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lvnleah · 25 days

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Auntie Duties | Lotte Wubben-Moy

Summary: you and Lotte look after your nephew and niece for the evening.

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Being an auntie was the proudest thing you’d ever done. You loved your four-year-old nephew and ten-month-old niece, Noah and Evie, so when your sister asked if you could look after them for the weekend, you immediately said yes.

You’d recently moved in with your girlfriend, Lotte, after being together for a year so it was the first time that you were looking after them together. Your sister had dropped Evie off around lunchtime and you and Lotte were going to pick Noah up from school.

It was October, the air was cold and crisp so Evie was bundled up in a one piece coat as she rested on Lotte’s hip. She played with Lotte’s hair, her tiny hands pulling it apart, you could tell it was painful but Lotte wasn’t saying a word.

“You’re such a gorgeous girl!” Lotte cooed, bouncing Evie up and down as you pushed the stroller.

Evie let out a contagious laugh before babbling away in Lotte’s arms, Lotte went along and acted like she knew what Evie was saying. Noah’s school wasn’t far from your house so you and Lotte agreed to take the short stroll.

As you reached the school gates, children spilled out, their laughter echoing. Noah emerged, his backpack bouncing on his shoulders as he ran toward you both. His blonde hair stuck out in all directions, and his eyes widened when he spotted you and Lotte waiting for him.

“Auntie Lotts!” he shouted, running towards you. Lotte handed Evie to before she knelt down to greet him, his laughter filling the air as Lotte picked him up and threw him in the air.

“Hi little man!” Lotte smiled, tickling the blonde boy's stomach, “How was your day?”

“It was so good!” Noah grinned, “I got to learn all about dinosaurs, I played with my friends and I had chicken nuggets for lunch!”

You gasped, matching Noah’s enthusiasm, “Oh my god, bud! That sounds amazing! Me and Auntie Lotts were wondering, do you want to go to the park with us and Eve’s?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” He said, jumping up and down and Lotte placed him on the floor.

The crisp October air nipped at your cheeks as you walked toward the nearby park, Noah's hand securely clasped in Lotte’s. Evie, bundled up in her cosy one-piece coat, nestled against your chest.

"Look at you, little adventurer," Lotte murmured to Evie. "Ready for the park, huh?" Evie babbled in response, her eyes wide with curiosity. Lotte pretended to understand every word once again, nodding and making exaggerated expressions.

Noah skipped ahead, his excitement palpable. "Auntie Lotts, can we go on the swings?" he asked, his blue eyes dancing with anticipation.

"Absolutely!" Lotte replied, "Maybe we could play some football afterwards too?"

Noah's face lit up. "Really? I’d love that!"

As you entered the park, Noah raced toward the swings, and Lotte followed. You slowly made your way over with the stroller and Evie, who was peacefully babbling away in your arms.

Lotte pushed Noah on the swing, the wind ruffling his hair. "Higher, Lotts!" he shouted, pumping his legs. You sat on a nearby bench, watching the bond that your girlfriend had created with your nephew. Evie's eyes widened as she watched Noah, and you wondered what thoughts were swirling in her little mind.

Lotte soon walked over to you once Noah had gotten bored of the swings and raced over to the slide, "I think Evie's fascinated by her big brother," she whispered.

You grinned. "She's taking mental notes for when she's old enough to annoy him.”

Noah slid down the slide, his cheeks flushed as he rushed over to you. "Can we go over to the sand pit before playing football?"

"Absolutely," you said, "Let's explore."

Lotte and Noah, Hand in hand, wandered toward the sandbox. Noah knelt down, digging his fingers into the sand. "Look!" he exclaimed, pointing at a shallow indentation. "Dinosaur toes!"

Lotte crouched beside him. "Wow bud!," she said, drawing a wiggly line in the sand. "Maybe a tail here?"

Evie gurgled happily, her tiny fingers reaching for the sand. You lowered her closer, letting her feel the texture. "What do you think, Evie?" you asked. "Dinosaur or dragon?"

She babbled in response, her eyes wide with wonder. As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows, you all sat on the grass. Noah recounted his adventures at school, and you both listened intently, soaking up every word. Lotte leaned against you, her warmth seeping through your jacket.

You watched on as Lotte and Noah passed the ball back and forth, each time Lotte gave him tips on what to do and Noah listened closely.

You and Lotte gathered Noah and Evie, their laughter still echoing in the park. The walk home was filled with chatter, Noah excitedly recounting his day at school once again, telling you small parts that he’d missed out. The air turned colder, and you pulled their coats tighter around them.

Lotte carried Evie on her hip, her cheeks flushed from the brisk walk. Evie's tiny hands tugged at Lotte's hair, and you chuckled. "She's got a strong grip," you said.

Lotte grinned. "She's practising for when she becomes a hair stylist."

Noah skipped ahead, pretending to be a dinosaur. "Roar!" he shouted, stomping his feet. You joined in, your own dinosaur impression earning giggles from both kids.

Back home, the cosy warmth welcomed you. The scent of dinner soon lingered in the air as Lotte began cooking whilst you entertained Noah and Evie. You settled Evie in her high chair, and Lotte began chopping dishing dinner up. Noah sat at the kitchen table, colouring a picture of a dinosaur.

"Can I help?" Noah asked Lotte.

"Absolutely," Lotte said. "You can be my official taste tester."

Evie banged her spoon on the tray, her eyes wide with curiosity. Noah set the table, arranging mismatched plates and cups. Evie's eyes followed his every move, as if memorising the layout for future reference.

"Dinner's ready!" Lotte announced, placing the steaming food down. You all gathered around the table, it was filled with laughter and non stop conversations. You and Lotte told Noah about your days, Lotte shared stories about training.

Lotte and you exchanged knowing glances, this chaotic, messy mealtime was exactly what you'd signed up for.

Afterwards, it was bath time. Noah splashed in the tub, pretending he was a deep-sea explorer. Evie sat in her baby tub, her eyes wide as she watched her big brother. Lotte sang silly songs, and you joined in, creating a cacophony of off-key tunes.

Wrapped in fluffy towels, the kids yawned and Lotte read them bedtime stories. Evie snuggled into her crib, her thumb in her mouth. Noah clutched his stuffed dinosaur, eyelids drooping.

"Goodnight, buddy," you whispered, brushing Noah’s hair out of his face.

Lotte kissed Noah’s forehead. "Sleep tight, bud."

As you closed your spare bedroom door, you and Lotte collapsed on the couch. The house was quiet now, the only sounds were the ticking clock and the wind outside. Lotte rested her head on your shoulder, and you sighed contentedly.

"Being an auntie is the best," you said. “You get to hand them back whenever you want.”

Lotte nodded, leaning up and pecking your lips. "Can’t wait to have a life like this with you.

#awfc x reader #woso x reader #lotte wubben moy x reader #woso imagine #awfc

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sidekick-hero · 5 months

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Written for the @steddielovemonth prompt: Love is being willing to wait for them.

Eddie was six years old when he first met Steve, not that he would remember it until much, much later.

The boy Eddie met that day was sweet and a little shy, perhaps because he was so small for his age. He was a year younger than Eddie, only five, which was forever in Eddie's eyes. He felt responsible for the little boy somehow, so he walked up to him on the deserted playground to make sure he was okay.

"'Ello!" Eddie exclaimed, holding out his hand for Steve to shake, like he'd seen his daddy do all the time when they were in town. His dad called it part of the Munson charm, whatever that was, and Eddie wanted to be as cool as his dad. "I'm Eddie, who are you?"

The boy looked up at Eddie with big eyes and made no move to take Eddie's hand, so Eddie reached out and took the boy's hand in his own and shook it wildly.

"See, that's how you do it. And then you say your name. Let's try it again!" Eddie decided, still pumping the boy's hand. "I'm Eddie."

"Steve," the boy said with a slight lisp, and Eddie thought maybe he hadn't said his name earlier because he was afraid Eddie would make fun of him for it. The other kids made fun of him a lot, for a lot of reasons that Eddie didn't really understand. All he knew was that he didn't like it; it made him sad. Especially since none of the other kids would play with him, so he had to go on his adventures all alone, fighting the big dragon without a trusted knight at his side.

