#daugther! reader

[cablyunkataplum]

Dancing Queen

Neytiri Sully x Sully! Fem!/Pronouns Reader

Words: 1,350

Summary: Neytiri was always de option of Y/N to practice her dances, after a long time without doing it she decides to return to the habit.

Written Curse: Use of Y/N! Third person!--I'm not an english native speaker so I support on translators! You are the dancing queen, Young and sweet, Only seventeen, Dancing queen! See ya Darlings!

The steps of each individual were distant sounds in the tranquility of the tent, also audible were the whispers and the occasional squeal of some ikran. The surroundings illuminated thanks to the different fires scattered around the place, inside the tent was Y/N moving energetically and sometimes stopping to analyze her previous steps.

The fire that accompanied her gentile instructed the girl, both to see where she walked and to show her how to move; abrupt or delicate. Paying more attention to this she began again with some changes; she raised her arms, bowed, turned, even jumped until she was satisfied with the result of her effort. After a while her whole family was back.  Neytiri was the first to arrive, from a few meters from the tent she was able to distinguish the figure of her daughter thanks to the campfire inside. When she arrived she delicately slipped the cloth hung allowing a clearer view of what was happening in that space, with a smile building on her face she admired the dance with a certain nostalgic air.

Undisturbed as she knew that her mother was present she kept dancing until a memory came to her mind. She stopped and turned to Neytiri --Hello ma-- their eyes connected, finally she moved until she was next to her with the hand she had since in the other had her bow and caressed her head and bowed kiss her forehead --Hello-- she walked until she was in front of the structure where she left the bow --How are you going?-- with a grimace she approached her mother --it could be better--, --It will-- she posed her hand again but this time on her cheekbone, the other on her shoulder --Is dinner ready?-- the girl’s eyes opened for a moment and she hurriedly moved away from the contact with her mother, she gathered what was necessary and began to do it --I forgot-- her mother knelt down and sighed --Let me help you-- she stretched out her arm and opened her hand, she watched her for a few seconds until she gave her other utensils without first reprimanding herself for her carelessness --Thanks--.

The wood thunking rhythmically accompanied the cuts of the food that both made but the girl stopped and looked at Neytiri who paid her attention to the moment she stopped cutting --do you think you could help me?-- she was confused at the request of the child until she stood up and extended her arm as she had done recently. --I'm not at your Y/N level, I don't know how I could be of help, I think your father is a better option-- at the recommendation she laughed a little --Dad seems to have never moved a single bone when it comes to dancing… Don’t tell him what I told you that-- Neytiri continued cutting to disguise the smile that made room on her face --You will have to tell him that-- when she finished what seemed to her she grabbed things so that they would not get in the way on another place, seeing this Sully’s body reflected how happy she was for her disposition.

The exchange of words was little during the session, all the time Neytiri could not help but remember all the times when her daughter had asked her for such a favor.

It was always evident the like that Y/N Sully had for the dance, the dedication that she had to the activity, even though her whole family had ways and tastes very different from her own. They knew that there was no point denying the gift she had. Her parents were proud and at the same time surprised by how the girl could find the rhythm or melody in whatever it was and from there base her dance, on many occasions she asked her mom to dance with her to teach them their progress or the new learning of the day.

The little girl screamed for her mother as she ran to the tent where she was resting but with the cries she worried that when she entered immediately went to her --what happened, did you hurt yourself?-- she inspected her arms and then the torso, raised her jaw and moved it. Jake, who was eating quietly with the other children and who was already very well used to his daughter’s energy, spoke to his partner -- she is fine--. Neytiri turned to give him a quick look before focusing on the girl again --my dad is right-- with a frowning she asked her what was the reason for her cries --today I learned a new dance!-- of course, she thought, she was always excited to learn and that was her usual attitude but sometimes she forgot it. --Seriously?-- she calmed down and encouraged her --Why don't you teach us?-- the screams were sharpened and with her hands she took hers; that with some fatigue she suggested that her father was a better option to which she refused, Jake and the children began to cheer for her to do so, pretending defeat was guided by Y/N who explained step by step. At the end they received a series of applause, bowed and thanked -- very well, it is late, to sleep -- the children protested --obey your mother--, --We also Ma Jake-- this one complained but not without saying that the one who was the last to fall asleep would be a rotten egg, the last screams were given when trying not to be the egg. With smiles on their faces both parents went to bed until they fell asleep.

--The arm here-- she guided with her hand --the other like this-- she turned away and observed until she was satisfied and imitated the position --And then the step is like this-- she moved and agitated, then she waited for her mother to do the same and this time it was perfect so they could do the full dance. Every time when they joined hands or separated Neytiri saw the little version of her daughter, she felt her hands around the tiny fingers and remembered the laughter every time she made a mistake with a move but she always had the patience to repeat it every time and that had not changed a little even with the maturity she had reached.

In the final steps Jake came in and waited for them to finish, --I did not know you danced so well-- the two turned around and saw the mocking smile --Ma Jake-- her face told him not to say anything else and he caught it so he changed the subject --how did it go?-- , -Good-- in the middle of the answer the others entered with sleepy eyes --where were you?-- they all responded at once so it didn’t make much sense until Neteyam said again --Grandma asked us to do some things-- he sat on the floor, followed Lo’ak and Kiri, Tuk hugging Neytiri -- let’s eat so they can recover their energy-- Neytiri spoke and with her head she indicated Y/N to serve everyone.

--It came out as you wanted?-- Jake addressed the older Sully, some looking at her, -MMH?-- he grabbed a piece of food --your dance-- he bit a bit and then answered --Yes, thanks to Mom --he nodded and continued with his food but Kiri wasn’t going to leave it --why don’t you ask him for help later? I’ve never seen you dance with him-- Lo’ak and Neteyam suppressed laughs that their father noticed but ignored --It's a good idea I've always wanted to dance with you-- other laughs were heard, --What?-- he asked the teenagers as Y/N immersed herself in her hands --Nothing Ma Jake, nothing-- she glanced at the teenagers and child --eat-- and the conversation stopped there, for a moment she and Neytiri looked at each other smiling, she would actually have to talk to her father or give him intensive classes but it didn’t really bother her as she knew she would always be their dancing queen for both of them.

[rizzanon]

00 | AND SHE CRIED OVER NOTHING

m.list | next

You weren’t supposed to be out here tonight. You knew that very well. The injuries that you sustained from your previous few night patrols hadn’t fully healed yet. Leslie warned you not to go out that night.

Yet you still went out.

Why?

Because you finally had a lead on the drug ring you had been tracking down for who knows how long. And if you didn’t act now, they’ll get away. Again. You couldn’t allow that.

You could have asked for some backup, but that wouldn’t suffice.

Not because you didn’t want help—actually no. You didn’t want help. This was your mission. Your lead. But backup would have been nice. Though you knew no one would come.

Dick? He was busy juggling his duties in Blüdhaven. Even if he wanted to help, his plate was always overflowing, and he wouldn’t drop it all just because you asked.

Jason? Yeah, right. You could already hear his sarcastic laugh if you dared to call him. “Why? Can’t handle it yourself for once?” he’d sneer, probably adding some comment about how this was why you didn’t belong in the field, before handling the whole situation himself. You weren’t about to give him more ammunition.

Tim? He was neck-deep in some case he swore was more pressing than anything else. The last time you’d asked him for help, he’d given you that look—the one that screamed—You can’t do this without me?—before ultimately brushing you off. You didn’t want to go through that again.

Damian? He’d probably make some cutting remark about how you lacked the skills to deal with it on your own. And while he might grudgingly show up, it wouldn’t be out of concern—it’d be just to make sure you didn’t screw up his father’s reputation. Or make things worse to clean up.

Cassandra? She had her own priorities, her own missions that rarely overlapped with yours. And truthfully, you didn’t even think she noticed how much you struggled. She always seemed so focused, so capable. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit how lost you felt in comparison.

Duke? He might’ve come if you asked, but it wasn’t fair to rely on him. He already did so much during the day. You didn’t want to drag him down with you.

And Bruce? Your father? Well. He was offworld with the Justice League. Besides, he never showed up unless it was absolutely critical. And let’s be honest—he didn’t think your leads were ever “critical.”

So you didn’t bother calling. You didn’t want the dismissive tones, the passive-aggressive remarks, or the lingering sense of being an afterthought.

This was your lead. Your mission. And if you didn’t do it, no one else would.

The warehouse loomed in front of you, its shadow stretching long across the damp pavement. Your heart pounded as you slipped into the shadows, your injuries screaming in protest with every movement.

You moved silently through the shadows, the dim light from the flickering bulbs overhead casting long, jagged shapes along the warehouse floor. The stench of oil, dust, and something far more pungent hit your nostrils as you crouched behind a stack of crates, eyes scanning the scene.

A small group of men huddled around a table near the back, laughing, their voices low but unmistakably clear. The bags of white powder scattered across the surface of the table made your stomach churn.

They're pushing more than just drugs this time, you thought.

Weapons, too.

A rough-looking man passed a large duffle bag to another, his fingers brushing the edge of the table. You could see the gleam of a few pistols tucked in the bag, alongside the drugs.

This was more dangerous than you thought.

You couldn't risk waiting for backup-you had to end it now.

You moved, a blur of motion, cutting through the darkness, your body fluid and quiet. The first guy was an easy target—a simple kick to the back of his knee sent him collapsing forward. You grabbed his collar and shoved him into the crates with a muffled thud, silencing his surprised yelp with your fist. He slumped, unconscious before he could make a sound.

Two more men turned at the noise, and before they could react, you were on them, one swift strike to the throat with your elbow knocking the wind out of the first. He staggered back, choking, and you took the opportunity to jab your fist into his ribs-hard enough to knock the breath out of him but not enough to take him down completely.

The second man lunged for his gun. You didn't give him a chance. Your leg snapped out, sweeping his feet from under him. As he crashed to the floor, you were already on top of him, wrenching the weapon from his hand and twisting it behind his back, forcing him to the ground with a grunt.

Three down.

But there were more.

You heard movement behind you. The fourth man was charging. You spun, ducking just in time to avoid his swinging fist. Your foot came up, landing a solid kick to his stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air, but you weren't done. Before he could recover, you snapped your knee into his face— cracking his nose with a sickening crunch. He crumpled, blood pooling beneath his head as you quickly swiped the gun from his belt.

But more men were flooding into the warehouse now, alerted by the noise of the fight.

You dove into the next move, tossing the gun to the side and using your momentum to launch yourself into a roll, just narrowly avoiding a swing from a fifth man. Your leg shot out, sweeping his feet out from under him. As he crashed to the ground, you were already on him, pinning his arm behind his back.

Your breathing was heavy now, muscles straining from the effort, but you didn't stop.

You couldn't.

Another man tried to rush you from the side. You twisted just in time, grabbing his arm and using his own momentum to throw him into a stack of crates. He hit the ground with a crash, dazed. You didn't waste time, hitting him hard with a knee to the chest.

But then, something shifted. You were surrounded. More men had come from the back, the entrance-everywhere.

You counted at least seven now, all armed, all ready for a fight.

Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears. You fought harder, faster, but exhaustion was creeping in. You could feel the weight of your injuries dragging on you, slowing your reactions, dulling your reflexes.

One man landed a punch to your side.

Pain exploded, sharp and brutal, as your ribs cracked under the force. You staggered, trying to keep your footing, but then another slammed his fist into your jaw, sending you spinning. Your head whipped to the side, and for a moment, everything blurred.

You barely managed to catch yourself before hitting the floor. Focus, you thought, shaking your head to clear the fog. But it was too late.

Gunfire erupted.

The sound echoed through the warehouse, deafening, sharp. You barely had time to react as the first shot rang out, grazing your shoulder. You cursed under your breath, trying to duck behind a crate for cover. But then another shot-this time, it struck you in the side. The pain was unbearable, like a fire burning through your skin. You fell to your knees, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of you.

You tried to rise, but the pain was too much.

Blood pooled around you, your body screaming in protest as you desperately tried to keep your eyes open.

But it wasn't enough.

Another bullet pierced through your side, and you crumpled to the ground, gasping, your body going cold. Your vision dimmed, the world around you fading into darkness.

Damnit, this couldn't be the end. This couldn't be the way you die.

You gritted your teeth, trying to will your broken body into motion, but it was no use. Your muscles betrayed you, trembling under the effort to even inch forward. Blood pooled beneath you, sticky and warm, and every movement sent a sharp, searing pain radiating through your torso.

Your hand, slick with blood, dragged itself forward, reaching for the comms device tucked at your side. Come on.

Just one call. Someone has to be there.

With a shaky grip, you brought the device to your lips, gasping into it. "H-hello? Anyone... anyone copy? Oracle? Batcave?"

The comms buzzed faintly, then fell silent.

