You vaguely remember a time from when you were younger, full of lifeless bare walls and the choking smell of disinfectant. The incessant murmurs behind the glass, the dread of getting scruffed whenever you did something not up to standard.
The memories are fuzzy, where you're left grasping for the wisps of the crumbling recollections of your childhood; a gaping chasm in your existence so wide it feels like you've only existed for three years, not however many you truly are.
For three years, as far as you can recall, you've lived on the streets. Stuck in your feline form, not because you can't shift — though the process would probably kill you in your current state — but because maintaining your human form would demand more food than you have access to. Shifting takes precious calories you don't have the luxury to waste; it's already hard enough to sustain your kitten appearance.
You're exploring past your usual peripheries today, hoping to find some scraps or endear an ignorant human into giving you a meal to get you through the day. Most of them can't differentiate between hybrids and regular animals, so if you loiter close enough, they'll leave precious sustenance on the ground. It's not a foolproof method, however. Some humans aren't generous, especially when you have a penchant for biting and scratching anyone who gets within a foot of you. It's not as if you can help it either.
Every hand reaching could be your end. Every step too close is a threat.
What choice do you have? It's survival and you want to live.
By late afternoon, your stomach feels hollow enough to fold in on itself. You've only managed to get a bowl of milk and you don't want to scrounge through the dumpsters again. That's alley cat territory, and they aren't particularly fond of shifters, almost as if they can smell the wrongness on your fur, can tell you're not one of them.
So when you spot a cling-wrapped sandwich on the pavement, instincts take over and you're springing into action. Food food food is all you think: the soft dough of the bread, how it'll crumble in your mouth. The acidity of the tomatoes. You can't remember the last time you had fruit. And the thing you've been longing for most: chicken. Fatty, juicy chicken that might keep you going for another couple of days.
Everything else blurs. Your fangs sink down—
Salt. Sweat. Definitely not the sandwich you were eyeing.
You snap out of your daydream and jolt back, looking up to see an enormous, masked man crouched in front of you. His scarred hand hovers over the sandwich, two small indents marking his index finger.
Shit.
_________________________________________________
Simon wasn't expecting his day to go like this. After a grueling day at base clearing the paperwork he'd ignored for weeks — a part of his job worse than training rookies — he was starving, and the base cafeteria wasn't going to cut it.
So why is it that he's staring down at the little shit that bit him? He should ignore it, leave the sandwich for the feral beast, and go home to make dinner and crack open a bottle of bourbon. He has better things to do, but something about your behavior makes him stop.
You're frozen, pupils blown wide as you continue to stare at him, as if locked in a standstill he didn't start. He gives you a once over: matted black fur, no collar, and a defensive posture tell him you're likely feral.
It clicks.
Ah.
You're a shifter.
He works with shifters. Knows them. And this isn't a cat.
You're not acting like a regular one: no hissing, no meowing, and no running. Just still, like you're trying not to exist, hoping his attention shifts to anything other than you.
It's rare to see shifters outside of the militia, but he's cracked down on enough research laboratories to know that domestic shifters were a thing. They sell well on the black market.
Something uncomfortable wells in his chest. What if you got snatched?
Usually civilians can't tell the difference, but there are always exceptions with nefarious intentions to boot, and coupled with the fact you're tiny, you wouldn't survive. Simon can't, on good conscience leave you to your own devices. He remembers being that small, remembers what that felt like. No one deserves that.
If you were an adult, he'd walk away without a second thought. But you're not. Bloody hell.
The longer he continues to look at you, the tenser you get, shifting on your paws. He has to grab you, even if it gets him bit and scratched; he's due for his shots anyways. And his resolve must show — because without another second, you bolt.
Simon sighs, picking up his sandwich from the ground. He can see your small form taking a sharp turn down an alley.
Please I need toddler! reader and batfam plssss. Maybe some head canons or cuddle time. Maybe reader being sick or getting an ouchie and everyone is fussing over her and she is exaggerating it a bit so they would all kiss her boo boo and cuddle her.
I'm so sorry it took so long, I'm sick myself, lol!
"You little shit! Get back here!" Jason was never again agreeing to watch his younger sister. the four year old was the spawn of Satan himself, and that was saying a lot with Damian being their brother and all. Currently, Jason was chasing said younger sister, who had bolted out of one of the back doors in the manor.
(Name) was running barefooted in the wet grass as the sky above her poured down with rain. "You're gonna get sick, and B will have my ass!" For a toddler, she was surprisingly fast as fuck. Jason had made the mistake of leaving (Name) sat by herself at her little pink table to pop to the bathroom, when he came back she was halfway out the door.
Unfortunately, it was just little (Name) and himself in the manor today. Dick was back home in Blüdhaven, Tim was at Wayne enterprise along with Bruce, Damian was at school, he didn't know where the girls were and Alfred was out food shopping, so that left Jason with the devil.
(Name) let out a squeal as she was snatched up from the ground, her world turning sideways as Jason carried her under his arm like she was a football. "No! Jay-jay, wanna go down!" The toddler kicked her legs, pushing against her second eldest brother.
"(Name), you need to get straight into the bath, or you'll get sick, then guess what? Daddy will kick Jay's butt and he won't be allowed to babysit (Name) anymore. You here?" Jason explained, speaking in the third person as he shut the backdoor behind him.
(Name) let out a whine, kicking her legs again. "Not fair!" She screamed, her hand smacking Jason's hip. "Yeah, well, life isn't fair." Jason replied as he walked upstairs with a thirty pound child in his arm.
(Name) pouted as she was set down on the bath mat. "Stay." Jason commanded, pointing his finger at the child. (Name) let out a huff, plopping her bottom onto the floor as she picked at the fluffy bath mat while Jason bent over to run the bath.
"Arms up," Jason said after about five minutes and the bath filling up. The tot compiled, lifting her thin arms up so her older brother could lift her shirt off. "Oh ho ho, look at that belly" (Name) let out a loud giggle when Jason leaned over and blue a big raspberry on the four year olds stomach. "Stop, Jay-Jay!" The toddler pushed his head away with a giggle.
A few moments later, (Name) was happily splashing around in the water, forgetting all about the rain she had been in about twenty minutes ago.
'ACHOO!'
"I told you not to leave her alone." Bruce said, holding a shivering (Name) against his chest, the toddler's head lying on his shoulder. Unsurprisingly (Name) had gotten sick, and now Jason was getting his ear chewed off by Bruce for leaving her alone for a millisecond. Bruce turned away from Jason, making him look up as he did just in time to see (Name) poke her tongue out at him. "Little shit." Jason muttered as his eye twitched.
Summary: Dr. Ratio takes responsibility of you after an experiment goes awry. Which you, a child, gets isekai’d into the work of Honkai Star Rail. Based on my headcanons here.
Chapter 1: The Start
Chapter 2: Eye-catching
To add: This fic is COMPLETELY platonic and gender neutral. Readers age is not specified at all and there is no use of Y/N. New found family type of shit. Not proofread lol.
“Seems like you’re gonna be picked up late, bud.” Your teacher says after putting the call down with your parents. She gently takes your small hands and leads you to the classroom, letting you sit down on the giant rug where all the toys are.