Perhaps Steve could be his knight.

"Will you help me slay the big dragon, Steve?" Eddie asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of finally having someone to play with. "He stole all our gold, so we have to slay him!"

He was still holding Steve's hand, but he dropped it as he began to imitate how they would fight the beast with their swords. "I'm a mage because my mom says every fairy tale needs a good fairy or a mage to help the hero defeat the villain. And you can be that hero, Steve! I'll help you with my magic," Eddie promised, his whole face breaking into a wide grin.

Steve giggled, but Eddie thought it wasn't like the other kids laughing at him. It sounded nice, like Steve was enjoying Eddie's antics. "What do you think, Sir Steve?"

Between bursts of pearly laughter, Steve eagerly agreed, but then paused to ask Eddie in a suddenly serious tone, "But why don't you wanna be the hero?"

"I'm no hero, Stevie! I'm a mage, didn't you hear me? I can do magic to help the hero, because only together can we defeat the beast." Eddie explained in an equally serious tone, because killing dragons was serious business.

"Okay," Steve agreed. "How do we fight a dragon? I never fought a dragon before."

Eddie explained his plans to Steve, and together they ran and climbed around the playground in search of the dragon. It was the most fun Eddie had had in a long time. Steve was the best hero ever; he listened to Eddie's ideas and had some surprisingly fun ones of his own. They forgot everything around them, caught up in a world of make-believe, until a woman's voice startled them out of their play.

"Steve! Steven, where are you? If your parents come home and you're not there, they'll fire me," the woman grumbled before shouting again. "Steve!"

Eddie looked at Steve questioningly as the voice came closer.

"That's Lucy, she's looking after me 'cause my parents don't have time," Steve explained in a low voice. "I have to go." He looked very sad when he said that and Eddie already missed his bright smile.

"That's okay, Stevie, we can kill the dragon tomorrow!"

That made Steve perk up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! I'll wait for you here tomorrow!"

"Thanks, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed, throwing his arms around Eddie in a tight hug before running off to find the woman.

The next day, Eddie was back at the playground as soon as he could get away from their house, telling his mama that he had finally made a friend and now they had to kill the dragon. "He's my hero, Mom, and I'm his mage, just like in the fairy tales!" He told her, and she hugged him tightly before making him and Steve two sandwiches, because "slaying dragons is hard work and makes you hungry'.

Steve wasn't there when Eddie arrived at the playground, so Eddie sat down on the swings and waited for his new friend.

He waited until the first signs of dawn reached the playground, and he had to eat both sandwiches because he was hungry, and drink all the water his mama had packed.

Eddie only left when it got dark, and he knew his mama would be worried. But he was back the next day, and the next. Every day for weeks, Eddie waited for Steve on the swing, always wondering why his new friend didn't want to play with him anymore.

Eddie never made a connection between his Stevie and King Steve. How could he, when King Steve was all aloof and arrogant, looking down on people like Eddie and walking the halls of Hawkins High with that haughty grin on his face. The boy wasn't his hero, and Eddie wouldn't dream of using his magic to help him.

Funnily enough, the first time Steve's sight sparked any kind of recognition in Eddie was when Eddie pinned him against a boathouse wall with a bottle against his neck. Stripped of his usual confidence by surprise and fear, Steve looked somehow... small. He sounded even smaller as he tried to reassure Eddie that he meant no harm, and the sound of his voice made something tingle at the back of Eddie's mind.

Steve was different than Eddie had expected, to say the least.

At times, he was snarky and bitchy. But not in the mean way he had been in high school. He was all bark and no bite. And he was good to Eddie's sheep, to all the kids, really. Like a big brother, a protector. A knight in shining armor who stood between them and danger.

And not just for the kids, for everyone.

Steve jumped into a dark, deep lake not knowing what awaited him; fought demonic bats with bare hands and teeth, losing more flesh than seemed healthy.

Steve was a hero, and later Eddie berated himself for not realizing it sooner, but hindsight is 20/20, and he only understood that Steve Harrington was indeed his Stevie when it was too late to do anything about it.

Eddie was almost sure when they stole the RV together, because the way Steve grinned at him just before they switched positions and Steve sped out of the trailer park reminded him so much of the sweet boy he once knew.

The boy he never really stopped waiting for.

When Steve asked Dustin and Eddie not to be cute, not to be heroes, he decided to test his theory.

"We're not heroes," he told Steve, and when Dustin said “you can be the hero, Steve” Eddie was watching his face for any sign of recognition. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of it in Steve's eyes. That was the moment he almost, almost asked outright.

Eddie even called out to him, the words on his tongue, "Why didn't you come back? I was waiting for you.' But in the end he decided against it. What use was there? They had bigger problems to deal with right now. He would ask Steve later, when it was all over. He would tell him that he had been waiting for him all this time and that he was glad that Steve had come back to him.

They would talk later.

Only later wouldn't come, Eddie realized as he tasted his own blood in his mouth and stared into Dustin's frightened, tearful eyes.

And then Steve was there, holding his hand, begging him, pleading with him to stay, not to die. Eddie couldn't promise him that, but he had promised him something else, and he wanted Steve to know that he had never broken that promise.

"I waited for you, Stevie. Every..." Eddie coughed wetly, more blood flooding his mouth, and he suppressed the grimace to keep smiling at Steve. "Every day. I knew you'd come back. Worth... the wait," Eddie whispered, his voice fading. Eddie was fading fast.

In the distance he heard Steve's voice begging him to stay, he needed his mage by his side, and the last thing he thought was that he was sorry he had to leave before he could see Steve slay their dragon, but he hoped his magic had helped enough.

The next time Eddie was able to think and feel, it was like waking up from the worst hangover ever. Everything hurt, even his hair.

Slowly opening his eyes to a thankfully dimly lit room, he winced at the sharp pain in his head. It made moving his head even more torturous, but Eddie had to know where he was. Looking around as much as he could, he realized several things.

He was in a hospital bed with monitors beeping softly beside him.

It was night, with only a small bedside lamp providing some light.

Steve Harrington was asleep next to him, his arms crossed on Eddie's bed and his head resting on them.

Eddie must have made some sort of noise at the sight, because at that moment Steve jumped to his feet, ready to fight or flight.

Then he looked at Eddie and a myriad of expressions played across his face. Most of them passed too quickly for Eddie to decipher, but he's sure he saw surprise and joy. Wonder, definitely, but maybe fear, too, though Eddie had no idea why Steve would be afraid of him.

"Steve," Eddie croaked, his throat like sandpaper. The sound of his name was enough to jolt Steve into action and he hurried over to Eddie's bedside table. Seconds later, a straw was held to his mouth and blessedly cool water filled his mouth and ran down his throat.

"Thank you," he told Steve when the cup was empty and he felt more like a human being again. A badly mangled human being, but he took what he could get. "What happened? Is everyone..."

"Vecna is dead. Everyone made it out alive." Eddie let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "That's all you need to know for now. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, okay? You should get some more rest. You... we almost lost you."

Steve looked shattered as he said this and Eddie finally noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Steve's hair worried him even more. It looked greasy and unkempt, worse than it had even looked in the Upside Down.

Eddie was afraid to ask, but he had to know. "How long..."

"Twenty days. They couldn't tell us when you'd wake up. If you'd wake up." His voice broke at the words, and Eddie tried to lift his hand to soothe and comfort, but it weighed a million pounds.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, Stevie," he said instead, hoping to ease Steve's pain with his words instead. But all it did was make Steve collapse, the bed the only thing breaking his fall. He was the one who reached for Eddie's hand then and held on to it like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm the one who kept you waiting for years. I never went back to that playground. My babysitter didn't want to take me anymore because I ran away, and she almost lost her job. And then it had been years before I was old enough to go by myself and I couldn't... the thought of going there and you not being there was too much. And why should you be? Nobody would wait that long."

The "not for me" rang out between them and Eddie gathered all his strength to pull Steve's hand to his mouth. As he planted a kiss on the soft skin of the back of his hand, Eddie said in a low voice, "I did ... I waited all this time for you. This playground became my hound, once a day I would stop by, just in case. I always hoped you would come back."