Nothing.

Your heart sank, a cold weight settling in your chest. No one was coming. You pressed the button again, harder this time, as if that would somehow force a response. "Please... anyone..."

Still nothing.

Tears blurred your vision as the reality of your situation hit you like a freight train.

You were dying, and you were alone.

The sounds of movement around you grew louder. The men you'd fought earlier were groaning, pulling

themselves up off the ground. You heard their footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing closer with every second.

You swallowed hard, your breaths shallow. No. No, no, no. This can't be happening.

But then, the distant wail of police sirens pierced the silence, growing louder by the second. The footsteps halted. You could hear hurried whispers, curses under their breath. They weren't going to stick around to get caught.

And just like that, they were gone.

You lay there, helpless, listening to their retreating footsteps echo through the warehouse. The mission was a failure.

The drug ring was slipping through your fingers, and you could do nothing but bleed out on the cold concrete floor.

Your vision blurred further as tears fell freely down your cheeks, mixing with the blood beneath you. You felt hollow, a deep ache spreading through you that had nothing to do with the gunshots.

Flashes of your life played out in your mind, each memory sharper and crueler than the last.

You saw yourself as a child, training relentlessly, throwing yourself into every practice, every drill, every mission. You wanted so desperately to prove yourself.

To make your father proud. To make anyone see you. But no matter how hard you worked, how much you pushed yourself, it was never enough.

You saw the countless patrols where you'd fought harder, faster, and smarter, hoping for even a flicker of recognition from your father or your siblings. But they always moved past you, as if you were nothing more than a shadow in their much larger, brighter world.

Your father's dismissive glances, your siblings' subtle comments, their silence—it all piled up, brick by brick, until you were buried beneath it. And now, you were dying under that weight.

Tears kept falling as another thought crept in, sharper than the rest.

You shouldn't have put on the mask.

You weren't cut out for this life. You never had been. Maybe you were too stubborn to admit it before, or maybe you'd known all along but refused to face the truth. You wanted to be like them-to belong. But maybe you were never meant to.

After all, even your own mother didn't want you.

That thought cut deeper than any bullet ever could. If your own mother had abandoned you, why did you ever think Bruce or the others would be any different?

And then there were your friends.

Adrien and Caitlyn.

The only two people who had ever cared about you, who had tried to stop you from breaking yourself for a family that didn't care. You pushed them away—no, you drove them away. They saw through the cracks in your armor, saw the truth you didn't want to face, and you hated them for it.

You remembered the arguments, the cruel words, the way you shut them out of your life, thinking they didn't understand. You'd been so stupid, so blind. And now? You'd give anything to take it all back. To tell them you were sorry.

What would they think when they found out about this? Would they cry? Would they be angry? Or would they feel nothing at all?

They didn't have to care anymore. You made sure of that.

And then your family...

Would they even care? Would your father see your death as another failure? Would your siblings mourn you, or would they move on, like you were just another casualty in the war they'd chosen to fight?

You'd never know.

At least now, maybe you could finally see Alfred once again.

Alfred… the man who was your family’s butler, and someone who was more of a parental figure to you than your actual father.

Everything changed when he died. God, you missed him so much. Everything was so much harder, so much lonelier without him. At least now, you could finally see him again.

As the world around you dimmed, your thoughts grew quieter, like the fading notes of a melancholy song.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, each breath weaker than the last.

The pain ebbed away, replaced by a strange, cold stillness.

And with one final, trembling breath, everything went black.

Everything felt peaceful for a moment.

But then, you heard a sound.

The sound was faint at first—a low, rhythmic ringing cutting through the darkness. It didn’t make sense. Everything had gone quiet, hadn’t it? The fight. The blood. The cold, creeping sensation of death. Yet, the ringing persisted, growing louder, sharper. It was unmistakable now. An alarm clock?

Your mind scrambled for understanding as the sound grew deafening. And then—

Your eyes shot open.

You were staring at the ceiling. Your ceiling. The familiar, faintly cracked white plaster of your bedroom greeted you, sunlight streaming in through the blinds. It didn’t make sense. Wasn’t this supposed to be—? No. You were bleeding out in that warehouse, weren’t you? The pain, the hopelessness—it was too vivid to have been a dream. Wasn’t it?

Your heart pounded as you sat upright, your body reacting before your mind could process. Your hands flew to your torso, desperate to find the bullet wounds that had felled you. But there were none. No blood, no pain. Nothing but smooth skin under your shirt.

But something was wrong. Your hands trailed over your arms, your fingers tracing the faint scars you’d accumulated over the years as Batgirl. Only… there weren’t as many as there should’ve been. You froze. Your heart raced as you stood up, scanning your room with frantic eyes.

Things weren’t where they were supposed to be. Some of the posters you’d taken down years ago were back on the walls, curling at the edges like they hadn’t moved in years. Old trinkets and keepsakes cluttered your desk—the ones you distinctly remembered throwing away. And the books you’d obsessively arranged last year? They were still in the chaotic, haphazard piles from years ago.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You turned sharply, catching movement in the corner of your eye—a reflection. Your reflection. In the mirror of your dressing table, you saw a face you barely recognized.

Your hair was longer, falling past your shoulders, untouched by the haphazard trims you’d been giving yourself since your late teens. Your face was softer, your features less defined. The heavy eye bags you’d earned through sleepless nights as Batgirl were faint, barely noticeable.

You stumbled closer, staring at yourself like you were seeing a ghost. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t who you were anymore. You looked… younger. Much younger.

Desperation clawed at you as you rushed to grab your phone from the bedside table. Your fingers trembled as you tapped the screen, and what you saw nearly sent you reeling.

The date on your phone.

Four years ago.

You weren’t 20 anymore. You were 16. Somehow, impossibly, you were back in the past.

just a retelling of this

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(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[janahanooo]

This is part 2 [you can find part 1 here]

Lilia: Silver, what do you think about getting another parent?

Silver: it's Yuu is it

Lilia: ah, you know me so well-

Silver: -thank god, I don't think they would have stopped talking about you for the rest of my life...

Lilia: oh

Sebek: HUMAN!

Yuu: please don't shout, my ears hurt

Sebek: oh, please forgive me, I just have a question.

Yuu: yes?

Sebek: is it true that you and Lilia-sama are getting married?

Yuu: I mean, yeah. He did propose to me the other day. Why? You don't want me to marry him?

Sebek: no no, I am indeed happy, just... please don't let him near the kitchen at all cost.

Yuu: right.

Sebek: and let me be your best man

Yuu: oh.

Yuu: sure! I intended to ask you or Silver anyways

Sebek: THANK YOU! I WILL BE THE BEST BEST MAN IN HISTORY!

Yuu: still no need to shout

Sebek: ☆^☆

Malleus: did you think this through?

Lilia: no ♡

Malleus: knew it

Lilia: come on! Yuu is going to be your new step-parent! And you guys are great friends!

Malleus: I wasn't talking about that. (And thinking that I need to call child of man my parents is just... weird)

Malleus: I was talking about this whole thing... they are human-

Lilia: -and I don't have much time left, I know.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: then I wish you to be happy

Lilia: you big baby♡

[byunpum]

I can be a better father | Part 5 (Ikran)

Pair: Tsu'tey x child-Grow up y/n

Warning: none, cute moments.

Note: Sorry for taking so long to answer the requests. I've had a lot of work these past few weeks, and I really haven't had much of a muse. And if I don't feel like writing, I'd better take a break so I can bring you more material. But still….thanks so much for the support!!!

Requests: (anon) Please could you make more chapters of tsu'tey and the children .. where y/n finds a dragon cub just like drogon. Also do one where spider gets an ikran even though he's human. PLEASE !!!

Avatar masterlist | Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Tsu'tey placed the last piece of wood to his hut, tightening it tightly against the other pieces. Stepping back to observe his work, this would be enough to keep spider from falling out of the tree hut again. The man had spent all morning preparing a type of ladder so that his human-children would not fall. They were still too small to climb on the hard bark of the tree, well…they could, but he didn't want them to hurt their hands. His children's skin was delicate, he thought asking Jake for help and advice on what he should do would help and here he was…looking at his work. For a first time doing stairs they didn't look bad, or so he thought.

He sat for a while on the floor, resting. He had sent the kids to play with his half-siblings, neytiri would take care of them. And he would have some time off for himself, but all peace of mind was interrupted when he heard the voice of his little Y/N. Turning his head to see his cute baby with an ikran…newborn. Ikran were territorial creatures, so they didn't usually leave their young alone. But here was her little girl, holding the baby ikran in her tiny arms. Well what she could hold, the creature was much bigger than she was. But Y/N was holding it lovingly, walking swiftly towards her father.

"Sempuuuu, look what I found!!!!" shouts the child. Tsu'tey didn't know how to answer, his mouth was open. He had so many questions at this moment, how on earth had she taken that. Tsu'tey gets up from the ground, running towards her daughter. The creature screams, and moves into her daughter's arms.

"Baby…how? Where did you get? By my eywa" speaks tsu'tey trying to calm down, reaching out to touch the baby ikran. But the baby tries to bite him. While his little girl laughs out loud. "I found him….his mom went and left him. I'm going to be his new mommy" Y/N speaks, hugging the child more. The little girl's tiny body sways backwards trying to control her balance. "baby…we must return this baby to his family, we can't take care of him. He belongs with his family" tsu'tey tries to explain to her little daughter that the little ikran belongs with his own kind.

The little one's face turns to one of distress, pouting. By this time the creature had already cowered in Y/N's arms. "sempu…he is alone, we could take care of him…as you have taken care of me and spider" Y/N speaks, oh no those words have crushed tsu'tey's heart. He was weak when his little girl spoke to him this way. Tsu'tey sighs, he didn't want to hurt his daughter's feelings. He fixes Y/N's hair a bit, apparently she had been doing a lot of mischief the last few hours. Her hair was quite a mess, some loose braids and tangled bits of hair.

"Honey…he must be with his own species" tsu'tey starts to speak, but his daughter interrupts him. One of her small hands, touches his forearm. Her little eyes were teary. "But we are not of the same species and you are our father, right?" The little girl speaks, leaving her father speechless again. She was right, he had decided to adopt them and take care of them no matter where they were from. To tsu'tey they were his children, and always would be. Reaching over to give his little daughter a kiss on the hair. "He can stay" tsu'tey watches as her daughter begins to jump for joy, while the creature jumps with her. "but only until he can take care of himself" tsu'tey orders, the little girl accepts all excited. Hugging the baby ikran tightly. Tsu'tey had to admit that ikran babies were not something he was happy about, they were noisy and difficult to take care of.

It was very strange that he was alone, so he decided to investigate the whereabouts of the mother of this creature. And after a week of failing in his search, he proved his daughter absolutely right. Apparently the mother had left him, and she had no one to take care of him. The little ikran had one wing bigger than the other. It was not much of a difference, but this was surely the reason why he was left. Tsu'tey was happy to see how his daughter was taking care of the baby, sleeping with him. Hunting for the little ikran to eat. She looked so cute, with her little bow hunting any creature smaller than herself to give to her baby ikran. The bigger the creature grew, the stronger the bond Y/N had with her.

As the years went by…while other youngsters had to train an ikran, bond with them. And create a connection. Y/N was already flying the skies of Pandora, with taw. So she decided to name her ikran. A beautiful ikran, blue and pink in color. This surprised a lot of people, humans are not able to create bonds like the na'vi do. It created a lot of doubt and curiosity among the na'vi community, humans could have more feelings than they thought.

While the other boys were trying to bond with the ikran, even the sully boys. Y/n was calmly petting her ikran. Tsu'tey watched them curiously, himself wondering how this was possible. Watching as his daughter, hugged the creature, and the ikran closed her eyes with love and a calmness that seemed like something magical. As if the two of them were one and the same person. "You know…having that kind of bond…it's something unique and special" tsu'tey says, with some mockery in his tone. He was rubbing it in jakesully's face, that his daughter had gotten an ikran first and more effectively than his sons. Jake pouts, but laughs. "I remind you that she is my daughter too" jakesully speaks, laughing as he sees tsu'tey stand up straight. Pushing him a little, and walking away from jake.

Tsu'tey walks towards his daughter, touching her hair. The girl looks up, giving her father a big smile. "Sempu…taw is more beautiful every day, don't you think so?" the girl speaks, seeing how her daddy looks at her with such admiration and adoration. "You're amazing sweetie" tsu'tey says, seeing how his little girl giggles. And she answers him with a ' I know'. Sitting down together to watch the training of the others.

[princessxt]

It took me a long time to finish this one, I'm sorry😔

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

You can see the list of who I write about here.