You felt a little sad. Your parents are late again. It's been a long day for you and you want to take a rest now! But looking at your teacher, you didn’t mind spending more time with her.
Noticing your foul mood getting better, she gives you a toy bear to play with in the meantime. “Here you go. I’ll call someone to watch over you while I go get something. Be good, okay?” You giggle as she ruffles your hair before leaving briefly. Now you’re left alone in the big classroom with a stuffed bear.
“Hello, Mr. Bear” Its stubby paws gesture to a small wave as you puppet it with your hands. A small smile escapes your lips as you play with it more. Your imagination becomes much more creative with imagining scenarios with the bear.
Perhaps you’ll take it in a cool adventure! Or.. or.. maybe somewhere scary where you defeat the evil monster!! Or go solve a mystery with Mr. Bear as a sidekick! How about all of it? Yeah!!!! You pat yourself on the back for being a smart detective in thinking about how you’ll (spend your time) go on an adventure!
Your playtime is cut short when an odd gust of wind blows past you. You look behind and a small crack of whatever is in the air. It pulsates with a soft glow, almost like it's beckoning you to come closer. An ominous feeling creeps up onto your spine and you decide that it isn’t a good thing.
The anomaly suddenly breaks apart in a maelstrom of whirring winds sucking anything nearby. From chairs, tables, toys and everything. The classroom trembles and glass starts to crack.
You act on instinct but struggle to stand up, feeling weaker and weaker. The lights flicker constantly, almost in the same erratic rhythm as your beating heart.Your senses start to dull from the sheer intensity of the situation. Tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes and yet only to be sucked in by whatever it is behind you.
“It’s hard to breathe-'' More of your tears are sucked in. Your steps to the door get lighter and lighter, till you’re practically in the air getting sucked towards the portal. And as quickly as you get sucked in, quickly your consciousness fades.
You wake up groggy with a faint ringing in your ear. Soon that ringing turns into indiscernible voices. That’s when you decide to open your eyes. The first thing you see is the blinding lights above you. You blink it all away and focus more properly in the room that you’re in. Clean white room with many digital images on the screen. The occasional beeping of machines filling the void of silence.
Your lips feel oddly moist. Looking down, an oxygen mask is placed on you, connected to a machine that makes the rhythmic beeps that you hear. You try to try to remove the mask with your hands but that's when you notice a wire inside connected from your hand. Your unease becomes more palpable and your gaze follows the wire connecting to a bag of fluids hung on a rack.
Your breaths start to accelerate. Where the hell were you? Why are you here? What happened? Where are your parents? Where are your siblings? Where is home? Your heart hammers against your ribcage. Sweat trickling down against your forehead, despite the coolness of the room. Irrationality and fear colliding with each other in a dizzying storm.
The machine beside you beeps louder and louder. Incessantly dulling your head to think properly. Your chest starts to tighten and your sobs are unable to escape from your lips because of the bile forming in your throat. Tears well in your eyes- through your blurry vision you reach out for something. Anything.
Your hand is enveloped by something warm. It pulls you in, surrounding you completely in a dull embrace. You shut your eyes to focus on slowing your heart rate, the dullness becoming calming. Still, the intensity of your panic lingers longer. Your hands tremble, yet hold on to the warmth with an iron fist. Scared of letting it go and possibly losing it forever.
Your senses start to come back and you hear the muffled voice of someone. With the crash of fatigue washing over you, it becomes a lullaby for you. You follow each faint word with a held breath and exhaling slowly. You settle to lean further into the warmth that envelops you, letting you fall asleep with ease.
By the time you wake up again, the warmth is already gone. Instead being poorly replaced by a blanket on you. The blinding lights back again to bite your eyes. You wince and blink rapidly to adjust yourself more. When you try to rub your eyes, your hands are held firmly by someone else.
You squint your eyes to look at them, a shade of purple is something you noticed first. Then a click of a tongue after. “Turn off half of the lights.” A man says and quickly the strain on your eyes is uplifted.
You finally adjust and you see that what was connected to your hand is now gone. But now you can also see him clearly. ‘Huh, so the purple you saw was actually his hair.’ The first thing that came to mind after noticing his hair was to greet the man in front of you. You open your mouth but your throat tightens. No voice comes out of you, so you opt to close your mouth and nod your head instead since your hands are still held back by him.
The man removes his hands from yours carefully, as if anticipating any form of sudden movement from you. You look at him, an odd pair of reddish-pink eyes looking back at you. The reflection of the light highlights the yellow ring around his pupil, consuming you in a hypnotic gaze.
Perhaps because of the peculiarity of his eyes is the reason why you’re so calm at the moment as he backs away to give you ample space to examine you properly. His gaze still unwavering, although with a hint of softness. There's a deliberate sound of calmness in the air as he asks, “Are you feeling well?”
You nod wordlessly in response, not in the mood to speak. He hums in acknowledgement before turning to the other person near the doorway of the room. You see the other person visibly flinch from his gaze and immediately leaves after excusing themself from the room.
Once alone with you, he takes a much more intentional pace in his actions as he takes out an ID from pocket and hands it to you. He points to it then to himself. “I am Doctor. Veritas Ratio. Your current doctor.” He speaks slowly, enunciating each word to make sure you understand properly.
You repeat his name in his head. Veritas Ratio. It's a very unique name that makes your curiosity spark up. He is, afterall, very peculiar. Different hair color, different eyes, different name? How very peculiar indeed!
Your curiosity must've shown when he speaks, “I will entertain your questions in the future. First-” he pauses before giving you a tablet with a blank form needing your information. “Since you can’t speak yet, you will introduce yourself with this”
You take the tablet with sheer astonishment at its sleek, high-tech design. Ratio guides you in the form. “Surely you are adept in inputting?” His question is answered with the furrow of your brows and the tilting of your head as you try to piece together what he meant.
A small part of Ratio finds endearment from the face of your frustration. He pushes it down to focus on the matter at hand. He leans closer and taps on a blank line on the form, a keyboard appearing on the tablet. Your mood turns from frustration to one of unexpected clarity.
It works like a normal tablet- just looks more techy, you guess. You type your name slowly with your two index fingers. Each press is paired with a beep that amuses you to no end. You signal him that you finished typing by facing the front of the tablet to him with an expectant gaze. Ratio hums, acknowledging you by taking the tablet and reading your name aloud.
Now it was his turn to look at you expectantly, as if a silent question if he’d pronounced your name correctly. A surge of delight fills you as you nod excitedly with a big smile. Ratio nods at you back. Although his face is stoic, there's a twinge of amusement from him as he watches your eyes twinkle by simply reading your name aloud.
“Children are truly simple minded.” Ratio concluded audibly. When he notices your head tilted at him, he dismisses you, explaining that it was nothing. He hands you the tablet back and guides you to the rest of the questions in the form.
Age. “Little one, how old are you?” Ratio asks with a raised brow. You hold up your fingers to show him how old you were. He points to the number you’re supposed to press. Mentally, he notes down the fact that you can count. He just doesn’t know how far. Perhaps he should teach you personally? Who knows what kind of fallacious education any other teacher would provide? Perhaps even… So on and so forth.
