#he's adopting the girl with him

[dazzle02]

TW: Self Harm and Suicide

Imagine the 118 getting a call to a house for a suicide attempt. It's a teenager, maybe 13. She's hurt herself badly, maybe she hadn't meant for it to be as bad as it was. But her parents are not happy. And not in the sense that they're worried because their daughter just potentially tried to kill herself, but they're actually upset with her.

And they start saying about how she's been hurting herself lately, but it's just for attention. (You know, that horrible thing some people say about SH...) That she's not actually got any problems, she just wants attention.

And they're all pretty pissed at the parents, but they're trying to be professional, because they have to be.

But Buck just snaps. He was a kid who was hurting himself to get his parents attention. And it was awful for him. It severely damaged his psyche. To this day he still struggles to deal with people not giving him the right attention. So he knows how this kid must feel.

And so maybe he snaps at the parents, or maybe he just totally shuts down.

Either way, the rest of the 118 pick up on it. And it suddenly hits them what he was telling them all those years ago when he was telling them about his parents. It really hits them all that he was purposely hurting himself as a kid.

[cidnangarlond]

[ditzybat]

any teenage female hero: oh no, i think i'm starting my period :(

bruce, proud girl dad, procuring a basket of menstrual products and comfort items: i've got this guys.

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.

[poeticsapphicism]

i love this pic sm bc they literally look like a cunty team of detectives…. they’re like the mystery inc. if they slayed

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

No time to play. You are being sent away.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[mikakuna]

imagine being so insensitive that you would blame a child for their death and openly talk about how badly behaved they were right in front of their grave. oh and on said child's birthday-- the day he would've turned 18 years old. you spend your first official late child's 18th birthday calling him brash and impulsive, implying he got himself murdered, instead of mourning the fact that today is the day your dead son would've reached a major milestone in his life.

[emacrow]

When Diana and her twin Jason was born after her, Jason was left to be disposed off in Amazon, only for him to disappear a second later.

Clockwork saw the possibility and took the freshly wet newborn swapping him with The Fenton's stillborn.

For what he saw in the possibility of the future was nearly endless as he did what he had to do.. for the best outcome to come forth..

A pebble here, a rocket ship toy there, an inch of furniture moved then so that incident doesn't happen, a poster paper on that tree. Minor tiny changes to help bring the visual to the present.

All leading to clockwork giving 19 year old sleep deprived danny an small yet important task to deliver a scroll in another dimension leading up to his body regressed in that dimension timeline the moment he slipped in and out the portal.

Diana knew she had a twin brother out there.. and she was going to find him.

What she didn't know that he was literally falling into her arms, when she and Superman went to check on the Glowing lararus pit portal made near metropolis.

Tiny little boy who look completely tired as he went unconscious holding a purple and green scroll in his hands, wearing clothes 3 times his size.

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

[yayll]

omg PLSPLSPLS GIVE US GIRLDAD!DAZAI!!! Im literally so obsessed w ur work and luv luv luv reading it <3

just wanna say thank u so much anon for sending in the CUTEST request ever i have never thought abt it this way and when i finally did it was over for me. it wrote itself. THANK U FOR LIKING MY WORK THATS SO SWEET AHHH :') i keep getting ill so srry it's a lil late but i am so thankful for you trusting me w ur concept. mwahhhh.

~ a little something about girldad!Dazai simply trying his best, and loving it ~

Dazai never thought the day would come when his life finally felt complete. First, you happened to him and that was something he couldn't even fathom in a million lifetimes. It wasn't meant for him, and letting love into his heart felt like going against the nature of things. He struggled with it for a long time, pushing you away and making sure you realized this wasn't something worth pursuing... but you never relented, and he stopped fighting the longing for something more. You made him feel it was okay to want, to yearn, to need. And so came along every single repressed desire he had ever had. The love between you bloomed, and he thought this was the height of it all; The bandages he wore over his body were no longer grim reminders of his lack of humanity and the masks he wore on the daily. Those frayed wraps of fabric were symbols of love returning, of patience, of a lived in soul, and he no longer had to maintain them alone. He had you.

And then one day, he suddenly had a little girl in his life.

Another life to nurture and to start anew with, and his fear was that he yet again could not redeem himself from his past, but he was determined for her, for you and for himself to not let that be the case. When you gave him the most precious thing he didn't think he ever wanted nor could ever have, that was the day he vowed to be the epitome of a true figure worth looking up to. Osamu Dazai, the family man! Dad of the year!

... Except today, when he woke up late to take the apple of his eye to preschool. You were out of town, and though you eventually claimed to have faith in his solo parenting skills, it was a complete leap of faith. He comforted you for hours, how hard could it be? He can be both parents at once! How cruel of you to even doubt him. He remembers the look on your face when he slammed the door on you while holding your precious angel in his arms, both of them giggling while they waved you off as if they rehearsed it.

Aaaand now he realized why you were so worried. He looks at the time and he springs out of bed, running off to her bedroom. She even sleeps like a little lamb, he thinks to himself. He rushes at her side and softly turns her over.

