#just pure runt

[katerinaaqu]

Have you seen the new epic saga, it's something alright lmao

Of course I haven't seen it given that I never followed the live streaming to begin with not even in the first two sagas that I genuinely liked, much less now but a friend wanted to fill me in and since you asked and I wanted to be accurate, I tormented myself for almost 16 minutes to listen to the plot changes that I was told there would be and I am like

WHAT THE FUCK DID I HEAR?!!!!!!!!

I am sorry but again speakig purely on plot of course because honestly the music is really solid as always and the singers were amazing to transfer the emotions they wanted to transfer. Loved some of the melodies given, for example the intro of Charybdis was my favorite part I think but I am like HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT ALMOST ABSOLUTELY NOTHING OF THE FREAKING ODYSSEY IS IN THIS SAGA?!!!!!! Like he just kept the bare minimum again!

Sorry for the runt but yeah here goes:

"Not sorry for loving you"=> After all that backlash that song got even from the most loyal Epic fans he still kept it. I mean I admire his loyalty to his ideas but like he should have known that the song was not a good idea. I mean it was almost clear from the song's ideas that Jorge would dodge the subject of SA and that he would leave his fans guessing (smart move gotta give him that) at first given the suicide attempt Odysseus make but now it seems almost clear that he would want to dodge the subject just like he dodged the Circe thing it is just that right now he couldn't do it as blatantly because Calypso was an infamous moment of the Odyssey And of course the "I love you" Odysseus said...I said it before and I say it again it reminds me a blunt way to translate the reconsiliation of Odysseus and Calypso in the Odyssey. Okay even Odyssey was interesting in that (see my other analysis) even Homer uses the phrase "they rested by each other's side enjoying their closeness" so in one way even Homer seems to be implying that Odysseus forgives her and even tries to see it from her point of view but honestly what else could he do? Hold a grudge? A day before he would be FINALLY given the tools to make a raft? I think not. It almost felt like Odysseus felt sorry for Calyspo for one second in the Odyssey, when Calypso, a literal goddess, compared herself to his wife. It was an almost pity move on his part at that moment. Dunno what the musical wanted to do with this but this was not the way to do it! All the context of their talk and all was lost! If anything he tried to use a made-up thing, AGAIN to show some compassion for Calyspo. Calypso was already a lonely deity. That tragedy was enough for her. She didn't need any more tear-jerking stories for people to feel for her more in my opinion (kinda like whatever PJO did if I am not mistaken...either way yeah...)

"Dangerous"=> You know...at this point I am not even surprised that he made Hermes and Odysseus interract....like that would be my least of my problems. He does make Odysseus interract with all the gods under the sun in the musical even if Odysseus only interracts with is Hermes at Circe's island ONLY and Athena in the Odyssey and that after he has been through everything! Either way of course we would have Hermes there but like again with all the things we have from "video game logic" or whatever he wants to do...Hermes gives him another bag?! like I have no idea what is going on here! The only thing I would praise here is the emotional preparation for a possible reunion with Athena given how Hermes doesn't tell Odysseus who helped him so maybe he has an emotional load there.

"Charybdis"=> Okay for starters.....WHAT THE FUCK?! What is Charybdis doing AFTER Ogygia?! Not even a flashback!? (and I was wondering where the "Hermes told me" thing came from in that preview) Like where is that damn desperation of Odysseus having to face Charybdis right after he lost everyone?! Alone and hungry in the sea after a terrible storm that took away his men?! I also love it really how everyone thought originally that at least Charybdis would be accurate to the text and everyone was making their analysis and "look how fighting he is here compared to after when he wants to throw himself in the sea in Ogygia" and now it is clear that this thing came AFTER Ogygia for some reason. Like I am not even surprised anymore that some of the most iconic moments of the Odyssey were twisted. It almost seems deliberate at this point like "yeah let's change exactly the most iconic parts" that's why Circe was changed, Sirens were changed, Skylla was changed, Charybdis was changed...even the storm after the Helios island... The intro slaps no lie there but honest I have expressed my opinion on that before and got in trouble but I think that moment of desperation shouldn't be a fucking epic song. It was a man hanging for dear life from a tree! Trying his best not to die! (made also one small thing here) And like I get it, if someone sees that escape as "epic" for being so dramatic and impressive, I get it. have epic music in the background but what on earth with the lyrics? Like "destroy you"?! Really? or "bring it on!" like the last thing Odysseus wanted in the Odyssey was Charybdis to...bring it on! Lol! You may as well speak on the "I'm still fightng here" thing, I totally get it why, but to actually challenge the beast seems totally random. But then again I guess it fits more with THIS context given how he thinks he is now favored by the gods? In the Odyssey he was alone abandoned by all and everything with no hope left so I guess...

"Get in the Water"=> Like okay I have seen this in more replays than I can count from the very beginning from the demos till now. Ironically out of this whole thing it could be lowkey my favorite! Lol! Mainly because it fits the Odyssey PARTIALLY (yeah again Poseidon never wanted to kill Odysseus. That was written straight out in the freaking Odyssey! Even 1997 version that was inacurate as hell in many things did that right!). I would have loved it if this song was Poseidon having a monolog and Odysseus having his cries like "oh no!" or prayers as a second monolog. Like not actually interracting but have two parallel monologs! This trope is not used much and I wish I saw it more. Like Odysseus praying to Poseidon but Poseidon doing his thing alone and the two not having a dialog to each other. Apart from that the song was as we expected so far. Maybe the last part had me a bit iked but again I feel like it would be massively fixed if the two characters had parallel monologs and not actually interracting. I also love it how casually we have Odysseus accuse Poseidon in this saga for destroying his men while he CONSCIOUSLY killed the last of those himself.

"600 strikes"=> I'm sorry but....WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST SEE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?! Like I am sorry never felt like good music was so wasted in my entire life ever since the Siren fiasco! Like the song is amazing musically but what the hell did just happen?!?!?!?!?! For starters the underworld has a bus service apparently and all come up... I feel like Jorge uses this as a pattern at this point. When scenes like the underworld attracted so much fans and emotions from people who praised his choice to bring the ghosts and the voices up he wants to use it every time to focus on emotional load in a similar manner (like I said never followed him for real so I am not sure how much of it was planned before and how much of it was done on the way). But yeah of course we would expect the appearance especially with the hype at Love in Paradise. But excuse the fuck out of me WHAT!? Odysseus beating up Poseidon with his FUCKING TRIDENT with the power of friendship?! LOL! I have no idea what to take of this! We do know humans fought gods before (Diomedes looking at you) but ironically to my knowledge NEVER THE BIG THREE! Like you know...fucking ZEUS POSEIDON AND HADES?!? The three main pillars of the world (Heaven Earth Underworld)?! I don't think I ever loved a lyric so much (Odysseus admitting what he became from his trip) and so cringe at the same time (Fucking POSEIDON begging for mercy?! and calling him "monster" for fighting back?!" I am not sure to which to cringe first). Is this supposed to be the part where Odysseus redeems himself against Poseidon?! To dodge the fact that Tiresias DIDN'T give him instructions to break the curse?! So basically Odysseus redeems himself for what he did...by stabbing a fucking god?! Like...remember how Diomedes was cursed by the narrative for stabbing fucking Aphrodite after fucking ATHENA ordered him to?! Yeah right that works! What the hell?! And the final part was supposed to be some sort of redemption from the pattern "All I hear are screams"?! Like "how will you seel at night?" and the response "next to my wife"?! Is that supposed to be the last of the "all I hear are screams" pattern?! Is this supposed to be the ultimate "monster move" of Odysseus or something?! And of course we had to have an encore from the previous bag of winds scene as well like yeah once more the god Poseidon the fucking literal god of seas and land inhabited by humans, the guy who has the epithet Προσκλύστιος (Prosklystios)= the one who strikes against (to imply the waves) was taken down by a bag of winds?! I mean yeah makes total sense!

You know...it almost feels like Jorge read my fanfiction with his men supporting him against the Trojans! Looooool just kidding I just am too shook by the random things that come out of that magic hat! Like yeah Odysseus swimming, literally SWIMMING for two days in a fucking storm to reach Scheria was not epic enough apparently...we needed some sort of final boss god fight here...like Hades game or something like yeah...what's next?! Odysseus will shoot fucking ZEUS with his bow with the blessings of Athena to get even in thenext saga?!

Also of course we have sped up plot again because screw the Phaeaceans, the very reason Odysseus even TELLS HIS STORY! The one we could have his redemption, his cry and the move of compassion from them (not to mention it makes so much more sense than someone traveling on a freaking RAFT from Calyspo's island all the way to Ithaca since the Phaeaces gave him a ship and all) unless they somehow pop up later which I doubt... I also heard that the storm or whatever is signifying Penelope the coming home of her husband? Not sure again not following but yeah

To conclude as always music-wise really solid work very good harmonies and by n large very good intros

Plot wise

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Again I deeply apologize on the Epic fans out there and even to the creator himself if I sound harsh! I know but still...I just cannot anymore...the plot is like killing me!

and these are my PERSONAL OPINIONS! If you love it good for you guys! I just had enough of it really. Is it impressive? HELL YEAH is it creative ABSOLUTELY!! is it good? To me absolutely not! Honest never expected to say that but I think the "Get in the Water" is the song that makes the most sense out of it.

PS: I am sure the animators did a FANTASTIC JOB in their work too! And I believe I will see impressive stuff from now on! The same good job as the singers did!

[thegreatyin]

HELL YEAH POWER ENDING SEEKERS ARE MY FAVORITE MR CARDS GENRE i mean they're all my favorite because i legitimately love seeing different people's interpretations of the power ending and the weird fucked up (the fucked up part is important, one must always make their bat fucked up) OCs they make as a result of it. but also i think there's a lot of really fun stuff one can do with a human who deliberately chooses to discard said humanity in order to ascend as a potential replacement for the very figure they're desperately Seeking to learn about and potentially avenge. i'm always kinda surprised it's not more common tbh?? nemesis and BaL just (very very understandably) lend themselves more obviously to seekers i suppose

also that alt strategy is totally valid. it's basically what i pulled with caeru's account all the way back before finishing heart's desire + a not insignificant chunk of evolution. have fun with the dream collecting :)

[nostalgia-tblr]

You know, a lot of Loki fandom wank could be avoided if people just stopped assuming that everything Mobius says is definitely the literal truth and that he would never tell lies for whatever reason (like to GET A REACTION!) and can never just be wrong about things.