You stare at Ratio who is clearly deep in thought. You don’t know why, but currently your empty stomach doesn’t care when it growls loudly. Your face glows red with mortification before turning away from Ratio quickly. Clearly the hospital bed will be your new grave from all this embarrassment.
Your mind changes immediately though after a large hand is gently placed atop of your head. “I’ll be back with some food.” Ratio says before getting up and quickly leaving. You wait for him patiently, and to be fair, it didn’t really take a long time. As if he’s already anticipated your hunger.
The door opens to reveal Ratio holding a tray of food. He sits down next to you and you can clearly see the.. Uh.. food? Much to Ratio’s dismay, your mind quickly changes again. He observes how you looked so appalled with the food he brought.
Why does it look like green sludge? Is he trying to feed you poison? When he brings a spoonful of whatever he brought, you turn away with a grumble. But your conscience gnaws at you. You wanna be a good kid like how your teacher said! So you, with an unbroken-probably-slightly-broken will, turn back to Ratio who still holds the spoonful to your lips. You gulp cartoonishly, mentally preparing yourself for the battle of your tastebuds.
Quickly, you take a sip and surprisingly it tastes… nothing! It's soft and easy to swallow but that's about it. Nothing special about the meal. You decide to suck it up and keep eating the small spoonfuls that Ratio gives. When you finally finish the meals, a sigh of relief escapes from you when he offers you a glass of water to wash the ‘taste’ away.
Nonetheless, the battle of your tastebuds is over! Huzzah! But wait- you are immediately distracted by a small, yellow, glossy pudding. Your eyes light up in excitement at the sight of sweet goodness. The pudding glistens as Ratio scoops a small spoonful and feeds to you. You, of course, take a bite as fast as you can.
You savor the velvety sweetness but comforting taste that completely melts in your mouth. Each spoonful fed, the messier you get, causing Ratio to sigh, “You were eating properly earlier and now here you are with a mess on your face.” You raised your hand to wipe your face but Ratio was quicker to wipe the sides of your mouth with a wet wipe. “Let me. You’ll only make a bigger mess” He grumbles. You giggle, the first time Ratio hears your voice.
“Oh? You even have the gall to laugh at the mess you made? The sugar must’ve gotten to you already. Perhaps no more pudding for you.”
A horrified gasp escapes your lips and immediately you grab his sleeve and tug on it over and over. You stare at Ratio with big eyes that shimmers with apologies and hope for him not to confiscate the pudding you haven’t finished yet. The more that Ratio stares, the more impossible it felt for him to say no to you.
Although to you, he looked stoic as he was before but you came at him with some prayers and a dream to eat pudding again. Your silent pleading finally works when Ratio sighs and gives you another spoonful of pudding. “Wasting food is not a good thing after all.” You nod, this time you eat carefully so as to not make a mess, lest you give him a chance to take your pudding away again.
You take a small rest to digest properly while Ratio is out to put the empty trays away. Perhaps it was out of boredom when you yawned. By the time Ratio comes back, you were already asleep. He sighs and comes closer to properly tuck you in the bed. Once finished, he just stares at you and thinks about what he needs to do next when you wake up.
A walk in the hospital's garden, some basic hygiene, and probably a place for you to stay. Yeah, sounds good to him. But first, he’s gotta complain to the resource management about the shitty blankets they have. Ratio stands up, turning the lights off on the way to the door. Leaving you with his coat tucked around you.
A/N: That's it for now folks! This is going to have multiple chapters that'll follow my headcanons so its not over yet :3. Thank you so much for reading! A like or a reblog would be very appreciated.
The first few weeks were…something so wholly new. Busier, keeping the two of them on their toes enough that their feet hurt from the pacing and the rocking and just…standing in general. They were never really the ones to go barefoot but desperate times called for desperate measures and usually white socks were switched to black ones indoors when they had you.
You’re sick that entire first month. Feverish from exposure to the cold and water that day and congested to the point your poor little nose is a little red and an endless stream. You’ve a cough that startles them awake at night because they think it’s stolen the breath from you. At such a young age, you can’t really be given anything. Just the warmed milk, and occasionally a light broth they give you sips of to help warm you, to help loosen up that mucus that ails you. It’s trial and error, and many, many changes of clothes and diapers, but they get you through it somehow. A win in their books because what did he and Olruggio know about raising a babe?
How were they to know you would soon outgrow every and everything they got you. Once so tiny they could hold you in the cupped palms of their hands now measuring from elbow to fingertip just three months later.
The routine is a little easier then. They know what you like in terms of comfort, they know what you dislike (Qifrey frowning/Olruggio making anything even remotely sounding like a huff).
What's worse (or good in terms of your milestones) is that you've learned a few new ticks, if you would. You can sit up on your own now, and you roll onto your tummy alone, and hold the bottle yourself when it comes to eating. Which again, is great for your milestones, but absolutely anxiety inducing for them when they set you on the carpeted floor for toy time and turn to find you practically smothering yourself in a pillow because you wanted to roll onto your tummy instead.
Qifrey’s breath catches the first time he turns around and finds you face-down in a plush pillow, tiny limbs tangled like a kitten that got stuck in yarn. For half a second, his heart stops.
Olruggio isn’t even in the room, he'd gone to fetch your next bottle, and so it falls entirely on Qifrey to process this: you’re mobile. You’re choosing things without being told.
He crouches quickly, hands hovering, hesitant as ever, but when you let out a muffled squeak (perfectly content) and wiggle an arm free to pat at nothing with glee… something warm blooms behind his ribs.
“Ah,” is all he says softly. Not praise yet, not quite, they’ve been taught by their training not to overstimulate infants with too much vocalization, but there’s awe beneath that single sound.
Gently, carefully, he peels the pillow from your face just enough so air can reach those pink cheeks of yours again. His thumb brushes away lint from your eyebrow; then another stroke down one soft cheekbone like checking for fever or simply memorizing texture because this moment feels monumental somehow…
Then came the crawling.
Gods, they couldn't have been more woefully underprepared for you to learn to crawl. The real test on how they'd handle your independence as it grew closer and closer.
The day had been perfect for a picnic. Olruggio was one to enjoy staying inside, but with you rolling about as you pleased, he dreaded to think that you might actually roll away while Qifrey set up the blanket. So he tagged along, he held you and kept you distracted (you were a bit clingier to Qifrey as of late) while Qifrey set up the blanket and the little safe to eat snacks for you. And all went great.
For about an hour.
They were laying back while you lay on your tummy, babbling on a teether they'd fashioned for you, and made the unfortunate mistake of letting their eyes close as they laughed about something.
And you were off.
Crawling away before they even realized it.
Fast for a 16 pound baby that was just half asleep from two whole mashed bananas and the little tea biscuits you refused to let anyone else partake in. (They were for you, but still). They turn and you're already out of sight in the surrounding meadowlands.
The laugh still lingers in the air, Olruggio’s deep, rare chuckle blending with Qifrey’s quiet hum of amusement.
Then silence.
No babble. No teether-clicking. Just wind through tall grass and distant birdsong.
Olruggio is the first to feel it, the absence where your warmth had been curled against his side moments ago. His eyes snap open, body going rigid like a predator catching scent of prey gone missing.
Qifrey doesn’t move as fast, but he sees it instantly: the empty space on the blanket, your tiny socks half-slipped off one foot from all that wiggling before escape.