Now it was Steve's turn to take Eddie's hand in his and place it gently on his cheek, planting a soft kiss on Eddie's palm.

Caressing Steve's lips with his thumb, Eddie smiled at the sweet boy he had waited a lifetime for. His hero.

"We did it, Stevie. We slayed the dragon!"

Steve's pearly laugh echoed through the room, silenced only by Eddie's lips as he leaned down to capture them in a fairy-tale kiss.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 4 #love is being willing to wait for them #my writing

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anyaharveyii · 27 days

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almost all the dishes in the Stark family house are the same. the plates, cups, and silverware are from the same (ridiculously overpriced) brand.

there are a few exceptions, of course. there's the old china tea set from one of Pepper's relatives, and there's old sippy cups and plastic dishes that Morgan doesn't use anymore (she's a big girl now).

but the one that Morgan is really curious about is her dad's mug.

it's a weird looking thing, in her opinion. it could be mistaken for any simple white mug, if not for a few details. the edges are chipped and rougher than the rest of the mug, there's a strange pattern of dots painted around the rim, and one side reads "HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to the WORLD'S #1 DAD".

Morgan's dad loves the mug, she suspects. it's the only cup he uses to drink anything.

and, being the curious kid that she is, she wants to know what's so special about it. she waits one day until her dad is gone and her mom is on an important call to climb onto the counter and pluck it carefully from the drying rack.

upon closer inspection, she realizes that the little dots look like spiders. and at the bottom on the inside, there’s tiny lettering that spells: "To Tony, from Peter."

that night, while her dad's tucking her into bed and asking her which story she wants him to tell tonight, she builds up her courage and asks him, "do you have any stories about Peter?"

she will remember the look on his face for years to come.

of course, after asking her where she learned that name from, he agrees. he tells her about the genius named Peter Parker and his scientific adventures and discoveries. and the next night, after she asks for another Peter Parker story, it becomes a habit.

eventually, "the adventures of Peter Parker" becomes her second favorite bedtime story request.

(second only to "the adventures of Spider-Man", of course).

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #tony stark #iron man #pepper potts #tony stark x pepper potts #pepperony #morgan stark #peter parker #spider man #spiderman #iron dad #irondad and spiderson

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evilminji · 9 months

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Can You "Accidental Baby Acquisition" Yourself?

Like? Say you have a You... who is NOT You, obviously, but A You in the Multiversal sense... and their childhood suuuuuucked. Just? Truely awful for reasons beyond their control.

Such as the veil NOT being so easily peirced in their reality and humanity a bit more... Reactive(tm) to ectoplasm, due to the lower concentration of it in the Everything of their Universe. Which makes their parents research? Unattainable. Dangerous.

Ultimately fatal to their elder sister.

And then later, them.

Not that they were even the loving if wildly eccentric parents most of the other You's KNOW and have. Due to that very say research and their long-term exposure to their own samples. The Reactivity.

"Pit Rage" as some circles call it.

They weren't themselves. Stopped BEING themselves long before their children ever came into the picture. If they could think clearly, they would BEG for someone to save their children. From them. From their house of horrors. From what they've become.

And well? You exsist outside of Time. In the Zone. Maybe you have a wide and crazy adventure with this grizzled, worn, badass of a You. Figure he's pretty cool. Ask if he needs anything. And he laughs this broken glass in your chest sort of sound and says:

"Not unless you could give me a real childhood."

Like? Dude. Buddy. My buddy dude. Gonna have to explain that one. You can't just drop that and walk away. We Crazy Action Bros Adventure(tm) bonded. You can tell me. And reluctantly... he kinda does.

And... Look. You exsist outside of TIME. Your mentor IS Time. You can TOTALLY do that.

This.

But like? You realize... there wouldn't be TWO of you... right? If you take mini-Bamf out of the timestream at point A... you, big guy, stop existing at every instance of point B and onwards.

Yeah. Yeah, he gets that. Fully consents. His life was full of bad decisions and dramatic bullshit. He wants a real childhood. His sister back. Wants them BOTH out of that house and somewhere safe. If he could do it himself, he would. Call it his fucked up way of healing. Finally facing his trauma. It's haunted him long enough.

.....well then. Now You've got a baby and a fussy toddler. They have superpowers because of course they do. That house was OSHAs waking nightmares and deepest fever dreams. Jazzypants is hungy. And baby You did a stinky.

This is Fine(tm).

You're a King! You can TOTALLY handle this! Teeeeeemporarily. Since it's not like they can stay HERE. The Zone is literally uninhabitable long term for the living. So time to fire up the ol Brain Meats. Gremlin Ideas formulating. Loading... Loading... Loooooooading. Got it!

You kidnapped them.

Brilliant! FRIGHTY! Where's the Trenchcoat Booze Slu-...SLUHeuth. Sleuth! Totally what I was planning to say, Starshines! Don't curse. Cursing Bad~☆

The Detective Of Loose Morales in The Trenchcoat, who's Soul I Own, Frighty! Where's he at?? *Distant muffled answer* Close enough! Time to give him a heart attack! And throw a fight! Can you toss me a nightmare medallion? I need to instill mortal terror! Thaaaanks, Frighty! Also can you change diapers? *affirmative noises* Ancients, you're the best.

Smash cut to John Constantine. Busting up some cult, as you do. When? Oh fuck. The leaders heading for the store room! Not today, fucker! They fight. They struggle. It's Manly and Gritty and dramatic! When?

A terrible CRASH. Some artifact must have activated. What... have you DONE? *dramatic musical sting* swirling green and DEATH radiates out from a pin prick of nothing. A black hole in reverse. The cold oblivion of space, given bones to claw its way free. Eyes that sear in colors too technicolor and hypersaturated to be mortal. Green. Green! GREEN.

Ice and stars and death and a terrible, unspeakable Crown.

Two... two little sprogs. Tiny bits of nothing in a monsters hand. KIDS, wrapped up in something they never should of even had to nightmare about. John's eyes catch on red, red hair. A tiny little headband with butterflies on it. Pressed so close to dark locks, as she wraps herself around her little bits of a sibling.

The other ones dressed up in stars.

Someone SOLD their fuckin KIDS. Or this damned this STOLE them. It doesn't matter. Not now, not to John. Because this bastard isn't keeping them. He slides like breathing into the waves of luck and chance, odds and fate. Is on his feet and drawing attention. Whatever it takes, he's leaving here with those kids.

He laughs and it's not a kind one.

"Oi! A word if you will?"

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny tricks John in taking the munchkins #john TOTALLY won these infants fair and square guys #he says showing up covered in ash to the next meeting #with two toddlers he has no idea what to do with #so uuuuh #anyone want two kids?#batman put your fucking hand down

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fumifooms · 1 month

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Chilchuck, family & alcoholism

Collection of thoughts and speculation on Chil’s upbringing, his dynamic with his family and how alcoholism ties into it all. If you want the groundwork info on Chil’s background I recommend my masterpost on his family, here beyond a summary of the facts it’s really just me speculating from the crumbs we get of his parents and siblings, how it’s all affected him and in turn affected his own wife and kids etc etc.

There’s nothing more I’d like on mother’s day than to speculate about Chilchuck’s maladaptive attachment style. I’m fascinated by how distant everyone is and how much he’s been devoted to them all despite having been so absent. Intergenerational trauma get over here

Actually it’ll be easier if I make a rundown here too, it’s just stuff I reiterate from my masterpost tho.

Tiny table of contents: 1- rundown: family facts 2- rundown: alcoholism 3- dad 4- parenting 5- daughters 6- wife

^ Every time his dad gets mentioned. His mom never gets mentioned. His siblings I think are only ever mentioned in this extra, and then there are more ambiguous relatives cameos.

We know is hometown isn’t Kahka Brud, but we’re not sure wether he moved there upon getting his own house (presumably around when he got married at 13), or if it’s only after his wife when he rented out his place to relatives then rented the place in Kahka Brud.

