thinking....thinking….platonic-yan!farmer who found you injured on his land...️🙂↕️🙂↕️
CW: loss of a loved one, grief, depressive thoughts, injuries (not very explicit), possibly inaccurate depictions of farm life, rodeo cowboys and the adoption system, reader is implied to be smaller than ennis and to have hair (sorry bald people 💔)
ennis has always wanted children. after inheriting the family farm and marrying his husband, kenneth, he couldn’t wait to start their family.
during long days out working on the farm, he would daydream about how the days he’d spend with his child would go. from domestic things like waking up in the morning to them helping kenneth out with breakfast and eating a hearty dinner together after a long day, to farm work like harvesting husks of corn or dumping feed into the troughs.
when both him and his husband were free, they’d spend hours browsing through the children’s section in furniture and fashion catalogues, reading up on books about parenting, and preparing their spare bedroom for their future child together. once both of them were sure that they had all the necessary things needed to raise a child, they filled sent out the paperwork that’ll make them eligible to adopt a child.
things were looking great for them. the autumn harvest was bountiful, and with winter approaching farm duties were more relaxed, giving them more time to spend with each other. while they lounged in the living room together, they eagerly awaited that phone call that’ll make them parents. ennis was elated, his life long dream of having a family was so close to coming true!
unfortunately, this happiness did not last long.
on the eve of that winter, kenneth had gotten into a freak accident at the last rodeo show of the season that claimed his life. that day, ennis’s whole world came crashing down.
all the applications and reading through parenting books meant nothing. his dreams of starting a family are now never coming true.
the days following the accident, the farm began to deteriorate. ennis had become a hollow shell of the person he was before. he could not pull himself together enough to even get out of his bed, let alone to tend to the farm. everything reminded him of his husband, what he lost.
some days he would wake up feeling completely fine, maybe even pulling himself together enough to go outside to make sure the livestock were ok. he would walk back into the house, smiling to himself picturing kenneth making breakfast for the two of them before he headed off to work. when he was hit with reality, he broke down. curling into himself on the kitchen floor as full body sobs racked his body, spiraling even further into grief.
on one particularly cold day, he decided to get up and take a walk around the farm. he realized that being in their once shared bedroom would do him no good, since staying in there just prevented him from processing his death.
that day was the day he met you.
he had found you laying in a ditch near his farm, soaked to the bone, bleeding profusely from a large wound that looked like they had been caused by a large animal. ennis was instantly horrified, he couldn’t believe how someone would just leave a poor innocent and defenseless child like you alone in the dead of winter?! let alone unconscious and bleeding out!
he gently lifted you up into his arms, trying not to disturb your wound carrying you inside. you were ice cold to the touch and he could feel how you trembled like a leaf in winter. oh you poor little thing…
once inside, he carefully set you down on the couch, striping you of your wet clothes then gingerly bandaging up your wound. he then went into the depths of his closet to retrieve some dry clothes that would fit you and some thick blankets to warm you up.
when he walked back into the living room and saw you laying on the couch so peacefully, he couldn’t help but coo at how cute you looked.
you looked so small and so very vulnerable…who knows what could happen to you if he didn’t find you? you could’ve contracted hypothermia, became comatose, and wolves are extremely active around this area especially when night falls, he had already lost a few sheep to them oh gods, what if they found you again and-
no…he didn't even want to think about it…he’s already lost enough in the past weeks. he can’t take the possibility of his child dying.
Huh…
his child?....
ennis thought that he had lost the chance of becoming a father forever. adoption agencies would instantly reject him as a candidate because of how poor his mental state is due to being recently widowed. he could barely get out of the bed some days. there was nothing to live for anymore.
but…he has you now.
you are his salvation.
you are a chance for him to start over, to take his life back after his husband died. by raising you, he could honour his husband. although it may be unorthodox considering how you may already have a family and waking up in an unfamiliar house may be quite jarring, he won’t let you go, not after what happened to his husband.
tenderly bundling your cold body with the blankets, he softly wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you close to his chest. he kissed your hair, rocking you back and forth as tears threatened to slip from his eyes.
his dream had finally came true and he couldn’t wait for you to wake up.
