Dream is a vampire who struggles with luring in thralls. He can put people to sleep, which works just fine in order to feed himself with minimum fuss, but he can’t seem to find the knack to tying even one mortal’s mind to himself for the long-term, who is forevermore convinced that all they live for is to provide him blood and devotion.
All of his siblings can manage it in one way or another; for example, Desire has a gift for making their thralls believe that they fulfill all the humans’ strongest wants and longings, Death manages to convince her thralls that she’s their dearest and oldest friend and thus someone they can trust implicitly, and Destiny somehow overwhelms his thralls with the belief that they were always fated to stay by his side and provide him with sustenance.
Dream has been studying and researching and preparing though, and he’s ready to try luring in his first permanent thrall, the perfect companion and pet to care for and feed from.
And here in the woods, away from anyone that might stop him, he finds the most perfect man seemingly tailored exactly to his taste. At first sight, he knows that he wants this man always beside him, prettied up and pampered like a good and precious pet should be.
Dream wants to have him wrecked under him, to see those big brown eyes well up with tears as he begs for yet another orgasm. Dream can already see it in his mind’s eye, can see this lone traveler turned into his sweet little pet, his mind fucked out of him and enthralled forever.
And so he steps out from the trees and throws everything he’s learned into the thrall magic. His voice is as soft as a lullaby, and he coaxes the man’s name — Hob Gadling — and life’s story out of him until he is entirely at ease, allowing Dream further and further into his space and thus tightening the vampire’s hold on his mind.
Before long he’s enticed Hob to lay back on the forest floor and remove his clothes, to open his legs up to him and bare his neck.
Even with Dream’s new knowledge and skill, he’s amazing at how easily Hob falls into the thrall, already looking at him with eagerness and adoration even as his back meets the ground, immediately agreeing when Dream proclaims that Hob now belongs to him, is his forevermore, and will consider Dream his beloved master. The only conclusion Dream can come up with is that the darling man is particularly susceptible to mind magic, practically made to be a devoted pet to someone like Dream. Clearly it’s a good thing he found him when he did, before some other unscrupulous creature could snatch him up and take advantage of him, abusing the poor thing before draining him dry.
As Dream pounds into his new thrall’s hole and lovingly licks the bite marks he’s left on Hob’s neck, he revels in his newfound skill, and looks forward to taking very good care of his pet.
——
Hob Gadling is a fairly seasoned traveler, and has gained a few boons on his adventures from decently powerful people. Like the spell cast on him by a grateful witch that permanently grants him immunity to mind manipulation magic, including vampires.
So Hob could be considered safe in his own mind when the beautiful—and clearly vampiric—stranger emerge from the spooky woods and immediately tries to enchant him, and doesn’t appear to realize that the magic isn’t touching him. It’s ultimately a moot point though, when Hob “But Red is My Favorite Flag Color” Gadling decides to go along with it anyway, allowing his new “Master” to fuck him and feed from him, and then take him home with him afterwards.
At some point Hob might decide end the charade and continue his traveling, but as he shamelessly rubs himself against an indulgent but pleased Dream as they settle into his new home, he has a sneaking suspicion that it’s an unlikely possibility.
(He is admittedly looking forward to seeing how long it will take Dream to realize that Hob is in fact unaffected by his magic, and is choosing to be his pet. At the very least he’s curious if the vampire will even notice that Hob is a particularly long-lived pet, thanks to a different boon of immortality given to him by a grateful goddess he once helped 😁)
-🪽anon
I'm on a real vampire kick lately what with Good Dog au AND it being spooky season, so I am sooooo into this!!
The truth is Hob was kind of going through a rough patch, so he was very grateful to be taken in by such a kind, sweet "master". Dream isn't the type to want his thralls all skinny and beaten up, far from it! He makes sure to give Hob the absolute best of everything: nice new clothes, good food, warm baths. He really treats Hob like a pampered lap dog, always trying to tempt him with some new treat or gift. Hob quickly becomes very spoiled and is very content to laze around while Dream takes care of him. The best part is that Hob doesn't even have to think for himself, because Dream does all the important decision making. Hob’s only job is to thoroughly enjoy himself and act like the cutest little himbo.
He wakes up each morning and gladly spreads his legs for Dream to fuck into him. Sometimes he dozes off again while Dream works his pretty little hole. Sometimes he stays awake while Dream plays with his nipples and makes him beg to be allowed to cum. Either way Hob always bares his neck eagerly: he LOVES being bitten and will pout if Dream doesn't drink "enough" from him. What a sweet little pet he is!
When Dream’s family come around and inspect his new thrall, Hob has to press a finger to his lips and silently beg Death and Desire not to tell Dream that he's not actually under any spell at all (they can tell immediately, of course). And they do keep the secret, because Dream finally seems so happy, and there's no harm it in really. Hob is enthralled by Dream, just not in a magical way - it's just love.
