretty much like any (Y/n)'s out there. Sometimes, I feel as if (Y/n) is just something author's write to make readers want the experience of being in the story. Only to write the characters in a way where they are just the author's OC. Because I don't ever read a Y/n fanfic where I can relate, not once have I ever seen it.

[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

[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

[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.

[charliedawn]

How would they react if their child came to them for advice ?

Freddy was tending to his garden when he heard your familiar footsteps behind him. He turned around with a wide smile—but that smile faltered when he saw the look on your face.

"Hey, champ'. What's going on ?". You sat down next to him and started mindlessly picking out the plants you found there. Freddy would normally protest—but he could see that something was wrong.

"We talked about growing up in school today and it made me think...", you confessed before looking up at him. "What was it like for you ? Was it hard ?"

Freddy was surprised by the question. He could see you were scared of the answer—as you should be. It wasn't easy to grow up. His childhood was...not good. And it didn't get any better growing up. But, he couldn't tell you that. You weren't him. You could still make something of yourself.

So, he wrapped a comforting arm around you and smiled.

"Yup. Hard as Hell. But, you'll be a'right, kid. You know why ?" You shook your head and Freddy removed his hat before putting it on your head. "Because you got me. And I ain't letting anything stand in your way. You're my kid. And since I already went all the wrong ways—I'll make sure you do everything I didn't."

You smiled and felt somehow reassured. It wasn't exactly what you wanted to hear—but it was enough for now. You knew that your father meant well and you remembered how he had hesitated before adopting you. He didn't think himself capable of being a good dad. He thought himself the worst.

But, he did stay. He stayed, and that made him the best father you could have ever asked for. You hugged him and thanked him. He seemed surprised at first, but smiled and returned it.

You hid the piece of paper you had wanted to show him behind your back.

Who do you want to be when you grow up ?

...My dad.

You were staring at the piece of paper you had been asked to answer at home. It wasn't a big question. Just a complicated one.

Who do you want to be when you grow up ?

It seemed whenever you would be staring at the question and try to answer it, it would stare right back at you. At the end, you let out a loud frustrated groan before crumpling the piece of paper in your hand and threw it across the room.

"Wow. What's gotten into ya, kiddo ?" You turned around to see your father standing there. He had witnessed the whole scene and you sniffed pathetically before answering him.

"Growing up sucks..."

Bo looked between you and the piece of paper before turning back towards you. He picked up the paper and looked at the question. He held back a snort. What kind of question was that ?

He looked back up at you and frowned at your dejected expression. Welp...Seemed like it was time to be a good father figure and give you some wise advice—two things he had no fuckin' clue how to do.

"Ya right. Growing up sucks. Big time. But, ya know what' awesome ? Ya learn. And whoever ya' goin' te be ? Just be you. And be great at it. A'right ?"

He smiled and ruffled you hair playfully until you giggled. Your eyes briefly caught the old scars around his wrists and for a moment, you thought about your dad's past. He had told you about his parents and how they had 'educated' him. And then, you thought of how he had learned from it and even though you sometimes could throw tantrums—he had never once raised a finger on you.

You smiled when you realized that you finally had an answer. You straightened the piece of paper the best you could before writing down.

When I grow up, I want to be my dad.

Michael was reading a book in his bedroom when he heard a shy knocking at his door. He stood up and opened it to find you—waiting in the corridor with a piece of paper in your hand.

"Hey, dad. Could I...Could I ask you something ?" He took a step back and let you in before closing the door behind you. He sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. You smiled and nodded understandingly before indulging his silent request.

"I...have an assignment and I was wondering if you could help me ?"

He scooted closer to you to take a look at the paper in your hands and took out his notebook to write down.

How can I help ?

You thought about it for a moment before explaining your predicament.

"I just...I've been living all my life in the hospital. I don't know anyone that would be a good role model. I barely know anyone that is normal. Am I even normal myself ?"

Michael's jaw twitched as he realized he had never considered that your environment might end up being a problem. It was true. None of the slashers could really be taken as role models. He sighed and started seriously thinking about it before finally writing down.

Yourself.

You frowned and were about to ask what he meant by that when he quickly added.

If no one is up to your standards ? It is because you are the best there is in this place. And who do you want to be ? Yourself. Because you are already the best. And there is no one in this place that could ever measure. You survived all of those years. You were surrounded by slashers all your life, and you survived. I couldn't be prouder.

He hesitated before adding.

You are my role model.

Your eyes filled with tears as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed. You finally had your answer. And your dad had helped you in more ways than one.

He was wise. Kind. And unlike anyone you had ever met. He had fought against every instinct in his body to keep you and protect you. And that made him the best role model you could ask for.

You stared at the question for a moment before sighing and leaning back. Unlike your dad who basically wrote more than he breathed...You weren't so lucky.

You had no idea of who to write.

You groaned loudly in annoyance before covering your face with the piece of paper. After a moment, you saw a shadow looming over you through the sheet and soon enough—the piece of paper was removed.