"Little love, wake uuupppp..."

She pouts, shaking her head as she shifts in her sleep. He sighs and tries again a little more desperately.

"If you wake up, that will be really good for daddy, otherwise mommy will kill me! Up we go!"

He picks her up, and she rubs her eyes as Dazai does the most rushed morning routine ever.

He gets her dressed, though the socks don't match, and when he does her pigtails, they're lopsided. How do you do it?! And now he has to FEED her?! He stuffs a few handfuls of cereal into his mouth while giving her a proper bowl, but they're so late he thinks they should just start walking now.

"Take the bowl with you, we can do this thing called eat and walk! Yes?"

"'Kay, daddy!"

She simply giggles, not understanding how dire it is for her to make it today. She holds onto her cereal bowl as he grabs her backpack, both of them walking out into the street. Dazai's fast walking and her bowl sloshes a bit as she tries to match his pace and eat at the same time.

She's waddling adorably, and he gets lost in watching her carefully while also literally getting lost finding the school. He stops at the crosswalk, and thinks to himself. She looks up at him with a milk mustache, and her soft melodic voice rings once more like a voice of reason. She points to the right.

"That way! hehe."

Dazai has no time to fact check this, and at this point she's parenting him. You'd pass out of laughter if you could see him right now. They rush towards the school, and when he drops her off at the gate, he gives her a big kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, okay? Now give daddy the cereal bowl. How yum was that?"

She cheers, smiling wide.

"Yum!!!!"

He smirks, and takes the bowl. At least he got that right, that smile alone is worth every late start to his mornings. He waves at her as she enters the school, and forgets he's holding the bowl still, her teacher looking at him like he's deranged. You were so proud to hear that his first time parenting alone went so smooth! What you didn't know was that your little girl did most of the work keeping him on track. Still counts, right?

Another time he was exemplary was when he had just given her a bath and you were supervising to make sure he got her routine down.

"Osamu, that's the conditioner. The shampoo is over there."

You laugh while pointing at the clearly marked bottle. He rolls his eyes, smirking as he continues to rub it in her little swirl of dark hair.

"Oh please, I knew that. This makes it soft! And all detangled... It's a better routine, trust me. This is so much better."

He was totally bullshitting, he had no idea there was more than one hair product ever. This is the same man who used to find showers foreign and eat canned crab for every meal. You simply nodded, seeing right through his facade. But it was all so endearing watching your daughter splash the water on his face and play with rubber duckies, it was a dream come true. It was a dream you knew was more precious to him than anything, so you let him have his fun.

Once bath time is over, he places her on the bed in her diaper and walks out to grab her a change of clothes. Uh oh, he forgot today was laundry day! He walks back into the room a few moments later, thinking of how to pivot without having to bother you when he sees his little angel wrapped head to toe in a full roll of his bandages. His eyes go wide at the sight of the wrapped up toddler, and he laughs nervously as he rushes over while she has the time of her life squealing and rolling around the bed. He pretends to be mad.

"Little love! That's not clothes, silly! That's for daddy only, you have your own."

She simply disregards this, her mind focusing on how hilarious it would be if she just started making bubbles with her saliva instead. Dazai chuckles again, and puts his hands on his hips.

"Oh, such attitude! You know, l'm gonna have to do it... Remember when I told you about daddy's old job? I'm gonna have to get mean againnn..~"

He immediately launches himself onto the bed, tickling her through the thick fabric, and when you rush over you find them both just collapsed on the bed, Dazai counting her fingers and toes in order to distract her enough to unwrap her. Luckily, you had a spare onesie for her to save the day... even if it took the both of you to get her out of her improvised outfit. What a strong willed little one! You hoped this wasn't a special abillity developing...

It's no surprise she's a daddy's girl either, a mini Dazai at her core with your balancing characteristics on the surface. She was a little menace, sticking her tongue out at dogs every time she saw them because Dazai would do the same. He would even go as far as to help her dress like her hero! Of course you both had a stroke when you saw how tightly she wore that bolo tie, but the laugh after was worth the worry... After you scolded both of them... but it proved useless against two of the most experienced charmers you've ever met. You just couldn't win.

You especially could never get used to the sight after a long day of existing in the real world, simply watching her climb up to the couch and playing with Dazai's hair as she nuzzles herself into his shoulder, right in the crook of his neck. It was just as intense for his poor little heart as well. The way she'd yank on a strand while he pretended to be asleep was priceless, or when she'd stick her finger in his nose, causing him to have a sneezing fit soon after. It was almost karmic the way she both adored him and put him in his place, just like you.

"Daddy has brown hair because he drinks chocolate milk."

"Daddy stinks today. Throw him away!"

"Daddy looks like a mummy. Do you like mummies?"

"Who's Kunikida? He yelled at daddy today, it was funny!"

She'd babble on about all kinds of curious nonsense. You'd simply nod and agree. She was never wrong!