[nathaniacolver]

the complement to short king is literally tall princess & idk why that's so hard for some people to understand

On the topic of short Link, here's your forced reminder that Link is smaller than Zelda in

Wind Waker

Twilight Princess

A Link Between Worlds

Breath Of The Wild / Age Of Calamity/ Tears Of The Kingdom

Hell even in the ORIGINAL Legend Of Zelda she looks like.. a pixel taller than him.. maybe...

Every time you draw Link taller than Zelda Eiji Aonuma cries. I've seen it, you guys, he just bursts into tears.

[wriokitty]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[stargirlrchive]

cw: simon buys you a gift! like this is pure fluff,, domestic, sweet simon <333

simon’s stomach tightened as he quietly shushed the puppy in his arms. and despite how much responsibility it came with, he could not get your face out of his mind.

red-rimmed and wide-eyed as you wailed over a video you saw on tiktok, something about a dog being reunited with its owner after 3 years? he couldn’t recall exactly what you were crying about but you were inconsolable as you cried into his chest about how you wanted a dog.

and he knew you got lonely while he was away, he figured a baby pup would do you well.

“gotta keep quiet.”

the puppy’s head tilted to the side as if wondering what he was saying before letting out an excited bark as simon slipped him into his puffer jacket.

the small animal squirmed against his chest but ultimately stayed quiet, as if he knew to do so.

simon’s feet moved quickly, excitedly, through the halls to get to you. you were in the kitchen, hips swaying as you listened to music and cooked. you didn’t bother turning around when you heard him approaching.

“hi, baby.”

simon made his way to you, pressing a kiss to the back of your head as he mumbled quietly, “got somethin’ f’r you.”

your smile evident in your voice as you asked, “what is it?”

you turned in his arms, brows pinching as something moved inside of simon’s jacket. it was followed by the sound of a soft whine, and your eyes instantly widened.

“you didn’t-”

simon unzipped his jacket before you could say anything else, the cutest little pup comfortably resting on his chest, poking its little head out to look at you.

a choked out noise leaving your throat as you reached for him, “for me?”

simon’s laugh rumbled through his chest as you cradled the dog. the pup perked up in your arms, pressing his wet nose against your face and neck as he squirmed with utter excitement.

your eyes had pooled with tears, staring at the puppy with a quivering lip as you tried your hardest to not cry out of sheer happiness.

“why are you crying, love? aren’t you happy?”

the harsh sob that had been threatening to leave your mouth finally broke as you nodded, through heavy sniffles and choked words all simon could make out was, “he’s just so cute.”

simon did his best to hide the laugh that threatened to leave him with a cough, pulling you in to wrap you up in his arms, the puppy now calmly settled between the two of you as you sniffled.

your face turned upwards as you stared at simon, your hair was sticking to your face from the tears, eyes swollen and glossy as you pressed a kiss to his mouth.

“thank you, baby. where did you find him?”

simon’s fingers moved to cradle your face, pushing your hair back as he placed a kiss to your temple.

“went to a shelter, he was the runt of the litter and all the other pups had been adopted, ‘long with his momma.”

and really, simon should’ve known to not say something so utterly heartbreaking. but he didn’t think.

not until a distressed noise left your mouth, your hands tightening protectively against the now sleeping puppy as a fresh set of tears began pouring down your face.

[pedgito]

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Joel doesn't have a Mrs. but he does have a sports car.

author's note | @chaotic-mystery made me listen to sports car and i said you know what? yeah. this one's especially feral, sorry in advance.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, no outbreak au, girthy age gap, car talk, sad hot grieving dads gone wild, daddy kink, more specifically daddy issues, mutual mas, no touch rules, cum eating, pure filth

word count — 5k

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Your tongue rolls over your teeth inside of your mouth as you stare with folded arms, phone clutched tightly in your hand as you wait eagerly for your driver to arrive and get you the hell out of here.

“Stunning,” You offer a forced smile, watching as your date lingered around the old car, pristine and well-cared for, an unattainable feat for such an immature man-child like himself.

It was the last time you were allowing your friends to set you up on a blind date, nearing the point of swearing off dating entirely, knowing that a man who couldn’t even cover half the check wasn’t driving around in a classic Pontiac, let alone affording the upkeep for it.

“Sure you don’t wanna change your mind?” He asks eagerly, the subtle admiration of the car waning as he comes into view, knowing the old beater a few spots down was surely his.

The bells above the convenience store next door jingle as people enter and exit, taking another impatient glance at your phone. You watch as the boy takes a seat against the hood and it makes you cringe internally, swallowing your words as an even deeper voice interjects from behind.

“I’ll give you about three seconds to get your ass of my hood,” The older man threatened, spinning the keys in his palm as he set the six pack of beer on the roof, the younger kid scrambled to his feet instantly, “—is he botherin’ you?”

“Unfortunately,” You mumble as you take another glance at your phone and curse under your breath, watching the unmoving dot on the screen.

“Get outta here, kid,” The mystery man barks, “looks like you already ruined her night and I don’t need some runt like you fuckin’ up my car.”

You both watch as he sulks to his car, just as you suspected, your lips pulling into a thin line to stifle the laugh that built in your chest, feeling lighter for the first time that night.

“Does that happen often?” You ask curiously, watching as he fiddled with his door before the lock popped and the door swung open, the six pack of beer carefully placed in the passenger seat as he rose back up to answer your question, hands curled around the edge of the roof.

“Ever since I fixed her up,” He pauses, recollecting, “probably a once a week ordeal. They’re easy to run off, fortunately. You waitin’ on something?”

“My ride,” You wobble your phone back and forth weakly and Joel squints, shaking his head as he winces at the guttural backfire of the engine in the car behind him, the final memory of your absolutely awful date as he disappears down the road.

“Kid had a car and couldn’t even bother to pick you up or take you home?” He asks curiously, strangely not unsettled by his openness to conversation given his gruff exterior, “Some nerve.”

“It was a blind date,” You shrug, “My friends they—”

“Those ain’t friends,” He interrupts politely, “if they set you up with a guy like that.”

“Well, maybe—” Your words linger, shifting from foot to foot as the conversation dies out and your feet begin to ache, the summer heat making you uncomfortable, the silk fabric of your dress sticking to your skin as you wipe at your damp cheek and push your hair behind your ear.

“Hop in,” He tells you, stooping into his car as he closes the door, his waiting gaze staring up at you through the window, “I can give you a ride.”

“I…don’t know,” You answer uneasily, “I don’t even know you.”

“I’m Joel,” He answers almost immediately, “I’m not a genius but I figure you had a shitty date, no sense in you paying for a ride home if I can offer one. Chivalry ain’t that dead, sweetheart.”

You offer him your name quietly, approaching the car with some hesitation. 

He seemed like an honest enough man, swooping in like a knight in shining armor.

You’ve given worse men a fairer chance—so, fuck it.

–

“My dad had a car like this,” You perk up after a few minutes, the glass bottles clinking against each other from where they sat by your feet, between your legs, “not a ‘67—was a ‘69.”

“You know your shit?” Joel asks curiously, his left hand settled over the top of the steering wheel while his right was settled against the gear shift, “He teach you about ‘em?”

Oddly, conversation with Joel was easy. A similar interest, neither of you with any room to judge one another. Equals.

“I pestered him alot,” You admit, “I was supposed to end up with it but he sold it before he died. God, what I wouldn’t give—”

“She is a beaut,” Joel admits, giving a soft tap to the dashboard, “and a labor of love.”

“She? What’s her name?” You ask knowingly, the slightest hint of a smirk on your face.

He spoke so fondly of the car, as if it breathed life into him. It wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

“Sarah,” He offers up more subdued, but a soft smile graces his face for a brief moment, “s’long story, doesn’t matter.”

“My dad named his Jameson,” You say suddenly in an attempt to add some levity, “funny, since my dad was an alcoholic…”

Okay, maybe not funny, but Joel gives you a pity chuckle anyways. 

Luckily, your nervous admittance is quickly looked over.

“So, where’m I takin’ you?”

You chew at your bottom lip and glance sheepishly at Joel.

“Um…UT?”

“Goddamn, that’s like—”

“An hour away, yeah,” You sigh, “I won’t be upset if you want to stop at the next gas station, I have the money for a ride, it isn’t that big of a—”

“I’m about five minutes up the road,” Joel begins, fingers flexing lazily ahead as they raise from the steering wheel, “I’ve got a spare room, I can take you up there in the morning.”

“You’re a total stranger, you know?”

“There’s a motel just a ways up,” Joel suggested with ease.

Though as you approach it looks bleak, the fluorescent lights blinking overhead and a glaring spot for much more nefarious activity with the perfectly placed strip club across the road, feeling the car pull to a slow stop.

“I…think I’ll take you up on that spare room,” You stutter out.

Joel nods, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he shifts gears and pulls back onto the road. 

The flickering neon lights of the seedy motel fade in the rearview mirror.

“That place ain't fit for anyone, let alone a young lady like yourself."

“I’m not young,” You retort, ‘I’m twenty-three.”

“And I’m as old as this car,” Joel retorts, watching your face scrunch up in thought as you did the mental math in your head before he puts you out of your misery, “I’m fifty-eight, sweetheart.”

Pushing sixty? Big deal.

You’ve had older professors flirting with you inappropriately on a weekly basis, at least Joel was being polite and kind and not at all as sleazy as most men, at least, not yet.

You stare at him without his knowledge, his eyes focused intently on the road. He’s rugged, facial hair thick and unevenly covering his face, plush lips parting as his tongue swiped along his bottom lip, a permanent scowl on his rather softened expression. 

He’s devastatingly attractive. 

And there’s something about him that comforts you, a remnant of protection despite the unconventional circumstance of finding yourself in a stranger’s care after a terrible date on the way to an unfamiliar place.

Eventually, the car slows, rumbling into a small cul de sac with four other houses surrounding his own, certainly picturesque and not what you would suspect from a man like him. He cuts the engine dead as he pulls into his driveway and wordlessly leans his body over the center console, a hand snaking between your spread legs as he reaches for the six-pack of beer.

“Home sweet home,” He jokes lightly, “C’mon.”

With trepidation and a sudden heat to your face as he peers up at you for a moment while his hand is settled between your thighs, you nod.

Please don’t be a fucking serial killer, you think. 

A silent prayer said to anyone that would listen.

-

He’s a perfect gentleman, fortunately. 

Joel gives you a short tour, displaying the spare room at the end of the hall, an attached bathroom and plenty of escape routes—he seems to sense the unease still as it lingers.

“You said twenty-three, right?” He double checks, “You want a beer? Or water? I got some soda, too.”

“Beer is fine,” You answer with a nod, turning on your heels to follow him back down the hall and toward the kitchen, watching as Joel flicked on the overhead light above the kitchen island and pulled two beers from the cardboard casing.