“Selene?” Olruggio calls sharp with urgency, and sits up so fast his hat nearly flies off into a bush behind them
They scan in unison toward where you were facing: eastward along soft meadowland dipping down toward wildflowers and gently rolling hills. (They regret not having this in the fenced portion of the garden now).
And there, smaller than an ant from this distance, a dark smudge moving quickly over green earth.
Absolute little shit you are, you're moving double time like you're on a damn mission. Like you know exactly where you're going and nobody is going to stop you. (they absolutely are, Qifrey couldn't fly fast enough with his sylph shoes in his opinion to snatch you up and bring you back, heart attack averted.)
Qifrey is moving before his mind fully processes the terror.
The second he sees that tiny, determined speck crawling with shocking speed, faster than any baby has a right to go, he’s on his feet. The picnic blanket flutters behind him as Olruggio swears under his breath and scrambles up too.
He's a blur of white cloak in an instant, zipping down to where you are and retrieving you and coming right back, face pale with panic.
And you?
You're giggling from the flight, unaware of the potential double infarction you nearly caused with that little stunt. Hair wind whipped and in your eyes as you tug on the clasp of Qifrey's cloak excitedly.
Picnics would be in a newly fenced off area of the garden and the fence would have slats too thin for you to get through. They plan ahead with taller posts in general, just to be safe.
After all, after crawling comes walking, and oh boy...
They though they were unprepared for crawling? Walking made them realize they were raising an eloper.
And that incident is a whole can of worms on it's own, because it happens nine months into you being with them.
It's the dead of night, Olruggio had just taken his turn of going to check on you in the room across the hall and gone back to bed in his own room down the hall when it happens.
You wake. You crawl about in your crib for a bit, try some new movements, like all babies do. Throw in some pulling and kicking off the bed.
And low and fucken behold. you're suddenly on your favorite carpet on the floor!
Qifrey wakes to a sound he doesn’t recognize.
Not crying. Not fussing. Just…silence.
The kind of silence that follows action, not peace.
He blinks in the dark, moonlight slicing through the windows, and listens. His ears strain toward your room across the hall, where you were supposed to be asleep like clockwork by this hour (usually after one final bottle and two lullabies from him).
Nothing.
No cooing. No rustling of blankets or soft baby kicks against wood slats like usual when you shifted in sleep.
He sits up slowly, bare feet touching the cold stone floor as dread pools low in his gut, because something feels off. Deeply wrong on instinct alone.
You're already exploring the sudden change that's occurred to the vastness that usually surrounds you, even in the dark. Everything is suddenly changed. Suddenly there's more to see.
Like this strange floor.
It's not your carpet, it's not soft, but it's nice and cold and it goes further than your carpet does!
You follow it past the big thin thing that they leave open, (the door) and find it goes on way past it too. You follow the stones down the hall, stumbling slightly here and there, maybe even giving a little topple, but you persevere onwards, quiet giggles leaving your lips until your foot slips and suddenly-
You’re sat!
The floor is strange there, it's under your butt, but also..still under your feet?
You wiggle forward a little and fall onto where your feet are, and there's more weird floor!
(You've found the stairs..and a decently safe way to traverse them at least.)
The house is still. Too still.
Qifrey hears the softest thump from down the hall. Not loud. Barely more than a breath, but in this quiet, dead-of-night hush? It might as well be a gong.
He’s moving before he finishes buttoning his robe, heart thudding with growing alarm. The door to your room is wide open, the latch hadn’t been fully engaged (Olruggio had checked on you an hour ago and left it slightly ajar like usual). He steps into the nursery…
Empty crib.
Blankets tangled on one side where you’d wiggled out and fallen overboard during escape operations no baby should ever plan so effectively at nine months old.
He spins around fast enough that his hair whips across his face and rushes back into the hallway.
Empty.
Not another noise coming from anywhere in the dark.
Meanwhile, you've reached the bottom of the steps with a soft 'oof'. The funny floor ended suddenly and more of the normal floor went forward. You crawl around for a bit, then manage to get onto your feet, and that's when you see it.
The thingy with the yummies inside. (The glass biscuit jar on the kitchen counter.)
The kitchen is dark, lit only by the thin silver glow of moonlight filtering through the windows above the sink. The biscuit jar sits on its usual spot, centrally placed, because Olruggio insists on it being within easy reach whenever you tantrum.
You’re small. Tiny. Not even as tall as their smallest bar stool.
But you’re determined.
And that jar? It’s tall and glass and filled with those little tea biscuits, the same ones you hogged at the picnic like they were gold coins meant only for royalty ({You} which, in your mind, was absolutely true).
Your hands go up first, pudgy fingers stretching toward it as you wobble on unsteady legs that have never held your full weight before tonight.
One step…
Then another…
A tiny stumble forward, but balance! Somehow! You catch yourself against the cabinet edge with surprising coordination for an infant who just learned crawling three months ago.
You take a few more steps and find something you can push. (A stool Qifrey left at the counter during their midnight delights). You move to push it again, for what, you don't know, but your foot knocks against something that draws your attention instead.
A wooden (not that you would know) bar.
You nudge it a bit with your feet, curious, before you try to push it down, instead finding yourself at eye height with the seat suddenly.
Maybe you could get up there too?
Tiny grabby hands curl against the seat and like before (so you learned) you pull. It's a bit of a struggle, but you manage it. And there it is, right in front of you, the pretty thing with yummies in it.
You crawl onto the counter, contentedly grabbing the jar with no concern about the panicked two upstairs calling for you.
Obviously these yummies are more important.
The jar wobbles in your grip, too heavy for such small hands, but you don’t care. With a soft clink, it tips toward you as you haul it forward with all the strength of a determined nine-month-old who has never once been denied food.
Lid unscrewed? No. Not even attempted.
But babies are problem-solvers by instinct, and soon enough, after several enthusiastic tugs and one lucky slip of the lid from earlier that day, the biscuits spill out onto the countertop like tiny crumbs of victory.
You squeal, a quiet, muffled sound, but pure joy. The first independent snack acquisition! You grab one between sticky fingers (still warm from being stored near a heating brick) and shove half into your mouth in triumphant bites before Qifrey or Olruggio can possibly descend those stairs to find the missing child on an unapproved midnight expedition.
They knew it wasn’t gonna be easy when they took you in. They knew babies are inherently difficult to care for.
But gods, they hadn’t thought you would make it this difficult.
From infancy to toddlerhood you keep them on their toes. Surely...it gets better from there, right? Sleeping through the night better?
(When you get sick it's Olruggio that finds you standing in the dim light of the cracked open door, just..standing there with something dribbling down your chin and sleep shirt. A quiet "I frew up" leaving your lips as you promptly throw up again as if you needed more proof than what's on your nightshirt. He gets you cleaned up and tucked away in the dead of night.)
You're playing in the toy room?
(Psych. Qifrey forgot to properly latch the door on his way out and he finds you nibbling on a mountain apple still attached to the branch of his little sapling bushes. like you're a little mountain goat foraging for food.)
Qifrey started teaching you how to write and draw shapes? The fundamentals of spell craft?