A/N: btw i did not attend for this piece to be this long i just went with the wind and this is where it lead me to..anyways i hope you guys enjoyed tis even if its obvious that i made shit up as i went...😖😖 the ending is kinda rushed because i was getting too repetitive but lmk fellas... feel free to leave asks and requests cuz i need ideas... ANYWYAS as always criticism is welcome and appreciated as long as youre nice!! :3
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was a commission, but after this I plan to write Falkor (alien dad). Until then, I hope you enjoy this!!
Sneaking into the first house you saw was fairly easy, given how small you are. All it took was climbing through a window of one of the giants, barely cracked open, but enough for you to squeeze through with no issue.
Your plan was simple: gather all the gold and jewels you can manage, get back out without being seen, and climb back down the beanstalk, which was how you got here in the first place.
Part of you feels like how a mouse would feel in your home, scurrying around and trying not to be seen.
Even size-wise, you feel like a mouse right now.
You start taking coins from the tables, which have been haphazardly stacked and not really organized. You spot a large golden harp that you don't have any real use for, nor would it even fit into your pockets.
Oh, how rich you'd be soon.
You're pretty sure even just two of these huge golden coins will have you set for life after this, but you can't stop yourself from trying to get as much as you can physically manage.
The only thing that matters now is getting the money so you don't have to worry about anything.
Your hunger, your debts... The problems will be over, as long as you don't screw this up and are careful. That's what you keep telling yourself.
You carefully tip-toe across the floors as you explore the house to find as many sources of loot as you possibly can.
It seems to take forever, seeing how giant everything is compared to your small size.
In the middle of grabbing what you can find, you hear a sniffle.
Apparently someone is home? They sound sad.
You follow the noises as quietly as possible, just to see what's going on. You come face to face with a giant sitting on his own bed, head buried in his hands. He's rather pale, with long well-kept light brown hair, blue eyes, and dressed in what you assume is a culturally accurate garb for giants; simple but elegant clothing.
No, don't feel sympathy for him, you remind yourself. Just get what you came here for, and get out.
And so, you quietly rush back to work, gathering all you can carry. Its a little loud, but you're sure the giant won't be able to hear you over his own sorrow, for what ever reason that is.
Just as you go back to the table with more loot, you suddenly hear footsteps.
You gasp, scrambling for a place to hide.
There!
You hide behind a huge glass pitcher of what you're sure is lemonade or some sort of sugary drink for giants.
Its too late when you realize you didn't even put the gold back like you found it. The giant looks over to the table, eyeing it suspiciously. Your stomach is doing flips.
"I'm losing my mind," he laughs to himself, but it doesn't seem very humorous. More like its bordering on hysteria. He then goes over to the glass pitcher you're hiding behind, lifting it up with a cup prepared in his hand.
You're frozen in shock.
The giant stares at you with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He nearly drops the pitcher as he lowers it onto the table carefully. His mouth forms an 'o' shape.
"A human!" he gasps. His voice is soft, which seems so unfitting for his large size. Just as he reaches forward to grab you, you manage to react quick enough to run away and try to find somewhere else to hide. "Wait!" the giant shouts, panicked, "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you!"
You look for an exit. The window!
Before you can reach the window to climb back down the beanstalk, the giant grabs you. Its gentle, thankfully, but you still scream.
He's not necessarily large enough to comfortably hold you in his hand without using both, but can still grab you just fine with one hand. He brings you to his face, getting a better look at you. You try kicking him, and it seems to startle him, but not really anger him. He just seems... worried, almost?
"You poor thing!" he cries, sounding like he's genuinely scared. Scared? Really? "You must have been lost from your parents! Oh, you poor baby..."
Huh? You blink, confused. Baby? Parents? It dawns on you, that he thinks you're a kid. You suppose that makes sense, you are almost about the size to him that a human baby would be to a fully grown adult, if not just a tiny bit smaller.
Yet if he knows you're a human, shouldn't he also know this is a perfectly normal size?
Maybe he hasn't seen humans very much, which wouldn't be surprising. Humans did a good job hiding from giants, and you're pretty sure you're the first human to find a way to enter their world by climbing the beanstalk.
Well, at least it should make things a little easier.
"Um..." you start, nervously looking away. Should you correct him? Probably not. It's probably best to let him keep thinking you're a child so that maybe you won't have to face his wrath for trying to rob him. "I got lost! Yeah."
The giant coos, adjusting his hold so you're sitting much more comfortably in both of his large palms. He's not as large as the other giants you've heard can be, and if he were just slightly smaller then he might not be able to hold you like this, but it works. He's large enough to do so, just barely.