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Vampire, Chocolate and Heros

Pairing(s): Sam Winchester x Child!reader, Dean Winchester x Child!reader

Gender: Fluffy

Warnings: Common things in supernatural

Summary: A little girl is kidnapped by vampires and Sam and Dean need to save her and take her back to her parents

-——————♥︎♥︎——————-

Sam kicks the door, which opens with a bang and shatters on the floor, drawing the attention of the Vampires who surrounded Emily, the child who was taken from her bed during the night while her parents slept.

"Look, the famous Sam Winchester. Most of us are afraid of you, but I think today is the day to end you once and for all." The short-haired woman moves away from the chair Emily was tied to.

Sam paid no attention to the vampire, only to the little girl, who had her eyes full of fear and her face wet with tears that were streaming down her face.

The woman comes closer to Sam and tries to attack him, but he stops her and throws her to the ground, leaving her immobilized for a few seconds. The man who was next to the child comes to him and attacks him with a punch to the jaw, making the Winchester stagger back, giving space for the other vampire to get up.

Sam is not at a disadvantage, because behind the two, Dean arrives without making a sound and releases Emily, who runs to the corner of the room, hiding under a table.

Dean, seeing his brother cornered, goes to the vampires and cuts off their heads, making them fall immediately.

"Where is she?" Sam asks and Dean points to the table, where it is only possible to see the girl's small bare feet. They walk to the table slowly and bend down.

"Emily?" Dean asks, but there is no answer.

"It's okay, honey, we're not going to hurt you." Sam says calmly and slowly Emily moves the tablecloth away and leaves.

"Are you hurt?" Dean puts the knife aside while the girl shakes her head.

"It's okay. We're going to take you back to your parents," Sam says and picks up the girl.

Arriving at the motel where they were staying, Dean puts the girl to bed while Sam goes out to buy clothes for her, and not knowing what to do, Dean gives her some packets of snacks and chocolate bars to eat.

Sam arrives an hour or two later with some bags and upon entering the room, sees the scene with the child and immediately regrets having left the child in the care of his brother.

"Seriously?" Sam searches through one of the bags until he finds a natural sandwich and hands it to Emily, taking the snacks and chocolate out of her hand.

"She was hungry, what did you want me to give her? Beer?" Dean says as if it were obvious and Sam just ignores it, taking the clothes and other products bought for Emily from the bags.

Sam knew how to keep the child alive and Dean knew how to entertain her, so Emily quickly became attached to the brothers, but the Winchesters knew they needed to return her to her parents as soon as possible, since they had been without their daughter for over 4 days.

At bedtime, Sam changes Emily and sits next to her on the bed, and fearing the girl's sleep would be interrupted by nightmares, he prepares some princess stories to tell the child, but he didn't expect her to have a spike in energy throughout the night because of the sugar she ate with Dean.

"Look, you're the one who gave her the chocolates, you're the one who's going to put her to sleep," Sam says as he watches Emily jump from one bed to another while filling the room with laughter.

Dean, feeling his muscles ache and his head throbbing from sleep deprivation, goes to the child and catches her in the air during one of the jumps.

"You're tired! A lot happened today, you need to rest!" Dean says and the girl rests her head on his shoulder, snuggling in his lap. Dean feels his heart melt and lets out a smile at the act. Sam watches Dean carrying Emily from afar, while remembering his childhood, when his father was away and Dean took care of him.

The next morning, everyone woke up early and got ready to hit the road.

Emily was upset about waking up early, but Sam gave her some coloring books, play dough and a doll he had bought the night before to distract her, and so she did, sitting calmly in the backseat of the Impala.

"What are we going to tell her parents? We can't just go there and tell them we found her, eventually she'll start talking and tell them everything she saw," Sam said and Dean was thoughtful for most of the road.

The road was calm. Emily was already tired of the play dough and books, so at some point late in the afternoon, after eating some snacks, she took off her seatbelt, which was much bigger than her, and lay down on the seat, feeling her eyes heavy with sleep.

Sam, noticing the girl's movement in the back seat, looks back and sees the poor girl huddled up, feeling the late afternoon cold. He smiles and takes off the sweatshirt he was wearing and makes a small effort to put it over the child.

After a few more hours on the road, they stop in front of Emily's house.

"It's time," Dean says and gets out of the car, opening the back door to see Emily sleeping peacefully.

"Emily, honey. We're here," he whispers and Emily wakes up. Upon seeing the familiar place, a big smile appears on her face, and she quickly gets up.

Sam accompanies his brother and the child to the door and rings the bell, being answered by a man of about 35 years old, who had red eyes, purple circles under his eyes and a tired appearance.

"Can I help you?" The man's voice was weak.

"I think this is yours," Sam steps out of the way and points to Emily next to Dean.

"Daddy!!!" The little girl runs into her father's arms, who was in tears.A few seconds later, an extremely tired, sad-looking woman appears and begins to cry.

"Emily, my baby!" The girl screams and goes to her husband and daughter, kneeling beside them. The man stands up and hugs Sam.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Sam feels tears wet his shirt. The man breaks the hug and goes to Dean, hugging him. Dean just pats him on the back in return.

As the brothers were leaving, they hear a scream, and when they look back, they see Emily coming towards them.

She stops in front of them and extends her hand, handing them two small beaded bracelets. She smiles shyly and hugs each of the Winchesters.

Emily is too young to understand why this simple gesture was so meaningful to the brothers.

[doodle-pops]

Feanor Walking You Down The Aisle

Request: Hello, Mina darling, can I please request some small headcanons about asking Feänor to walk you down the aisle? The reader is marrying one of his sons (unmentioned) and she has no family in her life to do it, so she asks Feänor? Thank you for considering, darling. - Anon

A/N: This was fun to write! Thanks for requesting this!

◈ Growing up without a stable family in your life left you with no one. Not once had you ever felt welcomed or a part of the community until you met one of the Princes of the Noldor. A son of the Crown Prince Fëanáro fell in love with you without questioning your background at all.

◈ His family did all that they could to make you feel welcome, not to mention his brothers ensuring that you were a victim of all their daily bullying and antics to make you feel even more like family.

◈ His mother pitied and loved you tremendously, wanting nothing more than to take you in immediately. Nerdanel was ecstatic when she learnt of the betrothment news, meaning that you were about to become an official family. However, there was just one issue at hand, a lack of a father to walk you down the aisle and give you away to your husband.

◈ The only stable male figure in your life was your betrothed’s father and you were unsure if he would be willing to walk down the aisle and give you away to his son. Not once were you on the receiving end of his temper or ill-manners a few people had spoken about, so it seemed all well to make the request.

◈ You’re nervous about the request, so you ask your betrothal if he could arrange a brunch or tea for all three of you to meet as the wedding is approaching. There, you sat, appearing like a bag of jitters before Feanor who was confused at your uneasiness.

◈ In the beginning, everything was running smoothly at the behest of your beloved. Aware of your nerves, he took over and got the conversation rolling between him and his father, occasionally including you at certain times appropriate to throw the question out there.

◈ But you’re unable to for the greater part of the conversation. So Feanor interjects, aware that you have something on your mind and requests if he should depart to give you and his son alone time to deal with the matter.

◈ At his thoughtfulness, your words tumbled out your mouth before you even knew it, and there you confessed your wish to have him walk you down the aisle as your father.

◈ On Feanor’s end, he was appalled that you would have considered him so high in your eyes to fulfil that offer. Being seen not only as your father-in-law but as an actual fatherly figure makes him forego considering and directly accepting.   

◈ He ignores the fact that you blurted it out in a vomit of random syllables and removes himself from his chair to usher you into a stance. He is gentle and soft as he celebrates your request with a fatherly embrace and soft words that put him into a chokehold.

◈ “You have brought great joy to me onya. It would be foolish of me to reject your wonderful offer.”

◈ On your big day, any nerves that you had were all washed away by Feanor’s presence at your side as he stood at the end of the aisle bequeathing courage and reassurance that he won’t let you fall or slip up. “It is a father’s job to never let his child fall.”

◈ Your entire wedding ceremony passes in bliss as Feanor takes his time to guide you down the aisle, he even offers his handkerchief to you when you teared up at the altar. During the entire ceremony, he sits patiently with a smile at the memory of walking you down the aisle as his child.

◈ Furthermore, to sink it in that you consider him as a father figure, for the father-daughter dance, you request that he join you on the floor to share that moment with you.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @addaigio @lamemaster @stormchaser819

[gatitties]

can i ask for something based on my daily suffering? It's interesting (or not) something fluff, welcoming, consoling, kind and gentle, I need happy things

Headcanons or Scenario for Red Hired and Whitebeard ( Whitebeard's daughter)

-My friends won't talk to me after a little annoying fight after I said how I felt about myself and apologized for something I shouldn't have, now my friends won't talk to me (whatever I was already alone)

-I'm desperate about grades in high school and no one wants to understand my situation of extreme anxiety, panic and depression

-I am not getting psychiatric and psychological help

-my cat died, now I'm suffering

-I tried against my life

-I don't have anyone to talk to about it, I'm practically alone

- I hate myself

Sorry for that, do it if you want, thank you 🫶

─Red Hair Pirates & Whitebeard Pirates x fem!reader

─Summary: You are not having the best days but your family and friends make you see that you should not drown in a glass of water

─Warnings: none

I feel your loss :( and hey, everyone argues from time to time, things can be solved by talking if both parties want to work it out, I hope you are feeling better now love, feel free to message me if you need anything! 🫶🏻

Your mood was really shitty lately, you argued with some important people over something silly, nothing seemed to go your way and you thought you were being a complete nuisance to all of your father's crew right now, so you decided to run away for a few weeks hoping a break would lift your spirits.

It seems you couldn't enjoy your alone time either because it just made you overthink the situation you were in which caused anxiety to kick in, everything was going so bad lately that you couldn't take it anymore, you needed to unload everything you had but you did not find any psychologist or doctor who convinced you to be able to try to calm your mind.

You were in the middle of a mental breakdown, in the middle of nowhere, on your way to another island when you saw it in the distance, you hadn't seen them many times, but you knew the Red-Haired Pirates, you thought it was better not to bother them considering your state in deplorable spirits, but once Shanks saw the ship with Whitebeard's mark on it it was inevitable that you would not end up aboard his ship.

The screams, belches and music made you shudder at first, too used to your deafening stupid thoughts, you looked like a little animal about to be run over while you watched all those men dance and drink without worries.

"What's the long face? This is a party, you should celebrate!"

Yassop patted you on the back offering you a drink which you refused, Benn denied seeing the interaction, coming closer to see how little receptive you were, he knew that something was occupying your mind now and it wasn't a party exactly what you had in mind.

"Don't listen to this idiot, you can do whatever you want, you can even hit Shanks if you want."

A grimace similar to a smile appeared on your face, a bit amused by Benn's words, apparently he summoned the redhead just by saying his name.

"What's up with me?"

"Oh nothing, we were just planning the way to kick you."

"Again? You should stop inciting our guests to hit me!" he looked at you, changing his silly smile to a fake look of a kicked puppy "Don't listen, okay? I know you're better than that! Someone like you wouldn't kick me, would you?"

You were amused by his nonsense, sharing a quick glance with the other two men, the grimace on your face turning into a wider smile.

"I don't know, the offer sounds good, what do I get if I kick it?"

"It!?"

Ignoring Shanks's betrayed expression, Benn and Yassop looked at you laughing, both patting their captain on the back making him take a step closer to you.

"Whatever you want! As long as you hit him with your greatest force."

"Hey! I'm the captain what the hell is wrong with you?"

They started a silly argument which the others joined in, making you chuckle slightly at the absurd situation, this little visit didn't exactly fix your problems, but spending time with this crew made you clear your mind and feel a little better, you decided you could deal with your problems a little later, for now you needed to release some tension.

Coping with the loss of a pet, arguing with some friends, feeling like everything you do is not paying off, it all came crashing down on you like a storm hitting hard, you felt so bad you didn't even want to bother your father with your problems or the others.

You felt miserable, the days began to go by like a blur, unable to leave your room or socialize a bit, you felt alone and locked up, you were terrified of facing your father to talk about your problems thinking that you would only be a burden to the whole the crew, you felt bad asking for help even if you needed it.

And, honestly, you would have kept drowning in your own misery if it hadn't been for Ace noticing your absence, he could tell you weren't fine pretty quickly, although he didn't want to push you, he felt that you were simply making things worse for yourself by locking yourself away.

He asked Marco for help because he knew that he could not approach the subject delicately, the least he wanted to do was cause you to have an anxiety attack because of him, he did not want to be abrupt or direct when talking about the subject, so it was Marco who asked you how were you.

You didn't know if it was due to despair or mental exhaustion but you ended up telling between sobs that you weren't feeling well, that lately you felt that everything was against you and that your life became a constant uphill.

"Okay, calm down, everyone has bad streaks, does your father know anything about this?"