He pops the caps off with ease before he’s pushing the beer into your hand and taking a sip of his own, leading you toward the dining room as he pulls out a chair for you and him, a comfortable distance as his legs spread out when he sits, the glass resting against his denim covered knee.

“So your daddy, he taught you a lot about cars?”

“How to take care of ‘em,” You explain, “What’s good, what’s shit. I’ve got a soft spot for the classics, you know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like them fast, too.”

“Smart girl,” Joel notes, but then he lingers for a moment and watches as you sip gingerly at your beer, “I’m curious—and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but what happened back there? Other than that kid makin’ a complete ass of himself?”

The comment should not make your insides twist the way they do, a faint throb between your legs that you hide with a cough and another long sip, “He’s just…not great. And the gesture was there, he tried paying for the date, but then his card declined and, well…”

“Sounds like a real winner,” He mocks, taking a hefty sip before the liquid is gone, sliding the empty glass along the dinner table.

“He’s not my type, anyways,” You shrug, finishing off your own beer and mirroring his actions, watching as he silently grabbed the bottles and stood up, disposing of them in the nearby trash.

Joel makes an unintelligible noise as he shakes his head, “And what exactly would that be?”

You hum thoughtfully, “A V8 engine for starters, some real hefty horsepower, a nice spacy interior,”

“Damn, just my type,” Joel plays along, “I like that you know your shit—you savin’ up for one?”

A car, he means.

 Given that you were attempting to find a ride home, it seemed like a valid question.

“Trying, sure.” You shrug nonchalantly, “It’s more of a dream anymore, college isn’t exactly the cheapest.”

A beat passes as Joel slips back into his seat and you pull your bare feet up into the chair, curling your arms around your knees loosely before you speak again.

“Serious answer—I don’t date boys my age ever. I was only entertaining it because my friends wouldn’t shut up about it. They’re usually older; thirties, forties. You can judge me—I get it.”

“Ain’t nothing to judge,” Joel shrugs, “You like what you like.”

“And you?”

Joel laughs at that, looking away briefly as you smile, poking his thigh with your foot as he thinks for a moment, eyes dragging toward the floor.

“I’m too old for that shit—ain’t nothing for me.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” You tell him honestly, knowing that most of the girls would be ripping each other’s throats out for a moment with him, the perfect amount of mysterious and dark, a hint of southern gentleman in the way he carries himself, a total fucking smoke show.

You knew just how deadly you’d be vying for a chance with him.

And here he was, like an offering plopped right into your lap.

Besides, you were having a bad night, what else did you have to lose?

“That so?” Joel seemed to be testing the waters too, a playfulness in his eyes that was deeply subdued but there, simmering. He wasn’t going to try anything unless you initiated, lucky for him, you were more than eager by now.

“Oh, I know so,” You nod with confidence, “Nice car—you got that whole dark and mysterious thing going for you and you’re hot, s’not like I’m blind, Joel.”

“Is there somethin’ you’re gettin’ at, sweetheart?” Joel asks curiously.

You shrug, a mischievous grin crossing your face.

You’ve had plenty of one night stands; terrible dates with half-decent sex.

You spent two hours getting ready, another getting to dinner, and you’d be damned to waste such a good opportunity when it presented itself.

“I had a shit night and you’ve already managed to make it better,” You admit, “I’m just sayin’ as a thank you, we could—”

“I’m not askin’ for a thank you, sweetheart,” His voice is immediately softer, alluring.

His brow twitches as you lock eyes, like a moment of consideration crosses his mind, large palms splayed out against even larger thighs, the type that made you curious.

He had the body of a man well-worked; a mix of someone who’s aged with grace and maintained his lifestyle through work, broad shoulders that begged to be explored, stretching as he fidgeted in his chair.

“If I told you I wanted you to fuck me, would you?”

Joel speaks your name aloud and you smile sheepishly, though he knows it was an act, feeling a little braver with a few shots of liquid courage from earlier in the night and a beer to loosen your nerves further.

You were staring at the veins in his hands now, calloused fingers rubbing at a soft, flayed spot in his jeans, right above the knee, tanned skin hiding underneath. 

“It’s not a question of would I, honey. I can’t.”

So, he would.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“I’m gonna save you the regret—besides, I got a few rules for myself, and if not allowing myself to touch you when we just met is one of ‘em, I think that’s fair.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You goad, feet dropping slowly to the ground between his widened legs, “Do you want me to touch you? Is that against the rules?”

Joel knows there’s no benefit in lying.

“‘Course I think you’re pretty but you sure got a mouth,” Joel comments, fingers flexing against his thigh as he leans back in his chair, letting out a long breath through his nose as he peers over at you, “I’m willin’ to do a lot more than touch, sweetheart. But, not like this, not tonight.”

“I’m not drunk,” You defend, “C’mon, Joel. I got all dressed up tonight and I’m askin’,”

Half a second short of begging.

“Sweetheart,” He warns, “M’not gonna,”

“Then touch yourself,” You encourage, “let me watch.”

“Now, what makes you think—”

Your straps droop down your shoulders, one adjustment short of your breasts spilling out of your dress as your head nods toward his subtle adjustment between his legs, pulling slightly at the denim suffocating his growing erection.

He’s got a beautiful girl presenting herself to him, one more no away from dropping to her knees to wallow, lips parted as you breathed out softly, thighs separating so far that Joel catches the quickest glimpse of your thin panties, nearly see-through with how wet you were, your hands squeezing at the fabric near the end of your dress like a nervous tic.

Joel wasn’t blind either.

“You were going to do it after I went to sleep, weren’t you?

“You’re stubborn as hell, girl—”

“I bet it’s big,” You throw from left-field, a smirk growing on your face, “I love sucking cock, Joel. It’s my favorite thing—s’not a rule break, right? If I touch you and you keep your hands to yourself? Do you want me on my knees? Wanna see what I look like with your cock in my mouth?”

His jaw clenches, watching the muscle strain underneath his skin as he clears his throat.

“Don’t be shy—”

“I”m not shy.”

Then?

Your eyebrows raise in question, your dress pulling slowly up your thighs, legs widening with the movement before Joel finally relents, the deafening sound of his zipper pulling a soft giggle from your chest as you wiggle with excitement.

Joel's hand hesitates for a moment before he reaches into his pants, shoving them far enough down his thighs, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pulls out his hardening cock, watching him swell in the loose grip of his palm. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it—thick and veiny, an easy seven inches, a heavy set of balls to match as his fingers roll along the tight skin and up, his fingers drifting featherlight over his cock.

“This what you wanted?” Joel asks, low and throaty, a strain to his tone.

You nod eagerly, bottom lip pulling between your teeth as your hands settle beside you, gripping the chair so hard it creaks, legs spread wide instinctually, making room for him despite his distance, your dress slipping far enough down your chest that your breasts were on display.

Soft peaks, nipples hardened in the cool air, your chest rising with slow breaths as you arch yourself forward slightly, his hand keeping a slow, teasing pace as his thumb drags over the thick head and against the slit.

Your eyes flicker between Joel’s face and his tight grip around his cock, watching as he strokes himself with slow intent, belt jingling with the movement as he pushes his shirt up with the other hand, his own eyes trading between different parts of your body.

He’d suckle at your skin if he could, trail his tongue from mouth to cunt, have you a shaking, sobbing mess if he allowed himself the luxury, but he was a man wallowing in his own self-made torture and the energy in the air was palpable, thick with tension.

“Closer,” He groans out lowly, nodding his head in a jerky motion as his free hand beckons you near, “Spread your legs, sweetheart—lemme see you.”

You give him far more than he asks, standing slowly before you’re hooking your fingers in the fabric at your hips and pulling down, letting the damp fabric drop to your feet before you’re leaning down to pick it up, tossing your panties into Joel’s lap before you return to your seat.

One foot propped against the chair, your dress bunches at your hips, giving him a perfect view of your glistening cunt as you spread your fingers through your folds, a teasing touch.

Blindly, Joel grabs at the fabric and wraps it around his cock, like a vice, he squeezes tight.

Joel's eyes darken, pupils dilating as he takes in the sight before him. His grip tightens around your panties, the damp fabric adding a new, chest-tightening sensation as he strokes himself harder. A low groan escapes his lips, his gaze fixed on your fingers as they tease through your slick folds.

“You too scared to fuck a college girl?” You tease him, “‘Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Smart ass mouth, girl,” He gripes, “S’like your daddy never taught you any manners.”

“Oh, ‘cause I’m sure you could’ve,” You reply flippantly, gasping as your finger catches along your fluttering hole, a groan rumbling deep in Joel’s chest as he jerks his cock.

“I ain’t your daddy,” He reminds you.

You shake your head nonchalantly, “No you’re not. Could–could be, though. “What do you want? For me to pout and call you daddy?”

“Careful,” he warns, his voice rough with desire, “That’s a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You hum at the words, a faint flutter in your chest.

If you stopped to think about what was happening you would psych yourself out completely, so you lean back further, arching yourself forward as you slide two fingers inside yourself. "I don’t mind playing," you moan, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before locking back onto Joel’s.

Joel's breath catches in his throat, his hand faltering for a moment as he watches you sink your fingers deeper into your wet cunt, the soft squelch paired with your innocent sounds.

He scowls as he squeezes his shaft, “Christ, girl,” He grunts, “Tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?”

You shake your head impishly, “Temptin’ you,” You admit, “Is it working?”

“You know damn well,” Joel says tensely, forcing the words through his teeth as his fingers slide up and squeeze at the head of his cock, precum slick against his fingers as he uses it to add to the friction, his eyes roaming hungrily over your body, “fuckin’ look at you, so goddamn eager.”

“That right, daddy?” You ask breathily, giggling with the word as Joel looks like he could explode, his other hand cupping his balls to keep him busy, knowing if he lingered with his thoughts for too long he’d fuck you into the chair without an ire of hesitation, his eyes close as his head leans back.

“Is that what you need? Someone carin’ for you?” He asks, “Is that why you’re actin’ out?”

The way his hand moves against his cock is mesmerizing, the flex of his wrist as he jerks his cock in a practiced manner, something he undoubtedly does weekly, squeezing his sack gently in his hand as his chest rumbles quietly.

“Eyes up, sweetheart,” He chastises, “I’m askin’ you a question, answer it.”

You nod weakly, a frown forming on your face as you whimper, the softest graze of your fingertip over your clit as your body spasms, gasping at the feeling.

“Words, ‘hon,” He encourages, his own voice wavering slightly.

“Y—yes,” You answer quickly.