If he rented it out to relatives, maybe that meant it was in his hometown? Especially if he and his siblings are "almost strangers" so presumably he doesn’t really keep in touch with his family. And I mean, he hasn’t seen his wife or daughter in 4 years so you can imagine how he’s like with his more distant family…

Additionally half-foots and Chil are very coded to be from an impoverished opressed working class people. So that’s the context.

I’ll say that I mentioned intergenerational trauma at the beginning, and I def think the distrust of elves is part of that, but here I want to focus on the interpersonal effects rather.

Copy pasting my masterpost thoughts overall: Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then a free range parenting sort of thing.

We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have caring people or had a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it’s the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others, they instilled somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he’s younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught.

I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal, it being worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the “alcohol” section of his Adventurer’s Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn’t hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough. As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home and was still around when his father died, not unlike how Chil’s wife was implied to be a housewife. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to speculate about too. Mostly though I think it’s big family because it’s just sorta what happens when you regularly have sex and you don’t have contraception, being poor often makes family planning harder for various reasons and leads to more children.

Alcoholism context rundown:

Good Chilchuck analysis baseline here. Alcohol seems to be his main stress reliever/coping mechanism, especially for how emotionally constipated he is, and his job is being stressed about his party’s safety. Then he also mentions as a changeling that having his senses dulled feels relaxing to him, further confirming alcohol, as a drug that dulls senses, is something that he likes for the intoxication aspect and feels it’s relaxing. Alcohol also acts as a hunger suppressant, so it for sure has played a role in his dieting and unhealthy eating/diet habits, especially since he shows the instinct to drink to soothe hunger, all of that about how going hungry for 3 days used to feel manageable. Chil dieting info compiled here.

Chilchuck is at his most effortlessly cheerful when drunk or drinking. Compilation of every time he was drunk here.

And to be clear, a cheerful drunk is still a drunk. He literally will drink anytime he gets the opportunity to even if he’s aware overdrinking leads to health problems and death. Like canonically. He does NOT see how drinking should be a problem and does not seek to show restraint with it.

Dad of the dad

Marcille and Chilchuck having a talk on how losing a dad be like "You lost your dad young too…? I know how it is, it must have hit you hard…" "No not really tbh. Do you want lasagna or chicken for dinner?" <- either genuinely doesn’t feel much about his dad’s death or has 10 layers of repression, idk which is worse

I think Chil not making a big deal out of his dad’s death, not having worries in following into his footsteps that way in the least, is super interesting.

As a buddy @saccharineomens puts it: " I kinda imagine chilchuck and his dad didn't have a bad relationship, but in general chilchuck is so blase about drinking (he sees it as a delightful time, a wonderful thing! he wouldn't mind dying doing something he loved!) that he's not very upset about his dad's passing? like "yeah, he died, but i was already an adult, he was an adult, he made his choices, i make my choices, it's cool" " And I’ll nitpick that we don’t know how old he was when his dad died, I always assumed it was pretty early since Chil left home when he got married, and like I’ve gone into he doesn’t seem to be the keep in touch type. It’s on the table though, and he could have learned about it through letter if nothing else and that contributes to the "meh" reaction.

And that is very Chilchuck, the whole "we made our choices, it is how it is, he died doing something he loved", and you can totally believe that that’s the crux of it, but I do think the nonchalance hints at the family overall being distant and not only the siblings, that there’s dysfunctional shenanigans going on in there more than just… Healthy coping and having moved on.

I wonder when Chil first drank… And I wonder how he came to realize he liked alcohol a lot. His father probably gave him sips… Or he stole them

No because, with how disaffected he is about his father and siblings I could definitely see him having started to kind of numb himself/dissociate with the help of alcohol in that home environment that felt so… Either devoid of feelings or too messy to get attached. I can totally see his family being one that encourages dealing with feelings by bottling them up.

Because too… We saw him have a family/community feast of some sort presumably when he was a kid, in that chapter cover, so it’s not like there’s no warmth or sense of family at all, but then like… What went wrong? If as I theorize that girl with short black hair in that panel is his future wife, since she’s his childhood friend and all, what if his family/home life was always kind of cold and distant, even when gathered and cheery or despite those occasions? So then it’s like, at the family gatherings, she’s the most important person there to him, the one he actually connects to the most, the warmest presence he has…….. Someone he jokes around with that feels on the same speed as him, that doesn’t have the same connotations as everyone else present, a bit of a haven, someone different, a breath of fresh hair and a regained sense of childhood… Spitballing of course of course

I feel like they had a pretty big family and they were poor and such so there were always chores to be done etc, so their household might have operated like a mini busiess of sorts where everyone’s too busy, always has this and that to do and the mother asks them to go do tasks. I used to think it might be more of a neglect situation, where the kids are expected to provide for themselves and so cook their own meals and whatnot, both parents distant, but I don’t think so with the feast illustration. Chil at the beginning of canon used to see eating as a practical thing more than anything, you have to eat to live but don’t eat much or your weight will make your job more dangerous, might as well skip meals and have beer instead, etc etc. So the thought that he doesn’t know how to cook all that well despite this speculated background where he cooked for himself and keeps cooking minimalistic, since he does tell Senshi he taught him about cooking, is fair, but still… There could definitely be a situation where his older siblings were pushed into a parental role too, where they helped with the food and raising the younger siblings etc etc. As mentioned, the age gap between siblings may play into the dynamic as well. But on this front I have less ideas…

So yes my general take on Chil’s family is that everyone was too busy to emotionally connect as much as is normal, the parenting leaving things to be desired with alcoholism and emotional neglect.

Fathering

And I think that’s especially interesting considering he hasn’t been keeping in touch with his daughters either. It’s "they’re independent now" and that’s kinda it. His daughters haven’t sent him letters or visited him or tried to make him talk to their mom again. It does feel like with his own parents and siblings to me, where people are almost strangers, where relationships grow apart and everyone shrugs and goes ‘that’s how things are’. Is it that everyone including all his daughters gave up on trying to keep in touch, or is it that they all went "well divorced or not he’s absent, this is our normal tbh", and which is worse?

So yes, I think his relationship with his daughters is probably similar to his relationship with his parents, sort of hands off. Chil's dad was probably not a good dad but probably not quite a bad dad. A definitive He Was There, to quote another friend heh

Imo the thing with Chil is that he was pretty absent bc of work travels to dungeon dive, right. He’s working hard to provide for his family but in the process he’s not spending much time with them, slowly making a gap grow between him and them as they drift apart and change as people. He’s a career dad who never realized spending time with his family was more important and threw his pager into the ocean— But also here’s the thing!! You want to say being his family is more important, but money is arguably more important! They’re poor, they don’t have the privilege of free time as much. Sure he’s not there, but he is providing for them what they need to keep living and growing healthily. Similarly, you want to say Chil should stop doing harsh dieting for weight management, but, he has a point, maybe starving is still preferable than dying in traps. Of course the ideal would be to change jobs, but again, life is a struggle and that’s not always an option.

^ Truly the classic "if you don’t listen to me, your parent, a cryptid is gonna kidnap you!" international experience………

He is so so so the "What? My way of parenting is kinda bad? But my father raised me like that, and look how great I turned out!" <- emotionally dysfunctional…….. "Pshhh what do you mean having an alcoholic parent negatively affects you? My father was an alcoholic too and look at me" 🤡

All of it was behavior normalized to him. And listen, I’m saying this but not as like, shirking of his part in it. This isn’t a teen or young adult, he’s middle aged, he’s become the one giving and not receiving the generational trauma. He’s chosen to never think deeper on the topic.

And like, he himself is so indifferent to his father and what their relationship was like, of course he wouldn’t notice if a parenting choice wasn’t great for his daughters. He doesn’t have a relationship with his dad, he’s not (at least not consciously) traumatized by him, so from his perspective it’s mission success! He got raised decent enough 👍⭐️ Except he doesn’t realize that like, not particularly caring if he died is sign of a problem between them in itself… And this even as he remains somewhat of an important figure in his life, especially since that’s who he sees on the other side of the life river in the ghost chapter. It’s implicitly the biggest instance of loss through death Chilchuck has in his life I think.