"N-no…"

"You don't need to say it right away if you're not comfortable, but talking to him will calm you down, it's stupid for me to say it but Whitebeard is a kind man, your father will understand you perfectly."

You nodded, burying your face in his shoulder, tightening the hug a little more before letting him go, it took a couple more days before you faced your father, it was hard for you to open up about the situation but Marco was right, once you let go everything, your father hugged you saying that everything would be fine.

"Oh my daughter, you should not worry, life turns its back on you sometimes so you have to stay strong, please, if there is something that can cheer you up right now I will do it for you immediately."

Your father's devotion to making you dear raised your spirits a lot, you smiled widely, denying his proposal for the moment, there was nothing he could do right now, you just wanted to hang out with the others since you had wasted a lot of time locked up.

"Oh look, isn't she my favorite girl? It's good to see you around here again, come on, just tell me what you want and you'll have it as fast as possible."

You laughed slightly at Thatch's enthusiasm to see you appear in the kitchen, ordered your favorite dish and got to work, while Izo walked in just to pick up something he'd forgotten, although he did stop to talk to you about some gossip you'd lost, put you up to date with everything.

"Is that food I smell? Can I have one piece?"

"No way, back down demon!"

And the peaceful gossip talk went overboard when Ace came into the kitchen drooling from the smell of your food, you and Izo laughed as Thatch tried to hit Ace with a spatula to scare him away, a small fight started in the one where the cook was juggling your plate while trying to keep the other boy from touching your food.

You lost it when Ace tripped over a cloth on the floor, grabbing onto Thatch's apron which knocked the plate into the air, they both fell to the floor and mysteriously the plate remained intact right on top of the cook's toupee. Izo smiled seeing how you laughed at the dumbest fall you'd seen so far, everyone knew that you hadn't been feeling very well lately and seeing that you were beginning to have a better mood made them happy.

[str4wb3rr1e]

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 🍌

Bill Kaulitz x bi!daughter!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With another deep sigh you were ready, ready to get this out and over with. You liked girls— well, you really liked girls and that wouldn’t be that big of a deal if you weren’t also a girl.

You knew how people and the media saw you, weird, wrong, shameful. So for years you hid it, you hid your feelings in a box and tossed it under your bed, until the box finally overflowed. You needed to get it out, you needed to express yourself, how long were you going to hide for?

You made your way towards the kitchen island, taking a seat in front of your dad who was painfully bad at making banana shakes.

“Ugh! I can’t get this thing right!” Your father huffed hitting the jammed machine with his right fist. “Dad calm down, hey— it’s not even plugged in!” You chuckled lifting up the thick cable on your hand.

“Ah, would you be such an angle and plug it in for me?” Bill relaxed into smiled as you chucked shaking your head. The blender finally started as the (awful looking) ingredients started to mix into a shake.

This was the perfect time, you thought, the blender was too loud for your dad to hear you so if you chicken out last second and regret your words there was coming back from this.

“Dad…” you mumbled obviously not masking the roaring machine, “Dad I’m into girls!” You shouted a bit louder than the blander, just enough for Bill to actually hear you.

He immediately stopped his actions, froze in place and didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t sure if he had even heard you right. “You like girls?” He asked as if he was asking you what day it was.

The way his question came out surprised you a bit, I mean— you weren’t expecting your dad to lash out yes… but you didn’t expect him to be that chill either.

“Yes… I like girls— And men! A bit.” You blurted tugging on the sleeves of your hoodie. Bill’s smile grew as he abandoned his masterpiece (devil poison) and ran over to hug you.

This hug was a special hug, like the ones you would get when you would fall out of your scooter and scrape your knee, the ones you’d get while getting shots at the doctors. It felt safe, you felt accepted and loved.

It didn’t take long enough before Bill started to question you about your crushes, the thing he was mostly curious about “So… Heather B?…”,

“Dad, oh my god! No!”

“What! I was just asking!”

[itsfairly]

Saw a tiktok about how Miguel would get heated up during Gabriela's soccer games and just start screaming and shit. You know, total fifas move. And I just wanna say I want someone to write that. Have him screaming and crying midgame things like "NO ERA PENAL" or just losing his mind everytime Gaby's team scored. Pls, I'm asking nicely.

[fluffysourpatch]

His little cherub

Copia x Child Daugther!Oc

// Words 3043 //

Warnings: beginning angst but then pure fluff! Copia a loving father to his little daugther!.

Copia looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk, picking up his cup of coffee and taking a sip before speaking. "Come in." He calls out to the person behind the door, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair, fixing his posture and combing his fingers through his hair to appear more presentable.

inside came Gigi his only daughter 5 years old who he adopted. “Daddy? Can we play?” she asked him but Copia has a lot of duties to do

Copia sighed, but smiled softly. “Maybe tomorrow, kiddo.” He answered, ruffling her hair. “Go play with your toys for now, okay?” Copia looked over his papers again, before leaning back in his chair. It seemed his little girl always knew exactly when he was busy.

“But I wanna play with you!” she stomped her feet

Copia looked up from his paper, looking toward Gigi. “My child, I wish for nothing more than to give you all of my attention, but I still have work to do!” He sighed in exasperation. “Please, do me a kindness and play with your dolls, or your crayons, or anything else; I promise I will play with you when I have time…” Copia said, his frustration melting as he saw Gigi’s frown. “Please, Gigi, be a good child.”

“But to play with my dolls is boring! They won't response! she exclaimed and stomped her feet again I wanna play with you!” her frown turns into anger.

Copia let out an aggravated sigh. “Mia cara, Gigi… I know you wish to play with me, but I am too busy… if this were any other day then I could play with you, but I need to finish this pile of paperwork so I might get to bed at a reasonable hour. Please, I am only asking that you play with your toys for now.” Copia said, trying his best to appear stern and firm.

Gigi walks up to him and took some pen from the desk as she threw it at him angrily “NO I WANNA PLAY!” she yells but the pen didn´t hit Copia.

Copia sighed quietly, rubbing his temples. This was getting annoying. “Il mio bambino, please do not make this difficult. I just need you to play with your toys for a moment. I need to do my work… please, just wait for me. I promise I’ll play a little later…” Copia said, his tone more tired than annoyed this time.

“But I wanna play with you!!” she yells again and starts to hit the desk. Copia’s patience was beginning to wear thin. This had gone on for long enough. Gigi was going to learn how hard work was, and that he just couldn’t always get his way whenever he wished. “Bambino, this behavior is unacceptable. Play with your toys, and learn to be patient because I cannot…” he paused for a moment, realizing he didn’t want to yell at this sweet little girl, but she certainly wouldn’t listen if he didn’t. “I cannot play with you right now.” Copia said sternly.

and then she pushed Copia to his limit as she went up to him and kicked his leg angrily.

“Gigi, stop this instant!” Copia shouted, his voice loud for the first time today. “I have to finish this paperwork, and I cannot do that if you continually distract me and beg me for playtime. Do I make myself clear? Please, mia cara, stop this behavior. I cannot play with you right now, and you must learn to respect that, to be patient and accepting of the situation. What is it that I must do…” Copia trailed off, shaking his head angrily and trying to regain his composure. Gigi jumped as his voice raised against her, never in her life did he scream at her or lost his patience with her. Her eyes widened and took a step back. Copia took a deep breath, realizing that he was scaring his little girl. He sighed, rubbing the side of his face and smiling softly. “Tesoro, I am so very sorry for yelling, I am just… tired, and I need to get done this paperwork. You must play with your toys until I have enough time to play with you, as I promised. Will you promise me this?” Copia said, kneeling down next to Gigi. but she didn´t listened to Copia, she turned around to run out of the office without a word. Copia sighed, looking toward the door. “Gigi, come back here, please. Mi dispiace Tesoro…” Copia sighed again, looking out the window before looking at the papers in front of him once more. “Oh dear…” he muttered to himself silently.

As Gigi was running away from the office, she run the hallway and reached a door she knocked fast without stopping.

Sodo let out a sigh as he heard the door knock. He rose from his desk and opened the door, seeing Gigi standing there. “Hello, little one.” He said softly. “Is everything alright?” Sodo looked puzzled.

she shook her head as tears are spilling from her eyes “daddy screamed at me!” she sobs trying to wipe her tears with her tiny hands.

Sodo put his hand on Gigi's shoulder, taking a moment to crouch down and speak to her at her level. "Sweetie, did you know that your daddy was working? He is very busy right now and doesn't have time to play with you right now, however, he still loves you very much. Maybe he yelled at you because he's just stressed out right now, and he's still adjusting to his job." Sodo says, trying to comfort the young girl.

“But I wanted to play with him... “she cries “he didn’t play with me a long time ago... I miss papa” she sobs

Sodo sighs, standing up taking Gigi in his arms. “Darling, you can’t play with Papa right this moment… but I can. And it’ll be like having a big brother for a while. I’ll play with you until it’s time for you and your papa to go to bed, okay sweetie? Is that okay with you?” Sodo asked her, smiling gently.

She nods at him with tears in her face as she smiles at him and giggles plus cries the same time. “We can play together?” She asked him again wanting to know if he really wants to play with her.

“Of course, we can, sweetheart! Let’s play with the dolls over here, alright?” Sodo said, walking toward a toybox on the other side of the room because sometimes Gigi always left her dolls at Sodo’s room so he made a box to put them inside. “I wonder which doll you’re going to pick…” he muttered to himself as he began opening the box and picking out the toy. He smiled softly before giving Gigi a hug and turning around, waiting for her to grab a doll, any doll.

Sodo smiled as he watched Gigi take a doll from the box. “Which doll did you pick?” Sodo asked, crouching down next to the youngster as she shows him which doll she picked, as he is speaking at her own level again. “Let’s start playing!” he said, his tone cheerful.

she giggles and starts to play with Sodo

Sodo picked up the other doll as well, speaking with a sweet, high-pitched voice as he started playing with Gigi. He would mimic her and her doll’s voices to add to the game; he always enjoyed entertaining children, and he was especially close to Gigi. He always wanted her to have the best childhood, even if it meant helping out to relieve her father from a bit of his stress.

after some playing Gigi fall asleep on Sodo’s bed with the doll in her hand

Sodo let out a soft chuckle at the sight of Gigi sleeping. She was absolutely adorable when she slept. Sodo made sure to tuck Gigi in for the evening, smiling softly as he adjusted the blanket. "Sleep well, my little lamb.", Sodo whispered to the young girl.

Copia stepped into the room, still in his robes, and saw Gigi sleeping peacefully in Sodo's arms. He cleared his throat. "Hello, Sodo." Copia said calmly, approaching both Gigi and his Ghoul "Oh, lord..." Copia muttered, watching both Gigi and Sodo interacting in the room. "Is she...? Did something happen?" He asked the question of Sodo, his expression a mix of bewilderment, concern, and anxiety.

Sodo looked up at Copia, smiling softly as he held Gigi protectively. "No, it's quite alright, Copia. She came crying to me, so I took her into my room for a little while. She had said you yelled at her." Sodo answered, his tone gentle and warm. He looked over at Gigi calmly.

Copia nodded silently, feeling even more concern wash through him as he watched Sodo gently rocking Gigi in his arms. With a heavy sigh, he stepped forward and looked down at his daughter, touching a strand of her hair that was falling on her face. "mio piccolo amore," Copia said softly, touching Gigi's cheek. He looked up at Sodo. "Mi dispiace tanto, Sodo." Copia said, his tone soft and worried.

Copia continued to stare at Gigi, his expression one of sadness, guilt, and remorse. He turned to Sodo, who gently patted Gigi's head as she slept. "Grazie Sodo. Please, take good care of her, won't you?", Copia said softly. He then turned to Gigi carefully, gently kissing her forehead. "I am sorry for yelling at you, Gigi. I am so sorry... ti amo mio piccolo angelo"

the next morning, Gigi woke up to Sodo’s bed alone. Gigi sat up slowly in Sodo's bed, feeling slightly confused. She knew she remembered playing with Sodo, but he wasn't in the room anymore. She looked around, feeling slightly alone and slightly scared. Where was Sodo? Where was her papa?

She tried to remember exactly why she had been in Sodo's room in the first place. She knew he was playing with her, but her memory felt fuzzy. Did she remember what happened yesterday? Was her papa mad at her? She couldn't remember.

she stood up and walked with her little legs out of the room. She went to the dining room where the sisters of sin were serving the food for the ghouls. There she saw Copia “daddy!” she came running to him

Copia was eating a light breakfast with one of the Ghouls. He smiled gently as he saw Gigi run toward him. He got up from his chair and picked her up, giving her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, la mia piccola colomba.” Copia said, his tone full of the affection that was always there when it came to Gigi. “Did you have a good time with Sodo last night?” he asked her.