Hob is so relieved when Dream’s siblings go away. He crawls right into Dream’s lap and starts riding his cock, rubbing all over him and nearly purring. He doesn't want to travel anymore or be cold and wet and alone. He's so happy with his "master", why would be ever want to leave? He's quite happy to be Dream’s spoiled pet immortal blood bank, thanks very much.
And Dream never wants or needs another pet, with Hob’s delicious blood sustaining him. He's so glad that Hob seems happy too... maybe Dream IS good at keeping thralls, after all!
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Hello!!! I was wondering if u had any radioapple headcanons? :)
Hello! I am... very sorry it took this long for me to reply. I saw the ask at work and then closed it to answer later, but once it was closed and out of my view then in my brain's opinion, it promptly ceased to exist.
Anyway my headcanons are a bit malleable depending on the situation/how they got together/the environment they're in/etc. But I'll try and jot down a few.
Alastor picks Lucifer up a lot. I mean look at him, he's tiny. Sometimes Alastor will have conversations with people with Lucifer slung over his shoulders, hanging from the crook of his elbow, or in the occasional princess carry. Alastor enjoys this because he thinks it's embarrassing for Lucifer. Lucifer enjoys this because he gets to be carried (even if he acts like it's embarrassing so Alastor will keep doing it).
Their coming together was slow, and started by them just learning to be in the same room without going for the throat. Eventually it turned into them talking, and then their chairs getting closer, and then Lucifer showing interest in one of Alastor's hobbies -- probably music. Because they are both overenthusiastic weirdos about their personal interests, and while Alastor doesn't share some of Lucifer's (the ducks, the circus, all things fruity and sweet, etc), Lucifer shares quite a few of Alastor's (music, dancing, cooking, disliking television, well tailored clothes, etc).
One of their favorite things to do is just hole up in a room in their respective spots and read. Their tastes in fiction don't always align, but they learn enough about the other's tastes that they can recognize what they might like when they come across it. Lucifer starts bringing Alastor books as gifts, and eventually Alastor starts to reciprocate, but only by leaving books in places that Lucifer is likely to run across them. If Lucifer tries to thank him, he'll disavow all knowledge.
Lucifer enjoys listening to Alastor's radio show.
Alastor enjoys listening to Lucifer sing.
Lucifer, as an angel, existed long before sex and gender were even things. Thus, he doesn't have any particular attachment to either. He's been in one form for ten thousand years because it's the one that Lilith (and later Charlie) knew, but he's fine with shifting it around as he pleases. Regarding sex, Lucifer enjoys it, but doesn't need it. If his partner isn't into it, then neither is he. What he desires isn't sex, but intimacy. He wants to be wanted, in whatever form that takes.
It takes a while before Alastor trusts Lucifer enough to even begin to allow any sort of sexual activities, but he quickly relaxes once it's proven that Lucifer will not only not force anything onto him, but will not expect anything of him, either. Lucifer will be just as happy if the night ends in a cuddle, or even just lying side by side and talking if Alastor's not up for that.
When they do start having sex, though they will play around with different dynamics as it suits them, Alastor tends to prefer letting Lucifer take the lead. Since his interest in sex is most often not the sex and more about being close to Lucifer and enjoying being the source of his pleasure, he doesn't feel any particular inclination to be the one making decisions. Plus, this way Lucifer has to do all the work, and Alastor's the center of attention the entire time. Why would he pass up on that?
Alastor doesn't feel like he's lacking any control when Lucifer leads in bed. There's a heady sort of power that comes from the knowledge that no matter what they're doing, no matter how close Lucifer is to climax, all it takes is one word or one unhappy noise from Alastor and Lucifer will stop completely. And if Alastor says so, then that's it for the night. He's tested it, in the early days when he was still skeptical, and Lucifer never complains, never pushes. (There's safety in this as well as power, but Alastor tries to think about that less.)
Lucifer, for his part, understands how much trust Alastor is showing in him by allowing himself to be that vulnerable. This makes him feel touched, honored, possessive and honestly, very protective. (Angel Dust has learned the hard way by now not to ask for details about how Alastor is in bed -- and it wasn't from Alastor. Lucifer will protect Alastor's vulnerabilities with his life).
I'm thrilled that fandom has run with the "Alastor's shadow is affectionate with Lucifer" idea, because it's one of my favorites. I also believe that his shadow is an extension of his own feelings, particularly the ones he hides behind his buttoned up exterior -- so when things start to get friendlier with Lucifer, the shadow shows Alastor's growing interest before Alastor himself does. And when they do get farther along... well. Good luck reining that thing in. (SHADOW RIGHTS)
When Charlie first found out, she thought it was a prank on their part in order to get them out of bonding exercises.
That's some of them! Hope that'll do!
