#tw toxic father

[floatyflowers]

Dark Platonic! Rich Father x Reader

Cecil, your father, was a teen dad, working two jobs to provide for you until he decided to take a loan from the bank to open a small business.

It only took him six years to become the richest man in the country.

All that happened, because Cecil wants you to have the best life.

No father wants their child to live in poverty.

As you grow older, you realise how your father became more possessive and controlling.

He homeschooled you and paid for the best tutors in fear that someone might take advantage of you.

Cecil would provide you with the best food, education, and clothes you need.

However, if you want an allowance, then you have to earn it by...

Respecting him and doing as he tells you.

Going with him to the company and helping him with paper work.

Just so he can keep watching you.

If you misbehave, you will be locked up for a week without any connection to the outside world, you will only receive your meals.

You cannot go out without him or without being surrounded by at least three bodyguards.

He tried to be your friend, so you don't have any friends, but it seems like you always felt uneasy in his presence.

At the age of fifteen, you called child protective services on him after your father threatened to lock you up for a whole month if you didn't cut off your friendships.

Unfortunately, CPS did nothing because Cecil managed to convince them with his money that you are mentally unstable.

"I'm really disappointed in you, you have lost my trust, (Y/n)"

[cats-depression-diary]

I have my father's rage inside of me. And it's getting bigger and bigger, I can't stop it this time. It's killing me, I don't wanna turn into him, I hate this man sooo much, he has ruined my life.

[pain-is-my-game]

One of the worst realizations that I have ever made is realizing that all I ever wanted was to be loved by my parents. I never would've turned out like this if they just loved me unconditionally.

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

19. 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻’𝓼 𝓠𝓾𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

"Where is she?!" Dorian's frantic voice echoed through the estate, his worry palpable.

As servants scurried in a hurried search, their footsteps resonating in sync with the ominous silence that enveloped the estate, Dorian's desperation escalated. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, and the once serene atmosphere now crackled with tension. Meanwhile, Killian leaned lazily against a wall, a stark contrast to the frantic pacing of the distressed father. His nonchalant demeanor, seemingly unaffected by the unfolding drama. He appeared to be more an observer of chaos than a participant in the search.

In a corner of the room, the coffin manufacturer sat in a plush chair, bewildered by the sudden panic that had gripped the once serene household. His eyes darted nervously from one end of the room to the other, as if expecting answers to manifest in the luxurious surroundings. The elegance of the room juxtaposed with the disarray of emotions, creating an atmosphere that seemed almost surreal for the mortal.

"She couldn't have left without anyone noticing," Dorian reasoned, his brow furrowed with concern. The frantic search continued, but the mansion offered no clues to the disappearance of his daughter. The air was thick with uncertainty, and the urgency of the situation hung palpably in the atmosphere. The blonde, casting a penetrating gaze at Killian, turned to the other vampire with an accusatory tone. "Why don't you do anything?"

"What is there to do?" Killian retorted haughtily. "She left. Accept it."

Anger flared within Dorian. "Accept it!?" he repeated with outrage. "My daughter is out there somewhere, alone with nobody to protect her !”

As the words lingered in his mind, Dorian's panic escalated. The memory of (Y/n)'s previous escape, when she had been attacked by a sanguini, intensified his resolve. He wouldn't let this happen once again. She was mortal, completely defenseless and weak. 

"Walking around aimlessly will not help," Killian answered with a sigh. "You may live."

Dorion looked at him, bewildered by the command before realizing the second part had been aimed at the coffin-maker who was still in the room. He turned his gaze toward the mortal, a bewildered look in his eyes as he processed Killian's command. The man, caught off guard, hesitated for a moment before nodding in acknowledgment. Slowly, he made his way towards the exit, leaving the room as instructed by the enigmatic vampire. He had forgotten about him, his mind having focused on the girl. 

Dorian's focus, however, quickly returned to the pressing matter at hand – the whereabouts of his daughter. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart. The thought of his daughter being out there, alone in an unforgiving world, sent shivers down his spine. The once grandiose room now seemed suffocating, its walls closing in as Dorian's mind raced with worry. He couldn't fathom what his daughter might be experiencing, and the very idea that she could be subjected to unforgivable things gnawed at him. His protective instincts kicked in, overshadowing everything else.

Some people would not think twice about taking advantage of young, impressionable minds like his weak, fragile (Y/n). She was so frail; she wouldn't survive on her own. She was utterly, completely, truly alone. The child was so naive thinking that any mortal would simply take her in hearing her plight, but they wouldn't.

He felt Killian's hand on his shoulder. "Sit," he advised him while leading him to an armrest. "Your power is affecting the room; calm down."

He looked around, noticing the ice covering the place where he had been standing just moments before. "She's out there," he protested, clenching his fists, "I just can't..."