“Yes, we played together and had lots of fun!” she giggled and hugs him tight with her arms and legs around “I miss you daddy...” she whispers to him as she hides her face at his neck.

Copia felt warm inside as he felt Gigi hug him. He gently ran his fingers through her hair, smiling at her. “I am so glad you had the joy of spending time with your uncle last night, my little Tesoro, I am sorry I have not been able to spend a lot of time with you the past few months, I am simply so busy.” Copia said, his tone soft.

He then lifted Gigi up a bit, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I promise, though, that once I finish some paperwork, we can play some more Si?”

“But when are you finished?” she asked sadly “I can’t wait anymore papa...”

Copia held Gigi close, smiling softly as he felt her hugging him tightly. "Colomba, I should be finished by lunch time Si? Will that be okay with you?" Copia said, his tone soft and gentle. "Do you think you can wait just a bit longer? Please." he said, looking into Gigi's eyes.

“C-can I stay with you then while you work?... I promise I will be quiet... “she booped her nose with his nose while looking at him

Copia’s expression softened as Gigi booped noses with him. The young girl was utterly adorable, and despite how busy he was, Copia couldn’t help but melt with each gesture of affection.

“Of course, Tesoro” he said softly, “and you don't need to promise; you’re always such a good little girl, it’s one of the things I am proud of most.” Copia said, his love and affection flowing through his sweet words.

Copia chuckled as he felt Gigi’s stomach growl. “Ah, it seems you must be quite hungry. Let us go see if the sisters are done cooking your food.” Copia said, carrying Gigi as he turned around to walk out of the room. As he walked away, he placed a kiss on Gigi’s forehead; a sweet gesture he had never done with any other child.

after they ate, they went to his office. Copia was doing his paperwork and Gigi was playing or drawing silently beside him, sometimes between drawing she reaches for his hand to hold it for some Minutes.

Copia sighed as he looked back over at his papers, focusing on his work again. Then he felt Gigi’s hand sneaking with his, he smiles softly and squeezes her hand.

As he looked down at the papers in front of him, feeling a bit of guilt wash over him. Gigi was only looking for his attention; she was only a little girl. She wanted to play, she wanted to be loved, she wanted him to be proud of her. “Hmm…” Copia spoke out loud, thinking. He set down his pen and put the papers in front of him to the side.

Gigi was drawing her and papa in a picture holding hands as they do right now. She looks up at him and then asked softly “can I sit on your lap daddy? O-or... Is it distracting you from work...?”

Copia smiled gently, his eyes warming at the scene of Gigi drawing him and her together. He reached down and picked Gigi up to sit her in his lap, kissing her gently. "Of course, you can." he said softly, "This is the best part of my day, having my beautiful little girl in my lap." Copia brushed back Gigi's hair, and spoke to her as he looked at what she was drawing. "And whatever you are drawing must be so beautiful. Can I see it when you are done?" She hums a quiet yes as she continues drawing and waggling with her tiny legs

Copia nodded gently, smiling as he felt her weight in his lap, and felt Gigi humming softly, probably in content. He looked down to check out what Gigi was doing, still watching her draw. “Hey, Gigi? I am proud of you.” he said softly, his voice warm and full of affection.

“You are?” she said as her eyes sparkle, “I am also proud of you daddy!” she giggles

“Why, yes. Of course, love. You are the most important thing in my life, my little cherub. And every tiny accomplishment you make, makes me the proudest papa in the world, do you hear me?” Copia said softly, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. He brushed her hair away from her face, his fingers gently brushing past her cheeks, “And what about this? Eh? You said you were proud of me, too. Why would you say that?” he asked, looking down at Gigi.

“Uhm... Because you work very hard... You work hard for me, for the people who loves you outside... Uhm what where they called... Fans”

"Ohh, yes, mio piccolo amore. That's correct! Fans. And yes, I do work for them. But I work hard for you, too. You are my most precious thing, and I do everything in my power to protect you, and make you happy. Ti amo, Gigi." Copia said softly, his smile as warm as always. He gently stroked her hair again, letting the warmth from his touch comfort the young girl.

After that Copia continues to work on his papers and Gigi on her drawing still sitting on his lap.

Copia sighed and picked up Gigi from his lap. "Tesoro It's time for you to go to bed," he said softly. Gigi looked at him for a moment, a tiny frown on her face. "...But papa... I wanna spend more time with you." she said, her tone sounding almost pleading. Copia looked at her a moment, smiling softly, "Come. Let me take you to bed." He said, gently, taking Gigi back to her room. As they arrived, he laid her down on her bed, putting the blanket over her and rests his hand on her forehead smiling.

Gigi glanced at him with her happy smile as she asked him “Can you stay with me? And read me a bedtime story? Please?” Copia smiled softly at Gigi's request, nodding slowly. "Si, Tesoro. I can stay with you tonight, and if you'd like, I can even read you a bedtime story." He said, kissing her cheek.

Copia read Gigi her favorite bedtime story as she hugged him tightly to her. It was a story of a king who loved his daughter deeply and took her hunting, to share in his favorite past time with her. Copia smiled as he read, looking down at Gigi as they cuddled closely to him. She was precious, more precious than anything in the world to him, and he was so happy she was his little angel.

Eventually, though, Gigi's eyes began to flutter with sleep. She looked up at Copia one last time, her face showing her love for him. And then, she fell asleep

Copia looked down at Gigi as her eyes closed. He gently set her down on her pillow, her small frame buried underneath the covers of the bed. Copia leaned down and kissed her forehead, his expression full of love and affection.

“buonanotte mio piccolo tesoro prezioso.” Copia whispered softly, turning off the light in the room before closing the door, leaving little Gigi to happily sleep.

______________________________________________________________

Hii! I always wanted to write a Copia with his daughter story! and well here I am! i hope you like it and i hope the Italian words are not wrong! whoops it would be embarrassed if they are not correct. sorryyy! :p

If you want a Part Two, leave a comment! :) <3

[rizzanon]

Background Info 2 (Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, Damian, Duke Centered)

I think your relationship with Tim is more complicated than you wanted it to be. When he first came about to the family, he was the reason you found out about your family’s secrets. The ones that they’ve been hiding from you from the start. And for some reason, as a kid, you didn’t know whether you should be thankful, or hate him for that.

Why? Because the truth was a double-edged sword. On one hand, you had always felt like something was off about your family—the late nights, the unexplained bruises and injuries, the way they avoided topics like they were landmines. Tim revealing the truth was like solving a puzzle you didn’t know you were piecing together. But on the other hand, the truth came with a weight you hadn’t been prepared for before.

A part of you wanted to be grateful—Tim had given you the truth when no one else had. But another part of you couldn’t help but resent him. It was as if he had stolen the illusion of normalcy you clung to, replacing it with danger, secrets, and an overwhelming realization how much more you actually needed to do to get the approval of your family.

For the first few months of Tim being Robin, you didn’t see him as anything other than Jason’s replacement.

Jason had been your brother in every sense of the word. A little rough around the edges, sure, but he had a way of making you feel seen, even when the rest of the family was too caught up in their own world to notice you. So when he died, it left a gaping hole—not just in the family but in you. When Tim came along and slid into Jason’s place like it was as simple as filling a role, it was hard not to hate him for it.

You avoided him at first, ignored all of his attempts to be friendly or cordial. You refused to acknowledge him as anything other than “the new Robin.” You knew it was childish, but you were only 12 then. It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but grief doesn’t lend itself to rationality. Eventually, though, you started to let go of that resentment. He wasn’t Jason, but he wasn’t trying to be him either. He was just Tim.

So, you decided to try. He was close to your age, after all, and you figured, at the very least, you could be friends. But Tim didn’t seem to feel the same way. To him, you were Batman’s daughter, that was it. He kept things polite and distant, never letting you close enough to feel like anything more than an acquaintance.

That dynamic didn’t really shift until the death of his father. When Jack Drake was killed by Captain Boomerang, and Bruce formally adopted Tim, you felt for him in a way you hadn’t before. Losing a parent was a kind of pain you couldn’t imagine, and for the first time, you saw him as more than just “the new Robin”. You pitied him.

You tried to comfort him, offering him a shoulder to lean on and small acts of kindness. But Tim didn’t want your pity. If anything, it seemed to make him pull away even further. He started treating you less like family, and more like a roommate—someone he tolerated living with but didn’t go out of his way to connect with.

You didn’t push him. If that’s what he needed, fine. But you still wanted to be close to him, so you found other ways to try. You’d ask him for help with missions and cases, knowing how smart and capable he was, hoping it might bridge the gap between you. For a while, it worked—or at least, it felt like it did. But over time, Tim’s frustration began to show. He never said it outright, but his body language spoke volumes: the tight set of his jaw, the way he’d sigh when you approached, the way his answers grew shorter and more clipped.

Eventually, you stopped asking.

And that’s how it’s been ever since. The two of you drifted into a rhythm, more like estranged colleagues or roommates than siblings, or in the very least, friends. You didn’t mind—at least, that’s what you told yourself. But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if things could’ve been different, if you had acted differently from the very start.

When Cassandra first joined the family, you were slightly excited because, for the first time, you had a sister. An older one, in fact. It felt like a chance to have someone who might understand you in a way the others didn’t.

But then you found out that she didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak, write, or even read. The excitement you felt faltered, replaced by confusion and uncertainty. How were you supposed to bond with someone when you couldn’t even talk to them? At the time, you didn’t fully understand the extent of her struggles or the horrors she had endured. All you saw was the surface—a girl who communicated through body language and a few cryptic gestures.

At first, you weren’t sure how to approach her. Conversations were one-sided, and you found yourself rambling awkwardly, trying to fill the silence. She would watch you intently, her dark eyes seeming to take in every word, every movement, but she never responded. It made you feel exposed, like she could see through every layer you tried to hide behind.

Still, you tried. You offered to help her learn, even though you weren’t exactly the best teacher. You’d leave sticky notes with simple words written on them, hoping she’d start to recognize them. Sometimes she’d glance at them, but other times, she’d brush past them as if they weren’t there.

It was disheartening at first, but then there were moments that gave you hope. A small smile when you handed her something. A nod of acknowledgment when you rambled about your day. Slowly, you began to realize that Cassandra spoke volumes without ever saying a word.

But even as you grew to understand her, there was a part of you that wondered if she ever really saw you the same way. She bonded so quickly with Bruce, with Barbara, even with Tim. They seemed to understand her in ways you couldn’t, and it made you feel like an outsider all over again.

You wanted to be close to her, to have the sisterly relationship you’d always imagined, but it felt like you were chasing something that was always just out of reach. Cassandra was kind, patient even, but there was always a distance—an invisible wall that kept you from getting too close. You weren’t sure if it was something she put up or something you did.

But when she was getting mire familiar with speaking and reading, you noticed that she started to avoid you. Subtly. Cassandra didn’t see you as someone to guide or protect. In her eyes, you were fragile, someone who didn’t belong in the same world of violence and shadows that had shaped her. She didn’t want you to go down this path, in a way, she wanted you to live your life away from this.

But that’s not what you wanted. When you tried to train with her, hoping to gain her approval, she’d effortlessly disarm you, her movements almost lazy. “Not ready,” she’d say bluntly, walking away without further explanation. You were left feeling small, unworthy. And in a way, that sparked the initial tension between you and her.

As the years went by though, you hated that you were feeling jealous over the fact that your father seemed to see Cassandra as more of a daughter than with you. You’ve seen the way they bonded, seen the way Bruce’s usually stoic demeanor softened ever so slightly when Cassandra was around. It wasn’t like he ignored you, but it was different. With Cassandra, there was a shared understanding, an unspoken connection forged in the language of the battlefield—a language you never quite mastered.

You tried to convince yourself it didn’t bother you. After all, Bruce was distant with everyone, wasn’t he? But the more you watched him mentor her, the more you saw the effort he put into helping her grow—not just as a fighter, but as a person—the harder it became to push those feelings of inadequacy aside.

Cassandra, for her part, didn’t seem to notice how much it hurt. Or if she did, she didn’t say anything. She was focused, always pushing herself to be better, stronger, faster. And you… you felt like you were standing still, trying to catch up but never quite reaching her.

The jealousy festered quietly. You hated feeling that way toward her, especially when she hadn’t done anything wrong. She deserved Bruce’s attention. She deserved to be seen. But so did you. And no matter how hard you tried, it felt like you were always coming up short in his eyes.

Over time, you started pulling back. You stopped asking her to train with you. Stopped leaving notes or trying to initiate conversations. Instead, you kept to yourself, throwing yourself into missions and tasks that didn’t involve her or Bruce. Maybe if you worked hard enough, fought hard enough, they’d finally see you as an equal.