"It's okay, honey," he speaks softly, "what's your name?"
"(Y/n)," you answer. "What... what's your name?"
"My name is Wolfe." Wolfe gives you a small, sweet smile. He doesn't look nearly as sad anymore. In fact, he appears to be very happy now. But why?
A part of you wants to ask him why he was crying earlier, and yet the thought also scares you.
Its not worth asking him that. Not now, at least.
"Can you tell me what happened?" he asks again, voice laced with worry. "How on earth did you get here, baby?"
You're not sure if its a wise idea to tell him the truth. "I'm not really sure... Everything is a blur, I just don't really remember much."
He's either gullible or not letting on more than he's thinking, because he sighs heavily in relief and gently kisses your forehead. It's still awkward given how much smaller you are than him. If you were to give a best estimate, you'd say he's about three or four times taller than you.
Which is still a lot... but you suppose it could be worse. You heard some giants are much, much larger.
"It must have been so scary for you," he says sympathetically. He adjusts his hold so you're cradled in his arms like an actual baby. Compared to him, your height is kind of like a baby.
Your face feels like its burning with embarrassment, and you squirm in his hold uncomfortably.
"I-I'm okay, though," you defend weakly, "really."
Wolfe hums in acknowledgement, but it feels very patronizing. He does not seem to believe you one bit. Though, he seems more worried than skeptical.
You feel tired from walking around the massive house, searching everywhere for gold and jewels. There aren't many options right now, and Wolfe is very gentle with you, so you suppose to take your chances slipping away when he doesn't have his attention on you.
Apparently, that'd be harder than you thought.
Not once does he take his eyes off you.
He basically swaddles you in the smallest blanket he has (which is still very large), and holds you against his hip as he makes food, humming to himself all the while. Occasionally, he glances down at you fondly. You have no choice but to stare up at him, too scared to close your eyes.
This doesn't feel right, at all. Is he always going to act like this? Is there no way out of it?
No, you'll just wait until nighttime. Even though you don't know anything about giants, you can assume they need sleep like everyone else.
"I should get you some more clothes soon," he murmurs to himself, yet addressing you. "Maybe I should take up sewing again. Oh, and I'll make you a darling little room right next to mine! Yes, you'll love it! With toys, a bed..." He nods to himself.
You laugh nervously. "What about my, uh, real parents? I'm sure they're worried about me."
Wolfe tilts his head. "Oh, no, silly. Why would you want to go back to them? If you managed to get lost and ended up all the way here, surely they must not care about you all that much. I'd never let something like that happen to you. And I won't."
He shakes his head, as if to rid himself of the terrible idea of sending you home. You shudder at how easily and quickly he dismissed you.
You mull over your next words for a moment, just wanting to change the subject. "Why were you crying earlier?"
The way Wolfe flinches makes you regret ever opening your mouth. Your stomach fills with dread as you realize just how insensitive that sounded.
You immediately backtrack and try apologizing, only to be shushed gently. Wolfe presses a kiss to your forehead again, smiling, though you notice the way his eyes become distant for a split moment. He looks a lot sadder now.
"It's nothing to worry about, sweetheart. No need to think about adults' problems," he reassures.
For what ever reason, this rubs you the wrong way, like someone had stabbed at your pride. If he fully knows you're a human, you wonder what he thinks an adult human is supposed to look like. Then again, maybe he really just knows nothing about humans other than the bare minimum.
If anything, you hope it means he's more easy to escape.
For the rest of the time he's cooking, he goes on rambles about how much he already adores you, how long he's always wanted kids, and all the plans for the future with you. It makes you nervous, but you know that it'll be useless to argue back.
Your meal is way too big for you, but thankfully he cuts it up into a tinier portion that would suit a normal meal for you.
At realizing the table is too high up for you, he clicks his tongue and sits you on his lap instead, feeding you with a spoon. The entire thing is beyond humiliating, especially when he starts doing things like wiping your face after every bite like a helicopter parent or reminding you to slow down while eating.
But, at the very least, the food is amazing. Maybe even better than any meals you've had back home.
With the events of today catching up to you, you lean against him tiredly when finishing dinner, resisting the urge to sleep. You need to stay awake so you can slip away at night.
He chuckles in adoration. "So sleepy. We'll work on your room tomorrow, okay? Until then, you can sleep in Papa's bed."