"You must stay calm," his partner said with conviction, "servants are already looking for her."

Dorian's eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and fear. Despite the efforts of the servants scouring the estate, the absence of tangible information only fueled his worry. Useless. They were all utterly useless. It was preposterous. She had left once, and now once again they managed to let her slip through them. They would pay. He would deal with them after after finding his child. He could feel the seconds ticking away, each one adding to the uncertainty surrounding his daughter's disappearance.

He shook his head and stood once again, resuming his pacing, "There are three paths she could have taken," he mused out loud." The first is the one she took during her first escapade which I doubt she would take again. She can be quite clever. The second is one more remote that leads to a nunnery, but I doubt she even knows of the existence of this path. She would have had to walk through the nearby forest for at least an out by foot to even notice it. She doesn't leave home. She knows she isn't allowed to... and yet here we are. The third one however... while long, leads to a village and if this foolish daughter of mine—"

"The carpet; you're freezing the carpet," Killian admonished while pinching the bridge of his nose. "(Y/n) is a resourceful young girl, Dorian."

He tried laughing, but it sounded wet and slightly hysterical. "Don't be ridiculous. She can't survive on her own! She's so—fragile, and helpless and she could break at any second and— and she's out there!" He gestured out the window. He collapsed on the couch, shaking his head. "And if something happens to her... if something happens to my poor child..."

Each day, she mattered so much more to him. More than she had when he had first met her on that clearing. She had made him care for her. He cared so much for her. He couldn’t just let her go. He wouldn’t forgive himself. 

If something happened to (Y/n), Dorian knew it would completely shatter him.

Dorian looked up, his eyes teary and filled with a mix of frustration, fear, and desperation. Killian, sensing the need for comfort, passed an arm around Dorian's shoulders. The touch, though subtle, carried a warmth that overcame their cold exterior. The blond vampire reacted by resting his head on his lover's shoulder, finding solace in the physical closeness. Killian's presence, like an anchor in the storm of emotions, had a way of grounding Dorian back to the present when he felt himself spiraling into the abyss of worry and uncertainty.

"Dorian," Killian whispered, "calm down, just for a second. Breathe."

He nodded, chuckling slightly at the suggestion. He didn't need to breathe. "Such a human thing to do," he commented, feeling himself calm down slightly, slowly but surely.

Killian nodded, agreeing, "You know me." He sighed softly. "Why don't we focus on something else while the servants search?"

"Like what ?' He questioned reluctantly.

"Forget the girl for now, Dorian," he suggested calmly. The words were said with a soft, yet confident voice. "I'm sure she is fine."

The bland looked up in anger at the remark. His anger grew once his icy blue eyes met Dorian's bright red ones. A cold feeling washed over him, realizing the other had tried to use a moment of emotional vulnerability against him. Leaning forward and clenching his fists, he demanded, "What did you try to do?"

Killian looked away, giving him no answer. The blond gripped his lover's arm, his nails digging in his skin. The other only flinched slightly, almost imperceptibly, "What did you try to do?" He winced, but Dorian did not care. Fury roared through his mind.

He knew his partner's power very well. Knew that he hardly used it, but knew nonetheless the signs of it. "Did you try to make me forget about her?"

His silence was enough of an answer on its own. He felt betrayed and furious at the mere idea that Killian of all people would dare to use his mind control powers on him. He was about to explode with rage, unable to understand why he would try to use them for this. Dorian had seen Killian and (Y/n) interact together, he had witnessed the bond they shared grow. He couldn't understand why the man would simply decide to let it go. One shouldn't let go of the people they cared about so easily.

Wheels turned inside his head, and realization dawned upon him. He stood up and Killian followed suit. "It is you," he accused, pointing a finger. "You let her leave.” 

While Killian neither confirmed nor denied it verbally, Dorian already knew the answer. In a surge of fury, he lunged at Killian, gripping the other's shirt threateningly as his mind spun. "Killian, you—"

"Sir," a servant entered the room, breaking the tension. "It appears she has left on horseback; one is missing."

Flashes of worst-case scenarios flooded Dorian's mind. (Y/n) could have had an accident, been attacked. The horse might have rebelled. (Y/n) didn’t know how to ride a horse; he had never taught her for that reason. So that she wouldn’t attempt anything stupid. She could be dead by now. Dead, alone, and rotting in the wilderness.

He clutched Killian's shirt with a vice-like grip, feeling wetness in his eyes and his throat tightening. "You can't—" he glowered. "You can't do this to me, Killian."

The other offered no response. His eyes were cold and held no regret. He might have left the poor child to die and he did not care. Dorian’s weak pleas were met with indifference. This was his child, his daughter. He couldn't let her be taken away from him. How dare he do this ? How could he ? "Tell me!" Dorian pleaded desperately. "Tell me where you told her to go !"