But despite it all he obviously does love his family a lot, right. So I do believe that like, while he has imperfect standards when it comes to parenting he still tries to be better than his dad was, that even if it’s necessary that he has a lot of long work travels, he spends time with them. And there’s sort of this dissonance that he’s both "it doesn’t matter wether i’m here or not, they’ll live, they’re tough girls. Oh they didn’t like my scolding earlier? It’s just how kids are" dismissive and "I love them so much and I want them to have a good life. I want to do my best by them" devoted and so so caring. And like that’s why he works so damn hard, he does it for them, but also that’s why the girls grew up with an absentee father and aughhhh AUGHHHH the unsolvable dilemma of it all Chilchuck in Dunmeshi truly represents like, the harshness of reality & the world and how sometimes things will just suck no matter what, and then of course balancing that with Marcille in their shared arc where she tacks on "And despite that there is beauty everywhere even in the small and menial things, despite that your flawed relationships and dreams are still worth fighting for" ie giving reconciling with his wife a shot, etc.

All that said I think the very strict "you’re gonna grow up to have a stable job by god, young miss" attitude, those strong work ethics he highly values and focuses on and no doubt tried to instill in is own kids, is something he somewhat inherited from his own upbringing and parents.

In my masterpost bit on his parenting, I said I don’t think he’d do any kind of corporeal punishment, but. I do wonder about spanking aftee all. It can be so so easy to rationalize it… Sigh

Daughter pov

Again, my general interpretations for the daughters are written in my masterpost. I think Patti knows her father the least and is the one least worried about jobs and stability and least settled down as a result. Flertom is the more social one who I imagine tended to be the one worried about her parents’ couple and their emotions the most. And Meijack… Ohh Meijack.

When your father tried his best to provide for you but he worked all the time and even when he was home he was either tired or stressed and he’s always liked to get drunk to relax and cheer up. When you know he values work ethics and respectability so you grew up to be capable and quiet. And when he says you’re like him you’re sort of puzzled, does he really know you so little, or does he know himself so little? But you like the feeling of your father ruffling your hair so you accept it and still you stand next to your mother just as quiet and just as stoic during family gatherings. He leaves again and again and when your mother leaves him nothing changes, really. You wonder if it’s more telling that you know him better than he seems to himself or that you don’t know him as much as you wish you did, or that you don’t think about him all that much these days. Out of sight out of mind

Thinking of those posts about how kids never forget and during the "draw your family!" things at school, some of the kids draw their working parents seperate from the rest of them...

Absent father and when he’s at home you get the crumbs of him that you get and you’re grateful for it and that’s that <333

She doesn’t know how much he loves them bc he hasn’t showed them in a long time </3

The horror of drunk Chil in my fics is often about what in this state he can’t do rather than what he could do, how someone who’s as proud of his skills and work ethics as he is has truly changed, not comprehending how he could become so sloppy or how he could allow himself to get like this, marred the values he preaches above all else. It’s in the way that he fumbles with doorknobs, that he could never lockpick a door if you were to lock it, and it both being your salvation and bringing you extreme distress at the thought of it all. His footsteps usually featherlight now sound heavy as stone, like a troll’s.

You know the thing that gets me so bad with alcoholism angst is when people describe the drunk person as a stranger. Often making a metaphor that they’re monsters, have some monster they shapeshift into uncontrollably once in a while, as a way to split the unreconciliable halves of the person sober and drunk in your vision of them……. It gets me soooo bad Little Puckpatti growing up on tales of trolls kidnapping disobedient kids and replacing them with doubles so no one even knows they’re gone… Coming face to face with a drunk Chilchuck that roams the halls of the house with heavy steps in the night, because she wanted to go drink a glass of water, too thirsty to sleep………..

And this is where I reveal that I wrote a fic about just that!! Trolls that thump and tiptoe through the night Mei @ Chil, You made me of stone and still every day you wear me down and chip away at me bit by bit

In the end notes I describe my takes and interpretations: With Mei I tried to give the sense of a kid who sacrifices some parts of childhood to feel closer to her parent, like not playing games to spend more time with him no matter how empty, or wanting to be worthy in his eyes. With Fler, since she was the one in canon to take in their mother and write Chil a letter explaining the situation, I feel like she’s always been the one most involved and aware of the problems in their family. The one most there to emotionally support or to understand what the vibes in a room meant. Puckpatti I think knows her father the least, since with time I think Chilchuck was more and more away from work and more and more cynical like the flashbacks of younger him dungeon diving. I think because of her not minding unstable odd jobs that she’s the most passive, that she’s the most go with the flow. I do also love when Mei is the one most aware of her parents’ flaws and most critical as the eldest, but not in this fic. Meijack grows up to never touch a drop of alcohol, what people joke is the one difference between her and her father. Flertom drinks, too much sometimes, but she considers drinking should be a social activity rather than a habit. Puckpatti only drinks on special occasions when she has the chance.

They already don’t have that much time together because of his work, I wonder how big of a percentage the amount of memories the daughters have of him are when he’s not himself truly… How they kinda reconcile it all. It’s their normal.

And the thing that’s gutting too, is that Chil always looks so so much more open, relaxed, cheerful and happier when drunk than he usually is. He doesn't know how to get his defenses down without alcohol

"you're all that's good"

Because we do see how he truly used to not be so closed off and bitter. But distrust and fearing for betrayals from both coworkers and then his wife aka the person who’s supposed to be closest to him (he doesn’t even have close family besides his daughters. Does he even have close friends) turned him into what he is now. He was so cheerful!! Happy and trusting and optimistic.

He leaves and she left

God there’s the whole ‘wife leaving him’ trauma too is the thing… It had to have fucked him up so bad like no wonder he got paranoid and decided not to open up to ANYONE like. He never saw it coming is the scariest thing. He didn’t expect her to just up and leave. He didn’t see the warning signs. He won’t know if it’s coming this time either.

….. But then also, why he didn’t reach out to her (besides hurt) was because it was a petty silence treatment, like "oh she left without saying a word? Fine well I won’t reach out to her either" <- man who is so not fine and collected about it. It’s been FOUR YEARSSSSSSS I wonder if he always was like… "This week she’s gonna send a letter. … Ok fine, this month she’s gonna crack. … Within the year she’ll come crawling back." and it’s a bit why it was allowed to go on for this long unchecked like… Why he still considers her his wife even though functionally she’s more of an ex by that point after 4 years.

I can never stop thinking about him and his wife they’re fucking crazyyy. Him not reaching out to her started as a silent treatment from frustration. She never reached out to him either, she just up and left, didn’t even leave or send one last letter she’s just gone and has left this all behind, the house and everything in it. It’s been 4 years but he still considers her his wife and considers themselves only "estranged", "due to circumstances we haven’t seen each other in years". His face in the panel he said this is interesting too, trying to be casual but defensive and exasperated, already dreading the judgement and questions. He moved out of his house to rent a place in Kahka Brud instead. How much of him not reaching out was avoidance… Guilt, frustration, sadness, confusion, just procrastinating and dread and fear of a rejection more concrete, or something else… Maybe realizing he doesn’t miss her as much as he should, not enough to chase after her or try to get her back, just resigning himself to it… Is he a bad husband, is he a bad person? Should they reconcile?

Not seeing it coming… It’s half trust, that this person who’s so dear to you could never just up and leave and hurt you like that, half entitlement, thinking that she would never think of leaving, and third it’s blinding himself to the warning signs, not wanting to believe or acknowledge them. Because like, there WERE some, he said she "suddenly fell into a bad mood on the way back [from the outing]" and I don’t think he’s too dumb to be aware that something was off, he literally just dismissed it and then went surprised pikachu face when it turned out things were indeed off.

Part of it is definitely, how do you even react if your wife walks out on you without warning. If it happened to me I think that I wouldn’t reach out for a while either, wait for them to reach out to me first, give them space. As I put it in one of my marchil wips, "I respect your right to be rid of me too much to try and shackle you to me if you want to leave". Inaction is easier than admitting he’s scared to check and find out that the worst case scenario is true. It’s been years and he still hasn’t worked it out why she left. Do you think that’s on purpose. That he doesnt want to know for sure. It’s so so so scary to try and do anything about it

He said he didn’t reach out right away when she left because he was petty and wanted to give her the silence treatment back. Ok but is it that he blames her for their marriage falling apart or does he blame himself and he’s just misdirecting the conflicted feelings? Did he not reach out because a part of him was too scared to know why she left or if she would refuse to come back? Did he just think that she’d come back on her own, and things would get fixed while still staying unsaid and unconfronted like they always have, the first month, then the next and the next, until it was a year in and it sunk in that oh, maybe she wasn’t coming back?