Jack took a look at its content and almost laughed at the stupid question. Who you wanted to be when you grow up ? Heck, he was a grown-up, and even he didn't have the answer to that. He sat down in front of you and threw the paper on your desk.

"...So, a lack of inspiration, huh ?" You groaned again in response and your father chuckled knowingly. The blank page syndrome he knew all too well...

"Is it always gonna be like that ? I feel like school is all a game of pretend. I can't be myself. And I can't say anything because that would make me an even bigger weirdo than I am.", you opened up to your dad who shook his head. He was somehow popular when he was in school—but he knew the struggle. The only way he could truly express himself was through the words he wrote. He never shared them though. Stupid decision. He would have gotten on the path of a writer far sooner if he had.

"Don't sweat it, kid. It's only a phase. When you'll be an adult ? No more 'who's mister/miss popular'. Or, 'who's the loser'. Everyone has their own problems. And guess what ? You'll have forgotten all about school and teenage problems when you'll hit my age."

You smiled and nodded before looking at the paper in your hands. It was hard to find an answer. But, he had kinda helped you be less scared of what will happen and in the process—given you an answer.

"Thanks, dad."

He huffed a laugh before nodding.

"No problem, kiddo."

Pennywise didn't show up until you had actually finished filling up your assignment. But, he frowned when he found that you had written Penny on the paper. He knew he wouldn't be your role model. He didn't want to be—but Penny ? Really ?

Well, it did make sense when he thought about it.

Penny was good with kids.

"Are you...mad ?", you asked—unsure. And Pennywise shook his head.

He then looked at you and smiled before giving you back your paper.

"No, little one. I am glad that you see him that way, kiddo. Just...remember that your uncle Penny tends to get himself into trouble and I'm here to keep you safe—alright ?"

You smiled and nodded before waiting until your father was out of the room before adding letters to the name. Turns out, Pennywise wasn't such a bad role model.

Penny did want to help. He just didn't know how. So, he tried to think about an answer that would be satisfactory enough.

"Well, you just have to write someone that you admire. That you look up to. A human you like for example.", Penny told you and you sighed. You had no idea who in your life could fit that description.

"Do you have anyone like that ?", you finally asked and Penny thought about it for a moment before giggling to himself.

"Well...Don't tell anyone but...your uncle Pennywise." You were surprised by his answer and frowned in confusion.

"What ? But, you hate him ! You're always yelling at each other !"

Penny shook his head before smiling at you.

"I don't hate him. We're brothers. Let's just say that...Even your dad can sometimes become jealous."

He winced at that last part. Penny didn't like admitting his defaults.

"Jealous ? But, you're the best !", you protested and Penny laughed at your endearing confidence in him.

"I appreciate it, little one. But, Pennywise always has a solution for everything. He took care of me when I almost died. Twice. And he never left. No matter how many times he wanted to. No matter how many times I begged him to. No matter how many times I deserved it. He's like that piece of cotton candy stuck underneath your shoe that you can't get rid of."

You both laughed at the comparison and finally, you had your answer.

"But, there's no one that makes me laugh as much as you do, dad. And I want to be able to bring a smile to everyone's faces—just like you."

You finally knew what to write down and your father grinned proudly at your answer before picking you up.

"Come on. Let's go find some popcorn."

Jason was rarely taken aback. You could count the number of times you had seen him surprised on your fingers. So, when Freddy came out with an idea for a prank that would surely make your father react ? You didn't even hesitate.

You wished you had had a camera to record the moment Jason discovered you had written Freddy's name on the assignment. You were pretty sure that if he was really human—he would have died of an heart attack.

"It should be someone you...really admire.", he finally succeeded in telling in sign language and you hid your amused smile from him and tilted your head to the side quizzically.

"And uncle Freddy isn't a good example ?", you asked innocently and Jason seemed to deadpan.

"No." There was no hesitation and—unable to keep a straight face anymore—you burst out laughing. Freddy came out behind you and laughed as well before giving you a high-five.

"THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE !"

He had Jason's camera in hand and if looks could kill, Freddy would have been cut into pieces and thrown in a deepless river.

Jason started marching towards him and Freddy ran away. The moment they were out of the room, you shook your head with an amused smile before erasing your answer and writing Jason's name instead.

You had the answer from the beginning—but having your father lose his temper was so tempting—you just couldn't resist.

Proudest dad ever. He saw you had written his name and beamed at you.

"Me ? Brahms is your role model ?"

You nodded sheepishly and Brahms was really honored—but he then frowned and asked with confusion.

"...Why ?"

Brahms was not self-conscious. Far from it. But he couldn't see a single reason why he would be your role model. H was childish and even though he tried to act a little mature around you—he couldn't hide who he really was. You looked away and shrugged—trying to sound nonchalant as you replied.

"Because you aren't afraid to be yourself, and that's what I want to be. You showed me that I could be a good person by being myself."

He stayed still for a moment before picking you up and kissing your cheek. He was so happy. He had at least done something right. He had been raised with parents who didn't understand him or his will to be different.

He never wanted you to suffer the same fate.

"Thank you, Y/N."

You giggled as his beard started to tickle your face and he then asked if you wanted to go to your favorite restaurant. You went there and Brahms ordered every single item they had on the menu.