"Papa?" you repeat, unimpressed.
"Yes! Good job!" Wolfe coos, sounding like he might cry again.
He puts away the dishes after washing them off, putting you down onto the counter while doing so.
You try hopping off the edge and running, but he catches you again just before you land safely onto the floor.
"No!" Wolfe cries desperately, looking absolutely horrified. "Don't jump like that, sweetheart! You could have seriously hurt yourself!"
That attempt of escape didn't work out, sadly. You can only hope he's a heavy sleeper so you can sneak away tonight.
And, once again, you're being cradled against his chest.
"It's a miracle you survived this long without me," he tuts, though he doesn't seem upset anymore. "If you want to play hide-and-seek, we'll have all day tomorrow, okay, baby? For now, its bedtime."
You know you're not getting out of it, so you just nod.
Once you arrive in Wolfe's bedroom, he settles you down onto a pillow carefully. He excuses himself very briefly to change into some night clothes. The only reason you don't run away is because you've come to terms it won't work. Once he comes back, he swaddles you back in blankets and then brings you to his chest once again.
He pets your head soothingly as your head is practically pressed into his shoulder. You watch him grab something; it looks like a children's book.
"I've always collected little things like these," Wolfe mumbles, "because I wanted to have children someday. And now I finally have the cutest little one!" He peppers kisses on top of your head. "Are you ready for a story?"
No, you're not. Not at all. You sigh, agreeing halfheartedly.
Its a very generic story of a prince saving a princess, defeating a dragon. That sort of thing. Maybe it really is doing its job, because you feel exhausted just listening to the boring story. You're afraid if you pretend to fall asleep, you'll end up falling asleep for real.
Only when its the last page of the story, do you pretend to doze off. It works, and Wolfe looks satisfied. He closes the book shut, setting it aside onto a nightstand.
"I can't believe my wishes are coming true," he whispers to himself, as you've noticed he frequently does.
Once you can hear his soft snores, and you feel his grip loosen up on you.
You don't get hopeful yet, though. The blanket is still tight around you, so you have to wiggle yourself around until you get free. Its hard, and you almost knock some things over during your struggle. Luckily, it doesn't disturb Wolfe too much. He only stirs slightly, but never fully awakens.
Finally, you crawl away from the bedside and begin the trek down the halls.
It's nearly pitch black, so you have to feel your way around. It seems like it takes hours, but you manage to make progress until finding a window, just a tiny bit of light spilling out of it from the moon.
Carefully, you slip your way outside through the open window.
You hesitate, wondering if you should grab what you originally came here for, but decide against it. You just want out of here.
The drop isn't so bad, and you nearly sprint to where you remember the beanstalk being, the way you got here to begin with.
After lots of searching, and running out of breath several times along the way, you find no sign of the stalk.
Realization dawns upon you like getting doused with ice cold water. Someone must've cut it down after you got here.
You hang onto desperation and hope, wondering if perhaps you didn't check well enough. Yet despite all your efforts, you find nothing. You have no choice but to accept that fact. Someone found it and removed it. What are you going to do now? Surely there's another way back down, right?
"Baby?" a panicked voice shouts.
You freeze up, blood running cold. Of course he's figured out you're gone by now.
"Baby!" Wolfe calls again. His voice sounds broken, hysterical.
Before you can even process anything, Wolfe's figure approaches. He looks beside himself, frantic, eyes filled with tears and cheeks already tear stained. He collapses onto his knees as he comes up to you.
You consider running, but you know outrunning him is impossible. Instead, you just wait in fearful anticipation.
"Why would you run away like that?" Wolfe whispers in disbelief, as if he can't process it. "Why would you scare me like that?" He doesn't seem like he expects you to answer, just scooping you in his arms and taking long strides back home.
He's holding you tight, like he's terrified you might somehow slip away. He's shaking, and you're pretty sure you are too.
The rest of the way is silent as Wolfe cradles you securely.
He's already back inside the house when he breaks the silence.
"That was very dangerous. You are so, so lucky another giant didn't see you," he rasps. "If they did..." He shudders. "What were you even thinking?" His voice isn't raised, it never had been, but you can tell he definitely isn't pleased with you. He wipes at his eyes as he carries you back into his room. "You really scared me, (Y/n)," he breathes, "you can't do things like that."