Joel chuckles deeply, “S’good. Good girl, sweetheart. You wanna spread those legs for daddy then?” 

Obediently, they do, presenting your glistening cunt to him as you fingers slip out, wet with slick and Joel licks at his bottom lip, mouth watering at the sight.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” He murmurs endearingly, a slight smirk stretching across his face at the sight, “—won’t even touch you and you’re mess, been like that since you got in my car, huh?”

You nod weakly, sighing as your fingers circle lazily over your clit.

“Taste ‘em,” He encourages, “clean ‘em up.”

Your fingers, he means.

Like some magnetic pull, you find your fingers pressing against your tongue without thinking and the tangy sweetness melts against your tongue, his breath shuddering as you licked your fingers clean, cunt pulsing with need, silently pleading for Joel.

His eyes narrow, darkening with lust as his hand speeds up around his cock, obscene sounds matching his heady words, neck straining as he grunts, “That’s it, sweetheart. Listenin’ to your daddy—M’fuck—fuckin’ close.”

Through your bleary haze, you nod with the same sentiment, speaking softly, “Metoometoo—”

His movements are more fumbling, quick and furious jerks of his cock that still at the head as he squeezes, his face scrunching up in a mix of frustration and desperation, trying harder than he’s ever had to not shoot his load too soon.

“Yeah? Show me,” He encourages, goading as his unoccupied hand twists into his shirt and hastily pulls it up and over his head, “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

They spread impossibly wider, your hand reaching behind your head to grip onto the chair as your ass slips near the edge, circling your fingers over your clit without much precision, knowing that one more word from his mouth and you’d be drooling all over the seat.

“So fuckin’ desperate, look at you,” He demeans, “Poor little girl with daddy issues, huh?”

You moan shakily, avoidant of his obviously goading question, eyes fluttering closed as your orgasm crept in slow, mumbling out the words without even thinking, “Please—please can I—daddy, can I—”

“S’alright, we’ll fix that,” Joel comments softly, his voice a low growl, “Go on, sweetheart, come for me.”

The feeling is instant, his permission all you need to melt over the edge, legs shaking through the mind-numbing sensation your climax brings, chest tightening as you gasp, fingers working frantically over your clit as Joel’s name slips from your mouth.

Distantly, you hear him groan, his orgasm overtaking him at the sight of you writhing in your chair, spilling over his tight fist as thick, milky ropes of cum spread across his chest and down the underside of his cock, his eyes falling shut. 

As your breathing slows, your thighs pull together, shrinking impossibly small into the chair in a sudden overwhelming feeling of shame. Shame that you had shared an intimate moment like this with a man you barely knew all because you had a terrible night and shame over how easily he had made you come, like it was natural.

Despite the obvious, Joel doesn’t miss a beat.

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face and he beckons you forward. Finally.

“On your knees, sweetheart,” He instructs as your body moves without much protest, sliding to the floor as your dress pools at your hips, not amiss to the way Joel’s eyes follow the subtle bounce of your breasts as you move between his spread legs, his erection flagging but your tongue peeks out eagerly, licking at the head of his cock as your hands curls around his calves for support, “S’not—hey,” He hisses, “you were listenin’ so good until now.”

He’s salty and sweet, a taste so inviting that you needed more. It made your mouth water, tongue swiping against your bottom lip as your eyes fell on the opaque liquid covering his stomach.

Unfortunately, he still wouldn’t touch you.

He runs a hand through his hair while the other rests against the table, balled into a fist as you shake your head shyly, removing your hands from his legs.

“Sor—sorry,” You stutter, uncertainty evident in your voice.

Joel’s eyebrows raise, an unspoken bond quickly forming between you both.

“Try again.

“M’sorry, daddy—what can—,” You gulp audibly, fidgeting nervously with the silk fabric at your waist, “how can I make it up to you?”

Joel glances down at his stomach, still covered in cum as he breathes, watching the liquid drop down his skin and to his softening cock, still intimidatingly large even as it rests against his thigh, “Why don’t you clean me up? Can you do that?”

You nod eagerly, darting forward immediately as your tongue glided along his skin, into the small patch of hair above his groin and to his belly button, hearing Joel groan as the chair creaks with his shifting weight, struggling against his own forced restraint as you lick the cooled cum off his skin, eyes flicking up to look at him, dangerously innocent.

A facade, he knows. But, he’s in fucking trouble.

“That’s it,” Joel coos, “Clean me up good, baby.”

You giggle softly, dragging the tip of your tongue along the last bit of his cum before you drag up the center, barely reaching his face before you pull away, a soft huff of breath hitting you in the face as Joel shakes his head and chuckles, looking away from you briefly.

“Still not gonna touch me?” You tease him, quietly pulling your dress back up your body and over your shoulders, fingers adjusting the strap as he turns back to look at you.

“I’m tryin’ to be respectful here, sweetheart. And you’re makin’ it damn near impossible.”

Your brow furrows in a mix of confusion and amusement, “Respectful? You call that respectful, Joel? Oh—” You clear your throat and pull your bottom lip between your teeth, batting your lashes, “M’sorry, I mean, daddy.”

“Careful,” Joel warns, “You still have an hour in the car with me in the morning.”

You nod, slowly rising to your feet as you adjust your dress down your body, smoothing it out over your curves as your hands rest naturally behind your back, loosely as they curl together.

“Mmm, no,” You retort, a playful glint in your eyes, “I think you should be worried about me.”

“Is that right, sweetheart?” He mocks, hardly believing your faux confidence against him.

“Or, you could just let me drive?” You attempt playfully, a full belly chuckle erupting from Joel.

“I mean,” Joel shrugs, his voice trailing.

Breaking his rule for a moment, the hand ruffling through his hair trails toward your thigh, curling around the bare skin for a brief moment, sliding up until his fingers grazed against the curve of your ass and your bare pussy underneath, your panties resting near his fist on the table, a keepsake.

“Gotta reward my good girl, don’t I?”

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 13)

Goddammit, you never felt this small before. Sure, all hybrids are twice or thrice your size, but why do you feel this way only now that you were standing in front of Johnny's kneeled down form?

He was kneeling down. Kneeling down. And was still bigger than you standing up.

He was large too. All of them were, really. Men as buff as them naturally had large bodies—it was impossible not to notice that their arms were as thick as your torso.

So....

How exactly were you supposed to fight with him?

It's a play fight, just a play fight, but still, you didn't know what to do. This was insane, how could someone like you fight with a werewolf his size...? And he wanted you to "mess him up"??

You should've suggest playing UNO instead, this is torture.

"Mhm.... I-I... dunno what to do...?" You mumble, uncertain. Your eyes flick to his form—the way excitement buzzes through him, his tail wagging fast behind him, ears pressed flat against his head. His toothy smile never wavering.

Big canines too, bigger than Ghost's.

"It's easy, lassie." He cooed, voice more controlled and calmer than what his body language was showing. "Come on, ya trust papa, right? Papa will never hurt ye."

"I don't know how to fight...." You insist, frowning a little in worry, still shuffling quietly in front of him.

“Don’ have tae. Wha’ does a wee pup ken?” He snickers, rolling his eyes as his accent gets stronger out of nowhere. “Ah just like ma kids messin’ me up! Ye can bite, scratch, or anythin’ else, really. Ah can take anythin’, ye wee runt!”

You hesitate, still looking over his form in worry and confusion. You didn't even move from your position, just holding onto your hoodie as you rubbed your socked feet with each other.

Johnny’s excited, competitive demeanor softened a bit as he sized you up, his tail wagging less and his ears perking up again.

“C’mere, puppy, c’mere… pstpst, it’s alrigh’…” He cooed gently, beckoning you closer with a small hand gesture. “Come tae papa, he’ll teach ye everythin’, aye?”

You blushed in embarrassment at his attitude, letting out a quiet sigh as you approached, still clutching the sleeves of your hoodie.

He immediately flashed you a big, toothy grin—sincere, yet still intimidating. His dangerous demeanor remained as scary as ever. Honestly? He looked kinda insane.

And then—

Big hands grabbed you, making you gasp in surprise as he took you down onto the mat. Technically, he just kinda grabbed you and eased you onto your back, but still—you weren’t expecting it! It was fast.

“Down ye go.” He smiled in a terrifying mix of gentleness and smugness. “Now what, wee bonnie baby?” His tone was pure challenge.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, frozen for a few seconds. His big palm rested gently on your chest, fingers spread just enough to frame your neck as he held both your shoulders down with one hand, caging you in. His feral eyes and sharp grin never wavered as he loomed over you, kneeling like a true predator.

You breathed in shakily at the thought, both small hands coming up to grasp his wrist, trying to gently push his hand away. Your legs curling up close to your chest.

“Don’ let him pin ya down.”

Ghost’s voice immediately caught your attention, making you turn your head on the mat to glance at him sideways on the edge of the mat. He stood with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face, watching closely.

“Aye, runt, why’re ye lettin’ me pin ye down?” Soap teased again, one of his fingers gently rubbing your cheek from where he held you against the mat.

You bit your lip at the provocation, anxiety creeping back in. You pushed with a bit more force, trying to make his hand move, but weakened your grip when he laughed mockingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to yours.

“Look at this… nae claws at all, such cute wee fingers… trimmed nails and all, eh, wee baby? Price was talkin’ ‘bout ye humans… how we’ve gotta keep ye groomed right—short nails on hands an’ feet, brushed wee teeth, and trimmed hair… are all humans frail wee thingies like ye, runt?” He snickered, a broad, teasing smile stretched across his face.

"Big talk for a dirty mutt." Ghost joined in, voice low and raspy as he steaped on the mat, feet covered in black socks.

You immediately tensed up in worry at his tone, eyes widening as your body locked up. It sounded harsh, and for a moment, you genuinely feared they might start arguing right then and there.

But...

Johnny just laughed it off, his smile still wide, his hand still pressing you down against the mat as he kept an eye on Simon entering the mat from his peripheral vision.

“Are ye gonna get in the way, Si?” Soap asked menacingly, tilting his head slightly, baring his teeth at the other man.

“No. I don’t plan on fightin’ ya. I’m here for the kid.” he answered simply, dropping heavily to his knees by your side. "Come on, fledgling. His fingers are wide spread, tuck your hands under them."

You blinked up at him, stunned for a few seconds, before quickly glancing back at Johnny’s hand. Letting go of his wrist, you forced your hands under his fingers, slowly but surely lifting it off your shoulders and chest.

Sure, Johnny wasn’t putting much strength behind it, and he was still cooing at you the whole time, but you managed to take his hand off of you, only for Simon to roughly shove Johnny down onto the mat.