But the distance didn’t fix anything. It only made the loneliness worse. You missed the small moments with Cassandra, the fleeting smiles and quiet nods. And even though you’d never admit it out loud, you missed the rare moments of connection with Bruce too.

The truth was, you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between you and Cassandra—or anyone in the family, for that matter. You were stuck in a cycle of trying too hard and pulling away, and no matter what you did, it never felt like enough.

And as for Stephanie, you two have never actually been close. At first, you just saw her as Tim’s girlfriend, and that was it. You didn’t pay her much attention beyond that. But things shifted dramatically when Barbara and Dick allowed her to take up the Batgirl mantle while your father was “dead.”

The first time you saw her in her version of the Batgirl costume, it felt like the world stopped. That symbol, that legacy—it was supposed to mean something, and seeing her wear it felt like a betrayal. Dick brought her along as Batgirl during his time as Batman, with Damian as his Robin, and the sight of them together cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

You felt replaced. Tossed aside. Forgotten. And that feeling lit a fire in you—a desperate, burning need to prove that you deserved to be Batgirl more than Stephanie ever did. This wasn’t just about the costume or the name; it was about everything it represented. Respect. Recognition. Family.

So, yes, it became a one-sided rivalry, fueled by jealousy and betrayal. You trained harder, worked yourself to the brink, but no matter how much you pushed, it never felt like enough. Stephanie had been doing this longer than you had, and her experience showed. But that didn’t make it sting any less when you watched her work alongside Dick and Damian with an ease you couldn’t seem to replicate.

When your father returned, you thought things would change—that maybe this would be your chance to finally step into the role you’d been striving for. But even then, Stephanie remained Batgirl, and Bruce seemed to call on her more often than he did you. For recon missions, patrols, you name it—she was his go-to. It hurt, deeply.

And when Stephanie eventually stepped down from being Batgirl to return to her original mantle as Spoiler, it didn’t bring you the satisfaction you thought it would. You didn’t “win.” There was no triumph, no validation that you were the better Batgirl. Stephanie left on her own terms, and that only made it worse.

You felt like you’d lost. Lost the unspoken competition you’d waged in your own head, lost your chance to prove your worth. And that sense of failure—it ate away at you, leaving behind a bitterness you couldn’t shake. Instead of quelling your insecurities, it only made them worse, fueling a toxic cycle of self-doubt and a relentless need to prove yourself.

Maybe in another life, things would’ve been different. Maybe you and Stephanie could’ve been friends, allies even. But the weight of your own jealousy and toxic mentality made that impossible. You wanted to reach out, to connect, but every time you tried, that voice in your head reminded you of all the ways you’d fallen short. And so, the distance between you and Stephanie only grew, just like it had with everyone else.

As for Damian, your relationship with him has always been a mixed bag. When he first showed up at the manor, you didn’t know what to make of him. He was brash, arrogant, and entirely too confident for someone so young. At first, you thought he was just some spoiled brat with a superiority complex. And honestly? You weren’t far off.

He didn’t waste any time asserting himself, loudly proclaiming that he was the true heir to Batman’s legacy and making it clear he saw you as competition. Not a sibling, not even an ally—just someone to outmatch. He called you soft, mocked your fighting skills, and dismissed your efforts to keep the peace as weakness. It was exhausting, to say the least.

At the same time, though, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him. He’d been thrust into a completely unfamiliar world, taken from the League of Assassins and dropped into the Wayne family chaos. It was clear he didn’t know how to connect with anyone, and for all his bravado, there was something lonely about him.

You tried to bridge the gap at first, hoping to at least build a sense of camaraderie. But Damian made it difficult. He was quick to push you away, and any attempt to be friendly was met with biting remarks or scornful looks. Over time, you learned to keep your distance, picking your battles carefully.

What made it worse was how Bruce and Dick always seemed to take his side. When he antagonized you or picked fights, their solution was always the same:

“Be patient with him,” or, “He’s still adjusting. Give him time.”

But how could you? He was the one who started the fights, who insulted you at every opportunity. No one seemed to care about that part.

Still, as much as Damian constantly undermined you, there were moments—fleeting and rare—when you noticed something different. He wasn’t as dismissive as he pretended to be. There were times when you’d find your weapons repaired after training or your notes on a case mysteriously corrected. He never said anything about it, and you never brought it up, but you knew it was him.

Even his insults, as cruel as they were, sometimes felt… purposeful. Like he was testing you, pushing you to be better. At first, you thought it was just an excuse you made up to deal with his attitude, but over time, it became clear that his criticism wasn’t entirely baseless. Damian had a way of pointing out your flaws in a way no one else did—harshly, yes, but sometimes accurately.

As the years went on, your dynamic shifted. The outright animosity faded, though it never disappeared entirely. There were still arguments, snide remarks, and moments where you swore he was intentionally trying to get under your skin. But there was also a strange, unspoken understanding.

You’d never call yourselves close. You’d never confide in each other or share heartfelt moments. But there was a bond, however tenuous, forged by shared experiences and blood. There was a mutual, begrudging respect that neither of you would admit out loud.

At the end of the day, Damian was still Damian. He still had his sharp tongue and holier-than-thou attitude, and you still had your resentment. But underneath it all, there was a flicker of something—rivalry mixed with loyalty, disdain mixed with a reluctant sense of family. It wasn’t perfect, and it probably never would be. But it was enough.

For Duke, it’s a bit different. He joined the family relatively later than the others, and Bruce didn’t officially adopt him into the family—he only fostered him. That distinction didn’t seem to matter to anyone else, though. From the moment Duke stepped into the manor, he fit right in.

Whenever you and Duke crossed paths, he was always nice. Friendly, even. But just like with the others, there was this invisible wall between you and him. Why? You weren’t entirely sure. Maybe it was because you noticed how easily he got along with the rest of your siblings, how seamlessly they accepted him. They included him in more things, leaned on him more during missions, and spent more time with him than they did with you.

It wasn’t like you hated him for that. No, never. Duke wasn’t the problem—it was the growing realization that once again, you were on the outside looking in. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being edged out of your own family. And that hurt, both your pride and your heart.

There were moments when you tried to connect with him, telling him about a lead you’d found or an idea you had for a case. Duke always listened, but his responses left a sting. Comments like, “Are you sure you can handle this stuff by yourself?” or, “You don’t want any help?” or even, “Maybe you should get Dick or Cass to help you out with this.”

You knew he probably meant well, but those words dug deep. It felt like he didn’t think you were capable, that he saw you as someone who couldn’t hold their own. You never said anything about it, of course, but it only strengthened your resolve to prove yourself.

And maybe that was the problem. The more you tried to show him—and everyone else—that you were competent, the more strained things became. It wasn’t outright hostility, not by any means, but there was a tension that lingered between you. A mutual awkwardness neither of you ever addressed.

At the end of the day, though, Duke was Duke. You weren’t enemies, and you didn’t resent him. You were friends, at the very least. But there was always that wall, a quiet reminder that, even in your own family, you were never quite enough.

I hope this was able to effectively portrag the fact that the reader is far from a perfect person, because I don’t think I was able to show that in the first background info. I feel that growing up in such an emotionally stunted family would inevitably shape her into someone complex and flawed. She wouldn’t be endlessly hopeful or optimistic. How could she be? She’s not just some perpetually kind, selfless girl with no negative emotions. Instead, her experiences have made her someone who struggles with jealousy, insecurity, and a need to prove herself, even if it leads to toxic behavior… but i hope y’all enjoyed this part!! lmk what you think <3

Part 1 (Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Jason Centered)

m.list

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows | ask to be added <3

(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[kvthgok]

Pls tell me im not the only one who luvs a grumpy father Miguel w/ his kid that acts like a golden retriever all happy and hyper and shi 😭🙏. LIEK I HAVE SOOOO MANY IDEAS BUT IM SO BUSY W SCHOOL BRUH

(Nvm i totally didnt go on a little crazy writing spree 🌝)

[bluemargotrobbie]

#BARBIE & #ALEX

En un universo representa a unos hermanos y en otro a una pareja, puede ser Aemma y Cregan o Ivar y Seren

AEMMA

📚: 𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗠𝗔 (publicado)

🖋: LunaticaBlack (wattpad)

🌎: HOTD

💌: Aemond, Aegon T& Cregan Stark

👤: Aemma Velaryon

MÁS ALLÁ DEL DESTINO

📚: 𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙇𝘼 𝘿𝙀𝙇 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙊 (publicado)

🖋: Sol_Andersen93 (wattpad)

🌎: Vikings

💌: Ragnar Lothbrock & Bjorn Ironside

👤: Elizabeth

[princessxt]

Hiya! Can we please get a Dean Winchester and Daughter Reader fic? It can be as however long as you want.

Hiii, omg this is my fist imagine, I hope you like it🤍

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

You can see the list of who I write about here

like and follow to encourage me to keep posting<33

You look like Dean Winchester in this light

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Daugther!Reader

Gender: Fluffy?

Warning: None

——————♥︎♥︎——————

I turn from side to side in bed, trying to fall asleep again, after waking up scared from a nightmare.

It's been a week since my life changed completely. My mother had been murdered by a spirit, my father, who my mother told me was dead, appeared saying that he hunts demons and other supernatural things with his brother. And now I'm here, in a any roadside motel with them, who are my last living relatives.

Knowing that sleep wouldn't come again, I get out of bed, feeling the cold breeze hitting my body. I put my feet in slippers and go to the dresser, grabbing a soft, warm coat. Before opening the bedroom door I see that they are 2:53 am. I leave the room and huddle inside my coat in the cold air. I close the door and go to the soda machine, taking 2 cans of Coca-Cola. I sit on the stairs and open the can of soda. I watch the cars passing by. down the dark road and I see one of them entering the motel parking lot. A couple gets out and goes to the reception, leaving a few minutes later. They go up the stairs and look at me sideways, but soon enter a room. I drink the cold liquid from the can and I think about everything that happened in the last few days, still trying to understand everything. I was so focused on my thoughts that I didn't notice that Dean had left his room, which was next to mine.

"Did you lose sleep too?" He sits next to me, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"I woke up from a nightmare and couldn't sleep again." I pick up the can of soda that was still unopened and hand it to him.

"Want to tell me how it was?" He opens the can and takes a sip. I take a deep breath and start to remember the dream.

"It was with my mother. I was in a house. It was dark and I heard her screaming, calling my name and asking for help. I tried to scream back while I opened the doors of the house looking for her. My voice wouldn't come out, and when the doors opened, the room was empty. When I finally find her, she stops screaming. I arrive too late to save her." I look at the road, avoiding eye contact with Dean. Our relationship was strange, we didn't know how to behave around each other. We could even be father and daughter, but we'd only known each other for a week, and under troubled circumstances.

"I'm sorry" He says after a few minutes, breaking the awkward silence. I just shrug.

"I know we don't know each other very well. But I want to try to do this right. I want to try to be a father. The father that I wasn't to you when you were growing up. I want to be, from now on, the father figure that I I never have. It's going to be difficult, I'm sure of that, but I'm willing to face a lot of things to have a good relationship." He speaks and I feel his gaze on me.

"My mother always said that I am a very difficult person to deal with." I finally look at him. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I looked like him. His dark blonde hair, his green eyes reminded me of mine. Sam had noticed earlier, while we were on the road in Dean's '67 Impala, that our tastes were similar. He liked classic rock. and he loved crude jokes, just like me.

"I can handle this. You'll also have to work hard to like me." He gives me a little push with his shoulder, making me laugh.

"I saw a 24-hour snack bar near here. Want to have a late-night snack?" He gets up and looks at me from above. I agree and get up too.

"I hope there's pie and cheeseburgers there" We headed towards the Impala, and got in, heading to the snack bar, which wasn't far away.

I may not have noticed, but Dean smiled the entire way, realizing that in addition to gaining a new reason to fight evil, just to ensure I have a better future, he would have the chance to do better than his father did with him and his brother, giving his all to make me happy, and putting me as a priority in his life.

[muiitoloko]

Hi! I just saw your Eli fics and it was pretty awesome! Can I ask for a fic about Eli having a daughter that he is really close with? She's Eli's favorite child cuz she likes science as much as him. Bcoz of this, her brother kinda hates her and treats her like shit. Like angsty fluffy goodness, please and thanks you

Title: The villain

Summary: The villain has been eliminated.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson & Daughter! Reader & Barkley

Warnings: Angst, Envy, jealousy, injury, blood, and implied death.

Author's Notes: Well, well, well, thanks for throwing this one my way! But here's the kicker: Turns out, when angst crashes the party, my cute-writing skills take a nosedive straight into the abyss. Who knew, right? 🙈 So, apologies in advance if this isn't the sugar-coated fluff you were expecting!