"Sorry," you reply lamely, guilt starting to settle in your gut. "Please don't be mad at me." You wince when you feel his large thumb wipe away some stray tears that had fallen from your own eyes.
"Oh, no, I'm not mad!" he cries sympathetically. "I'm worried about you. Please understand that." He gives a shaky sigh. "I was just scared. I've been alone for so long, I..." he trails off. "You shouldn't have to hear that, I'm sorry, sweetheart."
You don't ask questions, nor do you respond.
He kisses you on the forehead again as he starts redressing you in the huge blankets. "Please stay safe in Papa's arms tonight. Promise me..."
Oddly enough, you feel bad enough for him to nod. "Okay. I promise." It's not like you have any other option.
Can I order parental yandere handacons from you with characters from Detroit?
Thanks for reading
I'll wait for an answer)
So sorry for the very, very long wait! I don’t know about Detroit Become Human at all, but I did some research on Connor and Hank and I decided to write a little bit for them. I’m not sure how I did on the characterizations, so… oops. I just made everything up lol. Also, I know you said headcannons, but I can only write headcannons for characters I know more about, so I just wrote a small story excerpt.
...
You were a criminal. Notorious under your pen name, you hacked into systems and were leading a revolution. This dystopia could be no longer.
You read in history books how mundane the old world was. You missed that. No androids, no pollution, less corruption… humans needed to fight for the future they wanted, and you were going to be the first one fighting.
After being caught trying to shut an Android facility down, Hank Anderson, a detective, caught you.
You spit in his face, thrashing as he placed you in handcuffs.
You’re not surprised to see an android by his side, readily helping him.
“Stay still,” the android instructs, holding your chin as he turned your head to expose your neck. “It’s a good thing we prepared for this.”
You're promptly sedated, falling limp into his arms.
…
When you wake up, you expect to be in a jail cell.
You’re not.
“[Name] is up sir.” the android from before announces from his spot beside you, watching you sleep unblinkingly.
You don’t hesitate to kick him.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he says.
“Physically,” he clarifies. “Though it does hurt me internally.”
You scoff. “Like what? Your circuits are fried?” you huff, annoyed at the whole situation.
“My feelings are wounded.”
You roll your eyes.
“You don’t have feelings. You’re an android. A robot. A clanker!” you insult.
“Now, now, no need for insults kiddo,” Hank laughs, “Clanker? That word is so old fashioned. I haven’t heard it in ages.”
You brood at being made fun of. “I demand my case be handed over ot a different detective!”
“Sorry sweetheart, but you’re not in custody,” Hank smirks. “You’re so young. Just weren’t raised right.”
“First of all, I’m old enough to know what’s wrong and right, and whether or not I was raised right or not has nothing to do with how I am or what I’m doing now!”
You’re getting frustrated.
You grew up on the streets, fighting and punching whoever got in your way. You didn’t need anyone growing up and you didn’t need this stupid detective and his annoying clanker friend getting all up on your business now.
“Denial is always the first stage,” Connor informs easily.
You kick him again, his metal leg hurting you much more than you hurt him.
“If I’m not in custody, then let me go,” you mutter, already standing up from the couch you were on.
Connor doesn’t hesitate to push you back down.
“Let you go?” Hank scoffs. “You can barely take care of yourself kid. If it weren’t us who caught you then you’d be holed up in prison forever.”
“Yeah that’s exactly what I expected so if you’re not gonna do that then let me go!”
“God you’re so stubborn,” Hank groans. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what? That you’re both illegally holding me against my will?” you quirk a brow.
“That you don’t have a choice in this situation.” Conner is happy to answer.
“What situation?!” you can’t help but groan, patience running thin. “You need me to play hostage or something?”
“No, we need you to relax,” Hank snaps back at you. “Just stop kid. Give it a rest. No more life of crime for you.”
You’re so confused.
“You’re not my dad, and you cannot control my life!” you frown. “I don’t even know you both!”
“Look, you’ll get to know us over time,” Hank sighs.
“You don’t even know me!” you point out.
“Of course we do,” Connor replies. “We’ve been tracking you for a year now. You’re [Name] [L/N], [number] years old, blood type [blank], born in [blank]. You’re stubborn, independent, rude, bold-”
Hank cuts him off. “Basically, you’re a brat. But we know virtually everything about you kid.”
You’re a bit freaked out now. You never put anything online. As a hacker yourself, you were hyper aware of your digital footprint, which was close to none.