No answer. 

No reaction. 

Dorian's face fell, and he began to tremble. "You can't do this to me, Killian," he whispered weakly. "You can't..."

[grayluforever]

He’s not even really a good dad either since he doesn’t know a thing about Octavia’s interests and uses her as an excuse to leave the house

[stacys-mom-has-got-it-goin-on]

When they've just traumatized you and then 2 seconds later they act like nothing ever happened and everything is rainbows and sunshine.

[ayushsan]

I'll obliterate all in my path,

My sanity will crumble as an aftermath,

If any harm comes your way,

I'll set the world ablaze.

ANIMAL (OFFICIAL TRAILER)

[terrence-silver]

How would Terry in all eras teach his sons to respect their mother (beloved)

Look, whenever in doubt, I tend to go for Terry Silver approaching things through the lenses of a (toxic?) military structure, or in this case;

Mother (beloved) is the flag in the middle of the base camp. If someone captures it, disrespects it, steals it, tramples upon it or even touches it --- looks at it for too long --- means the collective has lost and losing is unacceptable through Terry Silver's viewpoint of things. If your flag is captured, the battle is over. And is that acceptable? No. I don't think it is. The group moral is gone, squashed, destroyed and that fact demands strict and immediate retaliation. Revenge. Such are the rules of life and warfare and such are the rules his figurative sons defend what's theirs with --- in this case, their mom. Each other. Their family. Their dojo. Their ambitions. Their schemes. You name it! Beloved's the flag fluttering on a pole, metaphorically speaking, in the middle of basecamp and if you allow someone to take what's yours from your own territory and from underneath your own nose without putting up a fight, you'll be losing every day of your life, always and forever, because how's anyone ever going to esteem or fear you for losing? How are you going to be able to esteem yourself? So, guess what? Best never lose. And if you do, you better go out there and vanquish, cheat, lie, deceive, do whatever it takes to defend your flag and fix things back to the way they're supposed to be by any means necessary. No mercy. In fact, I can envision Terry holding a speech somewhat like this to his sons, word for word. You can even very much read this tirade in his voice.

So, it's safe to say he'd not only teach them to respect their mother.

He'd teach them to kill for their mother.

[kirnet]

Did I manage to kill you because I was stronger? Or did I kill you because you let me?

[living-like-shit]

All I want is for someone to say they r proud of me. For eating less, studying, exercising and getting my shit together . My own parents don't do it.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Platonic Father! Saladin x Reader x Dark! Baldwin IV

You are the only daughter of Sultan Salah El -Din Al Ayoubi.

And his favourite child.

How can he not favor you when you were the only child who shamelessly climbed on his back while he prayed, demanding that he plays with you.

You also started writing poems at the age of twelve to praise your father's bravery in battles.

Not only that, but you were religious and well behaved, and always obey his orders because you know he only wants the best for you.

Even though you were considered the most beautiful woman when you reached eighteen, no man dared to voice out such a thing.

One man tried to voice out such words, and the next thing he was whipped one hundred times.

You received many suitors, but they were all rejected.

Since the peace treaty with the Crusaders, you thought it would be a good idea to go on a pilgrimage.

But you did not expect that everyone with you would get killed and you would be taken as a hostage.

All because of Reynald de chatillon.

Of course the Christian king wasn't happy about that, and ordered that Reynald de chatillon be hanged.

Especially after he saw how you were bruised and beaten up.

Knowing very well that this might lead to war.

Baldwin had the best physicians treat your wounds and the best food be presented to you.

He made sure you are well taken care of...however, you were too afraid to eat or drink.

Only wanting to return back to your father.

Which made Baldwin have the soldiers bring you to his chambers to try to convince you that he means no harm.

"I wish to return to my father"

"Reynald de chatillon will face death for what he has done"

"Thank you, you are just and kind"

After those sentences are exchanged between you both, you start trusting him.

You two would play chess and converse about different subjects.

What surprised him is your knowledge about different fields like philosophy, medicine, and astronomy.

You are beautiful, intelligent, kind and virtuous...all the traits that makes a perfect wife.

How unfortunate, that he can't take you as a wife for many reasons.

The Leper King decided to give you a gift to remember him by, and that is a golden crescent necklace.

In, the end, you were returned back to your father safe and sound.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I saved a child from his toxic parents but in order to do that I had to fight his dad, who was Jotaro Kujo. I broke both my arms but me, my dad, and my dad's friend were able to defeat him and my family and I adopted the child and we lived happily ever after.

[pain-is-my-game]

It hurts finding out that your mother is abusive. Especially if you're autistic like me and you've only just now realized that your childhood was in fact traumatic. I feel so stupid. All these years have passed and I never knew. How come I never saw it when it's so obvious?