What you loved most about you dad was that—despite it all—he had kept his inner child.

Arthur came back late at night and felt guilty for not having helped you with the assignment. However, as soon as he spotted his name on the piece of paper, he erased it. He didn't deserve it.

He then sat down next to you and softly pet your head. He didn't want you to follow his path—that wasn't the reason he had adopted you.

He shook his head and kissed your forehead.

Whatever it takes, he would NEVER let you be him.

Norman received a call from your school about your...more than unusual answer to the assignment. As soon as you were back, he extended his hand and you sighed before giving him the filled assignment. Norman's eye twitched as he saw your answer.

You had written "SLASHER" in bold.

He would have expected every single answer out there—but that one.

"What do you mean by this, sweetie ?", he asked you as soon as you were both sitting and you looked away.

"...I want to be a slasher.", you claimed and he shook his head. You couldn't possibly mean it. Being a slasher was a very lonely existence and he wouldn't wish it on his worse enemy. Besides, you couldn't predict who would turn out to be a slasher. Only a few made it. He—himself—had no idea how he had become a slasher.

"Darling, you can't.", he tried to explain—but you wouldn't hear it.

"You said I could be whoever I want.", you insisted and glared up at him. "Or did you lie ?"

The accusation had the effect of a cold shower on Norman's head who hated he couldn't provide you with a positive answer. He wanted to tell you that you could...But, some of the people he knew couldn't be slashers—even though they were ruthless and bloody killers.

"This isn't how it works, darling. You know that." You humphed unhappily and stomped your foot on the ground.

"It's not fair."

He hesitated before cradling you in his arms.

"Ssh...I know, darling. I know."

[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.”

[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]

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

[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

[illusioninfnty]

kinktober 2024

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"I Want Your Dad, Too!" જ⁀➴ Boyfriend's Dad

feat. Harwin Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon || You have a problem with your boyfriend's performance in the bedroom. Luckily, his dad is here to teach him a couple of tricks to keep you satisfied!

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Seeds of Sin જ⁀➴ Dad's Best Friend

feat. Joel Miller || You and Joel get up to some naughty activities when your dad tasks him with keeping an eye on you.

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On Your Knees (For Me) જ⁀➴ House Husband

feat. Jacaerys Velaryon || Your husband knows just how to help you unwind after a long day of work.

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I'll Take You to Heaven જ⁀➴ Childhood Best Friends

feat. Josh Washington || A game of seven minutes in heaven has you and your best friend revealing your feelings for each other...and then some.

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Of Honor and Duty જ⁀➴ Peeping Tom

feat. Miguel O'Hara || Being from a different dimension won't stop Miguel from watching you.

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Oil Me Up! જ⁀➴ Masseuse

feat. Bo Sinclair || You've received a gift certificate for a free massage at the sketchy parlor down the road! Hopefully there aren't any weirdos working there!

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In the Dead of the Night જ⁀➴ Stalker

feat. Jake Lockley || Who keeps breaking into your apartment when you're asleep?

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Are You Still Watching? જ⁀➴ Sex Tape

feat. Josh Washington, Sam Giddings || Sam is in for quite the surprise when she inserts that video tape and clicks the play button...

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Girls Just Wanna Have Fun! જ⁀➴ Brothel

feat. Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower || Rhaenyra shows you and Alicent a new kind of fun to be had.

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"I'll Gut You Like A Fish!" જ⁀➴ Ghostface

feat. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto || What's wrong with your boyfriends killing a random sleazebag here and there? You just like to indulge in the celebration that comes after.

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Fight, Flight, Fuck! જ⁀➴ Fuck or Die

feat. Josh Washington || A scary man corners you alone, hopeless in only a mere towel. Your first reaction? Plead that you'll do anything to stay alive.

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The Taste of the Divine જ⁀➴ Cult Leader & Worshipper

feat. Alicent Hightower || Alicent is your most devoted follower. You offer her another way to prove to you why she deserves that title.

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The Sea's Delight જ⁀➴ Mermaid & Pirate

feat. Rhaenyra Targaryen || Rhaenyra is the most fearsome pirate on the seas...and the most glorious lover in the bedroom.

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Zombies Are My Sweetest Slaves! જ⁀➴ Zombie Apocalypse

feat. Simon "Ghost" Riley || Oh no! Your boyfriend got bit by a zombie! Good thing he still knows how to pleasure you!

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Bite Me, Suck Me, Stake Me! જ⁀➴ Vampire & Hunter

feat. Simon "Ghost" Riley || Ghost is a skilled vampire hunter, but you're an even better vampire. Too bad you haven't convinced him to let you take a little bite out of him yet...

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Make My Kitty Purr! જ⁀➴ Black Cat & Spiderwoman

feat. Sam Giddings || As New York City's sexiest burglar, of course it was your duty to tease the friendly neighborhood Spiderwoman. It helped that she was real cute and got easily flustered.

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i'm looking forward to posting these :) @gogogodzilla is doing the other half of the days with different kinks/tropes, make sure to check out her fics too!