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

As Eli's favorite daughter, the bond you shared with him was something you cherished deeply. You had always admired your father's brilliance and had eagerly soaked up every bit of knowledge he imparted in his chemistry lab. Together, you delved into the mysteries of science, exploring the wonders of the world with wide-eyed curiosity.

But alongside the joy of your shared interests with Eli, there lingered a shadow of sadness caused by Barkley's resentment. As his twin sister, you had always hoped for a close relationship with him, but Barkley's jealousy seemed to drive a wedge between you, creating a barrier that felt impossible to breach.

Despite your best efforts to include Barkley in your scientific pursuits, he remained distant and aloof, his envy poisoning the once-close bond you shared as siblings. It hurt you deeply, knowing that your twin brother harbored such negative feelings towards you, especially when all you wanted was to share your love for science and learning with him.

That day, as Eli sat at the table, correcting exams with you nestled in his lap, Barkley watched from a distance, feeling a pang of jealousy gnawing at him. While he flipped through his Superman comic alone, you and your father shared a moment of laughter, reveling in the humorous mistakes made by his students.

"Dad, did you see this one?" you chuckled, pointing to a particularly amusing answer on one of the exams.

Eli's deep voice resonated with amusement as he leaned in closer to examine the paper. "Ah, yes, that's a classic," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of longing as he watched the two of you share this intimate moment. He wished he could be a part of it, to bask in his father's attention like you did. But no matter how hard he tried, it seemed like he was always on the outside looking in.

In a desperate attempt to gain his father's attention, Barkley approached the table, his Superman comic in hand. "Hey, Dad, check this out," he said eagerly, pointing to a dramatic fight scene where the hero was defeating the villains.

But Eli merely nodded absently, his attention already drifting back to the exams. He absentmindedly ruffled Barkley's hair before returning his focus to the papers spread out before him.

Disheartened, Barkley realized that once again, he had failed to capture his father's interest. As he watched you and Eli share another moment of camaraderie, a seed of resentment began to take root in his heart.

"Why do you always get to sit with Dad?" Barkley blurted out, unable to contain his frustration any longer.

You glanced over at Barkley, your brow furrowing in concern. "Barkley, do you want to come join us? We can correct exams together," you offered, extending an olive branch in the hopes of bridging the growing divide between you.

But Barkley merely shook his head, his gaze fixed on the floor as he retreated back to his corner with his comic in hand. "No, thanks," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I'm fine here."

Feeling a pang of guilt, you couldn't help but wonder if you were the villain in Barkley's eyes, always stealing the spotlight and attention for yourself. But deep down, you knew that all you wanted was to share your love for science and learning with your brother, to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing day.

As Eli praised you for your sharp understanding of chemistry problems, Barkley's jealousy only grew, his resentment simmering beneath the surface. Despite your attempts to include him, he remained distant, his twin bond with you fractured by his envy and insecurity.

And as the evening wore on, you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness wash over you, knowing that despite your best efforts, Barkley seemed determined to keep his distance. But deep down, you held onto hope that one day, you would be able to break through the barriers that separated you and rebuild the bond that had once been so strong.

Days later, your eighth birthday had finally arrived—a day that held special significance for both of you, and you had hoped to make it memorable in a positive way. When your parents, Eli and Sarah, suggested going to a comic convention instead of having a birthday party, you felt a pang of disappointment. It wasn't what you wanted, but Barkley's eyes had lit up with excitement at the prospect, and you couldn't bear to disappoint him.

So, you put on a brave face and smiled, telling your parents that you wanted to go to the comic convention too. Inside, your heart ached at the thought of spending the day surrounded by comic book characters and cosplayers, but for Barkley's sake, you were willing to endure it.

As you walked through the convention center, you watched as Barkley eagerly led your father towards one of the attractions, his excitement palpable. You held onto your mother's hand, Sarah, who had encouraged you to go with Eli and Barkley, knowing how much it meant to them.

You picked up your pace, running towards them, eager to join in on the fun. Barkley was animatedly talking about his favorite superhero, his words filled with enthusiasm as he painted a vivid picture of the character's adventures.

But as you approached, Barkley's expression changed, his scowl directed at you as he pushed you away. Your heart sank at his rejection, the familiar sting of hurt washing over you once again.

"This is our moment, Dad," Barkley protested, his tone defensive as he turned to face Eli. "Just you and me."

Eli's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze shifting between you and Barkley. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, you intervened.

"It's okay," you said with a forced smile, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. "I prefer to spend time with Mom anyway. Dad's always boring."

Eli's indignant look didn't escape your notice, but you simply shrugged it off, flashing him a mischievous grin before turning on your heel and running towards where your mother was manning a comic booth.

"Hey there, sweetie," Sarah greeted you with a warm smile, pulling you into a tight hug. "Having fun?"

You nodded, burying your face in her shoulder to hide the tears threatening to spill. Sarah sensed your distress and pulled back, concern etched on her face.

"What's wrong, darling?" she asked, her voice soft and comforting.

You hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "Barkley doesn't want me around. It's like he hates me."

Sarah's expression softened, her heart breaking at the pain in your voice. She knelt down to your level, taking your hands in hers.

"Sweetheart, Barkley doesn't hate you," she reassured you, her voice gentle yet firm. "He's just going through a rough patch right now. But deep down, he loves you, I'm sure of it."

You sniffled, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. Sarah pulled you into another hug, holding you close as you let out a shaky breath.

"I know it's hard, darling," she whispered, her voice filled with empathy. "But we'll get through this together, okay? You, me, and Barkley."

Feeling a sense of comfort wash over you, you nodded against Sarah's shoulder, grateful for her unwavering support. As you stood there in her embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always have your mother by your side, guiding you through the ups and downs of life.

Sarah then stood up, holding your hand, and suggested that you and she have some girls-only fun and explore the comic book convention together. You nodded eagerly, grateful for the opportunity to spend some quality time with your mother. As you walked hand-in-hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that Sarah was there to support you.

Along the way, you looked over your shoulder to see Eli and Barkley going the opposite way, but you ignored their departure, choosing instead to focus on the adventure ahead with your mother. The convention center was bustling with activity, the air filled with excitement and anticipation as fans of all ages indulged in their love for comics and pop culture.

Eventually, the two of you stumbled upon a Spider-Man station, where fans could pose for photos with their favorite web-slinging hero. You couldn't contain your excitement as you gazed at the larger-than-life Spider-Man statue, marveling at the intricate details of his costume.

But it was the display of Spider-Man's adversaries that caught your eye, particularly the figure of Doctor Octavius. You had always been fascinated by science, and the idea of a brilliant scientist-turned-supervillain intrigued you.

"Mom, look!" you exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the Doctor Octavius display. "It's Doctor Octopus! Did you know there are scientists in the world of comics?"

Sarah chuckled at your enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I did, sweetheart," she replied, her voice filled with affection. "And it looks like you've found your new favorite character."

You nodded and stood in front of the Doctor Octopus display, your eyes sparkling with excitement at the sight of the action figures lined up neatly on the shelf. You reached out to grab one of the Doctor Octavius dolls, its tentacles and menacing expression captivating your imagination.

"Mom, can we get this one?" you pleaded, holding up the action figure for Sarah to see.

Sarah's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your sudden request, but she smiled indulgently at your enthusiasm. "Sweetheart, are you sure you want that one?" she asked gently, her voice filled with curiosity. "Don't you want to look at some of the other toys first?"

But you shook your head adamantly, your heart set on the Doctor Octopus action figure. "No, Mom, I want this one," you insisted, clutching the doll to your chest as if your life depended on it.

Sarah sighed softly, knowing that arguing with you would be futile once you had made up your mind. With a resigned smile, she reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet, handing over the money for the toy.

"Alright, sweetheart, if that's what you want," she conceded, her voice tinged with amusement. "But promise me you'll take good care of him, okay?"

You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining with excitement as you hugged the Doctor Octavius action figure close to your chest. "I promise, Mom," you replied, a wide grin spreading across your face. "Thank you!"

With your newfound treasure in hand, you eagerly followed Sarah as she led you through the convention center, your mind buzzing with excitement at the prospect of playing with your new toy. As you walked, you couldn't help but steal glances at the Doctor Octopus action figure, marveling at its intricate details and lifelike features.

You looked at your mother, wondering if she could take the doll out of the box now. Sarah nodded, understanding the excitement bubbling within you. With a swift motion, you practically ripped the packaging open, eager to hold your new treasure in your hands.

Just as you freed Doctor Octopus from his plastic prison, Eli and Barkley came up to the two of you, their presence momentarily dampening your excitement. But you quickly brushed aside any lingering discomfort, eager to show off your new toy to your family.

You waved your hand, beckoning Barkley closer as you proudly displayed the Doctor Octavius action figure. "Look, Barkley, Mommy bought me this!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with excitement.

But Barkley's reaction wasn't what you had expected. Instead of sharing in your enthusiasm, he looked at Doctor Octopus in your hand with disdain, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Doctor Octavius? Seriously?" Barkley taunted, his tone dripping with mockery. "Why would you choose a villain? You should've picked a hero instead."

You felt a pang of disappointment at Barkley's words, his rejection stinging more than you cared to admit. But you refused to let his negativity dampen your spirits, determined to stand up for yourself and your newfound favorite character.

"Doctor Octavius isn't just a villain," you protested, your voice defiant. "He's a scientist! And now he's my favorite scientist."

Eli, hearing this, turned to you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I thought I was your favorite scientist," he complained, his tone playful yet slightly wounded.

You couldn't help but giggle at your father's reaction, finding his jealousy both amusing and endearing. "Sorry, Dad," you replied with a mischievous grin. "But Doctor Octavius is cooler."

Eli raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Cooler than me?" he echoed, his voice filled with mock indignation.

You nodded enthusiastically, your determination unwavering. "Yup! He has metal arms and everything," you declared proudly.

Eli shook his head in mock disapproval, but a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "I can't compete with that," he admitted with a chuckle.

As you laughed with your father, reveling in the playful banter between you, Barkley's jealousy became apparent once again. Seeing the bond between you and Eli only served to fuel Barkley's resentment, and he clung to his father's leg, his expression pleading.

"Dad, can I have an action figure too?" Barkley begged, his voice tinged with desperation as he looked up at Eli with hopeful eyes.

Eli's brow furrowed in annoyance at Barkley's interruption, but before he could respond, Barkley continued to plead, his voice growing louder with each word.

"Please, Dad, I want one too!" Barkley insisted, his grip on Eli's leg tightening as he begged for his father's attention.

Eli sighed in exasperation at Barkley's persistent pleas, his patience wearing thin as he looked towards Sarah for assistance. "How much was the doll of her?" he asked, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at Eli's question, her expression one of disbelief. "Thirty dollars," she replied matter-of-factly, knowing full well that Eli would balk at the price.

Eli almost choked at Sarah's response, his eyes widening in shock at the exorbitant price. Thirty dollars was far too expensive by his standards, and he wasted no time in taking action.

Grabbing the doll from your hands, Eli turned to Sarah with a determined expression. "Go return it and get the money back," he instructed firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

But you weren't about to let your newfound treasure slip through your fingers so easily. Jumping up and down, you reached out to grab the doll back, your protests growing louder with each passing moment.

"No, Daddy, I want to keep it!" you insisted, your voice filled with determination as you clung to the doll with all your might.

Sarah rolled her eyes at Eli's stubbornness, shaking her head in disbelief at his unwillingness to indulge his children. Taking the doll from her husband's hands, she gave it back to you with a gentle smile.

You hugged the Doctor Octopus doll tightly to your chest, feeling a sense of victory as Sarah stood by your side, a defiant expression on her face. She turned to Eli, her voice laced with frustration as she scolded him for his dismissive attitude towards your happiness.

"Eli, it's the children's birthday," Sarah argued, her tone firm yet tinged with exasperation. "They deserve a toy, especially one that brings them joy."

Eli sighed in annoyance at Sarah's insistence, his brows furrowing in frustration. "I just didn't think it was that expensive," he replied dismissively, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.

But before Sarah could respond, Barkley interrupted them, his face red with frustration as he begged and threw a tantrum to get a toy of his own. "I want Spider-Man!" he demanded, his voice reaching a crescendo as he stomped his feet in frustration.

Eli's patience wore thin at Barkley's outburst, and he shook his head in disbelief at his son's behavior. "No, Barkley, we're not buying any more toys," he declared firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Barkley's face fell at his father's denial, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he crossed his arms irritably. He watched with envy as you walked away, playing with your Doctor Octopus doll, oblivious to everything around you.

Seeing Barkley's disappointment, Sarah couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her son. Turning to Eli, she began to argue with him, her voice growing louder with each passing moment.

"Eli, this isn't fair," Sarah protested, her tone tinged with frustration. "Barkley deserves a toy too, especially on his birthday."