He seems genuine here when he says that he was angry about it and gave her the silent treatment, but it is an habit of his to lie to make himself look worse instead of showing vulnerability, so who knows.

He is so so scared of being affected by relationships. Same thing with his compulsive habit to disguise his worry for anger. It’s why he doesn’t want people to have expectations of him, "I’m a coward I’m selfish", because then they can’t be disappointed, they can’t be surprised if he bites, they can’t leave when you lose what they’ve been staying for.

He has avoidant tendencies too. Every time there’s an interpersonal issue he just accepts it’s out of his control immediately. He’s passive when it comes to relationship problems, just like with coworkers, relationships are a ticking time bomb to him, and he just wants to be left out of it and come out unscathed. It comes back to his pessimism. He doesn’t think that like, things could be better. According to him life is tough and cruel, you accept your lot in life and make the best out of it and that’s it. If people are scummy you don’t whine about how unfair it is, you close yourself off and work to not be taken advantage of again and adapt. So then with his wife, when Marcille is like "Have you tried… Talking?" it’s such a crazy idea that it might work at all, that he could have the power to fix things… And that’s why it’s such a big deal when he goes "Alright I’ll try… I don’t know if it’ll go as well as in the stories, but I’ll try". That CRUMB of allowing himself to be hopeful is so huge

Honestly for the longest time I misread this bit, I thought she left in the night like how Marcille framed it, but no she left after he left for work. She left after he left again.

The way it’s told, it really sounds like Chilchuck just came home from work, stayed probably a couple of days in which they went to that outing together, then left for work again right away/soon after and it’s like. Was that outing the most special thing you guys did together. You came home from like a month of work, you had one outing where she ended up having a bad time, y’all didn’t talk about it further and then you left for another couple of weeks. Are you kidding me

Your married life is waiting for your husband to come home, spending mediocre time together, being shut down when you voice discontentment, and things being left unaddressed before he leaves again.

She left when he was gone for work, but did she leave the day of, or did she flip flop on it and took a while before working up the strength to leave? Was she waiting to see if he’d say anything before leaving and when he didn’t that was the last straw?

Chilchuck trying to prove a point that half-foots can make it out there, trying to rely more on himself because that’s the only person he can trust. His wife feeling like he's leaving her behind (because he does. over and over and over and over.) This guy just keeps throwing himself into work because he thinks it's what's best for everyone. Hey sir neglecting emotional needs can be kinda detrimental to everyone involved, I think you might wanna know that ^ quotes courtesy of @soappox

And to come back to alcoholism for a bit, alcoholism is alcoholism, and someone asked why I thought that a Chilchuck with depression would drink and cope through alcohol, since drinking seems to be something cheerful to him. It does puzzle me a bit but it’s worth going over, so… I don’t think him using drinking as a coping mechanism is far fetched at all. Cheerful drunks that are alcoholic still can absolutely use alcohol in ways like that. If something makes you happier, or even just more numb which translates to you feeling more free etc etc, then I definitely think it tracks that he’d keep drinking. Like personally I do think he’d drink a lot after his wife left him, and in rough patches like that. Depression -> not wanting to have to think, the days are blurring together and you either don’t want to be conscious or you want to feel something etc etc -> drinking for the alcohol. Alcoholics tend to be, well, dependent on alcohol. If something bad happens etc they’re usually more likely to go harder on it rather than stop. We can debate on when and why Chilchuck first started to drink but it’s straight up his favorite food now and it’s deeply ingrained in his life, in his favorite outings and activities and priorities and moods and meals. A CHEERFUL DRUNK IS STILL A DRUNK!!! They drink to get happy not drink because they are happy, though obviously the two can have overlap.

Chil represses sooo much. His solution to interpersonal conflict and feelings is just don’t think about it and dull your feelings & senses to everything ✨ I love him. I need to kill him with hammers Like the other day I was thinking about an AU where he might have ran away from his neglectful home or something, but then I remembered he deals with everything including his family by dulling his feelings and senses to things 🫠 He wouldn’t leave

I’d say he doesn’t look troubled by loss through death, moreso loss through mistakes. His nightmare is his daughters dying yes, but moreso them being killed, there’s an axe in the wall etc, it’s about having failed to protect them.

If he can’t fuck something up or if he’s already fucked it up there’s this pacifying sense that he can’t have the rug pulled from under him, because that’s what having connections is, having a wife isn’t an insurance it’s a rug waiting to be pulled. And his brand is sort of Flawed Mr Mistakes Man so he’s kinda been having to cope lol. I do think he throws himself into workaholism, because it’s sort of the only way to live he knows, making yourself capable and useful and spending his days working like that, less time to think, too tired to think. Senses dulled, senses that are usually too sharp, cutting with clarity that he prefers ignoring and avoiding. Work is something he doesn’t have to feel through, something that gives him pride and self-esteem, something through all the danger and life or death risk feels safer, emotionally. No one taught him how to deal with things another way, it’s always been suck it up and work.

Conclusion

Stop smoking we love you and we don’t want you to die

No drinking will not externalize your feelings no it won’t vent them out well please Chilchuck ple-ea-ease…….

</3 They should invent an alcoholism that doesn’t make you dysfunctional and hard to be around

^ Drunk, by The Living Tombstone

I’ve been thinking about enneagrams and Chil is 6w7 highkey. Becomes 3 when stressed, a little 8 but it’s more that he wants security so much that he becomes paranoid rather than having the core of an 8 y’know. I haven’t dug into it for quotes yet but this paper goes hard if you’re curious.

Dropping my relevant Spotify playlists here bc why not: Chilchuck & his wife, marchil angst

#I’m allergic to making short casual speculation posts apparently #Dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims #chilchuck’s family #Chilchuck’s wife #theories #meta #analysis #It was mother’s day when I decided to gather my old discord message and work on posting this so. Not fixing that intro #I’m always too late </3 #Marcille singing A Girl Worth Fighting For @ Chilchuck #Spoilers #i lost half of this post TWICE. This is my Joker arc #Hopefully i can finish my web weaving about this today #Chilchuck is so cool I wish dads were real #Chilchuck “my family doesn’t need me” tims #This almost killed me it’s not even the topic it’s bc tumblr wanted me dead. This silly post. It was supposed to be CASUAL and SHORT #Analysis #i just ended up talking about chil a lot again. Give me excuses to talk about him more #Character analysis #meijack #Puckpatti #flertom #fanfic #Fumi rambles

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edgeray · 21 days

Note

hi ray! for your requests, may i ask for arlecchino x gn!house of the hearth child reader where reader is feeling down for whatever reason, and tries their best not to alarm arlecchino or show signs, but she ends up finding out anyway and comforts them?

Stitching Back Joy

(Platonic Arlecchino x GN! Child! Reader)

A/N - Sure! My first platonic request, nice! I've yet wrote platonic Arlecchino x Reader, but I've been meaning to for a while, so thanks for this request. Not exactly sure how old you wanted reader to be, but I had reader to be pretty young, probably a tween or younger. Hope this one turns out okay! Content warnings / info - reader is a child, reader is gn!, arle may be ooc but at least she's a good father. no warnings :) i named reader's toy if you don't mind, 1.1k words

You should have known better than to be rough-housing with your lifelong companion and favorite toy. However, you were stupid, and your siblings were just a touch too rough, and then there was a loud rip, as the leg of your plush was torn right off, the stuffing escaping out of it. Your siblings all gasped and paused their playing already.

You stood with the other half of Benny, their other, in-tact leg dangling from your tight grasp around it. Your tiny heart was broken like Benny, and the corner of your eyes burned, tears welling.