But what really got to you was watching her pass out on his head after hours of playtime, and the way Dazai would finally open his eyes with that smug smile of his, scooping her up and carefully taking her to bed. He tucks her in, whispering about all the adventures they'll have tomorrow and the days after. About all the rules they'll break together, and mysteries they'll solve when he takes her to work with him. He doesn't tell bedtime stories per se, but he spends all his time having actual conversations with her until she dozes off because he cannot believe this is a little extension of him and he's just as fascinated with knowing her the way she is with him. With life.

She's full of it, something he wasn't for a long time, and it brings him to tears when he sometimes thinks about it too long in private.

You're both his life and he didn't realize he could still feel regret like he does when he thinks of all the times he spent trying to end his own existence. It's a whole different world, and sure, he also loves to use her as an excuse to continue to slack off at work, and maaaybe he likes to sometimes force Atsushi to turn so she can pet him like the giant cat he is out of both their own entertainment, but dying is no longer the priority. It hasn't been for a long time, and he thinks he's doing an okay job... At being a dad, at being a human, at belonging in this world.

When he finally gets in bed with you, he feels whole. He also feels impish when he turns over and whispers.

"Maybe it's time for another, hm?~"

Oops!

[laniidae-passerine]

Louis is such a Catholic good girl btw. Gets courted by a wealthy gentleman for months before they even kiss. Married in a church. Gets himself a precious baby daughter because he’s been dreaming of that perfect family since he was a little girl. Loyal to his man not even multiple deaths can separate them. Says Hail Mary like fifty billion times to cancel out the anal sex he keeps pretending he didn’t enjoy but also calls that dick his personal black tar heroin. Gonna lie to everybody he meets including himself. Feels guilt for a century about things that weren’t his fault but also kinda doesn’t give a shit about the things he did do. God’s gonna see him through <3

[hecksupremechips]

Mizuki and Date though like. Imagine being 8 and your parents are filthy rich and going through a bad divorce. Your mom treats you like shit, lashing out at you, hitting you, saying she wishes you were never born all because you were behaving like a child. Your dad is more comforting, but he doesn’t do anything to stop the abuse and he spends his time invested in a completely different family, a girl who you love and look up to but he loves her more than you and it fucking shows. Then your dads new friend, some fucking bachelor in his late 20s, is just like "wow you guys are the worst fucking parents ive ever seen" and next thing you know your dad is sending you off to live with him. And it’s just a massive kick in the head cuz you go from a rich lifestyle to living in some really shitty tiny ass apartment with this guy who’s clearly never been around a child in his entire life and he doesn’t know how to behave and does a really bad job of censoring himself like he has a bunch of dirty magazines that he can’t hide very well cuz it’s literally a studio apartment and also he talks to himself sometimes, it’s really weird. He doesn’t even have the slightest clue what he’s doing

And he’s the best parent you’ve ever had

Because fuck, it all really hurts. You have to cope with having never received any love from anyone, and with the fact that your parents clearly don’t want you and can’t even be bothered to send you with anyone even kinda responsible. And this guy has a scary job with crazy hours and you don’t know anything about him and neither does he. But still, he never once hits you or tells you you’re not allowed to cry. He just gives you space and doesn’t push you to feel any sort of way about him. And sometimes, he’s even kind. He makes you some stew, even though it’s a bit chunky. He lets you sleep in the bed and takes the couch for himself, even though he complains about the massive back pain he’d never trade his spot for a second. He pays attention to events at your school and gives you your favorite stuffed animal when you make good grades, even though you called it ugly. He gets worried sick when you come home with bruises and puts on a goofy voice and trains you to defend yourself and you develop some highly deadly skills and even though it’s really abnormal, he buys you a bench press so you can get stronger. There’s this distance there, and you feel really weird caring about someone who you aren’t related to, but you find yourself wishing it was meant to be like this all along, that maybe, he’s secretly your real dad and he loves you like his real daughter

And when you say "I’m back" he says "welcome home"

[dat1angel]

When Ra's needed an heir, Talia impregnated herself with The Detective's DNA to give him the perfect offspring. When she delived fraternal twins the boy was raised to one day take over the League and the girl was kept around so that she might one day provide the LoA with new recruits. When she came of age and learned that the only reason she was kept around was the idea of her future children, she fled. They never found her.

Years later, Duke Thomas introduces his family to his new boyfriend, Danny Fenton.

[kacievvbbbb]

Just one of the many great tragedies of Mishanks' relationship is that sometimes Shanks wants to feel wanted just as he is, that even beyond the strength he is worth the effort he is worth being loved and unfortunately that just isn't something Mihawk can over him it's just not something he can do, not as he is now at least. That's a level of emotional maturity that he just does not possess to be able to disentangle the strength from the man that makes no sense to him. Strength is all there is. Shanks is a person, has a life outside of his strength, his power is just another aspect of who he is but for Mihawk strength is his whole person, if he is not strong then he is nothing. If shanks is not strong well then....he's nothing to him.

And God that's a lonely way to live.

[brrdhouse]

currently obsessed with these two... i could be a good mother

doodles and notes under cut:

[blaiddraws]

today i bring you family sleepy cuddles. tomorrow? who knows....