(Yeah now you both need a bath and the study room has tiny ink hands along the wall that will need to be washed out. Thank goodness it was just your run of the mill ink and not the Silverwood kind.)
You wanna help bake?
(Well what was expected? You NOT to accidently drop a few eggs? You NOT to wobble on the stool you're standing on when they look away for one second and spill the attempt of your own starter all over yourself?)
Qifrey learns, quickly, that parenting you is less like raising a child and more like conducting a delicate, unpredictable experiment where the results are never quite what was expected.
Toddlerhood is...
There's no words to explain toddlerhood for them but they make it out alive. They survive the never ending battle of surprises with a hyperactive four year old.
It's like a switch is flipped halfway through your fourth year. One day you're playing in the toy room and they're just...waiting for something to happen. For another moment of chaos that they've come to expect, but instead they hear silence.
Silence is never good.
Sneaking to the door, they peer in, fully expecting a mess, just to find you sitting by the mirror, your little princess doll in your lap as you just...stare at your reflection.
The silence is unnerving.
Qifrey stands frozen in the doorway, Olruggio just behind him, both of them braced for disaster, the kind that usually involves spilled juice, torn books, or tiny feet on forbidden furniture.
But nothing.
No sound. No movement. Just…stillness.
They exchange a glance, Olruggio’s brow furrowing with quiet concern, and then they step inside quietly as if entering a sacred space where one wrong breath might shatter something fragile.
You don’t turn to look at them. You’re sitting cross-legged on the soft rug in front of your little vanity mirror, the one Qifrey had custom-made so you could brush your hair like "a big girl," as he called it (though you mostly used it to stare).
Your doll, a plush princess with golden curls and pink lace gown, rests neatly in your lap while you gaze intently at yourself: wide grey eyes meeting their reflection under the warm glow of lamplight.
Not crying.
Not laughing.
Just…observing.
You point to the mirror quietly, as if that would answer their unspoken questions.
"Selene..."
Qifrey crouches down slowly, the soft fabric of his trousers brushing against the rug as he brings himself to your level. Olruggio lingers near the door, arms crossed, not out of disinterest, but because this is unfamiliar territory.
They’re used to loud. To movement. To demands, "up!" "juice!" "no nap!"
But this? This quiet contemplation from a child who usually barrels through life like a tiny storm?
It throws them.
You point again at your reflection, small finger tapping gently on glass, and then back at yourself in real time, as if connecting something profound that they can't yet name.
Qifrey follows your gesture with his eye…and then it hits him: you're not just looking at yourself, you're recognizing yourself. Not just as someone who eats biscuits or makes messes, but as Selene. A person separate from others.
A first mirror moment.
His breath catches softly in his chest
.
Olruggio's stern face softens instantly.
Neither says anything for several heartbeats
In retrospect, they know you didn't previously know, or rather, never really thought about, your sentience or consciousness before. You're four years old, why would you think about it, but it's a big moment in your cognitive and conscious development. Like today you woke up, saw your reflection and thought, "I am alive." "I am a person." "My name is Selene."
This is no longer about the baby he pulled from debris. Not the infant who cried through fevered nights or learned to crawl by sheer will. This is a different kind of milestone, one that isn't marked by physical growth or skill, but by awareness.
You didn’t just look at your reflection and smile like you often do when seeing your pretty dress. You looked and understood.
I am here.
I exist.
This face…it’s me.
Olruggio finally steps forward, moving silently across the floor until he's beside Qifrey on his knees too, their shoulders touching for once without tension between them over parenting differences (because right now? They're united).
He reaches out first, gently, and brushes a curl from your forehead before cupping one side of your face with warm hands calloused from inventing enchanted contraptions.
No words yet.
Just awe.
You crawl into Olruggio's lap for once, head resting against his chest as you point at the reflections again.
"Tha's papa Qify..." You point to Qifrey then to Olruggio's reflection. "N' papa Olly..."
Olruggio freezes.
Not dramatically, no gasp, no sudden movement, but his entire body stills like a clock that’s been paused mid-tick. His arms hover for half a second, unsure whether to wrap around you or not because you’ve never called him that before.
Papa Olly.
You’ve never called any of them Papa.
Qifrey doesn’t move either, but his eye shimmers in the lamplight, soft and impossibly tender, as he watches you nestle into Olruggio’s chest with complete trust. You’re pointing at their reflections like an explorer introducing her people: Here are my papas. They are mine.
You say it so simply.
So naturally.
Like it was always true.
And maybe it was, they had taken care of you since day one, slept when they could beside your crib, changed diapers without complaint (mostly), rocked you through colic storms and fevers…but hearing those names from your small voice? It lands differently than anything else ever has.
Olruggio finally lowers his arms, and wraps them around you tight.
Careful as handling glassware infused with magic.
Gentle as adjusting gears on a delicate machine.
He kisses the top of your head once, slowly, a rare public show of affection.
Mind you, it's not a word they've ever told you to call them.
In fact, they themselves have never used the word in the Atelier before, and they suspect it was overheard at the festival they took you to last night. Where witches got together to see their best spells. Where little witchlings ran around the city of Ezrest and visited the chosen stalls. You may have heard the word from one of them in all the excitement and put two and two together. The lanterns, the chatter of witches in fancy cloaks, children clutching tiny spellbooks and giggling as they tried to draw glyphs on parchment.
And there were families. Witch families. A few couples holding hands with their kids, some calling them "Papa" or "Mama" openly while walking through the stalls.
You had been tucked between them that night, Olruggio carrying you when your feet got tired after climbing a small hill to see firework spells lighting up above Ezrest’s rooftops. You’d clapped with delight at every burst of colored light, completely mesmerized.
They hadn’t thought anything of it then.
But clearly…you listened.
Watched.
Absorbed everything like a sponge absorbing water.
Now Qifrey exhales softly, a quiet laugh without sound, and reaches out to brush his thumb over your cheekbone where Olruggio’s kiss still lingers warmly on your hairline.
It wasn't taught.
Wasn't rehearsed or suggested by anyone, not even him (who rarely used endearing terms unless speaking about something deeply cherished).
You yawn, which is about right on time for your usual naps, and wriggle to turn on Olruggio's lap, wrapping your little arms around his neck and settling in.
Another change of pace. Usually you practically hold Qifrey hostage for a nap, not that he ever really minds, he needs a rest here and there, but today, you choose Olruggio.
Your Papa Olly.
Olruggio feels the weight of you curling into him, small, warm, and suddenly heavy with sleep, and his breath hitches again.
This is new too. You’ve never chosen him for naps. Not even once.
Qifrey is your safe haven, the one who rocks you to sleep after storms, reads tomes aloud in a low voice until your eyes drift shut, holds you when nightmares come (which are rare but do happen). Olruggio? He’s usually the background presence during these moments, the quiet observer watching from a chair nearby or tinkering softly in another room with his tools while Qifrey does all the comforting.
But tonight?
You’re clinging to him.
Your little arms loop around his neck like vines finding their way home. Your face presses into the crook of his shoulder where fabric meets skin beneath layers of clothing, a trust so pure it makes something ache behind Olruggio's ribs
He doesn’t move.
Barely breathes.
Afraid that if he shifts even slightly…you’ll wake up and realize this isn't supposed to be happening
Those years are a type of bliss they could never put words to.