“So you’ve been stalking for me a year?” you accuse them, getting worked up as you stood again, putting your fists up.
“Less stalking and more protecting,” Hank clarifies.
“We won’t hurt you [Name]...” Conner informs you.
He’s a total hypocrite because Hank is throwing a swift blow to your neck, effectively rendering you unconscious yet again.
Just who were these people and what did they want with you?!
Synopsis : yandad Knuckles having some binding time with his puggle (young echidna), which involves boxing lessons.
Tw : emotional manipulation, overprotective, other characters are villainized. 🤢Icky do not eat!!🤢
Genre : Fluff / Platonic / Yandere
His rough, gloved hands tangle around with the spines on your head, twisted relatively gently, in a messy lop of quills all outward. Your tomato red quills spiral softly, once he was done, that is.
"Ready?"
"Do I have to learn boxing dad?" The puggle quipped, not meaning to come out snippy. Knuckles' brow scorned, at this—his maw tightening slightly. Too badly his young one noticed. "You will learn boxing, to solely protect yourself—why—are you gonna cling to me like a damned leech forever?" His hands cuffed 'round the younglings' shoulders, if his claws would've been out of the containment of those gloves; there would've been blood already.
"Don't tell me you want that hedgehog to parent you instead—as I'm apparently too rough and vicious for you." He falsely sulked, your face dropped, the tan of your muzzle almost whitening. A gruelling smirk almost tugged at his lip, knowing he had his youngster wrapped around his finger. "I'm only like this, not that I ever AM, because I care for you. Don't be all ungrateful now."
"Sorry. Dad."
"That's better. Master Emerald, you're so damn clingy." Always gotta have your dad breathing down your shoulder. Else he'd lose his mind; by not being able to protect his precious. He always had you plummet the punching bag first, unleash he felt like unnerving you—by going gruesomely vicious at the sand filled bag. It's cover would writhe from every blow he threw at it. "See. Look at this, not even swinging that hard." He gallantly throttled. Mockery swimming outward. "Let me show you." He wailed his fists into the bag, the springs squealed violently.
Oh yeah—now the bag was on the floor due to a gnarly blow as a finale.
"Hit harder wontcha kid..?" He slurred, as your smaller paws patched him up from a grotesque fight with Shadow. A yelling match. Involving you. "Yeah yeah, daddy dearest."
Can you write something about platonic yandere with Dilyuk or Almond Cookie?
Yandere Father Almond Cookie
You aren’t happy here. He knows it. You can try to hide it if you’d like, but your father knows you all too well. And there’s no hiding the truth from him.
Nothing has ever been able to hide from him. He unravels secrets and mysteries for a living, snuffing out the truth wherever it hides, no matter how deep it’s been buried. He pulls those truths from the mouths of liars, from the evidence on scene, from his own sharpened intuition.
And your unhappiness is the clearest thing he’s ever seen. The lack of focus in your eyes, your uncoordinated footsteps, the way you’ve been scraping at the dough on your hands while you’re lost in thought.
You’ve been daydreaming again. You always daydream when you start feeling lonely. It seems to be much of what you do these days.
“It isn’t safe enough for you to leave the house. Not yet.”
He never does specify when ‘yet’ is. You don’t think he ever will. Some cynical part of yourself wonders if that far off ‘yet’ will ever come.
It had been one single accident that had landed you on house arrest, through no fault of your own. But it hasn’t mattered whether you had been at fault, not to your father. All that had mattered was that a stray blast of magic; from a mage practicing unlawfully and recklessly, had hit you head on, nearly entirely crumbling the dough of your right arm. You had fallen backwards and hit the ground, jam oozing from the wounds.
Your father had been first on the scene, as usual. A long life of both solving and resolving incidents had left him weary and prepared for most of what the world had to offer him.
Ready for anything but one of his two children lying flat on the ground, dough crumbled and oozing, crying weakly in a curled up ball.
And now, he spends every waking moment acting like it happened just yesterday. Your arm is long healed, tiny white lines across your arm being the only sign of any wound or injury, your jam levels steady and healthy.
Still, he can’t get the image out of his head.
Crying. Bleeding. Broken.
So you have to stay inside, for your own good. If something has happened once, it can happen again. Even though he’s seen to the imprisonment of that careless Cookie that dared harm you, the thought that you might get hurt again sends chills down his dough. You got lucky once. There’s no way to ensure that you’ll get lucky again.