But Eli remained unmoved, his stubbornness unwavering as he refused to budge on his decision. "We can buy him a McDonald's Happy Meal instead," he suggested, his tone dismissive as he waved off Sarah's concerns. "That way, they can both have fun."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief at her husband's suggestion, unable to comprehend his lack of empathy towards Barkley's feelings. "You can't be serious," she replied incredulously, her voice tinged with frustration. "This isn't about food, Eli. It's about making our children happy."

But Eli was already turning away, his attention focused on something else as he walked towards the food court.

Meanwhile, Sarah stood by, torn between her frustration with Eli and her desire to comfort Barkley. With a heavy heart, she knelt down beside her son, wrapping him in a tight hug as she tried to soothe his wounded pride.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice filled with sympathy. "We'll find a way to make it up to you, I promise."

Barkley's tears continued to fall, his disappointment palpable as he watched you play with your new toy. Sarah felt a pang of sympathy for her son's disappointment. She knew how much he had been looking forward to receiving a toy of his own, and seeing him so dejected broke her heart. With a heavy sigh, she decided to make things right, at least for Barkley.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to go buy you that Spider-Man doll, okay?" Sarah said gently, her voice filled with determination. "But I need you to wait here and stay close to your sister. Can you do that for me?"

Barkley nodded silently, his eyes still clouded with sadness as he watched you play with your Doctor Octopus doll. Sarah gave him one last reassuring squeeze before getting up and heading towards the toy booth, determined to find the perfect toy for her son.

As Sarah navigated through the crowded convention center, her heart weighed heavy with guilt. She knew she couldn't undo the hurt Barkley was feeling, but she hoped that getting him the Spider-Man doll would at least bring a smile to his face.

Finally reaching the toy booth, Sarah scanned the shelves for the Spider-Man action figure, her eyes darting from one end to the other in search of the perfect toy. When she finally spotted it, her heart skipped a beat with relief, and she quickly made her way over to the display.

Meanwhile, Barkley clenched his fists angrily as he watched you, sitting on the floor and playing with your new toy. His resentment towards you simmered beneath the surface, fueled by the jealousy that had poisoned his relationship with you for so long. As Barkley's gaze shifted to the huge Spider-Man statue behind where you were sitting, a wicked idea began to form in his mind.

"You're the problem," Barkley thought bitterly, his anger boiling over as he glared at you. "The family would be perfect if you didn't exist. Dad would like me more if you weren't there to get in the way."

With a determined expression, Barkley stood up, his footsteps silent as he crept behind the Spider-Man statue. You were completely oblivious to his actions, lost in the world of your imagination as you played with your Doctor Octopus doll.

As Barkley reached the statue, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. With all his strength, he pushed against the statue, his muscles straining as he exerted every ounce of his pent-up frustration.

The Spider-Man statue wobbled precariously, its massive frame swaying dangerously as people nearby screamed and scrambled to move out of the way. You looked up, confusion etched on your face as you tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding around you.

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of movement behind you, and before you could react, the statue came crashing down with a deafening roar. The last thing you felt was a searing pain, a sharp cry of your name echoing through the air as Eli rushed out of the food court, his heart stopping at the sight of the fallen statue and his injured daughter.

People screamed in panic as Eli ran, dropping the snack in your hand and rushing towards you. His heart pounded with fear as he saw the fallen Spider-Man statue pinning you down, a pool of blood forming beneath you.

Frantically, Eli tried to lift the heavy statue off of you, but it was too heavy for him to move alone. Desperately, he looked around for help, his hands shaking as he pleaded with bystanders to lend a hand.

Luckily, some other people rushed over to assist, and together, they managed to lift the statue just enough for Eli to pull you out from underneath. With tears streaming down his face, he cradled you in his arms, his heart breaking at the sight of your injuries.

"Someone call an ambulance!" Eli cried out, his voice hoarse with panic. "Please, we need help!"

As Eli held you close, he scanned the crowd frantically, searching for Sarah and Barkley. His heart sank when he saw Sarah's tear-streaked face among the onlookers, her hands covering her mouth in shock.

"Sarah!" Eli called out, his voice trembling with fear. "Where's Barkley? Is he okay?"

Sarah's eyes widened in horror as she realized that Barkley was missing. Panic surged through her veins as she looked around frantically, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I don't know, Eli," she replied, her voice trembling with fear. "I can't find him anywhere!"

As Sarah desperately searched for Barkley, Eli clung to you, his body shaking with sobs as he begged for help. He felt numb with shock, his mind reeling at the sight of his injured daughter lying in his arms.

Barkley, meanwhile, had picked up the Doctor Octopus doll from the floor, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the chaos unfold. In his mind, the villain had been defeated, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought.

He wiped the blood off the doll, pleased with himself. As his mother caught up with him, she hugged him and cried worriedly, but Barkley paid her no mind. He looked at the doll in his hand, and Sarah didn't notice it, thinking her son was in shock.

As Sarah enveloped Barkley in a tight hug, tears streaming down her face, she whispered words of comfort, her voice trembling with fear and relief. "Oh, Barkley, thank goodness you're okay," she murmured, her heart breaking at the thought of what could have happened. "Your sister will be fine, okay? She will be fine."

But Barkley remained distant, his mind consumed by his newfound victory. Ignoring his mother's attempts to comfort him, he stared down at the Doctor Octopus doll in his hand, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he watched the chaos unfold around him.

Meanwhile, Eli's cries echoed through the convention center as he cradled you close to his chest, his heart breaking at the sight of his injured daughter. Tears streamed down his face as he begged you to come back to him, his voice trembling with fear and desperation.

"Please, sweetheart, wake up," Eli pleaded, his hands shaking as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Daddy needs you. Please, come back to me."

But there was no response, only the sound of sirens wailing in the distance as the ambulance approached. Eli clung to you, his body racked with sobs as he prayed for a miracle, his mind consumed by thoughts of what could have been.

As the paramedics rushed over to attend to you, Eli reluctantly released his grip, allowing them to take you away on a stretcher. His heart felt heavy with dread as he watched them disappear into the ambulance, his mind reeling at the thought of his precious daughter lying injured and alone.

But even in the midst of his grief, Eli couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him from within. He knew that he had failed you as a father, his selfishness and arrogance blinding him to the dangers that surrounded you.

As the ambulance drove away, Eli sank to his knees, his body wracked with sobs as he prayed for your safety. "I'm so sorry, my baby girl," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I should have protected you. Please, forgive me."

But forgiveness felt like a distant dream, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume him. With tears streaming down his face, Eli buried his head in his hands, his heart heavy with regret as he awaited news of your fate.

[hoe4hotchner]

Can you write a story where the reader, a BAU member, is on maternity leave after she and Aaron just had a baby? One day, she goes to the office to bring their daughter to visit Aaron, only to find him in the bullpen with the agent who replaced her while she’s been on leave. The replacement has a crush on Aaron and doesn’t know that he’s married to the reader. The replacement becomes jealous when she sees how much attention Aaron is giving their daughter and confronts the reader, but Aaron gets angry and ends up firing her."

Family first | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: Fluff, mom!reader, they have a daugther, bitch of a replacement coworker who doesn't know her place.

As you stepped into the all too familiar bullpen you were met with the usual sound of phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and the occasional laughter bubbling up from conversations between team members. You hadn’t stepped foot in the office in months — your maternity leave had been an endless storm of sleepless nights, diaper changes, and indescribable moments of joy. Now, cradling your six-month-old daughter in your arms, you stood at the threshold of the office, taking it all in — realizing how little you'd missed working, as long as you got to spend your time with your daughter.

“Ready to surprise Daddy?” you cooed to your baby, brushing a soft kiss against her fluffy head. She giggled in response, her little hand grasping at your necklace — the one Aaron had gotten you with a charm of your daughter's initial. Her chubby fingers wrapped around the charm, and you couldn’t help but smile at her curiosity.

Heads turned as you had entered, and a wave of warmth spread through you as familiar voices from your friends greeted you.

“Y/N!” Garcia’s exclamation came first as she flew across the bullpen, pulling away from her conversation with Morgan, her colorful dress trailing behind her. “Oh my gosh, let me see that precious little angel!”

You laughed, carefully handing over your daughter as Garcia immediately began cooing at her. Emily, Morgan, and JJ soon gathered around, their faces lighting up at the sight of the baby.

“Look at those cheeks,” Morgan said, his voice soft as he tickled her tiny hand. “Hotch better have her signed up for karate classes already. Gotta keep the boys away.”

“Or girls,” Emily added. “She’s going to be a heartbreaker either way.”

You beamed at their affection, the team’s love for your little family filling your heart. “Where is Aaron?” you asked, glancing toward his office. The blinds were drawn, but you knew he wasn’t inside.

JJ nodded toward the conference room. “He’s in there, showing something to Agent Morrison.”

Your smile faltered slightly at the mention of Morrison, the agent who had been brought in temporarily to cover your leave. You hadn’t met her yet, but you’d heard through the grapevine that she was ambitious, skilled, and confident — maybe a little too confident.

You spotted Aaron through the windows, his back turned as he reviewed what you assumed were some case files with Morrison. He looked relaxed yet tired, his tie slightly loosened, though his usual air of authority remained in place. Morrison stood close to him — a little too close — her laughter ringing out at something he said.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but you pushed the feeling aside. Aaron was your husband, your partner, and the father of the baby currently making grabby hands at Morgan’s face. You had no reason to feel insecure.

Morgan handed your daughter back to you as you went to greet your husband.

And still, as you approached, you couldn’t help but notice the way Morrison’s body language leaned toward him, her hand brushing his forearm as she laughed again. Aaron didn’t seem to notice — or if he did, he wasn’t encouraging it.

When you reached the conference room, Aaron glanced up, and the moment his eyes met yours, his entire demeanor softened.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and surprise. His gaze immediately dropped to the baby in your arms, and he stood quickly, coming around the desk to envelop you both in a hug.

“You should’ve told me you were coming,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before gently brushing a finger across your daughter’s cheek. She squealed in delight, reaching out for him, and he took her into his arms with ease.

“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I told you,” you replied, grinning as you watched him cradle her. “I figured you could use a break.”

Aaron’s smile widened, and he kissed the baby’s forehead before turning back to you. “I always have time for my girls.”

Morrison’s voice cut into the moment, a hint of confusion lacing her words. “Wait, your girls?”

You turned to her, offering a polite smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Aaron’s wife.”

Her eyes widened, darting between you, Aaron, and the baby. “Wife?” she repeated, her tone almost incredulous.

Aaron’s arm settled protectively around your waist as he nodded. “Yes, my wife. Y/N used to work here before going on maternity leave.”

Morrison’s expression shifted, her initial surprise giving way to something more guarded. “Oh. I… I didn’t realize.”

“Well, now you do,” Aaron said firmly, his tone polite but edged with finality, hoping that your visit would make Morrison drop her antics.

The tension in Morrison’s posture was clear as day, but she pasted on a smile. “She’s adorable,” she said, nodding toward the baby. “You’re very lucky.”

Aaron’s grip on you tightened slightly. “I know I am.”

The interaction seemed to conclude there, and Morrison excused herself, claiming she had paperwork to finish. But as the day went on, it became clear that the encounter had unsettled her. You noticed her watching you from across the room, her eyes narrowing whenever Aaron’s attention lingered on you or the baby.

Finally, as you were gathering your things to leave, Morrison approached you near the elevator. Her smile was tight, her tone clipped.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked, glancing around to ensure no one else was within earshot.

You raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Her polite facade dropped almost instantly. “You don’t have to flaunt your relationship in front of everyone,” she said sharply. “It’s unprofessional.”

Your jaw tightened, but you kept your voice calm. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

She scoffed. “You know exactly what I mean. Walking in here with your baby like you own the place, acting like Hotch is your personal property… It’s distracting and completely inappropriate.”

You blinked, stunned by the audacity. Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Agent Morrison.”

Aaron’s tone was ice-cold, and you turned to see him standing a few feet away, his expression thunderous. “A word, please. Now.”

Morrison’s face paled as she stammered, “I… I didn’t mean…”

“My office. Now.”

You watched as Aaron led her away, his posture stiff with fury. The bullpen had fallen silent, and you could feel the eyes of your colleagues on you, but you held your head high, refusing to let Morrison’s pettiness rattle you.

Minutes later, Aaron returned, his expression softer but still serious. He placed a hand on your arm, guiding you toward the elevator. “Let’s go home,” he said quietly.

As the elevator doors closed, you glanced up at him. “What happened?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Morrison won’t be returning. Her behavior was unacceptable, and I made it clear that we won’t tolerate that kind of attitude here.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude and love for the man beside you. “Thank you.”

Aaron’s eyes softened as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “No one disrespects my family,” he said firmly. “No one.”