Technically no, Olruggio wasn't her father. The forms Qifrey signed only list himself as a legal guardian and parental figure. But like hell he would take that from him. Ever.
From there it truly comes easy...and maybe that's where they should have seen something coming.
Maybe that's when they should have kept their guard up and not let it drop as low as it has been.
Nine years. Nine years of bliss and pride and excellence. You thrive learning magic between the two of them. Thrive in inventing spells and in the tests of apprenticeship. You excel where you put your mind to it and are such a constant in their life it feels like nothing could ever go wrong.
...and how wrong could they be?
How did the eve of your 13th year go so awry?
A routine job, just help some town folk nearby, come home, have a good dinner and that spiced mountain apple cake you adore so much, and some presents. That's all the day needed for you three.
Instead something went wrong while you were helping people who were hurt. Someone got into your mind, filled it with questions, with stories about what happened to the town that had been here thirteen years prior before a great flood.
You were always one to keep a cool head but something that day made you lose it.
Then the brimmed caps came.
Two in passing, spouting nonsense about that day. Rumors that they had put to rest themselves. Manipulating your already restless mind.
They never expected you to agree to go with them for answers.
Truly it must have been some kind of hypnosis spell. Maybe they did something to you back in the town and that's why you had been acting so strange that day. Something, anything had to explain why you, their kind, fierce girl, had taken the ink stained hand of that brimmed cap that spoke falsified sweet nothings to you. Who promised to give you everything you wanted, answers and more like what they gave you wasn't enough in the slightest.
Something had to explain why they went home, only the two of them, silent as the night, and sat there and the smothering sight of the little party decorations they had put up that morning stared back at them almost mockingly.
The decorations, blue and white streamers, a hand-lettered "Happy 13th, Selene!" banner above the dining table, still hanging perfectly in place.
Untouched. Unmoved.
They hadn’t even had time to light the candles on your cake, the one Qifrey spent hours perfecting with mountain apple filling between layers of spiced dough. The plate sits covered by glass cloche where Olruggio left it after dinner prep, untouched since noon.
Now? Now it’s just…a monument to something that never happened.
Qifrey stands frozen in the doorway of the study, the same room where you first scribbled glyphs on parchment as a toddler under his patient guidance. He stares at nothing: at chairs not occupied, at tea gone cold beside empty plates meant for three people who were supposed to be celebrating tonight
Olruggio is worse.
He paces like a caged animal through every room downstairs, checking windows (locked), doors (latched), fireplaces (no one came through). Over and over again, as if checking would bring you back.
But no sign.
Nothing but silence where your laughter should’ve been echoing.
That was two years ago.
Now here he stands in what used to be your room, now sealed off from the rest of the atelier, your crib and clothes and belongings left like artifacts of a different time.
It still hurts.
It still hurts so damn bad.
He knows he can't do a thing about it. How could he when brimmed caps were so damned hard to find in the first place? Yet as hard as he racked his brain years ago when if happened, he didn't have this moment.
He didn't have you, suddenly standing in the room, thin fingers tracing the wooden rails of the crib Olruggio made for you, that wide brimmed witches hat seated upon your head where his atelier's apprentice cap once sat. Eyes once kind now stormy, disgusted even. Then you look up and...oh how they soften. Like whatever ailed you evaporated just then.
Ehhhhh…. I’ve been posting a lot of fluff so to even it out it’s time for angst!BTW reader sees misha as an older brother , the story will explain.
Oh and this is the music boxes song , Genshin players might recognize it .
Locus amoenus
Anyways! Time to emotionally traumatize yall!
“Must you go big brother? “ You asked .
The light haired boy just smiled at you before replying,” Yes , I do.” He pats your head gently before heading off to clean the streets of Penacony .
Little did you know , that would be the last day you would see your elder brother.
He found you in an alleyway , all alone and cold , with thin rags covering your body that didn’t do anything to keep you warm from the chilled air . You were surrounded by garbage and broken glass so it took a while to clean .
He took you in , gave you clean clothes , a nice bed , and a warm blanket plus a place to stay that’s better than the alley you were found in.
Ever since that day , you followed him as he cleaned the streets and helped him sometimes, he even got you a smaller broomstick identical to his .
He introduced you to new people , like the trailblazer , who in your opinion, smelled like citrusy dew with a hint of honey .
When you told him this he looked at you with a surprised look on his face and asked how he smelled like , you replied with fresh ice with a hint of mint .
Turns out you had an advanced sense of smell , you could smell emotions, but only general ones . Such as happiness or sadness. Nothing too complex .
Misha usually smelled like ice and mint , that was his emotion of contentment , however , that day , he still had ice in his smell , but… the mint was gone and was replaced with an overpowering scent of something lemony .
You didn’t know what that scent meant , so you let it go and figured you would find out later when Misha came back to you , he would usually let you tag along but at days he would tell you to stay with Gallagher , the brown dude who said he was 13 even though he has a beard .
He smelled like alcoholic drinks with a bit of blood mixed in , but you didn’t mind it , you just assumed it was something else that you didn’t know the smell of .
Misha usually didn’t let you tag along when the trailblazer came to meet him , those days he had that lemony scent that made your nose scrunch up .
When you stayed over at Gallagher’s place , you tried to help by bringing him ingredients, and time to time he left and made you watch over the bar while he greeted the trailblazer and Misha .
Today was no exception, Misha dropped you off at where Gallagher worked at , you stayed there for a while , but you were feeling a little mischievous and sneaked out when you were getting ingredients .
You decided the main objective of your super secret mission was to find your elder brother , so off you went exploring the streets of penacony!
As you walked around the roads of Penacony , you finally saw Misha and the trailblazer talking in a corner and then walking off .
You felt a little bit heartbroken , did Misha prefer the trailblazer more then you for company? Were you too much work for him , maybe it’s because you’re too energetic….
But nevertheless , you didn’t let that discourage you and trailed after them , you couldn’t hear anything except trio , and same . Hm…. You couldn’t find any thing that connected to those words so you dropped it.
You started to head towards them ,but before you could even say anything to them , Gallagher found you and dragged you back to the bar stating that you weren’t supposed to be outside of the bar without telling him.
How rude!
After a while , Gallagher dropped you off at Misha’s house , how unusual! Misha usually came to pick you up! But there are times he works overtime so it’s okay!
You entered the house only to realize , wait….. where’s Misha at?…. He does work overtime but…. Never up to midnight?…..
Soon , someone knocked at the door, it was the trailblazer! You felt sorta jealous about Misha hanging out with them but it’s okay! Everyone can have different friends!
“ Hey …. Are you Y/N?” The trailblazer asked , you noticed a pale blue and white music box in their hands , elegantly decorated with stars and planets.
You nodded before the trailblazer put the music box in your hands and told you ,” Open it , it’s a gift from Misha , and handle it gently okay?”
You stare at them suspiciously before opening the music box and winding the handle so it plays , soft music . Akin to the stars moving .
Soon , after that , a holographic image of an , who looks like the older version of Misha started to talk to you .
“ Hello , Y/N , yes I am Misha , unfortunately you can’t communicate with me because this is a pre-recorded message , so please just listen to me .”