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

22. 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽

Dorian's velvety croon filled the room as the girl's eyes fluttered open, a testament to the success of his work. With grace, Dorian ran his fingers through her hair, an almost paternal gesture with an undercurrent of possessiveness. She appeared disoriented yet curiously aware of everything surrounding her. 

In a ritualistic display, Dorian's sharp fangs pierced his own forearm, crimson droplets welling up and rolling down his arm. The scent, intoxicating and thick, traveled through the room, luring the fledgling. The girl, smart child that she was, picked up on the scent in no time. A swift realization flashed across her eyes, and she keenly picked up on the aroma.

The offered forearm hovered near her mouth, and Dorian's honeyed voice encouraged her, "Drink." The fledgling, displaying an instinctive hunger, moved to partake almost savagely, but Dorian intervened with a gentle touch. He held her jaw delicately, his fingers grazing her cold skin. "Use your fangs, doll. Show me your little fangs."

The girl, her newly formed canines revealed, elicited a proud smile from Dorian. With approval granted, she sank her fangs into his flesh. She drank with a fervor, as if trying to quench a centuries-long thirst in mere moments. The room resonated with the sound of her eager feeding.

Eventually, Dorian, the indulgent sire, halted her actions. "That is enough," he whispered, and she whimpered, a primitive plea for more escaping her lips. With a reassuring shake of his head, he spoke softly, "I know, I know, you're thirsty. You shall have more later." 

As much as she wanted. He was her sire, her creator, and her provider. He would ensure she lacked nothing. He wouldn’t leave her and, in return, she would stay by his side. He was her caretaker. ☾ Gradually (Y/n)'s reason took back control over her instincts. Her memories were hazy, as if a fog were enveloping them, but the panic and fear she had felt before still remained. She recognized the two men in the room. Recognizing the two men present, the sentiments of transformation and of an existence forced upon her hung heavy in the air.

"Killian.. Stay.." Desperation tinged her whimper as she reached out to Killian. She sought solace in the man she knew, yearning for his presence as a shield against the monster who had inflicted this vampiric fate upon her. This man had tried to protect her against the one who turned her. She felt safer with him. 

She observed the man's hesitation, her eyes filled with a profound sense of hope and despair intertwined. His gaze held a tempest of emotions, reflecting the inner conflict he, too, experienced.

Dorian, now the creator of her newfound existence, leaned in, a calming presence amidst the chaos soothing her whimpers with a gentle, almost hypnotic murmur. Safe. "Oh, he won't leave, darling." His words cut through the uncertainty with a promise. "He may have contemplated leaving, but that's in the past now. He shall stay, and he shall stay for you." ☾ She remained oblivious to the sly, dark smile Dorian gave to the other vampire — a subtle pact woven between them, one party more willing than the other.

Reluctantly, Killian approached the girl, a silent turmoil raging within him. Dorian released his hold on her, allowing her to find solace in the arms of his companion. As Killian tenderly stroked her hair, a tide of resentment surged within him. The venom in his voice was palpable as he muttered, words laden with scorn, "You are truly deplorable."

The words danced in the air for an instant, carrying with them years of resentment. The surroundings whispered tales of lives lived, choices made, and the eternal struggle between what once had been and what remained now.

Dorian smiled faintly. His eyes were wet and he leaned on his shoulder. “I know,” he whispered, his words feeling heavy in the room. “Anything for my family. My coven.”

The blond’s arms locked around Killian and he could feel the other’s tremors. "I love you so much,” he muttered, almost inaudibly, "I love the both of you so much." He repeated the statement like an endless mantra. 

Killian remained quiet, with the youngling resting on his chest and the other vampire leaning on his shoulders.

A part of him realized they could all leave. Windows were open; doors were unlocked. Walking out was easy. Just as it had always been.

"We have a daughter, Killian," he continued on. Killian suddenly felt a wetness on his shoulder. "You wouldn't leave her behind, would you? Please… She needs me, and — and I need the both of you."

He drew in a shuddering breath, the blond’s voice, his words, his touch… All of that was so suffocating. He felt caged. Not physically, no; his prison was of another kind. He would have liked to say Fate had intricately woven and meticulously pulled the threads of their lives until they were inevitably entwined. That description would have sounded poetic, or perhaps even romantic in a twisted way. Yet, even that was false, wasn’t it? Tthe truth was often less fanciful.

They were trapped.

Trapped in a tragedy of their own making.

[addilynn-rogers]

how do you expect me to get better in the environment that made me sick in the first place?

[twoheadedfather]

does anyone else ever have the feeling of being terribly violated by their dad during childhood? like... sexually. my dad did some pretty fucked up things to me, but i wouldn't call it "terribly violated". i still feel like he did bad stuff to me, though. does that makes sense? sorry if this is a weird question.