Almond Cookie doesn’t live his life recklessly, and neither will you. No leaving it up to luck, no letting the cards fall where they may, no risking it all on a gamble.
Instead, he’ll keep you locked safely inside, getting to freely roam the house with only Constable Whiskers for company. And though the little black cat does an admirable job of combating your loneliness, he just isn’t a replacement for other Cookies.
Thankfully, this isolation won’t be permanent. His intention truly isn’t to leave you locked up forever, to tend to you until his dough wears out. He will genuinely allow you to leave when he thinks that the world has grow safe enough to accommodate you.
Hello!! It's cool seeing another blog do yandere!moon system lol
Ok so this is just a suggestion, a headcanon on how the yandad!moon system would be as parents. Like who is more nurturing, who is more strict, etc. I totally think all of them would be overprotective tho :)
Let's see… The Lunar System being parents.
Honey, this is really going to be too much fun, at least Jake's part.
I feel like Steven is the most excited about his baby's interests. He's the kind of over-enthusiastic father who ALWAYS supports all of his children's academic interests.
He loves to spoil his baby, he wants his baby to always feel loved and protected ina more phisical way. So he doesn't hesitate to spoil and shower his baby with adorable gifts when he notices that they are of things they likes and can enjoy.
Example: Did he remember on the street that his baby loves animal films and animal documentaries? Well, now his baby has a vast collection of stuffed animals, basically just get them plushies exact replicas of their favourite animals so his baby can learn more from it.
He seeks to always give him his favourite foods, in a healthy way, and would never raise his voice at them… not unless the situation got completely out of control and he panicked and sought to get his baby's attention. He could never punish his child, though. He can't, their baby's Bambi eyes prevent him from doing so. That's Jake's job.
Basically it's "Papa Steven", the pamperer and nurturer.
Marc… well, it's very Marc?
I'll be honest, he's the type who doesn't want to show negative emotions in front of his offspring. Wendy's behaviour has scarred him emotionally for life and he wants to avoid that altogether. Obviously, since Marc is a bit emotionally extreme and thinks he doesn't deserve love and that, he would be on edge with his baby.
He would be very slow about the way he behaves with his baby, at least initially. Therefore, he sees what kind of actions are right and wrong. Relatively, when he gets the confidence and that, Marc becomes the paranoid father who doesn't want to leave his baby alone. He doesn't want his baby to feel unloved, but he also doesn't want his child to feel overwhelmed by his presence.
So he always tries to listen to his baby, so that he always knows what he is thinking and can help him to be happy. And if that happens while they watch movies and eat biscuits, behind Steven's back, that's what should happen.
Always by his side, hypervigilant of any negative emotions his offspring might express. He HATES to see his baby being sad, and only calms down when he understands what is causing his offspring's discomfort. Basically goes between worried emotional wart and happy emotional wart.
He is "Dada Marc", the worrywart.
Although, quite understandably, Marc can't discipline his child. He can't and won't, but he knows that his baby must be disciplined at times… so he leaves it to Jake.
Now, Jake. For all his brash, fear-aggressive behaviour, and unfriendly looks, Jake is the most relaxed parenting.
I don't know if it's Jake's Latino nature (I'm a Latina, and at least I can tell from what I've experienced with my father) or the type of environment that surrounds him, but he loves to get into mischief with his baby and have fun with his offspring.
Jake is the kind of dad who will grab a beer, and when his kid asks him what the beer tastes like, he'll give them a taste… and then scoff when his baby grimaces. Obviously, he'd make sure his baby is never near a beer again, but he wouldn't make the same fuss as Steven or Marc would do in the same situation.
He always plays pranks on them and likes to use his strength to play with his offspring. He LOVES to watch his baby laugh with him and have fun with whatever silly things the two of them come up with. Obviously, since he is stronger, he would use such innocent games to show his dominance and strength, but never as a direct message of threat. Only as a warning.
But, since he's the only one with more "backbone" than the other two, as much as he enjoys being "Fun Daddy Jake", he's also the only one who knows how to punish his offspring when they misbehave. Nothing physical, for obvious reasons, but ultimately his kid won't be having fun for a couple of weeks.
Yes, even if he thought it was fun to see the whole flat full of sandcastles and Gus in a sailor suit… he still knew that his son was wrong to do that, and so he left his baby without ice cream for a week.