“Hey!” Soap laughed, falling onto his back, his elbows holding his body up.

"Go, up, come on." Simon nudged you, pushing your sitted form in Johnny's direction gently.

You got to your feet, slightly unsteady, feeling the gentle push of his hand that made you tumble on top of Soap, who was just staring at you with a smile.

“Hurt him. Go for his neck.” Ghost instructed, arms crossed as he watched you both.

“Wi’ these wee hands?” Soap cooed mockingly, his hand coming up to gently grab yours and rub with his thumb.

Ghost sighed quietly at your lack of reaction, watching you sit on top of Soap’s waist, your hand held in his, looking uncertain. Truly, zero instincts with this one.

“Gaz was right… it really does feel like when we had only newborns.” Soap laughed quietly, messing slightly with your hand, moving it around. “Ah used tae put them on ma chest for tummy time, too.”

You frowned slightly in confusion at that, head tilting slightly to the side.

"What's that...?"

“Oh, it’s—Ah mean…”

Even though Johnny was still smiling, he frowned a bit too, apparently caught off guard by your question. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. For a moment, it even seemed like pity crossed his face too.

“It’s when ye put babies on a soft surface, belly to the ground, and leave ‘em there. Helps ‘em strengthen their bodies so they can start crawling later on,” Ghost explained calmly, pushing you up slightly higher against Soap. “Now, come on, try to hurt him. He can take it.”

You still hesitated at that, unsure about actually trying to hurt one of your foster parents. Still, you sighed quietly before grabbing the hand that was holding yours and pushing against Johnny's face, hearing him laugh.

"Yeah, that's not going to do much." Ghost commented dryly.

Before you could say anything else, you let out a small, surprised yelp as Soap suddenly switched places with you, grabbing your small body effortlessly and getting on top of you once again, big grin still plastered on his stupid smiling face.

This time, at least, you managed to place your feet against his chest, pushing him slightly away from your body.

"Ya ken, Price's always liked a rough fight," Soap chuckled, a smug smile on his face as his big hand wrapped around your calf. "Me too, o' course, but he's even more violent than me, if ye believe it. Big bastard roughed up everyone as a soldier, an' let all the kids rough him up right back as a parent. He loves it."

"To be fair, most of us do." Ghost nodded from his place on the mat.

"But how does a wee thing like ye plan to do it if ye dinnae even try?"

At that, your leg was quickly pulled back, your body dragged across the mat as you let out a small shriek, only to immediately laugh right after when Soap stopped pulling you by the leg.

Actually, you were so busy giggling in a mix of surprise and excitement that you didn’t notice Johnny and Simon looking at you with surprise and contentment. It took them a bit, but they finally managed to make you actually laugh.

And what a cute laugh you had.

"Guys, come on up, Price still wants to check if her cold's gone away and watch a movie!" Kyle called out from the stairs, smiling gently at the scene.

"Heard that, lass? Hope ye like cartoons, ‘cause we love ‘em!" Johnny smiled excitedly, helping you up onto your little feet.

"I actually developed a liking for them after bein' forced to watch thousands of different ones as our kids grew up," Ghost commented, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Coco's very nice. Would ya like to see it, kid?"

"I'm... not sure...." You mumble, not recognizing the name.

"Yer gonna love it, lassie! Ah guarantee!"

Part 12 /

[konigsblog]

OCTOBER 17TH — KIDNAPPER!KÖNIG. His punishments are unusually violent, leaving deep and agonising welts and lengthy scars on your skin, and crimson leaking from beneath your thighs. (NON-CON)

2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 17)

NOTE: I apologise for this being a little late... (⁠T⁠T⁠)

PHOTO CREDIT: xbruised_peachx

König can be freakishly gentle for a man of his nature and size. His touch can be caring and cautious, careful not to grip you too tightly or firmly through pure and utter excitement and cuteness aggression. Don't blame him, Mäuschen. He's head over heels for you, a newfound and intriguing interest he can't get out of his rotten and decaying mind.

Although, he can become ruthless and unforgiving when you disobey. Considering his size, it doesn't take a lot to knock you unconscious, to leave you trembling on the filthy concrete ground beneath your feet. One rough and agonising punch to your cheekbone and you're stumbling backwards dizzily, your eyes glistening and bleary before they roll to the back of your skull, a painful and horrified whimper slipping from your bruised, burst lips. Your punishments are almost always the result of your attempted escapes. It's fruitless, he'll always catch up to you, military boots brushing the frozen, crispy autumn leaves beneath his large feet, gloved fingers grasping at your biceps.

“What don't you understand, Taube?” König mutters quietly beneath his cold breath, gazing down at the limp and almost lifeless body beneath him.

Your eyes gaze into his, a lone tear coating your bruised and bloodied cheek, mixing with the crimson fluid that seeps from the gushing wound on your face. You whine out, a small and weak sob for mercy before you fall unconscious, victim to König's brutality. He doesn't enjoy punishing you, or at least that's what he tells himself, a pointless attempt at reassuring himself that he's not that immoral or cruel — just misunderstood. He grinds his pearly teeth together, the taste of tobacco still on his lips from a previous cigarette, an addiction you only worsen by stressing him out. His calloused and scarred fingertips pull at the thin underwear that barely give you a slither of dignity.

Your head rolls backwards, his hands smearing the familiar gory liquid over your face as he wipes away a tear from your eye, pressing his scarred lips to your forehead as he slowly unzips his trousers. His breathing quickens as he exposes your bare, nude body to himself, admiring the deep welts that cover your rear and the back of your marked thighs, a haunting memory of the many punishments you've endured.

Your grown out fingernails leave deep, red scratch marks along his freckled and flushed back. He wears them proudly, like some sort of achievement. Or perhaps it's to taunt you, to show you how much he's weakened you, how exhausted you are, and how helpless and defenceless you are against someone like him. How despite your attempts at fighting back, you'll never overpower him. A puppet in his hands.

“I’m just trying to protect you, Mein herz.” He repeats, a bead of sweat wandering his wrinkled forehand as he pries your soft thighs apart with his grubby hands, stained with his grotesque sins. Teeth dig into the side of your nape as he ruts himself against your swollen and drooling cunt, his breathing laborious and his wide, insane eyes fixated on your shivering form. He grunts, an animalistic growl leaving him as he greedily and selfishly forces his way inside, sparing you no mercy for your rebellion.

“You’ll learn to become my pet, Runt. Just wait.”

Your skin is littered with agonising marks and fresh wounds, all that he's inflicted. He'll blame you for it, claiming that if you just obeyed that you wouldn't be beaten and roughened up. Your misery is his enjoyment, and a lesson for you to learn.

[pythoria]

i don't think you can fully understand astarion until you do an origin run tbh, or at least watch a video of his dream and all the responses you can give. it's hinted at in the final dialogue with cazador with his "you've never forgiven anything", but astarion wasn't some indisciplined brat who "deserved" or "kinda asked for it". He would apologise and beg for forgiveness, he would mind cazador's wishes and schedule and be constantly anxious about it, and the only reason that he got the worst of his wrath wasn't because his personality is just abrasive and it angered cazador, it was purely for entertainment, because he begged the prettiest, he screamed the loudest, etc. You can make the argument that he was the most vulnerable of the spawn, the least powerful, the runt of the pack.

Sure, he wasn't a great person while he was alive what with all his magistrate bs, but he was young and a bit of a dick, not evil. When he was alive and kinda abused some of his privilege as a magistrate that was posturing, underneath it there was always weakness and self-doubt. And when he was stripped of that little power he had, he became his "truest" (or rather basest) self, which was a scared boy who wanted to make it big or impress his superiors. On some level I think he admired Cazador for all the power he had, and we know that at the ritual "he wanted to be just like him". I don't think he would ever purposefully anger someone he looked up to, even with all the shit he was forced to do. For 200 years he was an obedient puppet, and it was his shortcomings, not his defiance that earned him all the torture.

So when you meet him after the nautiloid crash, you aren't seeing a single genuine personality trait of his. Not until the love confession in act 2. All you're seeing for the majority of 2 acts is a mask, a character he created, as well as him in full survival mode. Of course he doesn't want you helping innocents, this might be his only chance to escape, he doesn't want that derailed. Honestly, you don't really see the "real" him until after you've killed cazador. For anyone who finished his quest, y'all know how different he acts in the graveyard scene. He's uncharacteristically soft, even nice, and yes he's angry and he can't undo centuries of suffering, but you've helped him come back to himself. By act 3 he already stops rlly dissaproving of helping people, and when talking to the gurs he's defensive because he doesn't want to get their hopes up and dissapoint them, not because he wouldn't give anything to help. Astarion at his core is sassy, sure, but he is undoubtedly *nice*. He's a good person, he feels so much guilt for what he's done and sympathy for his victims, and he *has* to push it all down lest the psychological pain alone kills him. He likes killing, sure, but more as a sport than a past time. And honestly i could go on and on but let's leave it at that for now.

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader prologue

Origins

Your parents, not unlike a certain Dark Knight, were killed when you were young

Unsurprising given you were born and raised in Gotham

You were then taken care of by distant relatives

Though "taken care" is a generous term

They offered next to no affection nor attention in general, and with no friends your age you were rather isolated

This gave you time to develop the unique hobby of tinkering

Perhaps it was due to the nature of your parents demise (an explosion caused by a fight between the Bat and Bane) but you'd always had an interest in explosives

A morbid curiosity that only further fueled your guardian's distaste for you

And the direct cause of their other child's (your foster sibling) death

Unlike their parent your sibling was warm towards you, always encouraging your talent

The day you finally succeeded in your endeavors turned out to be the worst day of your life

You hadn't intended to hurt anyone

At the very least not them

Your guardian arrived home after work that day, greeted by a pile of rubble where their house once stood

And a corpse where their child once was

Your cries for forgiveness fell on deaf ears as they beat you, afterwards abandoning you in the remnants of your now decimated home

You'll never forget the look in their eyes

Nothing but pure hatred

You spent a few weeks on the streets after that

You survived on dumpster scraps and slept in alleyways

That was until you made the mistake of breaking into an abandoned warehouse

Piles of metal were strewn about, an old metal working mill you concluded

Your morbid fixation only seemed to worsen with the recent incident

You found yourself once again building your dangerous devices

Even more macabre, part of you hoped to go out in the same manor

Then one night, while you were finishing a grenade, you met them

A large group of muscled men filed into the building

They pointed their weapons at you, some guns, others baseball bats, but all directed at you

You should have been scared

But you were too numb to fear

You pulled the pin and threw the grenade as far into the crowd as you could

Blood

And flying limbs

You pushed past the remaining men only to be pulled back

"Just wait till the boss gets a hold of ya"

After a few moments of regrouping what was left of their forces the men greeted their 'boss'

"You mean to tell me this little runt killed a dozen of my men?" ... "Hahaha!"