Benny had been with you since you were eight, around the time of your arrival at the House of the Hearth. During your first night, you were restless, tossing and turning, anxious because of the new environment even though Father was generous and the other children were kind. The next morning, when Father noticed the signs of a fitful sleep, she decided that you would benefit from an outing with her.

That day, she brought you to a toy store and prompted you to select one. As your eyes scanned the shelves, one beady eyed expression caught your attention–a plush boot weasel. The House of the Hearth welcomed another new member that day, that being Benny the weasel, who was fixedly snug in your arms as you returned to the orphanage, no longer feeling like the only new sibling. Your closest best friend who has been with you on all your adventures around the House was now missing an arm. Benny who helped you sneak into the kitchen past curfew (only for you to be caught by Lyney), Benny who helped you make friends with the other children, Benny who was the only one who could hug you when you were sick was hurt. And now Benny was hurt.

The boy who was holding the other leg of Benny quickly returned it to you, a million apologies spilling from his lips. You knew he was sincere, you knew he didn't mean to, but all you could do was gaze at the spilt stuffing at your feet, each ‘sorry’ flying past your head.

You sit hunched over one of the desks in the House's library, attempting to bandage Benny's leg back while you sniffle, rubbing the wetness out of your eyes for the nth time. You know you shouldn't be crying, this wasn't a big deal after all, it was just some toy, you tried to reason yourself to stop the tears. Inserting the stuffing into Benny for the third time you push in the leg and try again, but like the previous two times, the limb always falls out.

Your sight goes blurry as an onset of frustrated tears trailed down your cheeks.

Then, you hear the familiar bell, the sound signaling to everyone in the House that it was meal time. You hastily wipe away your tears. You can't be seen crying over some toy, you couldn't bring him because you didn't want anyone to see that you were upset over a plush. You give one more glance towards Benny, promising that you'll bring food to them, before you leave for dinner, without them in your arms for the first time. You sit at your assigned chair of the long table, your dozen or so other siblings scrambling by, and Father approaches, taking her seat at the head of the table.

The table is rowdy as per usual, your siblings chatting eagerly among themselves. Normally, you would join in as well, but you're too distraught over the missing company in your hands, feeling more lonely than ever before despite being surrounded by your entire family.

Little did you know that Father's eyes were on you throughout the entire meal.

As you got up to leave, you hear your name being called.

“Can you stay behind? I'd like to discuss something with you,” Father says. You gulp nervously. Father rarely asks to talk to you alone. Were you in trouble? Or did Father notice your disquiet? Either way, you nod. As everyone else leaves the dining room, only you and Father remain.

“Come here, my child,” she says, extending her arm out to gesture to the space beside her chair. You waddle your way towards her, your head down and you try to stifle your sniffling. She places a gentle clawed hand on your shoulder, and she urges you to look at her when her other hand tilts your head. You willed your eyes to not cry.

“Is something bothering you?”

You shake your head. “Nothing is bothering me, Father,” you assert, but your voice cracks, signaling an obvious lie to the Harbinger.

“I will repeat again. What is bothering you? I do not see your friend with you,” Father notes, her tone becoming sterner, glancing down at your arms.

You stay silent for a few moments, before you beak underneath her glare. “My friend… they got broken when I was playing earlier today. An-and, I can't…” Your lips trembled as you paused, attempting not to cry with the knowledge that Father does not appreciate tears. Still, the tears escape, and you cannot prevent them from flowing down your cheeks. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for her scolding as you stammer out the rest of your response. “I-I can't fix them.”

Father goes silent, each second of quietude feeding into your anxiety, before she says, “Can I see them, my child?”

You crack open an eye, your vision blurry from the tears but you can tell her piercing red gaze is still on you. “M-my friend?”

“Yes.”

You feebly nod and make your way to the library, Father following one step behind you. Guiding her to Benny, you showcase your maimed friend, their missing limb off to the side and stuffing bleeds out of them. Father reaches out and holds the delicate toy in her hand, turning it over and examining it.

“Can you trust me with your friend, my child?”

You sniffle. “A-are you going to f-fix him?”

“Yes. Will you allow me to be with them for a little while? I will ensure that they will return to you before curfew.”

Nodding away, with shaky hands, you place the leg and the stuffing you were able to salvage into her hands.

“Go play with your siblings in the meanwhile. Run along.”

You follow her orders, finding your siblings and distracting yourself from the absence of your best friend until the bell for curfew rings. Filing towards the bedroom with your siblings, you anxiously scamper to your bed.

Benny awaits you on your pillow, his leg reattached, cleanly stitched back to his body. Besides him is a piece of paper and a few pieces of candy. You look closer at the note.

“Benny was especially brave during the operation. I gave them a few tokens for their courage. They learn well from you.

-Father”

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fics #edgeray.writes #edgeray.requests

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cemetarywoman · 4 months

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Bruce Wayne dating headcannons 🦇

-hes suchhh a sweetheart oml

-Bruce loves to spoil you in many different ways

-obviously he buys you a ton of gifts, like he will buy literally ANYTHING you want he doesn’t care how expensive

-like Bruce we GET ITTT UR RICH.

-if you dont like him buying you things then he’ll stop ofc, ik some people dont like when people but them stuff (i personally dont really like it)

-but he also spoils you with how much affection he gives you. Bruce isnt shy about telling you how much he appreciates and loves you.

-All of his free time is spent with you, he always wants you near him even if you guys aren’t talking or doing anything together

-hes big on physical touch, he just loves to hold your face in his hands, mindlessly run his fingers up and down your thighs, leave tiny kisses all over your neck, literally anything that involves showing you how much he loves you

-loves to keep his hand on your lower back in public so that you wont accidentally walk to far away from him

-hes very protective of you but its not in a toxic controlling way, he just knows how dangerous gotham is and hes always worried about you.

-although he is protective he also LOVES to show you off. He will take ANY chance he gets to tell people that he’s dating you

-(kindaa going back to the spoiling thing) he definitely has bought you a necklace with his initials on it

-and not only did he do that but he also got himself one with your initials on it so that people know hes yours💋

-Bruce is lowkey clingy asf like he want you to come with him everywhere

-he takes you to every event that he gets invited to and most of them as boring and full of old rich people, he will pay for all of your outfits for the events tho so that’s a plus🤗

-want you to live with him, like he has actually asked you to live with him multiple times as if youre not just two teenagers??

-but since you dont live together sleepovers happen frequently (he’ll sneak into your house and leave early in the morning so your parents dont see him)

-he knows that he can protect you so he will bring you with him when he goes on one of his dangerous adventures

-youre gonna have to deal with a lot of brooding because well we all know how Bruce can be 🤕

-but if you play with his hair and ask him whats wrong he cant help but spill his heart out to you

-everyone can tell how much he loves you when he actually tells you whats bothering him instead of suffering in silence

#gotham x reader #bruce wayne #gotham bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman x reader #batman #batman fanfiction #gotham bruce wayne x reader

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biteofcherry · 1 year

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A little slice of something sweet&spicy for @alexakeyloveloki on her bithday! 🍰🎉💗

A follow-up to Cherry

soft!dark enforcer Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: soft!dark Steve; hints of power imbalance; hint of innocence/corruption kink; hint of breeding kink; explicit se*ual situations;

You swallowed nervously as you walked up to the door of an expensive-looking house in the hills. The gate was wide open, two dark cars parked in the driveway. There was no sign of Steve's camaro, but maybe it was hidden in the huge garage in the separate building you passed.

The house looked like a renovated mid-century style and though you couldn't see it, you suspected there was a big swimming pool in the backyard.

The thought of which instantly created an image of Steve emerging from it - water dripping down his sculpted body, shimmering on the colorful ink of his tattoos.

You still haven't seen them, only the glimpse of those stretching up to his wrists and over his neck.

Jesus, you closed your eyes, once again feeling a wave of shame wash over you.

You met Steve two days ago. He was a complete stranger, with an aura of darkness that should make you run away.

Instead, you flew to him like a moth to a flame.

You allowed him to consume you the very first time you met him; hell, you were still trembling at the memory of the way he fucked you in his car, then right outside your apartment.

It could be just an adventure. A crazy one time thing you can brag about to your friends, for once having something really spicy to talk of.