You tilt your head to the side as misha continues , is this truly your elder brother?
“ This message is here to inform that I … have passed away ,” Your heart stopped as your skin went pale .” Although I wished to have stayed with you and play the part of your elder brother, time waits for no one .”
Your pupils shrink as the information that Misha , the person who saved you and considered as your brother , is now dead.
“ I have not regretted all this time looking over you and caring for you as if you were my own blood , while you were a piece of work , I still found myself enjoying my time with you .”
You start to hiccup and sniff as tears poured down your face like a water fall , the trailblazer there behind you crying silent tears .
He kneels down to your eye level before saying ,” After all this time , I’m sorry I have to leave, dear child , please, live a life you’ll remember…. “
“Goodbye Y/N.”
The hologram stopped as the music box closed leaving you two in silence , the words echoing around in your head.
You stood there shocked . Tears running down your cheeks as you took in every single thing he said .
What happened?….Misha?… He’s gone now?…
You dropped to your knees where the hologram was and blink slowly .The trailblazer kneeled down with you and hugged you as the truth settled in.
“ I’m so sorry …” they whispered in your ear.
The dam broke as all the water started to rush out .
“ No No No ! Big brother can’t be dead! He can’t leave me!!”
You wailed and started to cry uncontrollably as you thrashed around in their hold , resisting reality .
The trailblazer just hugged you and kept you there as they cried along with you , silently accepting what you couldn’t .
Requested: Hi hi!! I was wondering if you could do Octavilline (however the hell you spell it) with a Male child reader (platonic obvi) reader just a chaotic little gremlin that gets into things he isn’t suppose to and somehow has made a little ‘hide out’ in the ‘rafters’ or ‘attic’ of the dorm. Idk just a little gremlins mc stealing and causing chaos around school and then hiding in the ocean dorm sounds fun :3
Ofc you don’t have to! Love your writings btw <3
Genre: Fluff, mild angst
Characters: Azul, Jade, Floyd
Warnings: ....you know I had to do it....MC has an angsty past...daddy issues...and is scared of...BONDS!!! Kay bye love you😜
Summary: Small gremlin child in the attic, what will he do?
”WHERE DID HE GO?!” It was an average Tuesday in Octavinelle dorm. It was a wonder when Crowley dumped this literal child on their doorstep, saying some bullshit like “The dark mirror summoned him and thus I shall be busy trying to get him home along with the prefect! Woe is me! Anyways y’all look after him yeah? Okay byeeee” and dropped the kid and left.
Azul is quite terrible with children, does not like them one bit (the trauma probably) so he thought that this boy would be a lot of trouble. He was of course right. [Name] was a little gremlin and is not allowed within 5 feet near Floyd as those two will get ideas. The amount of heart attacks this kid has given him-
Jade is also not good with children for completely different reasons. He would give the child poisonous plants to hold, mushrooms to eat and just let the kid roam free in the woods because he found it funny. He is more skilled with keeping the kid in check though, experience with Floyd and all.
Floyd is fucking shit with kids. He would let the kid hold a knife or whatever sharp, pointy object he finds. They would be best friends, Floyd will teach him how to squeeze the little minnows and then the child will now be squeezing poor, unsuspecting students. Floyd almost shed a tear in pride! The monster trio of Octavinelle: Floyd, Jade and [Name] all equally terrifying.
With that in mind…
”I DON’T KNOW! HE WAS JUST HERE!!” The child escaped timeout. The mafia had to read up on books about parenting unless they would like the kid to die, Azul became an exasperated father whilst Jade was that one sassy aunt who talks shit about everyone and Floyd was that fresh out of jail, but still cool, uncle.
Said child, was hiding in his little hide out in the attic kid the dorm. No one has found it yet and he intends to keep it that way. He doesn’t want to go to timeout again! (But he will not end his reign of destruction either.)
He finds the three of them odd (octotrio), they seem to care for him. His dad said he cared for him but he just hurt him, not physically but he always said mean things and stuff! He doesn’t want that kind of pain again, so he tried to distant himself from everyone. Anyone who showed him kindness is immediately suspicious as anyone who did in the past always hurt him!
Azul, Jade and Floyd weren’t the nicest people but they were…kind… to him. They were growing on him and that scared him, he doesn’t want to rely on anyone!
”Heyyy Little Eel~~ are you here?” Floyd’s voice drawled, oh no he found him! Soon he saw his head and then his torso.
“There you are! What are you doing up here?” Floyd said, rather cheerily. He had a smile on his face whilst waving at the child.
”None of your business!” The kid snapped, he was a bit upset about his hideout being found. Floyd didn’t pay his tone any mind and just looked around.
”Oh nice place you’ve got here Little Eel!”
Floyd calls him little eel as he is one of them now so it only makes sense he’s an eel as well!
Azul disagrees
The child huffed and grumbled.
”Thanks…”
Floyd’s smile widened and he scooped the kid up into his arms.
”I’ve got to take ya back now Little Eel but don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone about this place!” The kid wasn’t sure if he could believe that.
”Oh great seven! Where were you?! I was so worried!” Azul was currently acting like a mother hen, completely out of character but he was so fucking worried! This time the kid escaped to another dorm, Heartslabyul to be precise. He had a new toy (courtesy of Jade) and wanted to test it out, on some students. It was like a rocket launcher but instead of rockets, it shoots mushrooms. What you think Jade was responsible? Hell no! He wanted to have some fun as well!
”He was in Goldfishie’s dorm!” Floyd piped up helpfully.
”IN HEARTSLABYUL-“ He took a massive fucking breath to calm his raging nerves.
”Now what were you doing there?” Azul asked calmly.
”I was shooting some wannabe mages with my Shroom Launcher!” He said rather proudly. Azul’s eye twitched as he gave a pointed look towards Jade who only smiled. Fucker.
”You can’t quite shoot at the students Little Fry.” He lightly scolded, he wouldn’t dare dwell on the small feeling of pride welling up at the thought he gave Riddle trouble though.
“Bleh.” The child just stuck his tongue out but he seemed to listen. That was progress, Azul thought.
"Oh my, how devious." Jade said with not so hidden amusement, as he watched the young boy scale the wall by the Scarabia mirror. He heard about what that Jamil tried to do to Azul so he's going to prank him, not out of concern about the octomer's well being or anything!
With one last pull, the child hauled himself right over the mirror, ready to attack. Jade just couldn't help his snickering whilst hiding in the shadows, he really does enable this child too much.
When Jamil walked through the mirror he did not expect to be drenched head to toe in azul-blue paint. He was dumbfounded. The child just cackled in delight, giving a shit eating grin when the vice made eye contact with him, a deadpan stare on his face. Eventually Jamil left, in a more sour mood than he'd like to admit.
"Heheh, that was rather amusing Littler Elver. Shall we go gather some mushrooms?" The child turned to him with excitement.
"To fill up the Shroom Launcher?"
"Indeed."
This motherfuker was a terrible influence...
He was alone now... Floyd had fulfilled his promise and not said a word about his base. He strolled to his stash, it consisted of the little trinkets he stole from other students.