That laugh

Everyone knew that laugh

Before you stood none other than the Joker

All smiles, he looked down at you

In one hand he held the remnants of your grenade

You could just barely make out the sharp toothed smile you'd doodled onto it

"This is far too crude to be mass produced. You wouldn't have happened to built this yourself, did you?"

You nodded

"Hahahaha!" He continued to laugh with unrestrained joy

"Harley, get a load of this!"

Out came Harley Quinn, the Joker's right hand

She gawked down at you

"This shrimp caused all this damage? Talk about an explosive personality!"

"Yes, precisely." the Joker kneeled in front of you, offering you the scrapped pieces of grenade "Not every day you see a gift like that."

His smile, albeit menacing, brought you a strange comfort in that moment

You took the offered scrap metal

"Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

"Oh? No siblings?"

"Dead."

"Them too, huh? And how did that happen?"

You looked down at the device

You didn't have to speak for him to understand

Another cackle sounded from the man

"Ha! You're quite the jinx it'd seem."

"Hey that's not a bad name, Puddin'!"

He stroked his chin in thought "It does have a certain ring to it, doesn't it?"

Joker stood back to his full height, looking off in thought

"You know, Harley. The Bat has his little protege, so who says I can't too?"

"Oh, Mistah J! You mean it? I always wanted us to have a little Joker!"

"Not a Joker, Harls." he turned back to you with a wide grin "A Jinx."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Pet Problems III

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Meeting the kittens is very stressful

It's pretty sweet, the way Ale is so attentive to the kittens.

Kiara ended up with seven of Bagheera's babies (though, thankfully, for everyone's sanity, none of them ended up looking like their father) and Alexia took care with each of them.

She checked in on them routinely at night.

She made sure that they all ate enough.

She made sure none of them got bullied and, when it was clear that the sole white kitten was a bit of a runt, she bottle-fed it until it was able to hold its own and begin weaning.

This also meant that she was quite protective of them all, not allowing anyone to visit until the kittens were past five weeks.

"Hola," Eli greeted, kissing you on the cheeks as she and Alba stepped through the door, greeting a yapping Nala," I am surprised you let us in."

You rolled your eyes, jerking your chin over to where Alexia was hovering by the door to the spare room. "Miss grumpy pants over there almost didn't let me. You're the first people to meet the litter. She's worrying."

Eli looked at her oldest daughter fondly. "Yes, Alexia always was a worrier."

"Did you wash your hands?" Alexia asked, barricading Alba's way when her sister tried to barge past. "You can't touch them if you haven't washed your hands." Her arms crossed over her chest as she sniffed the air. "Are you sick? You smell sick. You can't meet them if you're sick, Alba."

"Baby," You cooed, sliding between the two sisters and wrapping your arms tightly around Alexia's waist," Alba's very healthy. She's washed her hands. Let her meet the little ones."

Alexia's eye twitched before an arm was thrown over your shoulder and she opened the door a crack.

A pack of ginger fur tumbled around on the ground as you all stepped inside. A speckled flash of orange and white ran over to Eli, clawing up her pant legs in a hurry as a similarly coloured kitten chased after it.

Kiara lounged on the guest room bed, tail flicking side to side in pure boredom. As soon as she noticed the door open, she made a break for it - shoving past Nala and escaping her babies if only for a moment or two.

Alexia's favourite of the litter - the little runty white one mewed insistently at her until it was snug in the arms.

"Oh, Alexia," Eli said, holding two kittens in her hands before passing one off to Alba, who similarly cooed," They're absolutely darling." She kissed the kitten on the nose. "Are you keeping any?"

"Just this one." Alexia lifted the white one up with a smile. "She's too pretty to give away."

You rolled your eyes. "And she says she's not a cat person." You grinned at Alexia, who just rolled her eyes at you before laying a kiss to your crown.

"You're sending the rest away?" Alba looked positively heartbroken.

"Not really," You replied as Kiara sauntered back into the room, leaping up onto the cabinet before laying across your shoulders. "Ingrid and Mapi are taking one." You jerked your thumb to one of the pure ginger ones. "And Frido and her boyfriend are taking one too."

"Patri wants one," Alexia said.

"You didn't tell me that."

"I haven't decided if she deserves one yet."

You rolled your eyes. "Alexia," You said," That's not how it works."

"Keeping them close to home, huh?" Alba said," I'll take one. Since you're offering."

Alexia glared at her sister. "We weren't offering."

"Come on! I'd be a great kitten owner!"

"You're not nearly home enough to have one!"

Eli rolled her eyes fondly at her daughters arguing as she reached up to stroke Kiara's ears. "And how is the Mama?"

"The Mama," You laughed," Is doing very well. I think she's realised that if she dumps them all on Ale, she gets a free babysitter for a few hours."

Eli laughed. "Well, for what it's worth," She lowered her voice and winked," I'll take two of them."

●～●～●～●～

Alexia was, perhaps, even more stressed when it came time for the rest of the team to meet the kittens. It had been a few more weeks since Alba and Eli came around and the kittens had completely taken over the apartment.

"Just-Just..." Her hand fluttered anxiously at the front door," Be nice. No screaming or yelling or loud noises." She gave Mapi a pointed look. "And don't throw them into the air to catch them."

She pushed open the door and could do little to control the onslaught of football players pushing into her apartment.

"Hi, girls," You chirped in greeting from the kitchen table. Kiara lay next to you as Marie (the white kitten) sat atop your shoulder.

"Hi, y/n," The girls chorused before hurrying off in search of the rest of the litter.

"Hi," Alexia said softly, sidling up behind you and kissing your neck," I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby," You replied, turning to kiss her properly as Marie clambered up from your shoulder to your head.

Alexia smiled down at you and plucked Marie into her arms. "Are you busy?"

"Sorry, baby. Yeah, I am. You'll have to supervise kitten play by yourself."

She huffed but didn't force you to join, carting Marie off to meet the others while Kiara sat next to your computer.

It was organised carnage in the living room as Ingrid and Mapi fawned over each and every one of Bagheera's kittens while Frido, Patri and Pina threw a ball for one to chase after.

Lucy, Keira, Oshoala and Paredes supervised Ona, Jana and Bruna playing with some more.

"So," Mapi said with a grin," We get to take this one home, right?" She lifted up one of the ginger boys.

"After they've finished getting their vaccinations," Alexia reminded her," And after you get Bagheera neutered."

"Hey! Without Bagheera, we wouldn't have these little cuties!"

"And we don't want anymore," Alexia replied," One litter is enough."

Mapi rolled her eyes. "Sure, whatever you say." The ginger tom batted at her, claws getting tangled in her hair and yanking. Mapi's face lit up like a child at Christmas. "He's gonna be a hunter like his dad!"

"I fear for the wildlife at Mapi's house," You said as you approached, having just finished your work for the day," Hopefully, that one gets Kiara's love for flower hunting rather than Bagheera's love of mice."

"I think we should more hope that Marie hunts flowers," Alexia replied," If Mapi gets dead mice, that's her fault." She cooed softly as Marie clambered from her arms onto your shoulder - mimicking Kiara in almost every action she took.

"Make sure to keep an eye on them," You said as you began to head back to the kitchen," I wouldn't put it past Patri or Mapi to try to smuggle one out under their shirts."

"Wait...Where are you going?"

"To get the pizza menus. I've got the feeling that we're not getting rid of anyone anytime soon."

[astraaa3]

Yandere Lucifer and GN!Reader headCanon

A/N: Thank you for the request Anon. I absolutely loved writing thisss. Kisses and hugs. Feedback is much appreciated. Also, if you want to proofread this degeneracy that I write please feel free to shoot me a dm. Mwah. Now, let's get this bitch on the road.

Yandere!Lucifer X Gn!Reader

Note: The first few ideas/phrases/headcanons whatever you want to call them might not seem like straight-up Yandere behavior, but it will get there. Lucifer doesn't seem like the type to instantly go full "You're mine, you're not allowed to leave". You'll see what I mean by that~ Cw/tw: yandere behavior (obviously), given the first warning possessive and obsessive behavior are a given so keep an eye out for that as well; threats of violence; actual violence; 

=========꧁🍏꧂=========

Initially, you came to the Hazbin Hotel out of pure curiosity and boredom. You didn't actually think that sinners could get redeemed. After all, everyone here had their chance of leading a righteous life. That said, you ended up staying at the Hotel. Whether it was because of the Princess' puppy eyes that basically begged you to remain, or whether it was because you found yourself actually enjoying the company of the residents, you still didn't know why for sure. 

It was a few weeks into your stay at the hotel when you first met Lucifer. It was apparently the first time Charlie saw her father in quite a while as well. 

After Lucifer spent some (much-needed) father-daughter time with Charlie, he found himself at the bar right next to you. He was immediately taken aback by your looks. The two of you quickly found yourselves making some small talk. As most talks over a drink go, the topics took a deeper turn after a while, when Lucifer asked you "Do you really believe sinners can be redeemed?"

You smiled looking into your drink as if it could give you the words you couldn't find within yourself. Finishing your drink in one big gulp, you stood up, looking at Lucifer with a small smile: "Not really, no. But I think that if anyone can find a way to do it... it's Charlie" With that you left. Unknowingly leaving behind you a flustered King of Hell.

Since that discussion Lucifer found himself entranced by you. He analyzed everything about you. From the way your nose scrunched up with laughter whenever you were genuinely laughing, to the way you walked (he could already tell how you were feeling based solely on the way you stepped). 

He made sure to bring you your favorite drink whenever you felt down, coaxing you into telling him whatever made you upset over a drink (or more than a drink if you didn't feel particularly sharing in regards to what made you upset).

And well, if it was someone that upset you, that person would find themselves on Lucifer's radar. (and if their bodies turned up later on, well, it's not like he would ever let you find out; he didn't want to risk losing your favor)

You found Lucifer's unyielding pursuit of finding everything about you to be quite cute. Yeah, maybe it was a bit over the top and spiraling out of control, but the silly crush you had developed for the King of Hell was jumping up and down with joy whenever you had his attention.

The first time Lucifer's possessive side came out you were arguing with another sinner in the Hotel's lobby. The sinner was some runt who thought he would be able to get his hands on Angel Dust if he stayed in the hotel. Having grown fond of the resident porn star you defended your friend giving the sinner a verbal lashing. Lucifer just watched on amused and annoyed (that your attention was not on him) his love-sick smile turning into an enraged frown when the sinner proposed that the two of you "made love instead of war". HOW FUCKING DARE HE. Not only did he dare look at what belonged to the King of Hell. Not only did he dare to imply defiling your precious innocent body. He dared to utter the word 'love' while looking at you. 