But you kept the little piece of paper with Steve's address and dolled yourself up to meet him on the day he asked you.

Though the voice of reason yelled at you to at least have some doubts, you didn't hesitate for a single second as you put on a cute summer dress, a pair of bow sandals, and pink panties that already had a little wet spot, because you couldn't help thinking about what Steve was going to do to you on your date.

Nothing happened for a long moment after you rang the doorbell, your nervousness heightening in fear of being ignored. But then the door opened and you lifted up your gaze to look at a tall, bulky blonde man in what could be only described as surfer's style attire.

His long, wavy hair matched that vibe as well.

"Well, hello there." He grinned. "Whatever you're selling, I'm buying two of it."

A small laugh escaped your lips, which seemed to make the huge hunk's smile widen.

"I'm- um, I'm supposed to meet Steve," you explained, clenching your fingers tighter around your purse.

"Ah, the five o'clock meeting he wouldn't disclose the details of. Come on in." The guy moved aside to let you pass. "He's finishing a previous meeting, but I'm sure he'll be happy to know you're already waiting."

He led you through the sunny house to an ajar door, through which you could hear scraps of conversation.

Steve's voice you recognized right away.

He spoke firmer than when he was talking to you, giving clipped commands and harsh critique. You'd never want him to use that tone with you.

"Your next meeting is here." Surfer guy simply walked inside the office.

He moved to take a seat in one of the chairs, while you stood there in the open door like a deer caught in headlights.

You felt like that, too.

Because the moment you stepped in the doorway of the office, your eyes landed right on Steve.

He was sitting behind a desk, his dark green shirt unbuttoned halfway and the sleeves rolled up. More tattoos were on display, as well a tiny glint of a golden chain around his neck.

His blue eyes zeroed in on you; his gaze moved up your body slowly, taking every inch as if he was already imagining every single detail of what he was going to do to you and how will you look taking it all.

Then his attention shifted to a group of men sprawled on a couch on the side of the office.

"Your incompetence made me late for my date." He said to them and there wasn't even a slightest hint of playfulness to his tone.

He made it sound as if they did a severe offence to him and he was a step away from making them pay for it.

You had no idea what line of work Steve dabbed in, but it sounded like a serious business with dire consequences. Now you felt like you were an intruder who should leave, or else Steve's annoyance will shift to you.

However, when Steve's eyes returned to you, the steely glint in them morphed into softness.

"Come here, Cherry," he slid his chair back and motioned for you to walk over to him.

Your heartrate quickened as you felt eyes on you when you fully stepped inside. You tried not to glance at any of the other men in the room, instead allowing Steve to hold your gaze and lure you into his flame.

You let out a surprised gasp when Steve pulled you into his lap the moment you rounded the desk.

One of your hands touched his chest as you braced yourself at the sudden change in position. Steve's skin was warm beneath your fingers, dark blonde curls of his chest hair tickling your palm slightly.

You quickly moved your hand away, embarrassed that you touched him so openly while strangers were watching.

Steve didn't seem to mind it. He took your hand and lifted it to his lips to brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Then he placed your hand back on his chest, while his own landed on your thigh.

Unabashedly high, almost slipping beneath your sundress.

"You're exactly on time, Cherry. You really are a good girl, aren't you?" He mused quietly, squeezing your flesh.

"Yes, Steve," your gaze dropped down and you tucked in your chin.

Steve studied you for a moment longer then turned his attention back to the others in the room.

"You have your orders and you better follow them exactly." Cold edge of his voice made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck to avoid his wrath.

"Thor, make sure they make no mistakes this time. Now leave. All of you."

You didn't lift your head even after you heard the last footsteps fading away, your gaze lingering on the twirls of ink on Steve's chest as your own heart hammered in your ribcage.

You were acutely aware there was just the two of you now left. And as much as it was what you wanted, your nervousness bloomed.

Steve cupped your chin and made you look up at him.

"I'm sorry for running late on our date, Cherry. I promise that what I have planned should make it up to you."

"But-" suddenly his charming smile twisted into a hungry smirk as both of his hands slid to your hips- "those imbeciles have worked me up and I need to take the edge off before we leave."

In a swift single move he hoisted you up onto his desk.

"With how stiff and shy you are on me now, I think you need to get off, too."

He spread your legs apart - not that you put up much of a fight - and moved his chair closer.

Steve flipped the skirt of your dress up and traced his fingers across the pink cotton of your panties. He pressed his thumb against your clit, right above a small wet spot of your arousal.

"I see you're eager for our date," he chuckled, rubbing your clit harder and watching the wet stain spread.

Your hands clenched on the edge of the desk when Steve pulled the fabric of your panties aside and inched his mouth closer.

"I bet you're sweet all over, sweet Cherry."

He took a taste with a swipe of his tongue, licking between your slick folds and flicking the tip over your clit.

Your hips bucked and your head fell back when he repeated the motion, this time in three rapid strokes. Then his mouth descended on you, biting into your pussy as if it was a juicy fruit.

You weren't sure if you came when his tongue flicked between your opening and your anus, or when Steve's mouth closed around your clit and sucked. Or maybe it was two orgasms melting into one.

Your eyelids were clenched shut and your head swimming when his fingers curled around the front of your neck. With a hand around your throat, Steve pushed you back until you lied down on the desk fully, while he stood up.

A clink of a buckle being undone reached your mushy brain and your eyes fluttered open. Just to see Steve pushing his zipper down.

His cock sprang free; big and thick and veiny.

Your cunt clenched, hungry to feel the stretch of him leave you sore again.

Steve pumped himself a few times before inching forward between your splayed thighs.

"W-wait," your hand reached up as last, barely functioning brain cells reminded you of something important.

Steve paused, as you asked, squeezing his shaft tighter. The sight of it made you drool, your thoughts threatening to melt away. But you managed to stay focused for a second longer.

"Condom. Do you have- can you put one on?" You asked, looking up at Steve with uncertainty.

You wanted him to use one, but you weren't sure if you'd really be able to stop it all if he refused to. You wanted him inside of you too much.

"Condom?" Steve quirked a brow in surprise, studying you.

"Yes, please. I'm not on birth control," you admitted, gulping nervously.

Steve's blue eyes darkened as your words sank in. He stepped closer, bare cock inches from your dripping, unprotected pussy.

"Sweet Cherry, you let me take your pretty, tight pussy raw, even though you could've ended up pregnant?"

His voice was a sinful temptation and his dirty words made your walls clench around nothing.

"Yes," you admitted, ashamed.

"Why, hm?" He resumed slow strokes of his cock as he put his other hand right above your pussy, spreading his fingers wide on your abdomen and dipping his thumb between your folds.

Because I wanted you so bad.

Because I needed you inside me at any cost.

Because I liked that you branded me with your cum.

Because I didn't care what you do to me as long as you kept doing it.

"I don't know." You bit your bottom lip. "I wasn't thinking about the consequences. I wasn't thinking at all. I just- I want to be responsible now."

"What a good, smart girl you are," Steve praised, brushing his thumb along your clit.

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a short strip of foil packets. He ripped one open and rolled a condom on.

His hand returned to your throat as he pressed the head of his cock against your slick opening.

"We'll be responsible, Cherry," he leaned over you and kissed you softly.

"For now," he added in a dark rasp while thrusting deep into you.

And then he took you, with the same unrelenting force that left you boneless and moaning. Steve praised that you sounded sweet and needy; you thought you sounded more of a whore. You didn't care anyway, because the way he was making you feel was maddening good.

You came around him once, the second climax Steve forced out of you with a hand choking the air out of you and a pinch to your clit.

He finished with a groan; lips parted and face flushed, possessive glint in his eyes as he watched you twitch beneath him.

If he wasn't planning on keeping to his promise and taking you out on a proper, nice date, he wouldn't empty into the condom, but instead withdraw from your sweet cunt and come all over your pretty sundress.

But Steve was a man of his word.

So he tossed the used rubber into the bin, helped you clean yourself up, then readjusted your dress and helped your wobbly legs walk outside.

He could ruin you more when he took you back home later.

#alexakeyloveloki #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #enforcer!steve rogers #enforcer!steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #steve fic: cherry #my writing

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