List of stolen objects:
a comb
silver fork
hair ties
signed autograph of Neige LeBlanche
10,003 madols
quill
a car engine
shit ton of random scraps of metal
shoe polish
pufferfish poison
Advanced Book of Potions and Poisons by Gothelle
suspiciously glowing flower
a tin of needles and sewing shit
grilled cheese sandwich
Vil's entire collection of skincare products
files on all students on campus
full set of kitchen knives
blackmail on Crowley
Leona's will to live
And much more, people pay quite a bit for his collection. Ramshackle Prefect is broke as fuck BUT they have made a deal so he guesses he doesn't have to worry about that much.
Now he is getting ready for another "hunt" we'll call it, he has located his new victim. The guy with horns looks promising but Comrade Yuu advised against stealing the Tamagotchi from him. Instead the child redirected his attention to the obnoxious green haired male. Oh yeah this will be easy. Comrade Ruggie mentioned about needing some food and Comrade Yuu needs money to pay of student debts as well as live in the world they were thrown into, so with his target selected, the child waited for the time to pounce.
I think this is my Frist ever ask I am asking you I am really excited
Can I request a yandere playtonic Macaqa Monkey King Nezha and pigsy x toddler female daughter reader
Like the reader is there daughter from a one night stand and The find out about them on accident. And they see the reader is a runt to
But a really sweet bean and Carry her stuff dog with her and is waiting for her mama. Even though her mother treats her bad the reader still loves her mama cuz she don't know her daddy. but when the fathers find out about her they take her away and give her a better life.
I hope you have a great day
Everyone, move aside. Time for some true fluff content.
Support me here
The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 20.
Wukong
He finds out about her after visiting MK and sees the woman again holding the hand of her young daughter.
He puts the pieces together quickly and is not pleased to say the least.
He doesn't want to reveal what he knows yet and just watches over his daughter. He may not like the idea of you but you are still his daughter.
He watches you as a bug most of the time, and his heart slowly warms up when he sees how sweet you are.
His heart aches when he sees you being left home alone, sitting close to the front door holding your puppy plush waiting for your mother. Who doesn't even love you.
It was when you are around 5 years old when he decides to step in after you answered the door and had an interaction with someone who would've harmed you if your neighbour wasn't leaving her apartment at that same moment.
He makes it known to your mother he knows, he angry with how shes raised you, and will be taking you himself.
Your mother acts mad but is happy she doesn't have to care for you anymore.
So Wukong takes you to his cave and takes care of you from that point on.
He didn't realise how much he wanted to be a father until that moment.
Macaque
Macaque and your mother met via one of his classes. One night stand and he never sees her again.
Well until she walks into his place 2 years later holding you in his arms.
Your mutant ears clearly indicate you're his.
She hands you over that second and tells him she doesn't want to raise his mutant offspring.
Macaque isn't happy that 1, a child is being dropped on him and 2, you are being referred to as a mutant.
He's a reluctant parent at first and gets rather annoyed at you at times.
But he learns to love you.
When your 4, he's surprised you still wait at the door with your puppy plush in your arms waiting for your mother.
You don't remember her, but you know the plush is the only thing in the home that she gave you and it's now a habit of yours to wait by the door for her.
Even if it looks like Macaque doesn't love you, he gets you everything you ask and is willing to kill for you if anyone even lays a finger on your pretty little head.
Nezha
Is pissed as all hell when they learn they got a mere mortal pregnant.
Nezha is probably the only one who knows off the bat, keeping an eye one the woman during the whole pregnancy.
Nezha doesn't want a daughter, but you are still theirs and therefore, they have to look out for you.
Then Nezha forgets for a few years.
When Nezha decided to remember and looks back over to see you waiting by the door late at night, waiting for your mother to return from a late night out.
They're pissed.
Nezha visits you when your mother is home and by the age of 7, you've learned Nezha is your father.
Nezha offers to take you to their home and you agree, happily.
Nezha doesn't inform your mother, just takes you while you were out partying.
You don't have to know your mother ends up being arrested for child neglect and the police believe she killed you. All you have to know is that Daddy came and took you to a beautiful lotus palace were you'll be raised for the rest of your life.
Pigsy
Pigsy is the only one who learns when you are around 10 years old.
Your mother just happened to walk into his noodle shop, holding your hand. You were still in school uniform, your mother just wanted to pick up some easy dinner.
Pigsy acts kindly to you, but he connects the dots on who your father is(it's him).
So when your mother wants a break from you, she drops you off at Pigsy's.
Tang and MK grow to love you, but Pigsy feels annoyed he has to be around you now.
It's only you who come to him unpromoted and give him something you have made.
He's prepared for it to taste gross but is surprised it tastes good.
Tang says "It must run in the family." and that's how you learn Pigsy is your father.
Like Macaque, Pigsy just acts as if he doesn't love you but soon enough he does. He seems how much you just want to be love and he can't deny how that makes him feel.
Soon enough, Pigsy gets full custody of you. Now you have two days, an older brother, and a free baby sister(Sandy or Mei considering the time of day).
Well fnaf: security breach, that just dragged me by the feet back to my old fnaf phase-
So here you go, a random idea of a reader/darling from FNAF: security breach.
To the ones who havent seen or played Security breach, there will be slight spoilers on the true ending so please play the game or watch someone play it before reading. You've been warned!
So how this au works is this is going to be based on "Street kid Gregory".
Both you and Gregory grew up homeless and used the pizzaplex as a shelter until you two got stuck inside and the regular thing continues with you stealing a line here and there or guiding Gregory.
This will be based on the true ending with some changes such as repairing everyone after freeing Vanessa, this is also based on some of the stories where Gregory stays with the glamrock animatronics. By the time that happens you have already started playing genshin impact.
In the acolytes view, whoever you control (aka, whoever is in your team) can see a faint silhouette of you with them. Their God walking amongst them.
But theres someone else. Someone controlling other people
Soon, Albedo and Lisa find a way to hack your camera to view what you do and who the heck that other person is as they can slightly hear you and that person laugh or have some muffled conversation (aka, you and Gregory laughing your butts off at so many things like glitches or watching Pallad suffer)
Then they see someone else. Someone with brown hair and a blue shirt.
"Gregory i swear if you push me off with Jean one more time i will not help you with Azdaha."
"ok ok i wont."
On Jean's side, she again, pushes off one of their Divine one's vessels. And hears:
"GOD DANG IT GREGORY IM GOING TO KILL YOU."
"WAIT WAIT IM SORRY"
Then hears laughing. Huh, she really wonders who that "Gregory" is.
-----(Ok quick thing this will be reverse isekai)
"Ah, Gregory, [name]! Theres some people near your room. Do you perhaps know them from your school? Are they your teachers?" You hear Freddy on both of your Fazwatches. Wait who was at the door?! Did Freddy forget your homeschooled?1
You see, the acolytes found a way to your world and sent people (specifically, you and Gregory's teams) to explore it. You and Gregory, being kids with now a slight fear of pounding doors because of roxy and monty (they're still kind of guilty), jump when you hear the door pound.
"Your Grace! Are you there?!"
Who tf--
When you open the door your acolytes are shocked to say the least. Their God. was a KID.
So again, they're shocked, once telling them "...I was always a kid wdym" They think it made some sense. I mean, both you and gregory were bullying each other in game using Jean, who is still confused.