Lucifer's patience snapped and with a snap of his fingers, a portal opened beneath the sinner's feet teleporting him high up in the sky on the other side of the Pentagram. You looked shocked at Lucifer. Seeing him angry on your behalf... It was hot. 

That night was one of the many the two of you found yourselves falling into bed together, soon after making your relationship official.

As days passed, Lucifer started making more and more odd requests: "My love, could you please tell me whenever you leave the hotel?", "You should leave some of your clothes over at my place, for simplicity's sake." , "Could you please stop talking to (Friend Name)? I... think they may be harboring feelings for you. I think I actually heard them admit to that once. I'm sorry if I'm overreacting but since Lilith left me....", "Darling, I know we haven't dated for long, but I would love it if you were to move in. I know you love the hotel, but I want to make sure you are safe. No? I... alright. We'll talk about it later, it's going to be ok". 

The moment that made you realize that Lucifer's obsession was more serious than you thought was after the battle against Adam and the exorcist angels. You got hurt in the chaos of the battle. It was just a stab wound, but when Lucifer saw it, he flipped. With a serious tone, he looked at you, a crazed look in his eyes: "You are going to make a contract with me. You are going to give your soul to me. I will not hear any objections. You clearly can't take care of yourself. So, do we have a deal?"

You reflexively nodded out of fear, having not seen your lover so serious.... so obsessed.... so possessive. This was the first time you looked at Lucifer and saw The King of Hell, the Devil from the Bible. As he gently took your hand shaking it he smiled, the crazed look never leaving his eyes, he cupped your face gently "It's going to be alright, my love, I will take care of everything. I will make sure that you never need for anything. And you will never leave me, after all, you are the apple of my eye." 

=========꧁🍏꧂=========

Small prompt: After the deal 

It has been two months since you moved in with Lucifer. Your lover wouldn't take no for an answer. And well, you couldn't really say no to him anyway.... After the initial apprehension ended, you fell into a domestic routine with Lucifer: he would coax you to wake up with small kisses peppered across your face, kisses which turned into full-blown sleepy make-out sessions the moment you were awake; afterward, he would make breakfast for the two of you (the duck-shaped pancakes being your favorite); then, the two of you would go to the Hotel to check up on everyone or whatever else the two of you felt like doing; at the end of the day you would take a bath with Lucifer as he would make love to you, your body warm and soft from the hot water; you ended the day with a kiss. The next day it was the same routine. And the next. And the next. 

Wherever you went, whatever you did, Lucifer was there with you. Initially, you were bothered by it, feeling like your privacy was forcefully taken from you. But as Lucifer whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he would hug you to his chest proclaiming his love for you, as he would make love to you cradling your face and telling you that you're his... You slowly forgot what it was like to have time alone. 

When you first realized how much of your time Lucifer monopolized you tried going on a walk alone. That was the first time since the deal when you saw Lucifer get truly angry. Golden chains wrapped around your body, you were tied to your bed, his smile overly sweet as he caressed your face: "You see how easy it is for someone to just kidnap you? What if someone tried doing something to you, my love? You are so weak and pure, I can't let those dirty sinners touch or even glance at you. Now then, you can play with the duckies while I make sure that no one who saw you today sees the light of day again." with that, he kissed your lips sweetly before leaving you there tied to the bed, with a rubber duck on your chest.

After that, you never tried leaving again, too afraid that maybe your lover's ire will turn to you this time around. But Lucifer would never. He loved you, obsessively so. Maybe... it wasn't that bad letting him lock you away in the gilded cage you called home. After all, did you really need anything else when you already had him?

[fuckitpossumorb]

It’s so believable that Skrimm is the runt of the litter from some massive goblin clutch because he just has so much annoying little sibling energy.

Each time he came back from “fishing” with Barnabos and made a massive fucking deal about the fish HE caught ALL BY HIMSELF, even though it’s very obvious that Barnabos caught it and then dropped it so he could catch it (and Skrimm knows this)

The time Daisy send him a letter and he makes a massive fuss about it being HIS letter, doesn’t want anyone to touch it and I think even tries to eat it so Jornir doesn’t try to take it. Pure gold.

Later when the princess of wrath gives the gang a letter they must deliver he behaves similarly, making a big deal about wanting to have the letter and being allowed to carry it.

Queenie being an older sister from a big family makes it even better because they match each other’s freaks incredibly, whenever they are left alone to do a task they immediately devolve into chaos siblings. That time they show Jornir that horrific bone snowflake gives “children show they poor mother some weird shit they found in the park” and I couldn’t feel more for Jornir.

[hana-no-seiiki]

I’ve been stuck on this idea. Jinx reader with the batfam…I know you had it in your master list and I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Maybe when the reader was little, they doodled and made little trinkets like powder. So I’m thinking that the reader doodled on batmans tools. Kinda like how powder/jinx made their weapons with faces on them.

So maybe Batman and the rest of the boys were gone and reader snuck into the bar cave and started doodling on their masks and weapons.

And just another thought 😅

When reader is older, they become a vigilante, causing chaos for the fun of it but also doing it for good. They also move out when they were a kid, because maybe Batman called then a jinx (I’m really going for the arcane storyline 😭😭😭)

Maybe the batfam tries to bring her back, but she just kinda runs away laughing while throwing glitter bombs 😭😭😭

Just something I thought of

I don’t usually write reader as childhood friends with the guys here unless it’s cat villain (which is more like childhood rivals) so this is quite the change.

In my og storyline which i have semi spoiled and will spoil some more here : Jason and Jinx! Reader were part of a found family and Jason having a massive crush on reader gave them tools to make explosives they really shouldnt have. Which is kind of poetic knowing how he ‘dies’.

I’m not sure if this ask is platonic or romantic so I’ll just go with my preference, the latter.

this is just a little snippet since i started working on jinx reader again huhu wanna save the juicy stuff for that one

Jinx! Reader was known as the runt of the litter among Bruce’s adopted children. Physically weak, above average in smarts but nothing compared to the rest. The only thing they had going for them was their skill with firearms which Bruce heavily discouraged and admonished the practice of.

Jason and you bonded with rebelling against him. He’d often bring you out to abandoned arcades that you two would repair from scraps you found in the Batcave. Dude was down atrocious. He kept bringing you to missions purely because he couldn’t resist your face. Sure he was snarky at times, but your common upbringing made him more soft around you. (Sometimes he purposely puts you in situations where you’d get caught just so he can ‘save’ you. The way you hold unto him for dear life is…simply exhilarating)

But try as he might, he could never fill the hole you had in your heart. Your desire for a complete family. For validation. For Bruce to finally acknowledge your worth. For Damian to stop calling you a fucking waste of space.

You ended up screwing a mission so badly that you indirectly killed dozens of Gotham citizens.

Usually you would just compromise their positions during patrols but this was… this was something irreversible. Something that affected friends, families, actual living breathing people.

Bruce had a tight cap on his emotions, but he just couldn’t stop himself from taking out his anger, grief and frustration out on you.

Dick and Jason managed to pull him back before he could hurt you beyond a punch to the face, but the psychological damage had already been cemented.

You run away, running into Harley Quinn.

But instead of following the path my og jinx reader did, Joker wasn’t there to fuck with your head even further. So you sought to repay for your sins.

Still, the screams. The way Bruce called you useless, a jinx. The memories of being neglected and inferior.

Sometimes chaos was the only way to make it shut up.

[ashthewaterghoul]

You Guide Me In To Safety And Silence - A DewTom One Shot

Runts weren’t exactly uncommon but Quintessence runts were a particular rarity. Quints were so strong that the idea of a pure Quint being a runt was damn near unthinkable. And Copia had just managed to pull one - who looked days away from the Beyond - from the depths of the pits. No one quite knew how long it had been since this Quint had crossed over and the portal shut. But still, no one had even so much as hissed in a breath. That was until Dew snapped into gear, “Fuck this shit.” Or, Dew helps Phantom after being summoned, and they find out they both share a less-than-desirable trait amongst Ghouls.

Words: 2.5k

Rating: Teen and up

Relationship: Dewdrop/Phantom (platonic)

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, cuddles, runts, branding (mentioned/discussed not shown), scars, soft & caring Dewdrop, they/them Phantom, Phantom needs a hug, Phantom gets hugs, summonings, implied/referenced previous t0rture and abu$e (basically just Dew realising what a lot of Phantom's scars and mannerisms are indicative of), uhhh idk what else to tag, help.

A/n: Mind the tags in regards to references made to Phantom's past, all are brief mentions and nothing's in too much detail. Please let me know if I missed any tags!