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Whoops I said I’d post this like three days ago my bad. Head canons for the masks in Marble Hornets! I may post a bunch of shorter stuff that are general headcanons soon. Also if you want more details on this lmk I’d love to dive deeper @forgottenporkbun @monszsterz
Here's my headcanons for the masks. Honestly I could go on like a huge, rambling essay about why I think these things, my inspo for these ideas, down to the details of what they feel like and how they work but Imma try and keep this short. I plan to put all that other stuff in my fics anyway and if you're reading this you'll probably wanna read my MH fics so you'll figure it out eventually. The idea that Tim and Brian made their mask with stuff from Hobby Lobby is REALLY funny but I have to stick with the idea the masks are gifts from The Operator (TO). Tim got his in college because if he was given it at any point while in the hospital, it would probably be found and taken away. TO waited until Tim was free before gifting it. Its when their "relationship" begun. TO switched from this unfamiliar, constantly looming monster into this warped guardian angel. This is obviously very fleeting because by the time Jay runs into Tim in MH, he's forgotten this entirely, or repressed it, and is back to viewing TO how he did his entire childhood.
During the tail end of college, while filming Alex's project, is when this Masked Era began and it ended for an unknown reason a quarter of the way into MH. My timeline isn't great but roughly that's the situation we're talking about. This is when we get all those videos of Masky and Hoody stalking Jay and Alex. I don't think I could fully call Tim and TO's relationship that of worship but that's the closest I can get. Tim knew what he was dealing with was some kind of unimaginable creature, but it could feel human emotions FOR HIM. At least if he listened. If Tim did what TO wanted, then in return he got benefits. At some point he understood TO needed him-either to keep living or to stay grounded to earth, and things got a little extra toxic. I imagine its a LOT like the Fears and their respective Avatars in TMA. I use you to get food, I give you powers that make it easier for you to get food, win win.
These benefits were really only accessed when wearing his mask. The more he wore it and the more work he put in for TO, the better things got. At the very least it instantly cleared up his lungs so he could breathe easily, he no longer suffered from migraines, he didn't have any hallucinations that weren't purposeful messages from TO, and most debilitating affects from mental disorders were gone so he wouldn't feel depressed or anxious. Fuck if I had a magical mask that made me neurotypical and took away my chronic illness I'd kill people in the woods too/j. More benefits were added on with time like growing stronger, healing faster, its kinda giving the vampires from Twilight ngl. My RP partner and I make a LOT of Twilight vampire jokes about them. It also spiraled Tim into a euphoric mania, giving him the energy and desire to sprint around the woods all hours of the night. This was an addictive sensation that had him craving his mask. He had to share it with someone.
His closest (and really only) friend at the time was Brian so he opened up to him about it and eventually got him involved. Because of Tim's medication and natural resilience to TO he eventually got OUT of this cult-like situation but Brian couldn't. He got to the point he was constantly under that mask and if he took it off for long enough, he'd probably suffocate and die. This explains why he ends up homeless, constantly in his mask state, and seems to have uncanny abilities. He just disappears into thin air, he seems to be doing physically GREAT despite living on a mattress in the woods with no source of food or money, and we only ever hear him cough. That ties back into my idea their vocal cords melt due to the TO disease. He can take the mask off for short bits of time. Its not like an astronauts helmet, more so an oxygen tank while hiking a tall mountain.
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it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
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Pete didn't realize he was holding his breath until Vegas slightly moved in front of him. He was too focused on what was in Vegas' hands, stretched in his direction for Pete to apparently take.
A gift, Vegas called it. Pete couldn't understand.
"Vegas. What are those?"
It was a stupid question to ask, but Pete couldn't help it.
Vegas' grip tightened around the bouquet. "Isn't it obvious? Flowers," he replied hastily, the pitch of his voice higher than normal. "Do you not like them?"
He was nervous. On edge. It explained some things, but not everything. Pete had to know. He had to figure out what was going on.
"Did something happen at the compound?"
Vegas had been at a meeting with Porsche all evening. He had seemed fine upon returning home, but then he suddenly interrupted Pete who had been washing the dishes and pulled out a bouquet of yellow roses from his backpack and he offered them to him with a warm smile on his face, somehow expecting Pete to not grow suspicious of the gesture.
"Why do you think something happened at the compound?" Vegas asked and his tone of voice made Pete finally raise his head to look at him.
Vegas looked hurt. His eyes were glassy, his breathing uneven. He was going to cry soon if this conversation continued. Pete didn't want that.
"I... just... Vegas, we can go to our bedroom if you want-"
"Fuck, Pete, it's not about that," Vegas groaned and threw the bouquet on the dinner table. He ruffled his hair harshly and muttered something Pete didn't hear. Probably calling himself a failure, as always.
"Has nobody ever given you a present before?" he shouted two seconds later, returning his attention to Pete, who could feel his eyebrows furrowing as he was staring back at him.
All Pete could do at the moment was utter the first thing that came to his mind.
"No? Why would they need to?"
Seeing the change in Vegas' demeanor made Pete come to a second realization then; that was the wrong answer to give.
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