Title from 'Telomeres' by Sleep Token

~~~

    No one could quite believe the sight of the little Quint that landed on the altar. They were summoning a Quintessence Ghoul… right? Quints were usually big and bulky, a reflection of their cosmic-fuelled powers. Omega and Aether were your typical, stocky Quints, Delta and Swiss being Quint-aligned had some of the typical presentation as well.

    So why was this one so tiny?

    It clocked for everyone instantly what they were, and the Clergy’s eyes all turned to Copia, who was flushed in embarrassment at the attention. The man had an incredible connection to the unholy divine and had summoned six Ghouls by himself before this, his other three inherited from his brother. His stellar record had only led to a great amount of respect, but clearly that luck had just ran out because Copia had just summoned a runt.

Read below the cut or on ao3

    No one instantly went to the shocked and shivering Ghoul on the altar. They were so curled in on themself, they looked even smaller. The little clothing the Ghoul had on - as was typical down in the pits - revealed their twiggy frame, joints and bones sticking out under their patchy scarred skin.

    Usually, Copia helped the Ghoul off the altar and threw a blanket over them, and get their permission to bind their souls to him and this Ministry. Then the pack would embrace them and the lot of them would spend a confinement period in the den, just them, no humans and no one would leave unless it was essential so the new summon could start to acclimate to life on the surface, and start to form a bond with the pack.

    But everyone was stood gawping at the runt in the summoning circle.

    Runts weren’t exactly uncommon but Quintessence runts were a particular rarity. Quints were so strong that the idea of a pure Quint being a runt was damn near unthinkable. And Copia had just managed to pull one - who looked days away from the Beyond - from the depths of the pits.

     No one quite knew how long it had been since this Quint had crossed over and the portal shut. But still, no one had even so much as hissed in a breath. That was until Dew snapped into gear,

    “Fuck this shit.”

    He defied protocol as he took off his uniform’s cape and jacket, walking up to the altar to drape them over the Ghoul, who’s fangs where clacking together with their shivers. Well, no, actually. It was just the one fang, Dew noticed as he got closer. The other three had fallen, or probably rather were ripped out. Dew couldn’t spend too much time thinking about it though because their whole body was wracked with shivers, obviously in shock and suffering from the temperature change between the pits and Earth.

    “What’s your name?” Dew asked softly in Infernal.

    “Ph- Pha-“ They rasped before choking on air, probably not having had water anytime recently if the way their skin hung on their bones was anything to go by.

    Dew left the altar to grab one of the water bottles from the floor alongside some food, snatched the blanket Copia still had draped over his arm and gave it all to the Ghoul. They wolfed down the fruit, guarding it close to them as they did so, and cocked their head slightly at the bottle.

    “Drink from this,” Dew said as he cracked it open, “it’s like a waterskin.”

    They carefully alternated between giving it cursory sniffs and small tastes. Dew’s heart ached because a Ghoul usually only did that when they’d purposefully been given tainted water before.

    His soul twisted even more when he caught sight of the brand on their chest. It was the Infernal rune to mark a runt, roughly translating to “the ultimate, worthless shame bringer”. Dew had prayed that clans would stop using the scarification but clearly his prayers hadn’t been heard, and not for the first time.

    Dew soon grew a small smile as they eagerly gulped down the water. They were sat up now, but their knees were hugged tight to their chest. The cape, jacket and blanket around them made them look impossibly small, despite glassy eyes, wide with dozens of emotions.

    “So, what’s your name, little Bug?” Dew asked again.

    “Phantom.” They said quietly.

    “Hi, Phantom. I’m Dewdrop, but most people just call me Dew. Do you know any English?” Some Ghouls already knew a lot of the human language, practically being trained for life on the surface.

    They shook their head.

    “That’s okay. I didn’t know any when I was summoned.” Dew assured. His friendly demeanour for Phantom hardened as he turned to face Copia, still gawping, and switched to English, “Their name is Phantom, they don’t know any English so I will translate for them.”

    That seemed to snap Copia from his daze, “Sì, sì. Grazie, Dewdrop.” He muttered, reaching for his rosary.

    “Phantom?” Dew turned back to the new Quint, “This is Copia. He runs everything around here, and he’s going to offer if you want to stay here, and be bonded to him as his servant.”

    The last word made Phantom stiffen, and their eyes went even wider with pure fear. Dew remembers feeling like that too.

    “It’s just a word. It won’t mean the same thing here as it does down there. You’re safe now, I promise.” Dew said firmly.

    “S- safe?” Phantom said, almost kit-like wonder in their big, round eyes, “They said I’d never know ‘safe’.”

    Dew swallowed a growl, and managed to smile instead in a manner he hoped was friendly.

    “Well, they were wrong. I swear, you’ll be safe here.” Dew said.

    Phantom nodded and Dew turned back to Copia.

    The Papa walked up to Phantom and removed one of his gloves, rolling up his sleeve.

    “Phantom. I, Papa Emeritus the fourth, do hereby pledge to keep you safe and provide for you, in exchange for your work and servitude to spread His most unholy word. Do you accept?”

    Dew translated and Phantom nodded their agreement to Copia.

    “Hold your hand out like he has, then he’ll hold onto your forearm, you do the same. That rosary, that he’s holding, will wrap around where you’re holding on, and it might feel a bit weird but that’s just the magic, okay?” Dew informed and Phantom reached out a shaky hand.

    Dew saw how multiple of Phantom’s digits had been declawed on both hands, the others were blunt and uneven. Dew sported a sad smile at Phantom being such a fighter, the many battles and loses spelled out over their body for all to see.

    The magic washed over the room, and this was usually the point where the others would lave them with love and company before guiding them back. But none of them still seemed to want to move.

    “Come on.” Dew said to Phantom, “I’ll show you where you’ll be living now.”

    They hopped down and Dew wrapped an arm around them, the other reaching over to hold their hand that they took in a vice grip. As they walked out, Dew bared his fangs in a snarl to the rest of his pack for their horrific failure.

    Dew took Phantom through side corridors and hidden passages, knowing how much the Siblings love the new summons and the gossip that comes from them. Dew thinks Phantom may collapse if faced with that, so took them through the route away from all eyes but the rats that ran free in the passage ways.

    They got to the den, and Dew showed Phantom to an empty room.

    “This is where you’ll sleep now. The beds can be turned into nests quite easily, and we have running water here, hot or cold, which is nice.” Dew explained, walking them in and sitting them down on the edge of the mattress, “The door and windows can be locked so no one can get in either.” He said, demonstrating both.

    “‘s big.” Phantom muttered.

    Dew nodded, “Doesn’t stop feeling like that.”

    “Why’d you help me? ‘m a runt. No one ever helps me.” They questioned.

    Dew let out a heavy breath and reached for his vest, cravat, and blouse, undoing them to reveal the old brand on his own sternum, “Because I know how it feels.”

    Dew will never forget the day of his accidental summoning. How he was simply trying to get some water from a lake and he just-so-happened to be next to the Ghoul later known as Delta as they got summoned and his weak little soul managed to slip through. No one came to help him, Terzo had to bond him without his understanding because no one stepped up to translate for Dew. He pulled himself off the altar, and stalked after the group of Ghouls as they showed Delta back to the den and started their acclimation. Dew didn’t join them in the big nest in the common room they all slept in for those weeks. He didn’t form proper pack bonds with them and isolated himself until Omega, their leader, came into his room to apologise for the pack’s behaviour. The damage had been done though, and Dew never formed full bonds with them. He didn’t have a complete bond until Aether, Mountain, Zephyr and Ifrit came along.

    From all that Dew promised himself that if another runt was ever summoned, he would never let them suffer a fraction of what he did.

    “If you stay in here,” Dew said, fixing his shirt closed again, “I’ll get some stuff to make a nest, and I’ll get you some clothes, okay?”

    Phantom just nodded again, pulling the blanket and Dew’s pieces of uniform tighter over them.

    Dew left the room and went to his own. He quickly changed into some sweats and a t-shirt, grabbing some for Phantom too. He stacked his arms with pillows and blankets from his own nest to add to what little to Ministry provided.

    He went back in to see Phantom hadn’t moved a single muscle. The pale patches of scarred skin probably meant that they had seen some severe punishment for disobedience, and Dew had to hold back tears. Runts were often used as slaves, for a bit of fun, treated as nothing more than a shit smear because that’s all they were worth. A Quintessence runt especially would be of particular interest.

    “Do you want to get changed? I can leave while you do, if you want.” Dew said. Bodies and nakedness were never usually a problem for the open airs of the pits, but what it was likely Phantom had been through, he thought it best to offer.

    But Phantom just got up and started changing. Dew turned his back to give them some privacy, and snuck a tiny glance a couple minutes later to make sure they were done. He turned back to their nest and set up the pillows and blankets into something basic that Phantom could fine-tune to exactly how they wanted. Dew finished laying the last blanket down and Phantom stared at it.

    “You okay, Bug?” Dew said.

    “Never had a nest.” Phantom muttered.

    “I hadn’t either before coming here, but unholy fuck, they are a game changer. Especially as you get closer to other people, because sometimes we all swap blankets and pillows and plushies so our nests smell of each other.” Dew smiled.

    Phantom leant over and sniffed the nest, “Smells like you.”

    “It’s stuff from my room.” Dew said, “Come on.”

    He climbed in and tucked himself under one blanket, lifting a different one for Phantom to duck under. They did so hesitantly, but Dew could see the relief from the cosiness coming over their face and body as they sunk more and more into it.

    “Comfy?” Dew asked with a smile as they burrowed down.

    Phantom just nodded again.

    “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?” Dew remarked.

    “Was always told I shouldn’t speak ‘cause anything I said was as worthless as me.” They murmured, eyes far off while a claw lightly petted over one of the bats printed onto the fleece blanket.

    “I promise it’s different here. You’ll be listened to, and you’ll be respected.” Dew assured, “The others, they’ve never seen someone like us be summoned before, they didn’t know what to do. They’ll come around and apologise if you let them though. Then maybe we can all set up a big nest together in the common room?”

    They nodded again, curled up into a ball on their side, their tail coiled around their abdomen with their arms in a self-soothing attempt that must be instinct at this point for them.

    “Do you want me to hold you?” Dew asked, knowing how much he craved it when he was summoned, “It won’t be like the others. I won’t even directly touch your skin, if you don’t want.”

    Phantom still didn’t meet Dew’s eyes as they thought about it. Dew wriggled down in the nest so he could actually see them.

    “Look at me.” He said softly, and for the first time, they did. Dew’s breath was nearly taken straight from his lungs at the gorgeous violet of their irises, so incredibly bright despite all the darkness they’d seen and been through, “I won’t hurt you. I’m not whoever’s hurt you so much in the past. They’re gone. They’re all gone. And they can’t get you here.”

    Phantom’s gaze softened and they nodded.

    “Okay.” Dew smiled, “How do you want me?”

    Phantom thought about it for a moment, probably never having a choice laid in their hands before.

    “Um, by there.” They pointed to the headboard.

    Dew propped a pillow against the wood to save his back, then sat up against it, “Like this?”

    Phantom nodded.

    Dew pulled his own blanket back around him, and opened his arms so Phantom could position themself however they wanted. And slowly, they crawled over and lay on their side, their head against Dew’s chest and listening to his heartbeat. Their hand rested next to Dew’s face and traced the scars of his brand through his t-shirt. Usually Dew hated anyone touching there, not even Aether or Mountain who’d he’d known longest were allowed to, but something about Phantom made Dew want to protect them with everything his shitty little body could give.

    Dew reached for the bat blanket they had adopted and draped it over them, when he rested his hands down over Phantom, he made sure that they didn’t go beneath the blanket and stayed far away from anywhere that might trigger some unpleasant memories.

    “‘s quiet here.” Phantom whispered after a while.

    “Yeah, the walls are quite thick so you have your own little safe space in here. You can decorate it however you want as well. It’s yours and no one call tell you ‘no’ in here.” Dew said.

     They stayed in silence for a little while longer, and Dew eventually starting whispering and babbling reassurances as they snuggled together for the next few hours.

    “You are safe here, I promise, Phantom. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.” Dew said.

    They took a deep breath and, in English, said a single word,

    “Safe.”

Click here to see the amazing art that @mak-be-ghouled did bc it is so fucking adorable!!!!

One shot master list can be found here or in my pinned post